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#cassandra penteghast
stealingpotatoes · 3 months
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i bring more hawke hawke!! (aka mine and @highladyofdusk's da2 playthru!)
(commission info // kofi support!)
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wildspaceyokel · 1 year
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Dragon Age Inquisition Cursed Casting
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hauntedbestie · 2 years
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As I begin taking writing requests again, I thought it would be a good idea to detail my guidelines for requests as well as fandoms/characters I’m open to writing for (there are…quite a few). Before submitting any kind of request or commission, please take the time to read the below and ensure your request fits the guidelines. Any requests submitted that do not meet the listed guidelines will be deleted without notice.
Note: For commissions/paid requests there is a bit more wiggle room in guidelines since payment is involved. If there’s something outside my guidelines I’ll reach out and work with you to achieve a mutually satisfactory resolution. 
Content Guidelines:
I will write: 
Sexual content and themes
Violent content and themes
Alternate Universes
Fics involving my Original Characters (Paid requests can include OC content for your characters)
Specified Readers (Race/Gender/characteristic/etc)
Kink (this is a broad category with more “wills” than “wont’s”, submit the request and if something doesn’t jive I’ll reach out)
Reader insert and canon character ship fics (pairings I will write for are listed below)
I will not write:
Incest
P*dophilia
Specific medical conditions (depression/anxiety/broken bones yeah sure. But something specific that will require research is a no).
Homophopic content
Fandom/Character List: 
Charlie Hunnam Characters
Will Miller
Arthur Pendragon
Raymond Smith
Tom Hardy Characters
Alfie Solomons
Eddie Brock
Bane
Max
Eames
Tommy Conlon
Symbrock
Pedro Pascal Characters
Max Phillips 
Marcus Pike
Frankie Morales
Ezra
Javier Peña
Din Djarin
Pro Wrestling
Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose
Seth Rollins
Roman Reigns
Triple H (any era)
Randy Orton (any era)
William Regal (any era)
CM Punk (any era)
Colt Cabana
Eddie Kingston
Chuck Taylor
Bryan Danielson
Wade Barrett
CSI:
Nick Stokes
Greg Sanders
Gil Grissom
Catherine WIllows
Horatio Caine
Tim Speedle
Nick/Greg
Gil/Sara
Star Wars
Boba Fett
Obi-wan Kenobi
Fennec Shand
Poe Dameron
Finn
Din Djarin
Cal Kestis
Din/Luke
Dragon Age
Alistair Therin
Cullen Rutherford
Leliana
Josephine Montilyet
Varric Tethras
Isabella
Cassandra Penteghast
The Iron Bull
Kremissius “Krem” Alclassi
Dorian Pavus
Sebastian Vael
Anders
Slashers:
Michael Myers
Billy Loomis
Stu Macher
Bo Sinclair
Richie Kirsch
Triple Frontier
Will Miller
Benny Miller
Santiago Garcia
Frankie Morales
Mass Effect
Kaidan Alenko
Garrus Vakarian
Thane Krios
Shenko
Shakarian
Shrios
Cyberpunk 2077 
Johnny Silverhand
Viktor Vector
Jackie Welles
Panam Palmer
Saul Bright
Goro Takemura
River Ward
Misty Olszewski
Misty/Jackie
Misty/Jackie/V
Resident Evil:
Leon S. Kennedy
Chris Redfield
Albert Wesker
Jill Valentine
Carlos Olivera
Claire Redfield
Ada Wong
Leon/Ada
Chris/Jill
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another-da-sideblog · 3 years
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DAI Companions as Emojis
Dorian
🌈🐍🔥
Sera
🐝💥🍪
Varric
😏✍🏼🏹
Cassandra
😠⚔️⚖️
Cole
👻🥺✨
Vivienne
❄️🔪💁🏾‍♀️
Bull
🐉🍻😘
Blackwall
🧸🗡🤥
Solas
🥚
Bonus:
Solas after DA4
🍳
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elfrootaddict · 4 years
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youtube
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da-mage · 5 years
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*Insert evil laughter*
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senvellavellan · 5 years
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Senvel, stepping out of the Eluvian, arm disintegrating, legs shaking from exhaustion.
Cassandra and Blackwall grabbing him and helping him stand. Cassandra: What happened?!
Senvel: Found Solas.
Cassandra: and -?
Senvel: He's a fucking bastard
Senvel: *proceeds to collapse on the spot*
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rhunae · 5 years
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Cassandra Pentaghast
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tessa1972 · 5 years
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"DoDaCaBla" strikes again!
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I've just realised that Senvel has the sharpest fucking cheek bones holy crap. If Cassandra gives him a kiss on the cheek she risks cutting herself
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nudityandnerdery · 5 years
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Cassandra Pentaghast and General Amaya would be great friends.
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wildspaceyokel · 3 years
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Varric and Cassandra are my favorite problematic Dragon Age Romance. But are they really that problematic and not Star-crossed lovers?
I always like to take the two of them on each other’s personal quests and then go straight into Emprise du Lion. I imagine they are both in so much pain and really feeling the consequences of their lives at that point and come to see how much they have in common. And then when the Inquisitior finds that abandoned engagement ring in the Emprise something just breaks in their cold hearts and they realize the love they have always wanted and mourned for is right in front of each other.
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sharkvajay · 5 years
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I love Cullen (I would say not even as much as the next person (but I love him)) but I gotta say, it drives me a little nuts that his romance is objectively the best written. like. give that shit to Cassandra or Josie. Or Sera! Someone help Sera’s romance, pls. 
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incultas · 5 years
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cassandra penteghast is a wlw and that's just the fuckin tea
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elizahgodswood · 5 years
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The Blood Cure: Chapter 1
Word Count: 3188
Characters: Assan Lavellan, Leliana, Cassandra Penteghast
Contains: Gore, Blood
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“He’s moving…!”
“Keep steady. We don’t know what will happen once he’s fully conscious.”
    Assan groaned as he heard the words. They came at him slowly, echoing as though coming at him through a tunnel. All he could feel was cold floor pressed against his cheek. His head was throbbing. Something was digging into his wrists and ankles. What’s going on?
    Slowly, he pushed himself to his knees, wincing as cold metal handcuffs dug into his wrists. He was in a dimly lit room. Through the darkness he could see storage crates and pallets---some kind of store room? Surrounding him were close to twenty soldiers, all pointing their guns at him. His ankles were chained together, nailed to a spike in the floor. Creators, what have I gotten myself into now? He thought to himself.
    “Finally awake?” A harsh voice asked.
    A woman walked into his line of sight. She loomed over him, aiming her rifle right at his forehead. A shiver ran down his spine as he looked up the barrel of the gun, painfully aware of her finger sitting loosely on the trigger. What the fuck is happening?
    “What’s going on?” Assan demanded, though it came out sounding more like a nervous croak. Several of the soldiers snickered.
    “You damn well know what’s going on!” The woman snapped, kicking him to the floor. He grunted as his head struck the concrete floor. Stars danced before his eyes.  He could hear the woman’s heavy boots stomping toward him. “Tell me how you did this!”
    “Did what?” Assan snarled.
    Another kick to his back was his answer. He hissed as a sharp pain shot up his side. He could hear a faint hitch in her breath; she was failing to keep composure. Something had deeply upset her, and he was apparently tied in with it. If only he could remember what he'd done.
    “You will explain this to me now, or so help me, I will kill you,” She snarled, pressing the barrel of her gun against his cheek. A shiver went down his spine as the cold metal touched his skin. The Keeper and the Hahrens had warned him before he left about the ruthlessness of humans. Leave it to his rotten luck to ensure that he experienced their tales first hand.  
    “You tell me what’s going on, and I’ll answer your damn question,” Assan said slowly. “Last I recall, I was standing in the temple, listening to the discussions. What. Happened?”
“If you don't know what's going on, then explain the mark.”
    “I don’t even know what you're talking about! What mark?!” Assan cried. He couldn’t even see his hands. The longer he sat with the gun to his cheek, the more he feared she would pull the trigger if he didn't say what he wanted.
“Cassandra, that's enough!” Another woman spoke up. The gun pulled away from his cheek with a sharp jerk. A relieved sigh escaped him despite his best efforts to conceal it. A red haired woman helped him to a kneeling position. She looked him dead in the eyes, her face grim. “Do you remember anything---anything at all---about what happened up there? People, conversations, objects that seemed out of place?”
Assan paused, trying his best to recall anything of importance. He remembered painting over his vallaslin, sneaking into the temple with a few other elven servants to hear the talks, and then…. “I remember… a helicopter? There was more than one, I think. Sounded like heavy duty ones, not just any commercial choppers. A few guards went to investigate, but after that it goes black.”
“There's nothing else? Did you see anyone suspicious, or where they shouldn't be?”
“I was… running?” A shiver ran down Assan’s back. Yes, he remembered running as fast as he could, with shadows at his heels. “There was something... chasing me. But then there's nothing more. I'm sorry. Now will you tell me what's going on?”
The two women were silent for a moment. They exchanged defeated glances before Cassandra spoke “The Divine was trying to settle things between the mages and templars.... Then, the whole building was blown to pieces. A foul disease is spreading everywhere. In the midst of the chaos, we found you, healthy, but unconscious. Everyone else was either dead or sick.”
“What does any of this have to do with me?” Assan asked. Did they think he was responsible?
“There is a strange machine in the midst of the chaos; we believe that it is the cause of the sudden outbreak. Hoards of people are now roaming the streets, hysterical and deranged. The dead hunt the living. You are the only one in a state fit to interrogate. We want to know what happened.”
    Assan stared down at his hands. He couldn’t remember anything. No machine, no explosion, and certainly no sick people. A nasty, rippling scar cut diagonally across the palm of his left hand, something that definitely hadn’t been there at the start of the day. Was this the mark Cassandra had asked about? He looked between the two women, seeing how desperate they were for answers. Answers that he just didn’t have.
    “I don’t understand….” He said finally.
    “I think… we better show you, if you truly don’t know,” Cassandra turned and addressed her companion. “Go to front line, Leliana. We will meet you there.”
    The red haired woman drew the hood of her purple sweatshirt and nodded as she pulled a gas mask over her face. “Be careful, Cassandra.”
    She turned and left the room, followed by several soldiers. Cassandra unlocked the shackles around Assan’s ankles and gave him a look that clearly said “if you try anything, you’re a dead man” before unlocking the handcuffs. Assan rubbed his wrists. He doubted he would get very far with six armed soldiers and an even more heavily armed woman escorting him if he tried to run. They had him cornered.
    They pushed him from the room, guiding him down the hall. Soldiers ran to and from the various other store rooms. Not a single one’s face wasn’t grim as they carried supplies from one room to another. They stopped momentarily to let a line of soldiers carrying gurneys covered in white cloths pass by. A mangled hand hung limply from one of the gurneys, missing a great deal of flesh and a few fingers. The soldiers escorting Assan muttered amongst themselves, shifting with unease. A small trail of blood drops followed the gurneys. The sight made Assan’s stomach churn. Cassandra led the group onward, up the stairs to the next level.
They were in a hospital, but there wasn’t that usual feel to it. It was depressed, despaired. The main power supply was off, so only the emergency lights run by the generators were on, which definitely didn’t help with the atmosphere. The windows were all boarded up, covered in thick planks of wood and metal sheeting, only making the building darker--- not so much as a single shred of sky was visible. Not even the emergency lanterns or candles hanging from the walls did much to help pierce the gloom.
Aside from soldiers patrolling, few people lingered in the empty halls. Those that stood scattered about in the shadows kept their heads down, muttering to each other. As they passed, their heads would snap up, eyes glaring at Assan from under hoods and helmets. After a moment of staring daggers, they would return to their hushed conversations. The guards closed in around Assan, shooting warning stares at anyone who looked or lingered too long as they passed.
“Keep a fast pace, Elf,” One of the guards whispered. “Most of these folks blame you for this mess.”
“Yeah, I got that feeling….” Assan muttered.
Most of the doors to the rooms were open, filled with civilians huddled in groups as they wept or prayed. The corridors echoed with the sounds of hundreds of lamenting voices. Priests were chanting and singing, their voices hollow and void of the usual power and beauty he had once come to expect of the Chantry.
The group slowed as they passed through the reception area for the maternity ward. A large painting of the Divine had been hung on one of the walls. A Revered Mother and several sisters stood before a moderate crowd, leading a eulogy as those gathered wailed and sobbed. Candles and offerings sat on every available surface. The soldiers dipped their heads in respect as they passed through.
“Maker guide you, Most Holy,” Cassandra muttered, wiping a tear from her eye before it fell down her cheek.
The mournful singing and keening faded away as they continued on through the ward towards the next level. A line of soldiers stopped them as they neared the stairs. A gas mask hung around each of their necks. They stood up straighter as they spotted Cassandra and saluted.
“Lady Cassandra.” They all said.
“We are taking the prisoner to the roof,” Cassandra said.
“Very well, Lady Cassandra.” One of the soldiers thrust a mask into Assan's hands before he stepped aside to let them pass. Assan turned the mask over, unsure of why he would need such a thing. If people were sick, surely something like this was a little extreme? They ascended to the next floor, encountering less civilians, but more soldiers. Up here, the doors were all shut. No one was singing, or praying. It was eerily quiet, save for the hushed mutters coming from some of the rooms  The air up here was stale, reeking of rotten flesh and bile.
“You said there were lots of sick people. We’re in a hospital, but everyone looks healthy to me for the most part. Where are the sick?” Assan asked.
One of the soldiers gave a sharp laugh and thumbed over his shoulder at the closed off windows. “You don’t want the sick in this building, Elf. They’re out there for a reason.”
Assan opened his mouth to inquire further, but a comotion up ahead caught his attention. More soldiers with the gurneys were gathered around a mage, bickering with one another.  The men holding the gurneys bounced from foot to foot, eager to set down whatever it was they were transporting.
“I have no more room for bodies on this floor; all other corpses are being sent to the basement for storage until we finish examining the ones we have here,” The mage said tiredly. “Can’t you people communicate with one another? This is the fifth time I’ve had to turn bodies away in the last hour. I have work to do and every second spent pointlessly arguing with you here is less time I have to properly examine the bodies before decay starts to set in.”
“No one’s said a word about dumping the stiffs in the basement,” One of the soldiers growled. “You mages are the ones that can’t communicate. We just carried these bodies up three flights of stairs. The least you could do is be grateful. They aren’t light, you know.”
The two continued to bicker back and forth. Two other mages stepped out of the room to support their companion. Cassandra huffed out an impatient sigh and marched ahead, barking at the soldiers. They jumped at the sight of her barreling towards them, fists balled up and her lip curled up in a slight snarl. Assan raised a hand to his lips to keep from snickering at the sight.
“Lady Cassandra!” They said. One of them dropped their side of a gurney in their haste to salute. The other soldiers shouted in alarm as it tipped and the body tumbled to the floor. Assan had to bend over against the wall as he looked the corpse over. His stomach lurched, threatening to expel what little there was in it.
The woman’s throat and stomach looked like they had been eaten by wolves. Claw marks covered her arms and sides, but they didn’t look like those of any beast he’d ever seen. They looked eerily human. Her eyes were milky and yellowed, a perpetual look of twisted agony and terror frozen on her face.
“Creators, what the hell did that?” Assan asked.
“Biters,” One of the soldiers behind him said as she patted his back. “That’s why the sick are out there and not in here.”
“You’re telling me a person did all that?” Assan looked over his shoulder at her, eyes wide in horror. He could see her own face was as pale as his. The other soldiers shifted away from the sight as the mages dragged the body into the room, out of sight.
“Make sure you tell all the others that I ordered the bodies to be sent to the basement to be stored,” Cassandra said to the soldiers. “Dismissed.”
“Right away, Lady Cassandra!” With a scurry, the soldiers departed. Cassandra motioned for her retinue to continue onward after apologizing to the mages. Once the room was out of earshot, Cassandra leaned down to whisper in Assan’s ear.
“Do you see now why we had you chained?” She said.
“I think so,” Assan answered. “What drove people to this?”
“You will see soon enough. Come; to the roof, first.”
They stopped before the entrance to the roof access. The soldiers took up position on either side of the door, slipping their masks onto their faces. Cassandra motioned for Assan to go first once she had unlocked the door. He started up the stairs, noticing how uneasy the air felt once the door shut behind them. Only three of the six soldiers accompanied them up the stairs. The muffled sounds of screams and wails made the hairs on his neck stand on end. He slowed his pace, dreading reaching the roof. Did he really want to see what had happened?
Cassandra stopped him halfway up the stairs. She slipped her gas mask over her face. “Put your mask on before we go any further.”
“Why do I need this?” He pulled the mask on, but it did little to make him feel any safer. Was the disease airborne? Would the mask really make any difference?
“We believe we are far enough away, but it is better safe than sorry at this point,” Cassandra said, continuing up the stairs towards the door to the roof.
“Far enough away from what?”
“The Gas,” She replied. Assan decided it best to not put it off any longer. He needed to see what they were talking about. Cassandra unlocked the door, slowly ushering him and the other soldiers through it.
His heart stopped for a few seconds as he stared out at the city. Many of the buildings had their windows blown out, as though a giant shockwave had shattered them all. Some buildings had entire chunks missing; roofs had the shingles stripped away. Downed power lines sparked and crackled, showering the ground with sparks. The streets were littered with trash and debris, and the occasional corpse. Assan turned in a circle, drinking in the devastation.
He stopped when he saw the light in the distance.
Several miles away, by the wreckage of what once had been a beautiful old temple, an eerie green light glowed. A sickly green mist billowed out from the ruins, rolling down the hills and towards the edge of the small city. Strange shrieks and cries came from the mist, and down below in the streets. He could see people shambling through the streets now, banging against the walls of the buildings, tearing at themselves as they screamed and howled.  
“What is that?” He asked quietly.
“We don’t know,” Cassandra confessed. “So far, all we know is that something exploded, killing everyone there, except for you. The Divine, the others participating in the peace talks--- all dead. The shock wave reached out for miles, causing all the destruction you see. Then, the Gas came. At first, people were just sick, but within a matter of hours, those exposed to the gas went feral, attacking anyone in sight, like the corpse you just saw. We locked down the hospital and a few nearby buildings when their numbers grew too great for us to manage. We have not dared to attempt any further investigations to the temple since.  
“There is a machine in the midst of the ruins that we discovered before the lockdown. No one knows what it is, or how it survived the blast, but it is the source of the gas. Reports are pouring in from all over Ferelden, describing the same machines emitting this strange gas, though none are as large as this.”
“What exactly is the gas? A poison?” Assan just couldn’t wrap his head around any of it. He’d heard of chemicals that could drive people to this level of madness, but for it to be in such large quantities just didn’t make sense. People would notice movements of that kind of substance in large amounts.   
“It is a sickness; it turns the living into rabid cannibals. Those that die of disease come back to kill again. No one has shown immunity to the disease. Except for you.”
Assan looked over at her and frowned. “Me?”
“Our scouts found you at the epicenter; right in the thickest of the gas by the machine. Your hand was badly lacerated,” Cassandra stared out at the source of the fog, a mix of desperation and defeat in her eyes. “We kept you in isolation for several hours, but when it became clear that you weren’t showing any signs after the typical time frame, we knew you had to be immune. You could be our one hope of stopping this.”
“Immune…?” Assan stared down at the scar on his palm. He flexed his fingers and wrist slightly, at least glad that it hadn’t damaged any nerves. It seemed like now would be a bad time to be down one hand.
“We wish to go back again; to investigate the machine further,” Cassandra said. “We need you to go with us.”
“Why me?”
“We hoped you would know something about it. Even now that it is apparent you know nothing, having you there could lead us to something important,” Cassandra turned to him, her eyes pleading despite what appeared to be her best attempt at keeping a calm expression. “We need your help.”
“Still think I did this?” Assan asked, crossing his arms.  
“I am beginning to doubt your involvement.” A slight scowl twitched at her lips. She stuck her hand out. “Help us?”
Assan thought about it for a minute. He’d be willingly going out there into a horde of cannibals and a miasma of toxic gas that resurrected the dead.  But if his blood held a possible cure---or even just a clue to help find one--- to help stop this before it escalated any further, he’s be stupid not to try.
“Alright; I’ll help,” He shook her hand. “But I’ll need my stuff back.”
Cassandra forced a smile. “That can be arranged. Come; we need to speak with the others, and get everyone rounded up to head out. We leave at sundown.”
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emo-of-kirkwall · 5 years
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WHAT IS HAPPENING AGHFHDJDIODIDJDIDI
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