#he frequently keeps a mabari with him though

[vaguely-concerned]

Happy healing post-DA:I things for my Hawke and company

because if anyone ever deserved that soft epilogue it's these guys

Hawke giving Merrill a griffon feather from Weisshaupt

Hawke getting a new mabari puppy (maybe also kittens? can we work kittens into this as well?). Hawke and companions playing with and petting said puppy. said puppy falling asleep in people's laps. it dozes off on fenris' head once and he just lies there and lets it with great equanimity until it wakes again. varric and isabela try to teach it wicked grace. it's better at it than anders was.

Bethany can live at home now ;_______; the last of the Hawke family finally getting to actually live in their ancestral home together, after all their hopes and hard work in act one ;_________________________________; she could get married if she wanted to, she could have kids, she could have whatever part of a 'normal life' she feared she never would and her magic, not having to hide anymore ;__________________________________________; (a big thank u to leliana the murderpope my best homie <3)

Bethany bringing some of the apprentices she's taken under her wing and Merrill bringing some of the alienage kids who're in extra tricky circumstances, and the big empty house is not so empty anymore

Hawke training Bethany's apprentices and Merrill's wards in physical combat -- "My father always said that the real trick of magic is knowing when not to use it. Doesn't mean you can't throw a punch about it tho". the kids sometimes gang up on him when they're playfighting and bethany looks on like :') because he pretends to be vanquished & defeated, alas proud warriors your strength combined is too great, in exactly the same way he did with her and carver when they were little

Fenris and Hawke friendly sparring! Isabela watches while drinking rum.

Hawke hanging around the Viscount's office, pretending to be there just to make fun of Varric (and annoy Aveline let's not forget) but actually helping out unceasingly. don't tell anyone tho he has a reputation to uphold as a rich idiot with no day job even though he's been doing every fucking job in kirkwall for like a decade now, ssssh he has to feel like he's still fooling someone

First Wintersend party at the Hawke estate where most of the gang is together again. (My canon always has Hawke send Anders away at the end of DA2 and sometimes there's a romance involved for double heartbreak too so y'know. bittersweet there but at least the rest of the family gets to be together again.) Varric and Hawke mutually pretend they don't notice the other one getting teary-eyed during the dinner because sometimes that's what friendship is

kirkwall book club? kirkwall book club. fenris hasn't gotten to read a lot of books yet, so it sort of starts as people giving him recs, evolves to a covert war among the gang to get their fave books/series read first, and then it keeps escalating from there until they're all fully in it. isabela frequently derails it into friendfiction night.

what if merrill got to do some gardening. huh. what about that. I just think that would be nice.

varric writing some black fox stories just because he knows hawke likes them ;__; (you find the black fox codex entry in DA2 in Hawke's mansion and one of the DLC outfits you can get for them is said to have belonged to him as well, so I like to think Hawke has a weak spot for that Robin Hood/Zoro-esque thing deep down lol it would explain a lot about his life)

just varric and hawke hanging out honestly. varric writing while hawke lounges around in his room. every time he has to name a character or something and gets stuck he throws out the basic concept and hawke provides a name without missing a beat or indeed looking up from whatever he's doing. it's always brilliant or awful or brilliantly awful. varric does his shitty little he he he laugh and/or offers hawke his hand in marriage yet again and goes back to writing. all is right in the world, if only just for a while.

#my boy finally dodgeroll no hit run-ed his way out of main characterhood #and god good for him he gets to be with his family again #dragon age is one of those things I have so many feelings about I genuinely find it hard to talk about sometimes haha #unhappy that I am I cannot heave my heart into my mouth etc. #my chest just feels like an unending explosion in the fireworks factory #and all my words too clumsy and inadequate to let it out. alas #dragon age #dragon age 2 #on second thought let's not go to kirkwall; it is a silly place #hawke #I'm so desolate at having finished it again I just. never want that game to end. I want to see all of the rest of their lives. #I want to buy groceries with them and have a quest of varric pretending to do his taxes #solas fuck off you can't end the world. hawke and his family is in there.

[suck-on-a-fire-ball]

Because We're Family

I wanted some more Anders bonding with Hawke's Mabari so... have him realize he's not just a cat person anymore using... angst? 🙈💜

Pairing (s): f!Hawke/Anders Anders & Hawke's Mabari TW: a dog gets hurt in this, some (minor?)graphic depictions of that, blood and wounds. There’s also fighting and some bones breaking Summary: When Hawke's Mabari, Evan, jumps in front of Anders to save his life, the hound gets hurt in the process and Anders realizes just how precious this dog is to him... Maybe Anders no longer is just a cat person.

You can read it down below, or over on ao3 following this link!

An involuntary gasp of fear left Anders. Things seemed to move in slow motion, all sounds disappearing from around him aside from the anguished whimper that escaped the Mabari upon impact with the arrows. The battle continued, but Anders was no longer paying attention. He heard a faint call for Evan from Hawke, and the hound attempted to lift his head to look but failed miserably.

He convulsed on the ground beneath Anders’ fingers, trying to squirm away from the pain. That only made the wounds bigger, of course, but no matter how much Anders tried to tell the creature to stop moving, the dog didn’t. He wasn’t surprised, of course. Panic had settled in, no doubt.

“Stupid beast,” Anders cursed as he brought mana to his fingertips. “Why did you do that!?”

The whimpers continued and Anders tried not to let his mind get clouded by a panic of his own when he noted blood seeping past the creature’s fangs. “Steady…” Soothing the pain with magic, Anders pulled the arrows out, earning him a whimper each time despite the numbing spell. Piece by piece he threaded the veins back together, closing the wounds to the best of his ability, but his mana had limits, and so had the dog’s body. This would require a couple of healing sessions. But the dog would live.  

Just as he was about to let it be, satisfied that the dog would survive for now, a gust of wind touched his ear. He turned his head only to be reminded that he was still in the middle of a battle when coming face to face with the end of a dagger nearly puncturing his iris. He recoiled, slipping on his bloodstained hand…

But Hawke was there. Hawke was always there. Her fingers were curled around the fiend’s wrist, having saved Anders’ life. Both Hawke and the enemy were glaring daggers at each other. Soon only one of them would glare, the other crying out in agony as Hawke twisted her fingers, using nothing but her raw strength to separate the bones in the wrist from each other.

Satisfied he was safe, and that Marian had this under control, Anders noted the others were finishing off stragglers; the battle was over. Ambushes like these were not uncommon, but they were unwelcome. Though, usually, they had no problems fighting them off.

This time, Anders had been distracted. His mind had been on Marian, keeping any arrows from even coming close to her… which had apparently only resulted in missing the arrows coming for him.

Marian did not need such protection. And he was blatantly reminded of that when the mage tugged the enemy away from Anders by his broken wrist, pushed him up against the wall, closed her fingers around his throat, and pulled him up to dangle in the air… all without magic.

“Don’t touch him,” she growled before snapping his neck with force magic, his body falling to the dusty grounds of Darktown.

As if nothing had happened, she turned and rushed over to him and Evan, demeanour changing from that of a gruesome fighter, to that of a doting mother. Leandra’s genes were shining through when Hawke fell to her knees by the dog and let out a startled gasp at the blood, shaking fingers quickly starting to pet Evan’s head to reassure him she was there.

Anders cleared his throat. “He’ll be okay. A couple more healing sessions and he’ll be back to normal.”

The dog’s whimpers had not died down yet, but they were fainter and not as frequent. “What happened?”

Anders shook his head. “Damned dog jumped in front of me.” He couldn’t decipher neither his own anger toward the Mabari he had come to terms with by now, nor Marian’s facial expression. “What a foolish thing to do! He could have died!”

Marian tilted her head, that mysterious look still very much present.

“That was the last of them,” said Aveline as she approached, her breath hitched from the fight. “I’ll alert Donnic to this, and get it cleaned up… This is becoming a regular task, you know?”

“I don’t do it on purpose,” Marian answered.

“Sometimes I think you do,” replied Aveline with a little smile.

Anders missed most of the conversation, his eyes back to the dog’s pained eyes.

“I’m going to bring Evan back,” said Marian, “Can you two handle the rest?”

Isabela scoffed, “Do you have to ask, Sweet Thing?”

Before Marian could make a move to lift Evan, Anders was right there, picking the hound up himself. He struggled. Greatly. But eventually got to his feet, dog cradled in his arms. “Maker…” he panted, “what do you feed him?”

“Sometimes cheese,” she joked.

“I said no cheese, Marian. It’s not good for his digestion.” That mysterious look reappeared on Marian’s face, and Anders did nothing more but look away and start walking, grumbling about ‘stupid dogs’ and ‘foolish Hawkes’.

…

Marian watched as Anders carried her Mabari all the way back home to the mansion. There, he even placed the dog on their bed (which was unheard of when it came to Anders), with a blanket over him to ‘keep him warm’. She watched as Anders used more mana to check he hadn’t opened any wounds on the way home, crossing her arms over her chest, eyes glinting knowingly.

“Six months ago, you would have never even touched Evan,” she said victoriously. “Look at you now.”

Golden brown eyes flickered over to her before avoiding once more, keeping their focus on Evan. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You love him.”

She nearly snorted at how offended Anders looked. “No I don’t. It’s a dog!”

“He is a Mabari. Highly intelligent. Highly protective of his pack. And very much capable of choosing not to jump in front of a person to save their life.” Cockily, she moved over to the bed and sat down beside Anders and the dog. She tilted her head to lock her gaze with his, and offered him another smirk. “He loves you too.”

“Why?” Anders’ question was quiet and his eyes were almost as vulnerable as when he had given in to his love for Marian.  

“Because you’re his family now too. We’re family. And he wants you safe.” Anders sniffled, avoiding her gaze once more, before he tentatively reached out a hand to the dog’s ears, offering a gentle stroke. Evan glanced at Anders, before calmly closing his eyes to fall asleep under his family’s watchful eyes.

“I’m not going to get any sleep tonight,” Anders murmured. “Why does a dog have this hold on me?”

Marian just chuckled and offered him a hug. They had a long night ahead of them, neither wanting to fall asleep in case they missed Evan getting worse. Despite how awful this was, at least something good had come out of it.

Anders had accepted the dog was his family.

#Dragon Age #Dragon Age 2 #Anders #Female Hawke #Mabari #Fic #Anders Writing

[pikapeppa]

From the Three Word Prompts for Rynne and Fen :) 1. Hiding, Fog, Say or 20. Tempestuous, Rabbit, Hurt

Ahhh sorry it took me so long to fill this!! For @dadrunkwriting Friday.

This is a fill for the prompt words “hiding, fog, say”. It takes place during the ~2 years between DA2 and DAI, when Fenris and Hawke are on the run from the Chantry. 

~2000 words; read on AO3 instead. 

**********************

It was still raining.

Fenris was disgruntled, but not surprised; the stretch of mountainous terrain between Ostwick and Markham was known for its unusually wet weather, and it was partly why he and Hawke had decided to travel in this direction after their hasty departure from the outskirts of Wildervale. Constant rain meant that anyone pursuing them would have difficulty tracking their progress, even if the rain meant a risk of leaving footprints behind. But Fenris had been extra-careful to ensure that they were either following rocky paths where they would leave no marks, or leaf-and-mulch-laden ones where their prints would go unseen, so he was fairly certain that they were safe for now.

He glanced over his shoulder into the cave where he, Hawke, and her mabari had taken refuge for the night. The cave was a sufficient size for a night’s rest: large enough that Hawke could nearly stand upright inside of it, and deep enough that her and Toby’s sleeping bodies couldn’t be seen unless someone stepped inside.

And that certainly wasn’t going to happen, not with Fenris keeping guard at the cave’s entrance. 

He adjusted his hood to better cover his hair, then settled his cloak around himself. The cloak was damp, but no matter; the discomfort would help to keep him awake until she woke for her turn keeping guard. Or until the morning, even. Fenris wasn’t particularly tired, so perhaps he would keep guard all night instead of waking her. 

He gazed up at the sky through the gentle drizzle of rain. Not a single star was visible; the sky was a matte black canvas blurred by clouds, and as Fenris watched, a wash of lightning set the sky alight. 

A few seconds later, a low rumble of thunder met his ears. A few seconds after that, the sky trembled with light, then lit up again as a distinct branch of lightning bisected the cloudy sky. 

Fenris continued to watch the sky in silence. The longer he watched, the more surprised he felt: the lightning continued to flash and flicker every few seconds, like a guttering candle that illuminated the entire sky. 

He raised his eyebrows. It had been at least five straight minutes now, and the lightning was nonstop. 

Strange, he thought. He’d only seen a lightning storm like this once before, and he hadn’t thought to see it again, particularly not in a climate that wasn’t tropical.

A few minutes later, minutes during which the lightning and its accompanying thunder continued to roll through the damp nighttime air, he heard a shifting of fabric and a sigh. 

He glanced into the cave. Toby was still fast asleep, but Hawke was stirring in the makeshift pallet of their bedrolls. A moment later, she sat up on one elbow, and despite the unmitigated gloom of the cave, Fenris could see her sleepy smile. 

He smiled faintly at her in return. “Go back to sleep, Hawke,” he said quietly. Then he turned back to face the sky.

A moment later, however, she was sitting down beside him and adjusting her own cloak over her dark hair. 

Fenris gave her a chiding look. “You ought to rest,” he said. “It will be a hard morning’s walk if you want to reach the coast before midday.”

“Oh, you know me,” she said cheerfully. “I do my best long-distance walking when I’m punch-drunk from a lack of sleep.”

Fenris didn’t laugh. “I would prefer if you slept,” he said.

“And I would prefer if you let me just dry this cloak out,” she said. She wrinkled her nose and plucked at his cloak. “It’ll only take a tiny hint of magic–”

“Hawke, I said no,” Fenris said firmly. “I will not have you leaving any traces for the Templars to find.”

She sighed. “Fine. Then let me cuddle up to you and keep you warm, at least.”

He relaxed, relieved that she wasn’t going to argue with him about using magic tonight. “I can agree to that,” he said, and he opened his cloak. 

Hawke nestled against his side and draped her legs over his lap, and he adjusted his cloak around her shoulders. When they were settled together comfortably, she poked him lightly in the abs. “Just so you know, I love you even when you’re bossy.”

He grunted. “I thought you particularly loved me when I am bossy.”

“When you’re bossy while fucking me, certainly,” she said. “When you’re bossy about wearing a damp cloak for no reason? Not so much.”

“An important distinction,” he said dryly. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

She smirked at him, and they fell silent for a time. The rain continued to fall, and lightning continued to flicker across the sky.

“Wow,” Hawke said eventually. “This lightning will not let up.”

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Fenris said.

She nodded. “It really is. I’ve never seen a lightning storm that went on this long before.”

“I have,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows. “You have?”

“Yes,” he said. “Once before, in Seheron. When I was with the fog warriors.”

Her eyes widened. “Ooh, tell me about it. Storytime with Fenris, please.”

He shot her a chiding smirk. “Thunderstorms are commonplace in Seheron, thanks to the climate,” he said. “The island is usually hot, and always humid. Storms were frequent, and you always knew when they were about to strike from the weight in the air. It becomes heavy, like a damp sort of pressure you can feel between your ears.”

“Like when we have particularly hot summer storms here in the Free Marches?” Hawke said.

Fenris tilted his head thoughtfully. “Yes, in fact. But imagine that every other day.” 

She whistled. “Damn.”

He nodded. “The storms usually do not last long in Seheron: often only for a few minutes. They would come as heavy curtains of rain with thunder and lightning, then dissipate before you could even finish drying your armour.”

“Those storms sound like the fog warriors themselves,” Hawke remarked. “In with a blast, then gone before you know it.”

“That is true,” he said with a small smile. “There was one night when the fog warriors and I launched an attack on a squad of qunari. They were in the fog warriors’ territory, and there was talk among the beresaad of setting up an outpost. We descended upon them in the dead of night, and in the midst of battle, a storm began.”

Hawke pulled a face. “Ah. Messy.”

“Yes,” Fenris said, “but we fought on regardless. Storms are no impediment to the fog warriors, nor to the discipline of the qunari. But the lightning that accompanied that storm…” He shook his head slowly. “It was incessant. Endless flashes in the sky that lit up everything in sight, including us. And for some reason, that lightning… it made me…” He trailed off for a moment as he tried to articulate the way the lightning had made him feel. It had lent the fight such a surreal quality, like flashes of clarity amidst the dark, and for some reason, Fenris had felt… charged, almost, or galvanized by the constant flicker and flash of the lightning during that one particular fight. 

Hawke tilted her head curiously, and Fenris hastily picked up the story. “I decided to use my lyrium marks in the fight,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows. “But I thought you didn’t like to use your tattoos when you were with the fog warriors.”

“I didn’t,” Fenris agreed. “I didn’t want to draw undue attention, either from the warriors who had taken me in or from our enemies. But for some reason, that lightning…” He shrugged. “It inspired me in an odd way. I used my marks to fight the qunari, and it caught them off guard. Made them hesitate where normally they wouldn’t. They expected magic from Tevinter, but not from us.” He idly ran his palm along Hawke’s arm. “We used their hesitation against them. Crushed them swiftly in the skirmish, leaving none alive. But when the fight was done, I was… afraid.”

“Afraid?” Hawke said. “Why?”

“I had never used the marks before in front of the fog warriors,” he said. “I was afraid of how they might react. That they might turn me away.”

Hawke nodded slowly. “They didn’t, though.”

“No,” Fenris said. “They laughed, in fact. They said I had lightning in my skin. They congratulated me for the surprise attack, and that was the end of it. Even so, I never used the marks again in their presence.” Not until Danarius came, he thought with a dull pang of guilt.

Fortunately, he didn’t need to voice his final melancholy thought; Hawke squeezed his knee, and her smile was soft with understanding. 

Fenris gave her a half-smile in return. “The strangest part was that the lightning continued, even when the battle was done,” he told her. “We returned to our camp and cleaned our weapons and ourselves, and still the lightning was tearing its way across the sky. An hour of nonstop lightning, not unlike this.” He gestured at the lightning-laced sky. “It was… well, stunning, as I said. An unusual and beautiful sight.”

Hawke didn’t reply right away. Surprised by her silence, Fenris glanced at her.

She was smiling at him, one of her more soft and goofy smiles, and Fenris’s heart did a little flip. “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

She shrugged and continued to smile at him. “You’ve never told me this story before.”

He raised his eyebrows. “It wasn’t a secret. I didn’t mean to keep it from you.”

“No, I know,” she said quickly. “I just mean… It’s funny. We’ve known each other for so long, but you still have stories I haven’t heard from before we met.”

“Ah,” he said. Then he smirked at her. “I’m sure you do as well. Delinquent tales of your youth in Lothering.”

She laughed. “Delinquent tales! Foolish tales of the village idiot, you mean.”

“I meant no such thing,” Fenris said. “You said that yourself.”

She laughed again and fondly pinched his chin. “Fuck off, you,” she said fondly.

Fenris chuckled and kissed her temple, and they fell quiet once more as the lightning continued to light up the sky.

Once again, it was Hawke who broke the silence. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

He gently squeezed her arm. “That there was once a time that we didn’t know each other,” he said softly. “It is difficult to imagine now.”

She chuckled. “Difficult to imagine a life without my clever and charming commentary being constantly piped into your ear?” she quipped.

“Yes,” Fenris said seriously. “Extremely difficult.” 

Her smile widened, but she dropped his gaze. “Smooth talker. Well, you’d probably be somewhere warm and dry right now instead of hiding in a wet cave with the most attractive and wanted apostate this side of the Free Marches.”

Fenris studied her face carefully as he replied. “If that is what my life would be, I wouldn’t want it.”

She let out another tiny laugh. She still wasn’t looking at him. “You wouldn’t want to be warm and dry?”

He tipped her chin up so she was forced to look at him. “Not if it meant being without you,” he said softly. 

Her beautiful smile melted away, and Fenris’s heart twisted at the vulnerability in her face. He gently stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “I do not regret this, Hawke,” he said. “The running and the hiding… I do not regret this. I need you to know that.”

“I know,” she said.

“I need you to believe it,” he said quietly. 

She licked her lips, then offered him a feeble smile, and he noted with a pang that her eyes were bright. “I’ll… work on that. I promise,” she said.

He nodded, then wrapped his arms around her in a hug. She twined her arms around his neck and pressed her face to his shoulder, and Fenris breathed in the scents of wet stone and the sandalwood in Hawke’s hair. 

Outside the shelter of their cave, the rain continued to fall in a constant gloomy drizzle, but Fenris ignored it. Instead, he kept his eyes on the ever-present lightning that continued to illuminate the sky in a constant flux of chaos and beauty. 

He held Hawke in his arms and ignored the rain, and he kept his eyes on the sky.

#fenris #fenris fic #fenhawke #dadwc #da drunk writing circle #fenrynne #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris x f!hawke #fenris/f!hawke #fhawris #f!hawris #pikapeppa writes

[warpedlegacy]

WIP Whenever

Because I’m bad at time. And keeping track of it. And completing things.  Okay so I am making progress on Reprisals Book Two, but the thing keeping more of my attention than I expected was my domestic series for post-Trespasser, While Time Remains. And I just wanted to share this scene with y’all: Cullen finally reuniting with his family (well, just Mia in this scene), and introducing them to his wife. I had to cut it down quite a bit to fit within the post limits of my ff server, so anyone from there, here is the full(er) version! (PS - “Cal” is the name I’ve given the mabari hound he adopts in Halamshiral during Trespasser. Yes, it’s short for Calenhad. Yes, Cullen is very predictably Fereldan.) Thanks for the tag @dreadfutures! I’m gonna wait on more tags since I’m late on this one lol.  South Reach is thoroughly rural Ferelden. Cullen takes in the vast fields, the scattered cottages, the humble mill churning its wheel, and thinks “home”. Despite the fact that this was not where he grew up. Despite the fact that he has never been here before. It all feels so achingly familiar that his heart swells. 

Inquiries in the market square lead them to the right house. It sits on the north side of a field of barley, hemmed in from behind by the coniferous forest and from the west by a run-off from the Drakon River. Very well-situated. Mia must have fought tooth and nail for a spot this choice. Cullen smiles thinking of this, then grimaces, knowing the reception waiting for him is like to be anything but peaceful. 

“They’ll be happy to see you.” Tess rides beside him, steady reassurance in her quiet strength. Subtle highlights in her dark hair catch the sunlight and remind Cullen of coals burned low in the hearth. Her bronze skin glows, but her eyes are dark and piercing as ever as she watches him. 

“Oh, I’m sure they will be,” he allows. “Eventually.” 

“After they finish lecturing you for not writing you mean?” 

“Partly…” Cullen rubs at the back of his neck. He’d been dreading this confession, but now there was no avoiding it. “And also for not telling them we’re coming.” 

Stunned silence follows, and he can’t bring himself to look in Tess’s direction. He doesn’t have to - he feels the growing aggravation about to boil over. 

“You didn’t tell them?” She sounds somehow incredulous and not at all surprised. “Do they even know we’re married?” 

More silence. 

“Cullen!” 

Her disapproval claps electric like one of her spells. He flinches, far too guilty to put up much of a fight. “I know, I should have told them. But with all that was going on there wasn’t time to write before our departure.” 

“What is Mia going to think of me…” 

“Of you?” Now Cullen glances her way, and sees his mistake. The anxiety is writ clear in her face - itself enough of an exception to be worrying - and her hand grips the reins fiercely as she purses her lips into a thin line. “Ah, I wouldn’t worry, love. It’s with me she’ll place the blame, I assure you. You’ve nothing to fear of her wrath.” 

He reaches across the space to grasp her… Right. He’s on her left side, not her right. She notices his hesitation and his heart wrenches as her face withdraws into despondency. His worry for her grows. She’s been like this since Halamshiral, and every effort on his part to assist her is met with stubborn denial and more withdrawal. She’s pulling away from him, and he doesn’t know how to stop it. 

“Tess…” 

“It’s fine.” She releases a harsh puff of air that fogs briefly in the morning chill. “There’s nothing for it now.”

They exchange no more words as they make the final approach to the cottage. It’s a modest log and thatch structure, longer than it is wide, roof rising high to accommodate a second floor. Smoke wafts up from a narrow chimney in the center.  The walls are plastered smooth, a gleaming white beacon amidst the crisp green and gold foliage. Laundry hangs across lines in the garden, which is separated by a low stone wall. 

The word “pristine” occurs to Cullen, and he smiles despite his worry. 

A figure toils in the garden with a hoe, and as they draw near Cullen nearly chokes, thinking he’s seeing his mother. But then she straightens and raises a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, and he realizes it’s Mia. All grown up, unlike his memories of her. 

She’d only been fifteen when they last saw each other. 

She spies their approach and he hears her surprised gasp even from yards away. The hoe falls to the dirt, forgotten, and she hikes up her skirts to vault the garden wall and race toward them. Cal utters a low growl at the sudden approach, but Cullen dismounts to get him quickly to heel. 

“As I live and breathe…” Mia pants and slows her approach, staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at a brother she’d thought thoroughly lost to her more times than she cares to count. 

Up close, her resemblance to their mother is even more striking. Wheat-blonde curls fall to her waist, fighting free of the scarf tying them back. Her sleeves are rolled up past the elbows, forearms bearing the strength and tone of long hours toiling under the sun. Her eyes, the same rich, whiskey brown. Her mouth curled up at the corners, a perpetually patient smile always at hand.

“Hello Mia.” Cullen straightens with his own far more awkward smile, releasing Cal to sniff experimentally at this familiar stranger. 

Mia takes it all in at a glance - Cullen’s height, his broad shoulders, his untamed curls so like her own, sideways grin so like their father’s - then her eyes drift toward a figure she recognizes only by description. Dark-eyed, wild-haired, fiercely stoic… and an unmistakable aura of legend. 

The Inquisitor. Theresa Trevelyan. Or, as Cullen has frequently slipped up in his letters, “Tess”. 

She dismounts with practiced grace, and that is when Mia notes the knot tied in her left sleeve, an arm that ends just above the elbow. But she sees the prideful lift of her chin and knows this woman wants no pity. 

“My Lady Inquisitor.” Mia nods and wipes her hands before offering her right to shake in greeting. “What a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

“Likewise.” The Inquisitor takes her hand and dips her head. A surprisingly warm smile lights up her face, and Mia can see what drew Cullen so thoroughly into her orbit. “Though just Theresa will do.” 

Mia nods, accepting this instantly, before turning to Cullen with a much sterner expression. 

“You might’ve told me you were coming! Rosie’s gone to market in town, and Bran won’t be able to make it for at least a fortnight, what with the new baby!” 

Cullen accepts the scolding with good-natured exasperation, wearing an expression Theresa has seen many times whilst reading letters from his elder sister. A true matriarch, she somehow looms before the man despite being half a head shorter. Theresa understands a little better why he was always able to withstand Leliana’s and Josephine’s teasing with such fond patience. 

“I wanted to write, but there wasn’t time,” he tries to get in, but Mia is already verbalising all the new accommodations she will need to prepare. 

She barely stops to breathe even as she leads them and their mounts toward the cottage. There is a lean-to stable in the back where a plow horse is already housed, nibbling on fresh hay. A cat naps in the pile nearby, taking advantage of a patch of sunlight. 

When Cullen lets slip about the elopement, Mia launches into a fresh tirade. 

“But I told you I planned to propose!” he protests, receiving a gentle swat upside the head for the audacity. 

“Yes, but I foolishly assumed maybe you’d be holding off on the wedding until your family could be there!” Mia huffs.

“It’s not entirely his fault,” Theresa jumps in, looking fully guilty herself. “Circumstances were a bit… urgent. We didn’t want to wait.” 

That gives Mia pause, and she has to remind herself of how chaotic - and dangerous - their lives are compared to hers. At last, she lets herself smile, beaming from ear to ear as she reaches out and finally hugs her brother. 

“Welcome home, Cullen,” she says. 

He nearly crushes her as he returns the embrace. “It’s good to finally be back.” 

“And you, come here.” 

She draws Theresa in as well, but this embrace is more awkward as she seems not to know what to do with half an arm. New injury, must be. Mia makes her hug all the fiercer to make up for it. 

“My sister,” she declares, and plants a kiss on her cheek for good measure. “Welcome to the family.” 

Unexpectedly, tears well up in Theresa’s eyes and she cannot help the happy sob that escapes. It’s too much, this feeling of unquestioned acceptance. She’s never had this before - not so soon, so easily. She catches the glint of understanding in Cullen’s eyes before the tears make it impossible to see, and she reaches up to wipe them away. 

“Oh, you just let it all out my dear.” Mia looks from one to the other, belatedly realising how exhausted they both look, before nodding to herself. “You two finish stabling the horses. I’ll get your bed ready. There’ll be tea and stew waiting for you when you’re done.” 

And in a flurry of motion she’s gone, leaving Theresa to fall into Cullen’s waiting embrace until the shudders stop. 

#wip whenever #theresa trevelyan #dai #fanfic #cullen rutherford #domestic fluff #while time remains

[vulptilla]

I know they don't give numbers, but I wanna ask a lot, so you'll have to count the bulletpoints of each section sorry not sorry. Katla x Thrask - PRE-SHIP: 2, 4 / LOVE: 1, 5 / DOMESTIC: 4, now Katla x Blackwall - PRE-SHIP: 2 / GEN: 3, 8 / LOVE: 3, 4 / DOMESTIC: 4, now Iliana x Josie - PRE-SHIP: 2, 4 / GEN: 2, 3 / LOVE: 1, 3, 4, 9 (I hope this format helps make things neater, but klgkljdfg it's hard with ask boxes)

Aw yes, thank you! 💜 Loved replying all these, even though it took basically forever.

Katla x Thrask

What was their first impression of each other?

At first, Katla was just as suspicious about Thrask as she would have been about any templar snooping around near where Merrill lived, asking questions about mages. She was mildly surprised when it turned out that Thrask was, in fact, trying to help Feynriel and actually sympathizing with the lad, but that was pretty much it. She agreed to help him, alright, but only because she, too, sympathized with Feynriel.

Thrask, on the other hand, used to frequent the Hanged Man, so it was nearly impossible for him to avoid overhearing Varric’s stories about Katla being busy helping people in need all around Kirkwall. In fact, he had heard about her long before they actually met each other, and it was only then that he figured out that she was a mage. He hadn’t expected it, but it didn’t bother him, either. In his opinion, Kirkwall could always have used more kind and benevolent people, mages or not mages.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

I have no doubt Katla would have laughed her ass off at such a ridiculous claim. Even after the two became casual acquaintances of sorts, she couldn’t ever have imagined falling for a templar, of all people, no matter how different he was from his peers or how pleasant company he might have been. She had never really thought about it, not even entertained the idea, until it happened.

Thrask had never thought about it, either, and if somebody had told him that would be the case, it would probably have made him uncomfortable. He would have brushed it off as total nonsense. Not because they were practically on the opposite sides of a brewing conflict, but because she was so much younger than him and, in his opinion, completely out of his league in all imaginable ways.

Who said “I love you” first?

Katla.

Who’s better at comforting the other?

Thrask.

Do they have any pets?

Well, not exactly, but after Katla’s Mabari hound finally accepted Thrask, they got along incredibly well. (I seriously need to pick a proper name for the doggo. I doubt “Katla’s Mabari” is something I want to stick with, lmao. Pet names are tricky.)

...I think I’m going to put the rest under a cut to not clutter everyone’s dashes with my nonsense.

Katla x Blackwall

What was their first impression of each other?

At first, Katla didn’t pay much attention to Blackwall, nor did Blackwall to her, though he noticed that unlike most of the mages he had fought alongside with over the years, Katla seemed to prefer fighting in the front lines. He could respect that.

What was their first kiss like?

Uncharacteristically chaste. The next dozen that followed were less so.

Who gets jealous easier?

Neither, I think. Blackwall isn’t the type. Katla used to have the tendency, but she had mostly overcome her insecurity issues at the point they engaged in a relationship. She’s too old for that shit.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

They both prefer privacy, but after Blackwall’s true identity had been revealed and most of their companions either shunned or openly despised him for it, Katla would occasionally show her support (and let the others know where she stands) by taking his hand or kissing him in public. He keeps reminding her that she doesn’t have to, and she keeps reminding him that she knows she doesn’t.

What are their favorite things to do together?

They are the kind of couple that enjoys not doing anything in particular. It’s been a rough couple of years decades for them both. They really enjoy their precious moments of peace together. 

Do they have any pets?

Katla wanted to spare her old Mabari from the hardship of the journey to Skyhold, so she left him in Aveline’s care. But! After Corypheus was defeated, they retired from active service and moved to Ferelden, where they lived a simple, peaceful life. WITH CHICKENS. (Artwork by the lovely and talented @livia-arida! 💜)

Iliana x Josephine

What was their first impression of each other?

To put it mildly, Iliana was a huge fucking mess when she first met Josie. She had lived an uneventful, secluded life as a Tranquil in the Ostwick Circle of Magi, and now, she was suddenly not just cured of her Tranquility, which is known to leave people in a vulnerable state, but also both accused of the murder of the Divine and hailed as the supposed Herald of Andraste. Everyone either feared or shunned her or impatiently waited for her to make herself useful by closing the rifts, and at first, literally the only one who showed her kindness and patience was Josie. Iliana was eternally grateful for that.

Josephine, on the other hand, felt sympathy (and pity) for Iliana. She could only imagine what it was like, to be dragged along into such a mess.  

Who felt romantic feelings first?

Iliana.

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

They did! During a mission to Val Royeaux, they took an evening off to have a nice dinner in one of those fancy restaurants. It was all very proper, much courtly. Iliana had to do some serious research for it, and she maybe screwed up with the etiquette just a little bit, but it all turned out to be utterly perfect in the end.

What was their first kiss like?

After successfully thwarting a political disaster together, Iliana was overjoyed. She told Josie that she was so relieved that she could have kissed her. Josie told her, coyly, that she wouldn’t mind if Iliana did just that... and that she might even have hoped for it. 

Who said “I love you” first?

Iliana.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

Quite often, in fact.

What are their favorite things to do together?

Walking the battlements at sunrise, braiding each other’s hair, and sailing. Iliana was terrified by the sea at first, but she quickly overcame her fear.

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

I think they might prefer using names, save for the occasional ‘sweetheart’ every now and then.

#dragon age #my oc: katla hawke #my oc: iliana trevelyan #thanks for asking!! #this took some time but it was very entertaining! #<33333

[greenteabtch]

CHAPTER 3 OF The Streets Don’t Rest in Denerim is UP AND READY FOR ACTION!

Guys I’m actually enormously proud of how this chapter turned out, so I hope you’ll give me a chance and a read q-q!! ALSO big thanks to

@sweethawke

and

@esmeralda-juniper

for reading and reassuring me❤️ your advice is so appreciated and loved!

For those of you that haven’t heard of my fic, (which is probably everyone), it’s a Detective Alistair and Cullen/Modern Thedas AU!

Short version:

Cullavellan, and Alistair/Amell.

Slightly longer summary:

Newly minted Detective Alistair Theirin has the chance to live up to the dying promise he made to his mentor when Sergeant Pentaghast slaps a case file down on his desk containing the most gruesome murder Denerim has ever seen, with hints of more on the way. The only thing standing in his way? A stubborn partner who sees nothing out of the ordinary, a political corruption scheme shooting so high it makes his head spin, a woman who has stolen his heart but is determined to make him hate her, a resurgence of unprecedented street gang activity, and a mabari who keeps eating his pop tart supply.

Actually, he doesn’t know about any of that yet, so as far as Alistair is concerned, no. Nothing stands in his way at all.

In This Chapter….

Denerim’s dynamic duo interrogates the latest suspect in Moe’s murder, though tension brews between the golden boys. Afterward, Alistair grabs a bite and buries himself in nostalgia to combat the blues of detective work.

And now… a snippet to hook you in:

“It’s the truth! I’ve never even heard of this Moe person, let alone knew he was dead!” 

 Cullen clicked his tongue, leaning forward on his forearms and staring the man down.  

“Mr. Wells, you’re claiming you’ve never heard of a fellow business owner, who operates a bakery just down your street, who frequented your own store weekly and even won countless awards for his craft. Do you take me for a fool?”  

The man trembled across the table as Cullen continued, “Evasion is a felony under Ferelden law, Section 5c, Mr. Wells. Now would you like me to charge you with it? Or will you cooperate with us? ” 

Wells’ shaking had turned the chair’s annoying squeaks into a screech as he unraveled before Cullen. Alistair shook his head pitifully for the poor sap. That was the power of the ‘Lion of Denerim,’ one little growl would have you spilling your deepest and darkest secrets all over the flimsy interview room table. After several minutes of silence on his end, Wells managed to eke out an answer. 

“M-My apologies–” 

“Enough with the apologies. Tell us why you ran.” 

Cold. But justice often was.

#EDIT: I reformatted it bc for some reason tungle decided to spit it out in a giant block of text fhh!! sorry for retagging u guys <3 #my fanfic #my writing #i kind of went off on this one #the streets don't rest in denerim #alistair theirin #cullen rutherford #solana amell #elayna lavellan #cullavellan #spare alistair feels? alistair feels? #alistair/amell #dragon age

[ramblinganthropologist]

Writober 2020 - Moon

Summary: Anders just wanted to pick some plants. He didn’t expect to realize he had a crush on Avery Hawke. 

(Note: it’s a weird Fenhanders 4x4 in the end. It’s all consensual, and it works out just fine. But we’re not there yet.)

---

There is one over there.

There were a lot of them everywhere; it was kind of the point.

Anders could already feel a dull ache in his lower back as he bent to examine the plants in front of him. Without the light of a brilliant full moon high above his head, he would have missed the delicate leaves he had seen hours before only on the pages of a book. These, he had read, were good for the fevers and coughs that would plague all of Darktown come the colder months. With any luck, he would be able to pick and dry them before them.

That was if he was able to pick them, though. He wasn't exactly getting any younger...

“What, too far away from the ground to get it?”

The voice came from the left and was amplified by the solid bark of Ferelden's heraldic nightmare. Anders hadn't come alone that night – his companion had refused to let him do so. She was mostly there for protection, but... well she was lower to the ground than him.

He found her where she had stopped, sitting on a fallen tree stump and watching him as he examined the plants. Under the light of the moon, Avery's eyes were glowing. No doubt she had seen the light reflect off the leaves long before he had.

And of course, she hadn't deigned to tell him. Warriors.

“Just trying to pick the best one.” His back said otherwise. “But I am more than willing to take average specimens if you care to help.”

No surprise came when Avery hopped off the stump and bounded over to him, her faithful mabari Chewy at her heels. Much to his relief, the dog didn't start to paw at his bounty when she got close. That would have been problematic to say the least.

“Sure, it's those ones that are all shiny in the moonlight, right? How many do you need?”

As many as possible.

Justice was wide awake from the constant hum in Anders' head. He was used to it, but something about the warrior always woke the spirit up. He usually boiled it down to her being a reaver and left it at that. Any other thought gave him a headache.

Still, they had a point. “Leave enough for the animals and anyone who comes by, but it's going to be another bad cold season for sure.”

“Got it.” She got to picking; being lower to the ground, it was easier for her. “Good thing Moses was busy with Fen tonight, huh? He never would've gotten down here, would've had to freaking bend him in half or something.”

…

Maybe it was the exhaustion setting in, but Anders could practically see the large man folded in half in an attempt to pick the plants under the moonlight. He found himself similarly doubled over ,though this time in laughter that erupted from deep within his stomach. Breathing became difficult as tears stung at his eyes, unable to control himself.

At least Avery was laughing with him. He heard her bark of laughter somewhere to his side. Even in that respect, she was Ferelden. In a weird way, he could respect that as he felt laughter scrape against his insides. It had been a while, so maybe some spring cleaning had been desperately needed. Or, maybe the moon was driving him absolutely insane. Lunatics, all that.

Are you going to be alright? Peak moonlight is within the hour and the plants lose some effect after that.

“Sorry, Justice, I'm holding him up!” Avery answered as if she could hear what was going on in his head. She swiped a hand across her eyes and flicked the remains away. When she saw his face, she added, “You get that look when they're not happy with something. I figured you were getting read the riot act.”

I do not read the riot act.

Anders found it hard to contain a snicker as he dabbed at his own eyes. “Something like that, yes. I do appreciate the help, though. I know you usually work at night.”

At the Rose. Or at least she had before the Deep Roads. Anders had often heard about it when a worker found his way to the clinic. Avery had made somewhat of a name for herself as the Blooming Rose's favorite bouncer. If you asked anywhere else in town, people probably would've spit as they said that. That was of course probably because she had kicked them out, but that was a story for another night where he wasn't trying to collect herbs.

His companion kept picking, a small pile forming off to the side. “I was off tonight anyway. Besides, no way I was letting you out alone in fucking Kirkwall at night.”

Technically, they weren't in Kirkwall. Also technically, they were on the Wounded Coast so it was honestly just as bad. She had him there.

“I'm a bit surprised you still work there.” He paused, wiping his brow after pulling at a particularly stubborn root. “What with the expedition paying off and all.”

Avery responded by nudging him to the side to pull it out for him with way too much ease. They were close enough that he could smell her sweat and the soap they used to clean clothes. Often he smelled it on Moses' skin as they lay in bed together, but this was a new experience. Honestly, it wasn't an unpleasant one.

Focus. Besides, you have Moses.

He did. And Moses was currently with Fenris. The two had grown close over the months together, to the point they could share a bed now. It had been a somewhat awkward discussion among the four of them, but things were working out so far. The only downside was that the mage had been too busy to help him – thus borrowing his frequent shoulder accessory had been somewhat required.

But at least she talked a little more. That was nice. Moses was kind of the strong and silent type, though that was plenty attractive too in its own right.

“I like the people there, and I can get paid for tossing creeps on their ass. Seems like a dream job for me.” She wiped the sweat from her brow, trailing dirt in her wake. “Besides, it pisses Leandra off when her annoying noble friends talk about me. Might as well give them something to discuss over tea, am I right?”

And then she grinned, exposing her reaver-sharpened incisors that glinted in the moonlight. Anders felt his mouth go dry as his heart skipped a beat. Face heating up, he turned away on the guise of looking for more plants to pick.

Damn his brain. And his loins for that matter.

“Well, as long as you get to annoy your mother and it keeps the workers from being harassed.”

Your voice almost cracked. I take that to mean you do find her attractive then?

Leave it to Justice to announce the dragon in the room.

Anders scowled at the ground as he continued to pick. Over all the turmoil, Avery chatted with her dog as she worked. Clearly, she had missed his mild turmoil. That or she was enjoying it. With the half elf, it was hard to tell.

Did he though? When she turned, he stole a quick glance. There was dirt on the knees of her pants, and it looked as though she had forgotten to brush her hair again. The smudge of dirt on her nose was a secondary kaddis as she chatted with Chewy, laughing at the mabari's antics. Every so often, he caught those incisors and glowing eyes as she worked.

…

Shit.

“Hey, Anders. I think we should move spots. It's starting to get a little sparse around here.”

There were those glowing eyes, focused on him as she straightened up to her meager height. Avery had more dirt on her face now, but it didn't seem to bother her as she deposited her work into his waiting basket. Then she wiped her hands off on her pants as she whistled for her dog.

The mage managed to nod dully as realization crashed over him in waves. “Good idea. I believe there's a spot not too far ahead.”

“I'll keep my eyes out for the shiny leaves. Just stay close and try not to break an ankle.” She paused. “I mean, you could probably heal yourself but that seems like a real pain in the ass out here with infection and all. I dunno, I'm not a mage or anything that's more your thing.”

Avery shrugged, oblivious as she started to walk off. It left Anders to watch her as she slowly disappeared into the darkness, her footsteps and the bark of her faithful mabari the only indication she was there at all.

Shit.

I would advise following.

Anders scowled as he came back to himself. “I am.”

She is almost out of sight.

Leave it to Justice to know how to bring him back to the task at hand. Anders swore under his breath as he sought to catch up to the half elf. At least he had the moon to guide him as they traversed the rocky edges of the wounded coast, searching for herbs.

He had found plenty, all right. What he wasn't expecting to find was a damn crush on his friend. How the hell was he going to get out of this one?

Shit.

#ramblinganthropologist's writing #writober 2020 #Avery Hawke #eventual Handers #to go with eventual Fenhawke #and no they do not date Anders and Fenris at the same time #that's just asking for trouble

[metalslimes]

Zevwarden week day 2: Wardens Gift

i know its the last day of the event and im just now posting day 2 but whatever

ao3 link

It had been three days since Arl Eamon had begun his recovery, thanks to The Urn of Sacred Ashes, and Arren was itching to get back on the road.  After the events outside of Haven the rest of his group was concerned for his well being.  One doesn’t just kill their tainted near-bonded without any repercussions.  But Arren’s wasn’t one to voice his emotions like that, he didn’t want to worry anyone, which, of course, just made them even more so.  The rest of the group wanted to relax a couple of days in Redcliffe.  Arl Eamon had graciously offered them each a room in his castle and they were all eager to sleep in real beds.  Except Arren, who just wanted to get back on the road.  He never liked cities, and he had a hard time sitting still, especially when he was trying to avoid thinking about something.

He had spent the first day catching the Arl up on recent events and making plans for the foreseeable future, but after that he was left to wander the town and surrounding area while the rest of his team took a well deserved break.  Arren did whatever he needed to to stay busy in the day; helping around the village, training, hunting, entertaining the children, anything.  At night he was quieter than normal as his friends dined in the castle, frequently sneaking out to walk around the town.  Tonight however, he spoke his mind.

“It is time we continue our task, we have much to do.  Tomorrow morning we should leave.”

“Agreed.”  Sten nodded, arms crossed.  “We have spent too much time here.”

Alistair dramatically sniffled.  “Goodbye soft bed, goodbye actual meals…”  But he knew his fellow Warden was right, so he would only mildly object.  Surprisingly, it was Zevran who pushed his preference against Arren’s word.

“Actually, dear Warden, could we perchance stay another day or two?”  Though he tried to play it off casually by reclining in his seat, Arren could tell he was nervous about making such a request.  Did he worry he was being out of line?  He had been travelling with the rest of the group for near two months, he had earned his trust and should speak his mind.  Of course, Arren couldn’t just give in because he had a soft spot for his fellow elf.  Instead he gave Zevran a curious look.

“What for?”

“I seem to have gotten myself into quite the situation, and I would hate to leave loose ends,” he replied vaguely, though he didn’t shy away from Arren’s stare.

“A situation.”

“A situation.”

“Is this a situation you’d like to share with the rest of the class?  Perhaps we could help.”

“No no, I’d much rather do this on my own.  It should not take much longer.”

“Oh?  Does this happen to involve the pretty blonde from the tavern?”  Leliana smiled teasingly.  “You have been spending an awful lot of time with her.”  That got Arren’s attention, though he was quick to hide any surprise or hurt.  He knew what his relationship with Zevran was; it was recent and it wasn’t serious.  Zevran had been very clear from the beginning that if they were to have a relationship, Arren must understand that it would not stop him from flirting with others, and occasionally, should he desire, sleep with them.  The same would go for Arren.  Arren had agreed, so why it made his chest feel heavy to hear Zevran wants to stay in town because of someone he met was beyond him.  Of course, he could be getting ahead of himself, no one said they were sleeping together.

“Perhaps it does, my darling bard.”  Zevran threw the grin right back at her, leaning on his elbow.  “And perhaps you would like to join me tomorrow- permitting we get to stay that is.”

She scoffed, taking another sip of her drink.  “I think not.”

“What say you Warden?  Will you grant my request?”

Arren was quiet, debating it as he finished his food.  Finally he nodded.  “Two days at most.  We leave at dawn on the third.  Unless you finish early, tell us so we can go.”

“But of course.”  Zevran’s grin widened as he excused himself.  He lightly touched Arren’s arm as he passed, humming contently.  Once he was out of the room Alistair turned to his fellow Warden.

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Doesn’t what bother me?”

“That!  Aren’t you and Zev...canoodling?  And he just asked to stay here longer so he could keep doing that with some girl at the tavern!”

“Did he now?  From what I gathered he is simply taking care of some personal business.  There may or may not be a pretty girl involved.”

“Oh there definitely is.  Doesn’t it bother you that he flirts with everyone?”

“Not at all.”  Which was...mostly true.  The flirting he didn’t mind, yet… “Zevran has been nothing if not honest with me.  I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to ‘canoodle’ with him.  If he also wishes to canoodle with others I will not stop him, nor would he if I did.”

“But you don’t.”  Leliana joined the conversation, watching Arren from behind her glass.

“No, that is not who I am.  But I will not stop Zevran from being who he is, nor would I want to.”  He stood, hands on the table.  “I appreciate everyone's...concerns...with my relationship, but it is not needed.  I trust Zevran and I trust that we will both act like adults should any conflict between us arise.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find something to do for the next two days.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

As it turns out, he spent the next two days frequently on the roads around Redcliffe.  Morrigan, Sten, himself, and his Mabari Falon’din often hunted and trained together, not caring for the city life.  Or in Falon’din’s case, just following his master.  Arren would wake in the morning to Zevran getting out of bed.  Once or twice they ran into each other either in town or at the castle.  They’d all have dinner together, then Zevran would leave again, not coming back until well into the night.  When prompted about his day the Antivan would shrug.

“I will be having more drinks with the lovely lady at the tavern our dear bard mentioned.”

“I have almost finished my business here, just one more day my Warden.”

“Worried are we?  Fear not mi amor, no one in this town would touch any of their heroes.”

Arren decided not to push his luck.  He trusted Zevran, and he was allowed to do whatever he wanted with his day.  Yet he was clearly hiding something, and that hurt for some reason the Dalish was not ready to sift through.  He had far too much else to worry about.  

Alistair was a surprisingly good comfort to Arren in Zevran’s stead.  Of course he thought of Alistair as a brother and turned to him for advice frequently, but something this personal was better handled by someone better with words.  Perhaps it was how Arren had helped his fellow Warden after Duncan’s death, but Alistair was quite the support as Arren grieved his dead clansmate.  He would push for Arren to talk about it, but knew signs of when to back off well enough.  With Zevran gone most of the time, Arren turned to Alistair for the nitty gritty Warden and taint related truths and comforts, to Leliana for something more idealistic, and Wynne when he just needed to be around someone.

For now though, all he needed was a bit of space and silence.  Arren laid on the roof of the castle, arms behind his head as he stared at the stars.  He recited Elven constellations and their stories to himself, keeping them fresh in his mind.  His ear flicked as he heard quiet footsteps, though he didn’t look up at his sudden companion.  Instead, he pointed up at the sky.

“Do you see the one that looks like a halla?  See her front legs in the air, and her head held high?  That is Equinor, Ghilan’nain’s constellation; the mother of halla.”  His companion hummed, laying next to Arren to join him in his stargazing.

“The stallion, yes?”  Zevran spoke fairly quietly, it felt wrong to speak at a normal volume.  “I always thought horses were to Tevinter’s, what dogs are to you Fereldon’s.”

“Constellations have many stories.  Alistair tells me that the Gray Wardens say it is a griffon sitting, not a horse or halla.”

“Speaking of many stories, I assume you did not share any at dinner, since Wynne says you did not attend?”

“Apparently neither did you.”

“No, I was finally able to wrap up my business here.”

“Good.  We can leave tomorrow then.”  Again Zevran hummed, and the two fell into a peaceful quiet, enjoying eachothers company.  Yet when Zevran reached for Arren’s hand, the other elf flinched slightly.  Zevran faced his leader, an eyebrow raised.  When Arren remained silent, refusing to look at him Zevran sighed.

“I had hoped our little groups mother had been wrong in her scoldings tonight, though perhaps she was not.  She tells me I have been neglecting you.  That while I am free to make my own choices, I should consider how they affect others.  You recently lost your Bonded, then in your time of need I spend my days in a tavern with another.  I see how that could be taken, and I want to assure you that nothing happened between her and I.”

Taking a deep breath, Arren’s eyes remained on the stars.  “It would be fine if something had.  I know the terms of our arrangement.  I have been coping fine on my own.”

“Ah, but you should not have to, mi amor.  I would hate to assume, but I also like to fancy that I have a special impact on those around me.  I fancy thinking I have a special impact on you.  I know you do not like to voice such things, but if you need me, for any reason, I implore of you to act on those needs.”

Arren turned his head, expecting to find a smirk at what could very easily be considered an innuendo.  The sincerity and slight concern he found in Zevran’s soft smile instead surprised him.  He stared for a moment before returning the smile; smaller, and with more pain, but at least he was finally expressing himself more.  He took Zevran’s hand, looking back up at the sky with him.  After a moment Zevran sat up, prompting Arren to do the same.

“Ah!  I nearly forgot!  The reason I have been so absent, my business here with the woman at the tavern; it is a gift for you, mi amor.”

“A gift?  You didn’t have to do that Zevran.”

“After all you have given me and the others in our little group of misfits?  No, I did not.  But I wanted to.”  The Antivan reached into a small bag on his hip and handed a velvet pouch over.  Arren looked between the pouch and Zevran a few times before slowly untying it and pulling out the contents.  He gasped, staring at the wood carving in his hand; stylized tree with carvings resembling a hare, a hawk, and an owl etched into the bark.  Almost tentatively he ran his fingers across the small statue.

“Zevran...where did you-”  He stopped as Zevran put a hand over his, the other tilting Arren’s chin up to make him look at him.

“Ir su arvel tu elvaral u na emma abelas…”  He spoke slow and clunky, his accent making him put emphasis in the wrong spot, but even spoken in such a way Arren recognized the lines from the Elven song.  Long journeys are made longer when alone within.  “I know you have been through much, you are away from your clan and surrounded by shemlem.  You are made to be the strong and silent leader and make life changing decisions.  But you are not alone mi amor- ma vhenan.”

In the next moment Zevran was knocked back on the roof, practically tackled by Arren.  He grunted in surprise when he felt the others lips on his own.  Before he could react more than that the other pulled away, just enough to rest his forehead on Zevran’s.  Arren was not one to show emotions often.  In fact, the only other time he had seen the Dalish so worked up was when he saw Tamlen.  Twice.  But here he was, eyes closed, smiling softly, brows upturned, and whispering things Zevran couldn’t understand in Elven.  Slowly Zevran lifted a hand, brushing Arren’s hair out of his face and caressing his cheek.

“Ma serannas, ma vhenan…for everything…”  Softer this time, they kissed again.  When Arren leaned back this time, he got off of Zevran, examining the statue once more.  “Where did you get this?”

“Well!  The first night here when I went for a drink, I saw a Dalish woman on her own.  I knew you were in a difficult place, so I asked her for help in ways to cheer you up.  I told her how you like to make wood carvings, and she suggested making you a place of worship to bring with us on our journeys.  I wanted to serenade you, but settled for learning a sentence or two in Elven instead.”  He sat up, shrugging.  Arren leaned against his partner.

“It’s perfect Zevran...thank you.”  They sat together quietly for several minutes, enjoying eachothers company, until Arren spoke again.  “You know...I would have liked to meet this Dalish woman.”

“Perhaps I did not wish to share you, hm?”  He laid back on the roof once more, pulling Arren down with him.  “But let us not talk of others.  Why don’t you tell me more about this Ghilan’nain, and your Andruil.”

Arren spent his last night in Redcliffe wrapped in his lovers arms, telling grand tales of the Elven Gods, not despising the town quite as much anymore.

#zevwarden week #zevran arainai #zevwarden week 2019 #zevwarden #zevran #zevran x warden #zevran x mahariel #mahariel

[ofloyalheart-a]

at some point in time, skyhold must have been a grand fortress. even now, with pieces lost to time and the stone chipped and cracked in a million places, the structure had an imposing air to it. the towers reached high into the sky and the silhouette of it against the snowy mountains was intimidating and awe-inspiring to behold. mia had noticed it when she’d first approached, a chill rushing down her spine despite the flurry of anger that clouded her mind. this was not meant for her. she was not meant to be here. the world her brother and sister had found themselves in was a world of knights and nobles and politics and treaties and mia-

mia struggled to keep up. she struggled to maintain the air a proper lady who had REASON to be there. she wasn’t in the business of embarrassing her family, despite how frustrated she so frequently was with them, so she kept to herself. or she focused on the recruits flooding through the gates who barely knew how to hold a sword or the people in the tavern who knew what it meant to work for their wages. people who were more like the friends she might encounter back home. people who understood. and when she wasn’t with them or off alone, she had the hounds to focus on. 

maxwell and duke, of course, but the inquisitor had agreed to set aside space in the stables to set up some kennels. she’d sent out letters to the breeders she had connections with to see if there were any hounds available to be sent to the inquisition. war hounds, in this case, though mia usually preferred training hunters and trackers, but it would benefit the inquisition in the long run and especially so if she could get her hands on a litter of mabari pups. she could imprint them onto the inqusitior, or officers in cullen’s army. maybe she’d even give her brother one, if he ever apologized. 

IF. but it was unlikely. she could just as easily keep the pup for herself. one could never have too many mabari. 

she’d been cleaning out the area that had been set aside for her, kneeling on the ground as she attempted to scrub the scent of horse out of the kennels, when she realized duke was missing. max was sitting vigil beside her, steadfast as always, but that PUP. she draws to her feet, back of her hand dragging across her forehead to dry the sweat there and calls for her dog, but there isn’t a response. blue eyes sweep the stables looking for brown fur wrapped around MUSCLE, but duke doesn’t seem to be present. 

her feet carry her outside, squinting against the brightness of the sun, and that’s when she finds him - a hulking mass of brown streaking across the yard straight for some unassuming stranger who just HAPPENED to look like fun. he’s about to rear up and knock his newest target to the ground, eager to shower the man’s face in attention and wet, drooly doggy kisses when a whistle pierces the air. mia calls his name and this time it’s sharp and crisp as whip striking the air. heavy paws hit the ground and duke looks like he KNOWS he’s done something wrong. 

maybe he does. mabari were wicked smart after all. 

it takes everything she has to walk over instead of running, cheeks flushed with embarrassment over the fact that she couldn’t contain her own dog. she reaches duke, and the man he’d attempted to “attack”, and dips her head in apology. ❝ i’m REALLY sorry. he knows better he just...doesn’t seem to care if i’m not ‘round. he didn’t hurt you or anything, did he? ❞ it takes a moment for her to add, cheeks burning a brighter red, ❝ not that i think he would! he’s a good dog! seems to forget his strength when we aren’t fightin’ or huntin’ though and i- ❞ 

she clears her throat, one hand reaching up to scratch the back of her neck and the other reaching down to scratch max’s head. ❝ i’m mia...mia... ❞ a pause, as though she’s forgotten her own name, ❝ EMILIA rutherford. the new kennel master. or...i will be, once we get dogs and kennels. ehm.... ❞ blue eyes drift down to the dogs, ❝ the big one there that just tried to lick your face off’s duke. and the good one here’s maxwell. ❞

@exnobis

#( IC ; MIA )

[missrandomdreamer]

Dragon Age Inquisition Ladies  -so far-

*sorry for crappy picture quality btw ><, also some parts are still in progress for some reason i have more on Aisling’s past and more on Coronach’s future than vice versa lol still work in progress. Also its a pretty long post *

Coronach

“I would rather be hated for what I am, than loved for what I’m not.”-Kurt Cobain

Name: Coronach( Scottish term for a mourning song at a funeral) Adaar

Class: Mage: lighting and fire specialty

Race: Qunari

Age: 30

Height: 7′5

Hair: Greysih black, held up in a very tight bun

Skin: ashen grey

Eyes: bright violet

Hobbies: singing, reading especially poetry, hearing Blackwall and Solas’ stories and horse back riding among the different landscapes she has visited from being in the Inquisition

Lover: Blackwall

Bffs: Solas and Sera

Enemies? People she doesn’t get along with:  Vivienne, people who believe they are right all the time and disrespect others when they are already hurting

Personality: Coronach for the most part is quiet and caring, as well as extremely observant to those around her. However, do not mistake her quietness for meekness. One nasty word towards any of her allies she will fight back with every word and physical capability as possible. In addition, if certain buttons are pressed she will snap back like a dragon. Despite all of that,  she is  very motherly to Sera and Cole, but the latter especially. She tries to the best she can but has an anxiety of wandering if she is doing the right thing despite that she will commit to said choice with the mask of confidence although she later doubts her choices. 

Coronach is a secret hopeless romantic and when she falls in love she fall hard to the point she might become blind because of it.  She also has the capacity to feel things to the extreme. She loves tremendously which can be a problem sometimes and she can become extremely depressed. She  tries to hold it all together but she can’t and does need someone to confine in at times. She is a strong qunari but she does need help and isn’t afraid to admit it when things get to rough. 

Views on her on Blackwall and her close friends: Coronach was immediately swoon by Blackwall. 

Bonus: Despite knowing what happens in Trespasser I would like to think Coronach and Blackwall would get married and have a mabari as Blackwall talked about. They would also have twins to which Solas and Sera would be the god parents of lol Despite both of the godparents not being too keen they would spoil the heck out of the twins and let them get away with so much shit. The twins would probably be named after something in nature for both her and Blackwall have a fondness of it. 

Though in regards to Trespasser, Coronach would never emotionally heal after what goes on with Solas. That would emotionally damage her,  she would be extremely depressed and never truly recover. She really looked up to Solas  for he was her first real friend in the Inquisition.  And if  Blackwall were to die she would probably die soon after: for she loved him far too much to keep on living without him.

Aisling

“These footsteps breathe fire, jump, follow, my desire. My breathing goes quiet. Wake up you woke the lion. I’m taking over the front lines, staring out  into my enemies eyes. When tomorrow is over, I can only be dead or alive. I’m a Warrior. ” -Warrior lyrics by J.O.B. Ft. Anjulie

Name: Aisling ( meaning dream or vision in Irish, also a poetic term) Trevelyan

Class:  Mage of fire and ice

Race: human

Age:  25

Height: 5′5

Hair: reddish brown shaved on one side short shoulder length

Skin: pale as heck with lots of freckles. Also wears blue tattoos on her face

Eyes: sea foam green

Hobbies:  practicing her magic alone, usually wandering by herself in thought, fighting (the one thing she doesn’t have to think about to much: it keeps her distracted from her own thoughts)

Love Interest: Cullen

Close friends: ???  

Personality : Aisling  is constantly fighting to figure out who she is, what her purpose is and what to do with her life. She feels she doesn’t belong anywhere and just roams, especially after the chaos that occurred. She also is known for frequent mood swings: one time being happy and friendly with the next being on edge and angry. Thus fire and ice suits her elemental magic perfectly,one can never tell when she will snap or smile at you.  She has a temper and can also not mean what she says half the time, followed by immediately beating herself up over it. Aisling, with the case of Cullen on the adrenaline of emotion will flirt and say something but immediately regret it and be embarrassed afterward. 

The female mage also has problems making friends. She tends to hide a lot of how she is truly feeling and doesn’t like to let anyone in. Aisling has a lot of defenses despite this she is lonely and wants to talk to people. When she does find a connection between her and another she will attempt to becomes friends but its hard for her. Communication is not her strong suit and she is very afraid of creating bonds with people and opening up to them despite she would never admit it. Many see her as childish and unstable  very few people know how to approach her. Despite all of this she is a demon on the battle field. She fights with every inch of her body and soul,  believing every day she could die and welcoming it with open arms. 

Story that is not so cannon to game: Aisling came from a abusive family life as well as the circle of mages wasn’t any better. She felt she never belonged anywhere so when things got chaotic she booked it out of there as soon as possible. However, getting swallowed in by the Inquisition was not part of her plan. She hates being in charge and cannot stand the titles or people calling her by her family name.  The only perk to being in the Inquisition is getting revenge on her family and blackmailing them after what they put her through. 

Views on Cullen and others:

Cullen: 

Bonus: As I have ranted before, how I wanted to romance Cullen in the first game but wasn’t able to I came up with a theme. My original warden in the first dragon age game was named Sonya (human mage,whose name also means dream) reddish hair  and blue tattoos. She had a crush on Cullen but of course nothing came of it because of their places in society and she would soon pass away at the fight of the blight. However, Cullen meets Aisling who is similar but also drastically different than Sonya. When Cullen sees Aisling he can’t help but remember Sonya and feels a bit drawn to her despite how unpredictable Aisling is.

#dragon age inqusition #ocs #inquisitors #agf #aisling #coronach #update more later

[saltlordofold]

Questions for your boys 🤩 Aedan: 1, 7, 23, 25, 32, 48; zev: 10, 26, 38, 45, 46; Alistair: 15, 20, 24, 29, 50

I’m crying  thank you for asking about the boys! I’ll answer about the modern!au since that was what we were talking about.

Aedan

1.How do they respond to having a song stuck in their head? Does that happen to them often?

When a song gets stuck in his head Aedan will hum, sing under-breath, and drum to the beat of it on every available surface, sometimes without even noticing. He loves music so it isn’t at all uncommon XD

2. How do they cope with losing an argument?

Depends on the argument! But Aedan is a very intellectually curious person so if it’s some sort of philosophical debate, he’ll be glad to have learned from another point of view than his. He’s a pretty good sport about this sort of thing, but he will take it VERY seriously. There’s a good chance he’ll come back to the person days later like “WELL ACTUALLY” because he kept thinking about the argument even after it was done and came up with new points to make lol

23. When engaged in an irritating conversation, how to they conduct themselves?

If he’s really ticked, Aedan gets cold. He’s very good (sometimes too good) at shutting out his emotions so he will keep a straight face, listen to what the other person is saying until they are done,and then retaliate with a sharp, understated retort, delivered with glacial aloofness. If the situation is less serious he might just snort and clearly signify how dumb he thinks the person is being lol. Aedan takes no shit.

25. How do they feel in large crowds?

He’s fine with them but won’t seek them out unless it’s at a concert or something. He has a bit of that hyper-vigilance going on from his job and generally prefers to be in control of his environment.

32. How would they respond to being handed an infant?

Oh boy okay THIS ONE GIVES ME FEELS. Aedan is very good with kids and will basically revert to Uncle Mode whenever he’s interacting with a child. He’s that cooky uncle that will talk to children like they’re grown-ups, do with them stuff the parents wouldn’t – like going to concerts or take them bungee-jumping or something - and to whom kids will come ask stuff they’re too embarrassed to ask their parents. He knows how to handle babies and took care of Oren a lot when he was a teen. 10/10 would hand Aedan a baby without hesitation.

48. How festive are they on holidays?

Pretty festive. Aedan is a very devout man so everything related to the Chant, he’ll happily celebrate. As for everything else, he likes the traditions well enough and will good-heartedly partake. He might play it off like he’s too cool for that ugly sweater but he will wear it XD

Zevran

10.Do they enjoy sitting on counter tops?

He doooooooooo XD Zev’ will perch up anywhere lol. He does it elegantly, legs swinging off the edge of the counter while keeping up a conversation with someone, absent-mindedly looking through things around him, sneaking a taste of the food the person is preparing…

26. Would they ever spend an afternoon in a library? What section would they spend the most time in?

He would but not by his own choice lol I see him more taking books home and studying them there at his leisure. I think the whole being quiet and motionless for too long would end up wearing him out and he’ll end up distracted, going through the different sections,dragging his finger along book spines and chuckling to himself at the weirdest titles. He can and does get very absorbed in studying,especially when it comes to the disciplines he has to teach and the methods of pedagogy, but I see him doing that more comfortably in a private space where he can take breaks, snack, and read in whatever contorted position he might fancy

38. Do they prefer salty or sweet things?

Spicy lol. But really, I’d say fifty-fifty. He has favourite dishes in both categories.

45. Who is their greatest confidant? Who confides in them?

Aedan is a big one, of course. Zevran tells him things about himself little by little, and loves how easily Aedan accommodates his natural pace, never prying him for more information than he’d like to give. Aedan does the same thing back and it’s a quiet, unhurried thing and they both love it. He instantly trusts Alistair, too, with informations about his past he would never tell anyone else so fast ajshdakjsd.

He also has Monique, his co-worker, to whom he tells everything about his current love-life and with whom he laughs a lot.

46. What is something they’ve always wanted to do, but know they shouldn’t?

Go back to Antiva City. Yeah it’s a big city, and he’s not being actively pursued by the Crows (to his knowledge) but so soon after his departure, he feels like his face is too well-known to show himself there, that it might be taken as provocation, and put himself and the boys in danger. He misses it so much tho :(

Alistair

15. How would they respond to performing on stage?

If it’s in a professional setting, he does just fine. He’s already the most frequently appointed speaker for all important briefings,reunions, ceremonies at Base… In his private life, though, oh boy.Alistair is shy, self-conscious, and hates being in the spotlight.He’s afraid of what people might think of him and even if he might power through such a situation using humour and self-deprecation, as well as the support of his loved ones in the audience, it’s always going to cause him anxiety. At work his sense of duty just overrides all of that lol. He knows what he’s doing, knows that he knows it, and has no problem being in charge any more.

20.What was their favorite toy as a child?

Dolls, I’d say. In any shape and form: heck, he’d make his own,out of a bottle cork or a piece of wire. He’d use them to play out scenes in his head, at times epic battles and others just domestic interactions, saying all the lines and making all the sound effects. He had a lot going on in his mind as a child and didn’t have many other kids to play with, so making up stories in his head and playing all the characters was a natural response to all of that, I think. I imagine he had a favourite or two, something like a small plastic mabari, the kind you find in surprise eggs or something.

I don’t imagine Eamon and Isolde were much on gifting him cute kid stuff he might actually have liked [side-eye]…

24. What words make them cringe?

When people call Aedan “the Hero”, it makes his skin crawl (that’s because Hero in Warden tradition refers to the Wardens that died killing archemons and in this verse Aedan did not, thank you very much XD). Everything like racial slurs too, of course. “Half-breed”especially strikes a chord seeing his own background. I guess he also had words he dislikes like all of us, too, stuff like “turgid”and “gurle” lmao

29. Do they wear underwear?

He does XD In the house it goes: Alistair, boxers; Aedan, briefs;Zevran: everything and anything (and nothing) as long as it looks and feels good.

50. How likely is it that they would be the first to point out a full moon or a beautiful sunset?

Pretty likely

#alistair theirin #zevran arainai #aedan cousland #my oc #salt answers #long post #thank you so much aaaaa i love answering questions and i really needed the study break #dragon age:arising #modern au #dragon age: arising

[poweredbycoffeeandwine]

"By the river" kissing prompt for your favourite pairing! I hope you're well!

Thank you for the prompt, lovely! Sorry it took a thousand years to write! Hope you enjoy.

Step Three: Profit - Mercedes Hawke x Anders - Dragon Age 2 One shot - 946 words

***

She was beginning to see the value in having a real home. Not just a place you might need to leave in a moment’s notice. A home. Her mother planted roses, Mercedes planted herbs. The potions she needed were easier to create with the materials on hand. Having a stock of valuable herbs, resulting in more frequent trips to Anders’ clinic with supplies, had nothing to do with it.

She loved her friends, but she couldn’t help feeling they were around because they needed something from her.  Her relationship with him was refreshing, easy. He understood her in a way others didn’t, and not just because he was also a mage. He understood sacrifice and pain, he knew the worries she never dared voice aloud. She hated that she wanted more from him; that she couldn’t keep herself from flirting though he tried to dissuade her from pursuing him. She needed to get a grip and accept what he was willing to give.

The ground gave way to her trowel, frustration making her efforts sloppy. She heard the door slam, but Gamgee didn’t move. Her mabari allowed very few to trespass on the house unwelcome, so she waited to be found.

“Kitten, you really need to stop hiding out here alone, and figure out a way to play “hide the staff” with our resident healer.”

“It’s wonderful to see you this morning, Bela.” Hawke replied, choosing to ignore her suggestion. “What could’ve possibly gotten you out of bed so early?”

The pirate swept through wildflowers, touching petals lightly, somehow managing to still appear dangerous. “Well, I was hoping to catch you by surprise, still wrapped in a passionate embrace with a tortured and lovesick mage,” sighing dramatically, prodding at a poppy in a suggestive manner, “but I suppose I should have known better. You two just need to have a romp and get past all the tension. I could…”

“Really, Isabela,” Hawke interrupted, blushing furiously, “I know you didn’t come over just to give me pointers on my love life.”

“You and your silly love, and no. I came to tell you I have new intel about the relic. I need your help.”

“Let’s go.” Mercedes stood and brushed debris from her robes.

“What, that’s it? No questions about where we are going or where I got my information?”

“I will happily trudge through anything anywhere, If it keeps you from making anymore lewd references to my staff.”

“Lead the way, sweet thing,” she winked playfully, “but I hope you know, it wasn’t your staff I was talking about.”  

***

“Why do I ever believe Bela’s hunches?” Hawke muttered, emerging from a cave exit somewhere unfamiliar on the Wounded Coast. They’d been searching for the lost relic, but only found a mess. “And Andraste’s frilly-knickers, why do I always end up covered in spider guts?!!”

Mercedes kicked at the sand, spraying pebbles and fine grit in an arc towards the cave-mouth.

“Really, Hawke,” Fenris all but growled, “I could have done without the dirt bath. Doesn’t mix well with the blood.”

“Sorry.”

He groaned and sat on the ground. “Next time, please forget to invite me if the plan comes from Isabela.”

“That is decidedly not what you said after Wicked Grace not two days back.” Isabela purred, eyes raking Fenris’ form.

“Yes, well this is wildly different.”

“Or it can be exactly the same.” She sauntered off towards the water, pausing briefly to cast a come-hither look at the warrior.

“How is it possible she can be so damn charming covered in filth?” Mercedes shook her head in disbelief. For his part, Fenris only shrugged and followed her to the beach.

“Those two? Really? I never would have guessed.”

Mercedes had been waiting for Anders to find his way to her, it was part of the reason she hadn’t made her way to the small inlet of water nearby. “Apparently.”

“I would have thought…” Anders looked from Hawke to Fenris’ retreating back, “Err… nevermind.”

She moved to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear and shuddered at finding gore, “Ewww, how does it get everywhere?” Hawke moved down to water’s edge and knelt to catch a glimpse of her reflection. “Maker! I’m disgusting.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

She peered up at Anders, surprised that he’d moved so near without her notice. “Right, look at me. I look like the inside of a carcass.”

“You look beautiful.” Anders cradled her face in his hands, used a bit of cloth and water to swipe away at the worst of the blood. He held her gaze as he tended to hair, an expression she couldn’t quite decipher, but prayed she would see more often.

“I do not,” she whispered, eyes downcast tips of her ears turning red. She’d never had trouble with playful banter, but this was something else. Could lead to something else.

“My mistake,” he whispered back pulling her in and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Andraste’s bountiful-tits, it took you long enough!” Isabela yelled from the road. “Now be a good boy, give her bits some attention, and let’s get going. I am in need of a proper bath.”

“For the love of…” Mercedes would hurt Bela the moment she got the opportunity.

Anders mumbled his apologies and broke their contact. He gave Isabela a sharp look, and started off towards the city. Hawke close behind.

“You are the worst,” Fenris chuckled.

“Yes, but I couldn’t let Varric win. Those two have to hold out for another week before I collect.” She ran towards her friend, plotting the delicate balance between pushing Hawke towards the goal, but still allowing her to profit.

#dragon age fic #female hawke #anders #female hawke x anders #dragon age 2 #fhanders #mercedes hawke #mercedes hawke x anders #mercedes x anders #my writing #steph did a thing #steph does prompts #jawsandbones

[thejourneymaninn]

AU Game

Our fandom’s creativity potion (seriously, where would we be without you?), the amazing @dovabunny tagged me for her AU game. 

Reality TV network AU

The whole gang works for the same network. While they each have their own show(s), they frequently do crossover episodes.

Varric: runs the whole thing. Officially, he’s the ‘business side’ of the network, but he keeps poking his nose into the creative aspects. Almost all of the show concepts were his idea (often whispered into a receptive ear over a bit too much ale in the Hanged Man), and a suspicious number of scripts are written by a certain ‘Chester Hair’.

Hawke: co-founder and official face of the company but leaves the business aspects to Varric. Their coaching/self-improvement show ‘Dragon Rage’ (“Feel it roar, let it out, face your fear”) is the network’s flagship, but their heart belongs to “Mabari Mates”, their show about building a better bond between dogs and their owners.

Merrill: hosts a landscaping/gardening show helping people make the best of their gardens (her trademark is having them look like untouched wilderness and a calming oasis at the same time). She always makes sure any resident spirits are left undisturbed (‘no, no, you can’t cut down that tree to make room for a gazebo, its occupant wouldn’t like that’). She also has an antiques’ show called ‘arteFACTS’ where people bring (what they believe to be) ancient artefacts for evaluation and/or restoration. Both shows air once a week, and she always sticks to her schedule, frequently leaving her friends worrying she might overtax herself.

Isabela: has at least five different shows but doesn’t stick to the schedule for any of them. There’s no way of knowing when the next episode’s going to air, might be next week, might be next month, better follow her on twitter for updates (and dirty limericks). Varric keeps threatening to fire her, but everyone knows it’s just empty talk – all her shows are major hits. Her crew is close to mutiny, though. Her most popular shows are ‘Looting that booty’ (sex tips/sex ed, sex toys and porn reviews and recommendations, interviews with experts/sex workers) and Rogue’d (a prank show she co-hosts with Sera. Her favourite victims? Her co-workers.)

Carver: weight loss/fitness coaching show. He’s brash, harsh, and borderline cruel to his clients, demanding they give 100% at all times, but has been rumoured to be an absolute sunshine off-camera. (A rumour Bethany spread and is definitely never going to let die down.) He absolutely hates having to do crossover episodes with Hawke, like ‘tips for jogging with your dog’ or ‘outdoor fun for you and your furry friend’ (‘we are not calling it that!’), but keeps eagerly suggesting more episodes with Merrill ( “Come on, ‘How to turn your Elder Tree into a workout station’ was a huge success, wasn’t it?”)

Bethany: production, mostly stays behind the scenes. As Varric’s right hand, she pretty much runs the creative side of the company but likes to pretend (with frightening success) she’s ‘just an intern’. Constantly torn between keeping her friends in check and fucking with them.

Anders: hosts a call-in show in which he gives medical advice to people who don’t have insurance (most of the advice being ‘come see me at my clinic tomorrow, I’ll treat you for free’) and rants about the system’s injustices between calls. He also has a little passion project on the side, Feline fine – everything you need to know about your cat. His favourite segment is ‘Adopt a pat - finding new homes for abandoned cats’.

Fenris: initially didn’t want to participate at all but eventually agreed to host a book club/literary criticism show where he and his guests talk about new releases. Authors hate him, as he is blunt and merciless in his criticism, but the audience absolutely adores him and his spot-on acid remarks. The most popular episodes are the ones where Anders guest stars – when Fenris tears a book to shreds, Anders will defend it just as mercilessly. Although his main motivation is to spite Fenris, he does frequently offer fresh interpretations or contexts that tend to go overlooked. On screen, Fenris brusquely dismisses them, but he’ll secretly reread the book afterwards to see if this new perspective changes his verdict. Occasionally, it does, but he will never, ever admit it.

Justice: camera operator. Prefers to observe from a distance but will later pester the others with tips on how to improve their client’s life (long after shooting has finished and they have moved on to the next one). Anders and Merrill are usually the only ones who listen.

Sebastian: is very devoted to his spiritual advice call-in show ‘Buckle up for Andraste, spreading the Maker’s light’. It’s not popular with the Chantry, as he refuses to ask for donations (also, Elthina doesn’t want competition for the Chantry’s own ‘The barbed truth with Mother Petrice’). Varric’s not exactly fond of it either, but Sebastian’s parents invested heavily in the network, and the kid means well, bless his boring heart, might as well let him fill the late night slots.

Aveline: responsible for security and casting (all applicants are thoroughly vetted. A little more so than necessary, perhaps.) She also has a show where she gives financial advice and helps people get out of debt (alas, Gamlen was not a success story). She refuses to appear in any of the other’s shows, stating ‘she sees too much of these fools as it is’… but still ends up in the Hanged Man with them every night.

Donnic: production assistant, also takes care of catering and oversees security on set. Basically, he makes sure the others don’t accidentally set themselves on fire (and puts them out when they do.)

Bonus:

Emile de Launcet: After the spectacular failure of ‘Pickup artiste’, Varric gave him another chance. His new show ‘Perfect Mageover’, where participants get a new wardrobe and donuts haircuts, is a huge hit in Orlais.

Bran: Only shows up for his interior design show ‘horror houses’ and avoids interacting with the others as much as possible. His open disdain for his clients’ gaudy tastes is legendary, making the show a guilty pleasure for many viewers. There’s nothing he hates more than having to work with Hawke for clients with messy houses and messy dogs. (”The hair gets everywhere, and Hawke is an insufferable cretin.”) The audience, however, loves them together, which is why Bethany is secretly working on a concept for a show co-hosted by the two of them. That’ll teach Hawke not to go through her stuff.

The Arishok: In his ‘Cooking duel’, contestants cook against each other and the clock with random ingredients picked out by members the audience. The winner doesn’t get to celebrate for long, though - they have to duel him next.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #kirkwall crew #ramblings #hcs #anders #isabela #fenris #merrill #aveline #varric #bethany #hawke #sebastian #donnic #seneschal bran #emile de launcet #the arishok #au game

[aly-the-writer]

OC Interview Meme

Tagged by @hoehoehoelt. Pretty sure everyone I can think of has already been tagged so going to open it up to whoever wants to do this. :) This one is for my Tabris Warden, Van.

Van Tabris

1.      What is your name?

Van, but you can call me whatever you like. ;)

2.      What is your real name?

Evander Tabris, but really, no one calls me Evander. Except my Father, the Queen, Chantry Mothers, and Nate when he’s annoyed – which is frequently but besides the point.

3.      Do you know why you were called that?

I don’t know. Mom liked stories about heroes, I guess. My twin sister was named ‘Serena’. ‘Serena and Evander’ sound rather like the sort of stuffy names that legendary heroes would get saddled with, don’t they?

4.      Are you single or taken?

Happy to be taken. :D

5.      Have any powers or abilities?

Nope. None. Really, I am the most boring Warden you’ll ever meet.

6.      Stop being a Mary Sue.

HEY! Take your casual sexism out of here. There is nothing wrong with ladies who are powerful without having to bend over backwards to make themselves palatable for some snuffling shem asshat who has nothing better to do with his pathetic life than rain on other people’s fun. Nothing wrong with writers who use characters to express aspects of themselves so *rude hand gestures*

7.      What’s your eye color?

Hazel. Or gray. Or hazel. Or gray. Or hazel. Someone can never remember which one it is so it is in constant flux. Isn’t that beautiful?

8.      How about your hair color?

Ooooh, that one’s easy! I’m a red head. Kinda blond-red but still.

9.      Have you any family members?

Mhmm. There’s Dad and Shianni and Soris and Se………..I, uh, sorry. Serena isn’t around anymore. I also have a cousin that the Templars took away to the circle, Alim.

10.   Oh? What about pets?

I didn’t have any until Lute. Lute’s my Mabari. :D

Unfortunately, the traitorous hound found a proper Ferelden to adore instead. My own dog betrayed me for a Howe, can you believe that? Lute took one look at Nathaniel Howe and decided to love him more than me. D:

He also likes Sigrun better than me but I’m pretty sure that’s mostly about bribery.

11.   That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

The Blight, brood mothers, Rendon Howe, the Archdemon, Darkspawn, the Architect, the Blights, the Taint….uh…there’s a theme, but let’s not linger on the unpleasant. Come on, there’s got to be something more interesting you want to ask me about.

12.   Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?

I’m a bard. :D I can play something for you – or I would – but someone stole my instruments. >:| Apparently it’s depressing and creepy when the Warden Commander wanders around the walls in the middle of the night playing sad music on panpipes.

13.   Ever hurt anyone before?

Yeah. Not that I enjoyed it but I grew up in the alienage. I was a Red Jenny for a while before I became a Warden and I was a thief way before I became a Jenny.

14.   Ever…killed anyone before?

Pretty sure that last question answered that, but, yeah, of course.

15.   What kind of animal are you?

Oooh, that’s easy. I’m obviously a magnificent songbird! Hear my sing! La-lah-la-la~~

16.   Name your worst habits.

Pffft, I don’t have anything terrible. But to prevent any of the Vigil’s residents from giving a list thirty pages long I will admit that I, uh, flirt under pressure. Usually at inappropriate times. I flirted with the Mother not fifteen minutes after I had used nearly the exact same line on the Architect.

17.   Do you look up to anyone at all?

Not really. I liked the story of Garahel but I never planned to be a Warden so I never really looked up to him either.

18.   Straight, gay or bisexual?

Those are the only choices? You’re missing a whole range of people there! I mean, I’m bi, but still!

19.   Do you go to school?

I mean, I studied a bit at the Chantry when I was a kid. That’s where I learned to read and write. I had a nice voice and was fascinated with the instruments. Mother Boann thought that having me learn how to play would keep me out of trouble – and it did mostly, I certainly got into less of it than Serena, just not entirely.

I stopped going after the idea that I should go to Orlais and study at the Conservatory was proposed. Someone had to look out for Rena and Soris and Shi and make sure that Denerim didn’t chew them up too badly. It was kind of stupid of me to think me sticking around would be enough to protect them, looking back on all that happened.

20.   Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

I always intended to marry a nice woman and start a family the way my father wanted me to. He wanted grandchildren, and I didn’t see anything wrong with that ideal – just wanted to pick my own wife. But then I became a Warden.

During the Blight I gave up on that dream…and then…I survived. I have a son, but I have never met him. I’m not even sure I can rightfully call him my son in these circumstances….

*shakes himself; laughs softly* I do intend to marry though – Delilah has been getting more and more plain in her hints that we need to set the actual date.

There’s an ongoing debate over whether we should have the state wedding the Queen wants me to as ‘Hero of Ferelden’ – a title, which, by the way, is entirely ridiculous, all I did was stab an overgrown lizard with a temper, that doesn’t make me a hero – or have something small here at the Vigil.

21.   Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

Of course. Just look at me.

22.   What are you most afraid of?

What are you, the Aegis? To answer your question, I fear losing those I care about. It’s not a very unique fear, but I’ve failed my loved ones too many times, and I have lost too many of them.

23.   What do you usually wear?

*grin* Well, everyone loves a man in uniform.

24.   Do you love someone?

Oh, uh. *laughs* Yes. Yes, I do.

25.   What class are you? (Socioeconomic)

I was born in the alienage and now I rule a rather wealthy arling. So I think the best class for me is ‘confused’.

26.   How many friends do you have?

*laughs* Oh, I have lots of friends. It’s good to have Friends to watch your back, you know. Little f and big F.

27.   What are your thoughts on pie?

Tasty. Also I need some now. I wonder if I can beg the cook into making some today?

28.   Favorite drink?

Anything that won’t kill me is fine. I’m really not that picky.

29.   What’s your favorite place?

My bed. It’s warm and fluffy and the most dangerous thing in there is a sleep deprived Nate. And he’s way more bark than bite.

30.   Are you interested in someone?

I should hope so. Nate – Nathaniel Howe – and I are engaged.

31.   What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

Wouldn’t you like to know?

32.   Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

Definitely lakes. Actually more like ponds, small ponds. Ponds are nice. I don’t care what Nate says waves are not fun.

33.   What’s your type?

*laughing* No need to choose just one to enjoy when all of them are wonderful. Oh Maker, I sound like Zev. I’m engaged to Nate though so I guess ‘brooding human with a bitter sense of humor’?

34.   Any fetishes?

Oh, plenty.

35.   Top or bottom? Dominant or submissive?

Both? And depends on my partner?

36.   Camping or indoors?

Indoors. Andraste help me if I ever have to camp again – and I will, but I would really rather not. I love having a castle. It’s wonderful and warm and there’s no threat of a bear coming into camp and knocking it over and eating my leg off.

37.   Are you wanting the interview to end?

What? Not really. I love talking about myself. Well actually I just love talking, the topic very rarely matters. I’m terribly vain, you see, and in love with the sound of my own voice.

38.   Now it’s over!

Does this mean I have to go back to being Arl and actually doing my job? Because I don’t want to – wait, where are you going? Come back!

#tagged #Asks answered #hoehoehoelt #oc: evander tabris #dragon age origins #dragon age: origins

[despairprayer]

hc + animals, writing/reading, parents, fire? (as many of them as you like!)

send me  ‘ hc ‘  + a word and i’ll write a headcanon about it regarding my character. 

oh my goodness bless you here we go

animals 

Ethial is actively terrified of mabari, though extensive training in controlling his emotions keeps him from revealing it to all but the most scrutinizing observer. He was chased by mabari shortly after his first venture into Ferelden, and it has left a lasting impression.To this day he still reveres ravens, owls, and bears, and in his Inquisition verse, he will on rare occasions visit the rookery simply to admire the birds. This usually earns him curious glances from Leliana’s agents (Leliana herself is polite enough to do her own watching more discretely), however, so he cannot make such trips frequently. 

writing/reading 

At times he struggles with the idea that he can simply read for pleasure. He was educated by spirits and Dirthamen himself, shaped to be a scholar, shaped to hunger for wisdom and knowledge - but only that which was desired of him. Ethial never truly learned to read for pleasure, or what he would himself enjoy reading or learning. Once resurrected, he simply seeks out whatever knowledge is available to him: as an elf he cannot simply wander into most libraries, so he must make do with abandoned libraries in Orlesian chateaus, pamphlets and novels cast aside by refugees in Ferelden, and other discarded treasures. Learning to read Orlesian and Fereldan writing was surprisingly simple, which surprised him - and leads him to wonder if perhaps it has something to do with his long time spent sealed away. Perhaps thoughts and knowledge from the Fade filtered in somehow.His handwriting has suffered somewhat from the ages without practice. He does not write as neatly as he once did, though his writing remains legible enough. Ethial often writes in code simply out of habit, but will willingly translate it for anyone who asks.

parents 

Ethial was claimed by Dirthamen as little more than an infant; he has no memory of his parents, only that they must have been loyal, faithful servants of the Keeper of Secrets for their child to be chosen for such an honor. He never truly had any parental figures - Dirthamen certainly does not count, nor would Ethial ever be so bold as to claim his Keeper to be anything even approaching a father to him. He never contemplated trying to contact his parents, nor does he particularly wonder what became of them. While serving as the Highest One, he did act as something of a surrogate father figure to many of the youngest members of their order. He was not a particularly warm or loving “father,” but he provided guidance and counsel when it was needed.

fire 

It is... unspeakably difficult to camp without a fire. And for the first several months after the freshly-resurrected Ethial left the temple, he hadn’t the faintest idea how to make a fire. Believing he knew the rudiments, he approached the task several ways - each one more disappointing than the last. Had he not found himself sharing a fire with a pair of Dalish hunters, he might still be starving and shivering in the wilderness.It was his first - but not his last - indication of just how poorly-suited he was to the life of a vagrant.The Dalish hunters were polite enough not to mock him for not knowing how to start a fire. This may have been due to his tale of his entire clan being killed, however - they may have assumed his failure was due to shock, or perhaps they simply didn’t wish to pry. They invited Ethial to remain with their own clan, but he declined; too much time spent in close company, he feared, would ultimately result in revealing too much.It did, however, leave him with a lingering fondness for the Dalish, despite how bittersweet their existence feels to him otherwise.

#headcanon; #long post; #aniente

[out-of-the-embers]

Prompt time!! I found you -- At the park, resting in the grass with no care in the world (whoever you feel like writing)

I decided to try writing a modern AU. Hopefully it doesn’t suck too much? 😅

Lily Trevelyan x Cullen Rutherford

Words: 1,596

(Modern AU, pre-relationship, awkward Lily is awkward, meet cute)

Cullen’s mabari is a sneaky one.

Despite having moved to Denerim three months ago, Lily felt she was just starting to get accustomed to her new life. Change was something she always had trouble dealing with, and when her parents chose to leave Ostwick to live in Antiva for a few years, she decided it was time to go her own way. Her cousin, Raphael, had been ecstatic at the idea of them living in the same city for once and was more than happy to help her move into her new apartment.

Living in Denerim wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be - the city was busy, but relatively calm for the most part. Raphael had given her a tour of the large town soon after she arrived despite her having visited before. He had insisted it was “part of the experience” as he waved Lily’s protests away and led her through the familiar streets. She recognized the large market that was always bustling with people and other venues she had already been to. The city hadn’t changed much since her last visit from two years ago, but she was absolutely delighted when Raphael showed her the new botanical garden that had been open to the public for a little over a year.

Even though there was an abundance of parks throughout the city, she visited the garden regularly with her beloved mabari hound, Luna. She was always more than happy to leave their small apartment to run around the park and roll in the grass while Lily lounged on a blanket reading a new book from the library she worked at. It was one of the few places where she felt completely at ease, and it helped her calm down whenever she felt restless.

Lily had lost count of how many books she has read since she arrived in Denerim. She was preparing herself for a few hours of browsing through library shelves as she walked through the small neighborhood park close to her apartment. The cold autumn air was crisp as it blew through the trees, and she pulled her jacket a little tighter around her waist. Denerim’s cold weather took some getting used to at first, but Lily didn’t mind - it was much better than the warm climate of the Free Marches.

She was considering bringing Luna to the park later in the afternoon so she could get some fresh air when she suddenly heard barking in the distance. Her lips quirked up in a smile when she spotted a gray mabari puppy, less than a year old, bouncing around a blond man laying in the grass. The puppy was quite large and agile, easily dodging the man’s attempts to grab it as it bounded around him, all the while wiggling its entire body and licking at his face. Her smile grew when she heard his laughter combined with the dog’s playful barking.

The noise they were making grew distant as Lily continued walking down the dirt path. She stopped briefly after a few minutes to check the time on her phone when she received a text from Raphael.

Today, 4:56 PM: Hey 😊 having a few friends coming over for dinner this weekend. See ya then?

Lily sighed and bit her lip. Socializing is something she hadn’t done much of since moving. Oh, who was she kidding, she didn’t socialize much when she lived in Ostwick either. Her tendency for giving bad first impressions didn’t give her much of a desire to interact with anyone. Keeping to herself seemed like the easier - and safer - option. Raphael’s invitations to friendly gatherings have been pretty frequent, and Lily had declined every invitation by giving him some dumb excuses which she was sure he saw right through. She knew she was being rude by doing so, but…

…Maybe she’d accept this time? There were only so many excuses she could use, after all.

Lily made a mental note to reply to Raphael’s text when she got home as she shoved her phone back in her pocket. Nervousness began settling in her stomach at the mere thought of what might await her that weekend. She took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm down when she suddenly heard faint scuffling on the dirt behind her that was quickly growing louder, along with distant shouting. Something bumped into the back of her boots and she whirled around, her alarm quickly turning into confusion when she saw the puppy from earlier sniffing at her boots. She watched in amusement as it barked happily and began to wiggle its entire body in excitement.

“Decided to leave your human alone for a bit, have you?”

The puppy barked and bounded around her before pawing at her thighs and jumping up repeatedly, as if wanting to be carried. Lily smiled and gently patted its soft fur before looking around.

“Now, where is your - oh, there he is.”

Lily spotted the dog’s owner in the distance, sprinting in their direction. The puppy must have been very fast, if it had managed to put so much distance between them. It barked again, almost as if demanding her attention and continued to paw at her legs repeatedly. A soft chuckle left her as she bent to pick up the eager mabari, a grunt escaping her lips at the dog’s weight. It - he - immediately began to stretch in her arms to lick at her face and nip at her beanie, his tail wagging wildly. She spotted the frantic owner still some distance away and carefully began to walk towards him while carrying the squirming puppy, who was now repeatedly trying to lick her nose and mouth.

All Lily saw as she tried to walk was an extreme closeup of a wet nose and tongue as she tried to dodge the mabari’s sloppy kisses. She was soon greeted by loud footsteps and breathless apologies as she tried to shift the excited dog in her arms to look up at the panicked man in front of her. Maker, he was a lot taller than she expected. Bits of grass stuck to his jacket and blond hair, which was ruffled and appeared to be curling at the edges. His cheeks were flushed - from the cold or his brief run, she wasn’t sure - and his breathing was somewhat heavy. She fought back a smile at the man���s disheveled appearance -  it reminded her of all the times she had to chase after Luna during her puppy days.

“Maker, I’m so sorry, I-”

His words cut short when Lily met his gaze, and she watched as the blush on his handsome face appeared to darken considerably. His amber eyes held a mix of relief and surprise, and for some reason, she found herself unable to look away. She could feel her face heating up as seconds passed. The silence that grew made her wish she would get swallowed up by the earth.

After he got his dog back, of course.

A wet nose and comically wide eyes suddenly obstructed Lily’s vision, and the puppy finally succeeded in licking her nose. She glanced down at him, startled, and was surprised when she saw what appeared to be a hint of smugness on the dog’s face. The man immediately reached for his dog with an exasperated groan, and Lily found herself holding her breath at having him so close.

“Rufus, no. I’m very sorry, he’s-” the dog squirmed in his arms, turning his head to look back at Lily and his tongue lolled out to the side in a lopsided grin. “-an unruly one.”

Lily gave him a small smile as she took a step back, preparing to walk away. Rufus whined softly. “It’s alright.”

He began to dig around in his pocket before she had a chance to leave. “Wait, I, uh, have a tissue if you need it. I’ve learned to be prepared ever since this guy has been around.” He held out a neatly folded tissue.

Lily stared at him, surprised.

His cheeks darkened. “I-It’s clean, I swear.”

A small chuckle escaped Lily’s lips in spite of herself. “It’s fine, really. I have a mabari of my own, so I’m very used to it.” She gestured vaguely at her jacket and jeans, which were lightly covered in some specks of white fur, now combined with gray.

“Ah.” He smiled upon seeing the fur on her clothes and looked back up at her, an unsure look on his face before clearing his throat and extending his hand. Rufus was cradled in one arm, his paws in the air as he looked at Lily expectantly, tail wagging slightly. “I’m Cullen.”

Lily hesitated briefly before shaking his hand, confused as to why he chose to introduce himself instead of going his own way. “Lily.”

Cullen’s smile widened a fraction upon hearing her name and the silence stretched for a few seconds once more as they looked at each other. Lily could feel her cheeks grow warm and looked away shyly from his gaze. “Well, I should get going.” she murmured, taking a step back. She wanted to get away before she did something stupid in front of him. Judging from her track record, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

Cullen’s face fell slightly before he shook his head. “Uh - yes, of course. Ah, I’m sorry about Rufus, again.”

Lily was confused at his disappointed expression, but pushed it aside. “No problem.” she smiled politely at him before turning and walking away.

She could have sworn she heard Rufus whine softly behind her.

Thanks for the prompt! :D

#lily trevelyan #Cullen Rutherford #Cullen x inquisitor #Cullen x lily #dragon age #modern au #my writing #idk if 'meet cute' is accurate but I added it anyway #kagetsukai