#rip varric’s hairline

[dandylion-virtual-adventurer]

Umm..yeah. I thought we established that a long time ago?? 😭

[sidhelives]

Chapter 4 - And I Do Mean That As An Insult

"What are you two talking about?" Hawke leaned in quizzically, towering over their twin petite frames.

"Elf stuff," Varric stated, a chuckle in his voice.

Isabela smirked. "Fenris, shouldn't you be joining in the elfy talk?"

Fenris glowered at her.

"He's been listening," Tabris pointed out.

"I have not," he refuted her, crossing his arms.

She shrugged. "My mistake."

Fenris studied her suspiciously. It seemed clear to Merrill that he had been expecting more resistance from the woman and his confusion at its absence all but confirmed that she had been right.

"Fenris, you know you could always ask me about the Dalish, you don't have to wait around for some mysterious stranger to show up and eavesdrop on our conversation, although I can see how that's more in keeping with your silent brooding," Merrill teased, giving him a wide grin to which he ruffled like a bird and harrumphed.

"Does that happen often?" Tabris inquired.

Varric tapped his chin in thought. "Actually, I'd say Broody was the last mysterious stranger who turned up."

Hawke laughed boisterously. "Nothing much mysterious about ripping a man's heart from his chest in the middle of Lowtown." He clapped Fenris on the back.

Tabris' brows stretched up to her hairline and Varric chuckled. "I'll tell you the story later if you stick around," he promised.

[redinkofshame]

I tried to combine traditional Noir with Hard in Hightown to bring us Varric Tethras, Private Eye. These thirteen codex-sized chapters are filled with drugs, sex, violence, and old timey slang. (Also, Varigold!) I’ll be posting one a day on tumblr, and then I’ll post them all at once on  AO3. 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Chapter Three

According to my information, Guillerme de Launcet primarily worked from home. Maker knows why — he had at least half a dozen kids, and while some were full grown and living on their own, I could still see plenty running about the estate, all bare feet and sticky fingers. Grandkids, maybe.

I staked out the property for an hour or so, timing my entry though the victim’s office window so that no kids, adults, or servants would catch me. It wasn’t difficult; the damn thing wasn’t even locked. I climbed in, sighing in relief when I saw that the door was closed.

The room had a stillness I couldn’t name. I knew it had less than a week since the murder, that the police had recently combed the place, yet it felt unused. I could still see the half-cleaned bloodstains on the carpet.

I examined them for a moment, but I didn’t dwell on it. That wasn’t what would get the answers I needed.

I moved to Guillaume’s desk and skimmed over it. Telephone, family pictures, a rolodex that I flipped through, but nothing caught my eye. I began quietly opening drawers. I found office supplies and paperwork in the first couple — no surprises there. There was an accounting ledger, a big binder of sums. The dates were recent, the older stuff probably in the filing cabinets against the wall. I didn’t bother checking those. If Guillaume cheesed anything it would be in his desk.

There might be useful information in the ledger, but unfortunately I didn’t have time to go through it line-by-line. I ripped out the last few pages, opened my briefcase, and shoved them in. I kept looking.

I smiled when I discovered the last drawer was locked. I didn’t even bother looking for a key — I’d done my share of box jobs, but you didn’t need to be a can opener for something this easy. I popped the lock, and inside I found something interesting at last: a small, engraved, velvet-lined oak box, also locked, containing lyrium and all the paraphernalia for snorting it.

If the police had found it they hadn’t bothered bagging it, and I wasn’t going to either. Just knowing he was a user was enough for a lead.

I emptied the drawer smiled even bigger when I felt the telltale hairline seam at the bottom; a hidden compartment. Jackpot.

Moving quick but quiet I slid the cover off. I found a single folded letter inside. I scanned it quickly, and just like you might assume, it was a lead. A big one. Guess the coppers hadn’t figured that Guillaume was being blackmailed.

I started putting everything back after tossing the letter in my briefcase. It was from a woman. A pregnant woman, demanding payment for her silence. Just how far would this woman go to get what she wanted?

As I thought about it the door swung open. I froze, and locked eyes with an equally frozen kid, probably around 10. With what I hoped was a disarming smile I pressed a finger to my lips, closed my briefcase, and climbed out the open window. I didn’t look back to see if he was going to keep his silence.

I sprinted, thinking what a shame it was that the blackmail letter was unsigned. That would be too easy, I supposed. Still, I recognized the stationary it was on.

It was time to head to the Hanged Man.

[patricianandclerk]

Andruil’s Charm

My Ask | My Ko-Fi | My Ao3 | Requests always welcome!

Solavellan. 

The four of them were settled to the side of the larger encampment, where the large tents were occupied by some injured from the broader part of the Dales. They would be sharing, tonight – Solas and Lavellan, and Dorian and Varric. It wasn’t so dreadful, Dorian supposed. Varric did have the most marvellous chest hair, but none of the awful stench that Blackwall or the Iron Bull tended to exude, after a day’s worth of ride and toil and caked bandit blood they refused to wash off.

Varric Tethras, for all his many sins, was a gentleman. And much like Dorian, a gentleman in his own right, he had been watching Lavellan in complete fascination for most of the afternoon.

He had gone out with the hunting troupe today, prioritising catching game for the injured, two of the August Rams. It had been spellbinding, seeing Lavellan, a slight man who seemed at a glance to be only very lightly muscled, hauling one of the great things on his shoulders back to the camp.

Of course, the four of them would not be partaking of their meat. Lavellan had caught two rabbits, too, and he skinned them like it was the easiest thing in the world. In all his years, Dorian had never actually watched someone skin a rabbit. Varric had seen nugs skinned, he said, but never anything furry, and watching Lavellan?

It was an art.

Smooth, easy movements with a sharp knife, his expression concentrated, focused. There wasn’t even any blood, to Dorian’s surprise – he hadn’t realised so much would drain from the thing when Lavellan hung it up, and he made quick work of both carcasses, setting the furs aside before he began the butchery in earnest.

He did it with a wooden tray in his lap, neatly segmenting out the sections of the animal, the shoulders, the hindquarters, the… whatever other parts. Did rabbits have breasts? Surely they must do. In any case, Lavellan wrapped the meat in fragrant leaves, creating wondrous little parcels that he placed into the pot to stew. After sundown, he said, the rabbit would be ready to eat…

It did smell rather delicious.

Now, Varric was making some careful notes in a journal, and Dorian was sat forward, his elbows rested on his knees, his chin on his palms. Lavellan had one of the rabbit pelts spread over his lap, and he was moving back and forth over the skin with the flat of his blade, carefully removing little bits of fat and such forth. He had informed Dorian, a competent necromancer who was not at all squeamish about death or dead things, in a casual tone that made him want to crumble into dust, that this process was called fleshing.

“Shut up,” Lavellan said, apropos of nothing.

“I do not believe,” Solas said, and Dorian and Varric turned to glance at him, the dwarf seeming as surprised as Dorian was, “that I said anything.”

“And yet, the lecture I’m hearing in my head sounds curiously like your voice.”

“A lecture? Over what, exactly?”

“The charm on my bracelet, for one.”

“The fetish, you mean?”

“Don’t call it that.”

“Do forgive me, Inquisitor, I cannot hope to follow what you call your Dalish periapts.”

“And yet your gaze is following so closely.”

“Does gazing amount to a lecture, now?”

“Shut up,” Lavellan growled, and Solas thinned his lips before stalking away.

Dorian looked at Varric, whose eyebrows were raised right toward his hairline. “The elves are fighting,” he mouthed.

“You don’t say,” Dorian retorted, equally silently.

Lavellan and Solas usually got on… Well. As well as anybody got on with Solas, given that the man was pretty much buried in his thoughts about the Fade, the vast majority of the time. Spirits of all kinds seemed to dominate his waking concentration, and it was sometimes difficult to make headway in conversation, unless one managed to tease our a particular thread – the technicalities of a particular piece of magic, perhaps, or a game of chess. One had to be careful, of course, lest one go too far, and Solas begin ranting about whatever injustice came first to mind.

This, though? This was… well, rather unexpected.

“So,” Dorian said. “What, precisely, was that about?”

“The charm on my wrist represents the goddess Andruil,” Lavellan said quietly. “A gift from the Keeper Hawen, a very kind one. Solas does not believe in the Dalish gods, nor especially respect them. He dislikes that I put on a charm with no enchanted properties to hunt with.”

“That seems kinda… petty,” Varric said.

“I agree,” Lavellan muttered.

Ah, well, Dorian supposed. Not every evening could be a vision of domestic bliss.

--

“Take it off,” Solas growled when he had Lavellan pinned beneath him that evening, and Lavellan glared up at him, his lip curling. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t done this on purpose, after all. Solas knew that, he thought, else he wouldn’t be so performatively, furiously indignant as he shoved Lavellan onto his back.

“You have no respect,” Lavellan hissed, trying to keep the relish out of his voice.

“I don’t,” Solas agreed, and went for the tie on the bracelet. Lavellan let out a sharp noise, slamming his knee hard against Solas’ side, but Solas was deceptively strong, and he pinned Lavellan down with a knee shoved against his thigh, undoing the twine and letting the amulet drop to the tent floor. “You’ve never had a possessive lover?”

“Possessive when it comes to other men, perhaps,” Lavellan said. “Not the gods in the sky.”

Solas’ teeth dug into the side of his neck, and Lavellan let out a sharp noise, arching into his mouth and digging his fingernails into Solas’ back, gripping at him as tightly as he dared even as Solas shoved his thigh between Lavellan’s legs, pulling him back by the hair.

“You’re mine,” Solas growled, mouthing over the marks his teeth had left, and Lavellan was so hard he couldn’t stand it, trying to thrust up against Solas’ thigh and getting next to no friction as a reward. “My mark is on you, mine. I’ve staked my claim, and you will take it.”

“Make me,” Lavellan said.

For just a second, Solas’ eyes glinted sharply, and before Lavellan knew it he was pinned on his belly with his wrists shoved up behind his back, Solas dragging so hard at his trousers that Lavellan heard them rip. He moaned as Solas shoved between his legs, and spurred on, Solas let go of his wrists, grabbing him by the hair and pulling him hard by it.

“Bastard,” Lavellan gasped out, and Solas barked out a laugh before he bit at the back of Lavellan’s neck, making him groan. “Harder!”

“Patience,” Solas said, but then he twisted his hips, and Lavellan’s cry was sharp and loud, splitting the night.

--

“Do you know,” Dorian said, staring at the tent ceiling, his arms crossed over his chest as he tried – and failed – most desperately to ignore the noise from the tent next door, “I actually preferred it when they were fighting.”

“You don’t know a single spell to block this shit out?” Varric asked hopelessly, and Dorian sighed, turning onto his side and putting his fingers in his ears.

[morfinwen]

28, 37, 41, 43, 44, and 50 for all OCs :)

RIP anyone on mobile, here’s a “read more” for the rest of you:

28 - What are some of their guilty pleasures?

Reagan - Dumb phone games, some she’ll download just to play once then remove forever.

Chris - Action paperbacks, the kind with paper-thin characters, plots that fall apart if you think about them for more than two seconds, villains as realistic as a Saturday morning cartoon, etc.

Angie - Her abiding love for the Disney movies she watched as a child goes beyond what most adults will admit to. She wore out her old video cassette of Cinderella, and takes very good care of the stuffed Winnie-the-Pooh bear she’s had since she was a baby.

Neal - There’s this one soap opera he’s kept up on since he was nine years old. No one can know.

Elarin - She loves cheesy pop love ballads. No matter how ridiculous or sappy they are, if it's got a catchy tune, she’ll be humming it under her breath for weeks. HK-47 confirms this was a trait she had even back in her “terror of the galaxy” days, which has led to some interesting mental images for both Elarin and her friends.

Meaghan - She has a collection of various animal figurines she’s collected from all over the place, from all different manufacturers and planets. Most of them are brightly colored and made of cheap materials, almost none of them are realistic. About the only thing all of them have in common, besides being goofy imitations of animals, is that she likes the way they feel in her hands.

Leah - Fancy Lads Snack Cakes. So sugary you can feel your teeth rot when you bite into one. So packed full of preservatives they’ve lasted as long as she’s been alive (which also means most of them are at least slightly irradiated). Whenever she finds a box somewhere, though, she’ll pick it up and hide it somewhere, for when she’s having a bad day.

Avery - There have been various incidents across Kirkwall that have occurred suspiciously close to times and places Avery and Varric were left unattended for lengthy periods of time. Avery doesn’t regret a single shenanigan, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to admit her involvement to Aveline.

Ash - If, hypothetically speaking, Ash ever watched a romcom or chick flick -- which, given the general low quality of many of those types of films, he is definitely not likely to ever do -- he would only do it somewhere private, where if some part of the movie might by happenstance make him tear up, he could keep his emotions to himself and not have to deal with the judgment and opinions of others. All purely hypothetical. You have no evidence.

Lanzo - Reality TV. It’s ridiculous and melodramatic and over the top and not realistic in the slightest, but he can get sucked into watching it for hours. What else is he going to do during the daylight hours?

Connie - Chasing sticks. It’s not fetch, it’s more like catch. With himself.

Aidan - Musicals. Even the silly ones with pointless plots and unbelievable characters.

Nate - He used to love Skittles.

Q - Some animated show that he watched a lot of when he was a kid. Absolutely refuses to speak of it to anyone. He has copies of his favorite episodes saved on his laptop in a password-protected folder with a misleading name, just to make sure no one learns about it.

Niner - Yarn. It’s not that werecats have anything against yarn -- many of them are just as entranced by it as Niner -- but batting a ball of colorful yarn around on the floor is not part of Niner’s image.

Amanda - Self-describes her drinking habits as a quest to replace all internal fluids with Coca-Cola.

Ian - Twinkies. He knows they’re terrible for him, but it’s a road trip necessity. He had a minor freak out when Hostess went bankrupt and they stopped being sold for several months.

Lauren - The occasional cigarette, when she is extra stressed or angry and nothing else will calm her down. If she's particularly self-controlled, one pack will last two weeks. She is usually not quite that self-controlled.

Kira - An older teen romance werewolf movie. She knows it’s dumb, but the lead male is just. The cutest. The dreamiest eyes. His smile. His hair ... 

Darcy - Chocolate covered marshmallow cookies. Dipped in peanut butter.

Susanna - Susanna is too young to have guilty pleasures. If she likes something, she likes it, and refuses to be ashamed about it.

37 - Do they like glitter?

Reagan - It doesn’t bother her, but no.

Chris - Giving someone a card with glitter on it is one of Chris’ ways of getting petty revenge on people who haven’t done anything bad enough to merit serious comeuppance. He’ll always add a little extra, in such a way that the recipient won’t notice beyond “wow, there’s a lot of glitter on this card”.

Angie - Not particularly.

Neal - No.

Elarin - Not usually, but sometimes a girl just needs to feel sparkly.

Meaghan - Doesn’t care either way.

Leah - Sure, in small doses.

Avery - I don’t think they have glitter in Ferelden. If they did, she’d love it, but mostly for petty revenge like Chris.

Ash - Ugh. No.

Lanzo - He has a glittery tiara that says “DIVA” that he wears sometimes when he's drunk. When he’s sober, its tendency to get everywhere irritates the heck out of him.

Connie - No.

Aidan - Eh.

Nate - No.

Q - No.

Niner - Won’t ever admit it, but has a certain fascination with anything shiny or sparkly.

Amanda - When she was younger, she did. Nowadays she’s just slightly more likely to buy a glittery card than the average person.

Ian - He would, except he seems to have extraordinarily bad luck with it.

Lauren - With as many siblings as she had, there was always something leaving glitter everywhere when she was growing up, so she’s developed a dislike of it.

Kira - Yes.

Darcy - No.

Susanna - No interest.

41 - Have they ever broken a bone?

Reagan - Once, broke her arm falling out of a tree.

Chris - A few, while playing sports.

Angie - Never.

Neal - If asked, Neal might talk about the one time he got his collarbone broken while playing football in junior high. He will not mention the other times he had a broken bone in his childhood. His parents get angry with him when he talks about those. 

Elarin - Considering all the violent conflicts she’s been involved in, she’s suffered serious injury on multiple occasions, but even without amnesia she couldn’t tell you offhand how many of them involved broken bones.

Meaghan - Same.

Leah - Pre-War, she broke a couple fingers playing sports. Post-War … she lost count a long time ago.

Avery - A few. She also leads a conflict-heavy life, but she keeps to the back and lets her better-armored friends take the charge.

Ash - Slipped and broke his ankle one winter. Most boring winter of his life.

Lanzo - Not since becoming a vampire. Vampires can break bones, but it’s significantly less likely.

Connie - No. Werewolves are also tougher than humans.

Aidan - Phoenixes, on the other hand, have light bones that break more easily. The longest he’s gone without breaking something is eight months. (Fortunately, phoenixes also have methods of healing faster).

Nate - Broke his left arm once, and his left leg on a different occasion. The latter event was the one that put an end to his skateboarding/rollerblading days and kickstarted his interest in video games.

Q - He’s suffered a lot of batterings, thanks to riding a bike professionally -- mostly scrapes and minor cuts, but also more than his fair share of broken bones, he’s sure.

Niner - Probably not? When asked, she claims not to know what bones are, and shows no interest in learning. Q is 88% sure she’s joking, but … it’s Niner.

Amanda - Once, broke her leg very badly during an investigation.

Ian - Once, in college. He got lost on his way to class, and thought he was walking down a different set of stairs on the other side of campus -- ones that didn’t require you to be as mindful of where you put your feet.

Lauren - Answered.

Kira - Broke her collarbone once.

Darcy - No.

Susanna - Two fingers, one toe, her ankle, and one hairline fracture in her arm. Considering how much energy Susanna puts into doing everything, it might be a bit surprising she hasn’t broken more.

43 - Have they ever drunk underage?

Reagan - As a small child, she wanted to try her aunt’s wine. Janet figured allowing her a taste would put her off of it for a while, and it did. Reagan never drank again for years, until some very determined coworkers convinced her to accompany them to a bar after work.

Chris - He was at a few parties in high school where there was drinking going on, but he never had any himself.

Angie - Nope. No interest, no opportunities.

Neal - His dad’s idea of “male bonding” was making his twelve-year-old drink an entire can of beer while watching old videos of him playing high school football. Neal threw up shortly afterward, which did nothing to improve his relationship with his father, but it did mean he never “wasted” his beer making Neal drink it again.

Elarin - Never really had the opportunity, and wouldn’t have taken it if she had.

Meaghan - Ditto.

Leah - Someone spiked the punch at one school party Leah attended her sophomore year of high school. Before she’d had more than half a cup, her not-yet-boyfriend Nate warned her about it, and offered to see her home, as the friends she’d come with were not put off by the spiked punch.

It was a warm spring evening, so they walked home very, very slowly, talking about everything going on in the world and what they hoped to do to change things for the better.

Avery - I’m not sure if Ferelden has a drinking age. If it does, then no, but not for want of trying -- so many adults seemed to love alcohol so much, young Avery just wanted to know why, but the mean bartender never let her try any.

Ash - Nope. His dad took him to his favorite local pub shortly after Ash’s twenty-first birthday, and gave him a lot of advice on the topic.

Lanzo - If the concept of minors even existed when Lanzo was born, it was a very different understanding. He grew up drinking alcoholic beverages with pretty much every meal.

Connie - Disliking the taste of alcohol and/or being more susceptible to it are not so common among werewolves as to be a distinctive trait, but for some reason are more likely to be true of the average werewolf than the average human. For this reason, among others, there wasn’t much peer pressure or opportunity for underage drinking.

As an adult, Connie’s tried a variety of different drinks, all of which taste vile to him.

Aidan - No underage drinking, though he did visit a couple speakeasies during Prohibition.

Nate - A little in college, mostly just a friend offering him a taste of theirs. Once at a party he picked up someone’s mixed drink by accident and drank the entire thing. Apparently, Nate’s a great dancer once he loosens up a little.

Q - Not by British standards.

Niner - Werecats leave their immediate families when they reach physical maturity, usually in their early teens, and will travel for a while with others of the same age. One of the other werecats in Niner’s group discovered an abandoned bottle of whiskey on the side of the road, and gave it a try. His reaction was so strong everyone else in the group had to give it a try as well. None of them liked it.

Amanda - For a short period of her teenage years, Amanda rebelled against the strict rules and high expectations of her mother by engaging in various transgressive acts, such as sneaking into bars with fake ID and attending parties where alcohol was available. She was very careful never to get drunk, as she knew there would be serious consequences if her mother ever found out.

Ian - He accidentally drank some of his dad’s beer once as a kid. Like Reagan, it was enough to put him off of it for years. He tolerates some mixed drinks, but he’s still not super-fond of alcohol.

Lauren - She was raised Catholic, so she had wine with her first Communion in grade school. Apart from that, her parents permitted their children to have a single glass of wine at dinner on certain special occasions, once they were double-digits. Like most of her siblings, Lauren didn’t like the taste of it, but it made her feel very grown-up to ask for some. There was also a lot of competitiveness between the siblings, so once one had a glass, all the rest had to have it too, lest they be “shown up” by the others.

Kira, Darcy, Susanna - Nope.

44 - What is the first thing they do when they wake up?

Reagan - Check her phone.

Chris - He has a whole system that starts with getting up, making the bed, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, making breakfast …

Angie - Opens a window.

Neal - Wakes up gradually to the smell of coffee -- sets his coffee maker to start automatically in the mornings.

Elarin - Goes back to whatever she was doing before someone made her go to bed.

Meaghan - Meditates.

Leah - Helps whomever is making breakfast, or starts it if no one else has.

Avery - Mornings are difficult for Avery, so once she’s awake she just lays in bed for a while, until she feels better or something forces her to get up.

Ash - Makes tea and goes outside to watch the sunrise.

Lanzo - Has a drink.

Connie - Showers, if he has to work. Picks up the nearest book and leafs through it until he's fully awake, if he doesn't.

Aidan - If it’s rainy, and it usually is, he’ll get up, get dressed, and find some breakfast. On the rare occasions it’s sunny, goes outside, climbs onto the roof, and watches the sunrise for as long as he can.

Nate - Doesn’t sleep anymore. Back when he did, he would check his phone first.

Q - It takes him a while to fully wake up, so some mornings the first thing he does once he’s awake is make tea, other mornings he’s halfway on his way to work before he can be considered “awake”.

Niner - Food is the only thing on Niner’s mind when she wakes up.

Amanda - She uses the radio for an alarm, and her preferred daytime radio program starts a half hour before she has to get going, so she’ll lie in bed and just listen, letting herself wake up more gradually.

Ian - Wakes up to his alarm, hits the snooze button one too many times, gets up in a panic and drinks as much coffee as he can before leaving for work.

Lauren - Takes a cold shower.

Kira - Bury her head under her pillow, groan, then very reluctantly get up.

Darcy - Get dressed.

Susanna - Run downstairs for breakfast.

50 - Are they good at remembering significant dates? Anniversaries, birthdays etc?

Reagan - She’s not terrible at remembering. Whether she’ll do anything for it is a different matter.

Chris - Yes, but he’s not above getting it wrong or ignoring it if he feels it’s called for.

Angie - Always. In fact, there have been occasions where Angie has recognized a significant date for someone in her social circle and honored it appropriately without that person having any recollection of telling of her that such a date even existed, let alone when it was.

Neal - For the people he cares about, yes. Otherwise, probably not.

Elarin - Dates of personal importance, to her or those close to her, yes -- though mostly by setting up alerts to remind her and other, more subconscious methods. Otherwise she has trouble remembering what day it is.

Meaghan - She’s pretty good at remembering, unless something very serious comes up to distract her.

Leah - She’s good at remembering the actual date, but between all her responsibilities, the incredibly low likelihood of coming across any accurate calendars, and the fact that the Commonwealth’s weather patterns have changed a lot since she was growing up, she might not realize an important date has come up.

Avery - For Avery, recognizing the occasion is more important than getting the date absolutely right, but she is decent at recalling dates, and she makes a point for those to whom getting the date right is important.

Ash - As soon as he learns about an important date for someone who’s more than a casual acquaintance, he writes it down in his personal calendar/address book. You would really have to work to aggravate him enough not to send you a birthday card, once you’re in the book.

Lanzo - Yes, but after this much time, he occasionally mixes up what day is important to what person. Especially awkward when he confuses someone in the house’s birthday with the birthday of, say, one of his wives.

Connie - With a little effort, he can. He has a calendar with every important birthdate written down on it.

Aidan - Nope!

Nate - He remembers all important dates for his immediate family, and a few for his extended family. Otherwise, not really.

Q - Yes. Not really a benefit to him at present, seeing as most of the significant dates he remembers are for his ex-girlfriend and terrible aunt and uncle.

Niner - Vaguely aware of approaching holidays. Otherwise, can’t even tell what day of the week it is, or even what the days of the week are. She’s almost certain “Wednesday” isn’t a real word.

Amanda - She tries, but she gets so involved in her work that it can slip her mind until it’s too late. She really does put in an effort for her closest friends and family.

Ian - Answered.

Lauren - The only important dates she can really remember are those of her family and Ian’s family.

Kira - She only has to hear it once to remember it. Now if only that worked for her history tests …

Darcy - Has been known to forget when his own birthday is, so that would be a no.

Susanna - Not particularly, though she has on multiple occasions surprised people by remembering an important date they were sure she’d forgotten.

Long enough for you? Thanks for asking, though! Still fun working through these. Most of these, anyway. (Poor Neal ... )

[assortedcorn]

I Choose You, Cullen Rutherdord AU Pt.1

I will be posting this on AO3 and will put the link in here!

Also! Trigger warning, I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable!

And, before I post, this is my take on a MGIT fic but instead with cully-wully. Leave some feedback and let me know what you think!

···

One:

The day had been busy, the now disbanded Inquisition was scattered around Skyhold tending to those in need. Leliana’s scouts had reported that this was the day Solas would be ripping down the veil and destroying the world. Regret and fear hung heavy on the shoulders of all the people involved with the Inquisition, wondering if they could have done more to save their precious world. What more could they do, you ask? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Evelyn tried to stop her old friend, twice now. She had been injured the first time and then gravely injured the second time. Solas had already taken her arm and nearly killed her, all of Skyhold heard of the news during the Exalted Council. Evelyn had changed after that, losing her arm, her confidence and her ability to want to move forward. Of course, Cullen, her love, had given her the strength she needed to continue on. She had tried so hard to change Solas’ mind but he was hell bent on destroying their world, even if he cherished Evelyn’s friendship so. In the time that they all had left together, most of the Inquisition were with their families or friends to spend their last moments together. Leliana and Josie were in Lelianas tower, reminiscing the old day when they were young. Dorian and Bull were together and spending their last moments drinking the finest wine they could get their hands on and loving one another. Cassandra found herself praying, as she was the new Divine, she was in the Chantry praying. Varric had gone back to Kirkwall and was spending the rest of his time writing, as usual. He wrote about the times he had as part of the Inquisition and the amazing people he met, knowing no one would ever read his last story. Vivienne had spent her time with her closest friends and was hosting a farewell party in her salon. Anyone was welcome, as she wanted even the lowest of status to feel comfortable in their last moments. Sera and scout Harding were in Seras room, doing Maker knows what. Probably eating cookies and delighting in each other as they always did since their blossoming relationship started. Thom, AKA Blackwall spent his time with the Wardens and had been with the younger recruits, preparing them for what could possibly come. Even he knew the world ending was scary no matter how old you were, he wanted to help. Even Cole had taken it upon himself to heal the last hurts and ease the minds of those waiting for their imminent demise, he always wants to help. For a moment, people were calm and almost at peace even though the sky was starting to fall.

As for Evelyn and Cullen, they were spending their last minutes together in bed. Evelyn was found in Cullen’s tight embrace, their bodies as close together as possible. She was resting in his lap whilst he laid against the headboard of his bed, leaning his head against the stone wall behind them. Cullen rubbed circles on her back, trying to calm and soothe her even though he could barely stay calm himself. The world was ending, Solas had finally done his deed and the sky was tearing. There were so many things Cullen wanted to do with Evelyn, with his family and friends once they had time to retreat to new homes. He wanted kids, he wanted to marry his woman, and he wanted to create a life that would help those with lyrium withdrawal. The same eerie dark green color lit the sky but instead of white clouds and blue sky, everything was dark. It was almost like nighttime had come and stolen the sun. The sounds of people screaming echoed through the keep, crying, and prayers to whoevers gods could also be heard throughout. The sounds of crashing and rumbling clapped throughout the sky like thunder and lightening, oh, if it were only that.

Evelyn wrapped her arms around Cullens neck, burying her face into his shoulder with hot tears running down her cheeks. “We should have gotten married. I’m so sorry, Cullen.” Evelyn cries, regretting her decision to wait.

Cullen had proposed to her during the Exalted Council and Evelyn convinced him to wait to plan a legitimate wedding. Evelyn dreamed of flowers, candles, and all of her friends and family being there to watch her marry the man of her dreams. She dreamed of good food and good alcohol, dancing and singing, being around those she loved to celebrate their hard work as a team. She had assumed they’d have more time but time was now not a luxury they could have.

“Do not mind it, my love. We are together now and that is all that matters.” Cullen coos, trying to calm her more. He kisses her hairline softly and presses his head against hers.

“We will be together. By the Makers side, we will be together there.” Evelyn tried to convince herself. She was Andrastian, her faith unwavering throughout her life, even thriving when she met Cullen. She couldn’t believe she was worthy enough to lead an army for a just cause, let alone being graced with Cullen’s love.

“Of course, that is where all the Makers children will be. We will all be together again at the golden gates and live out eternity there, you and I, Evie.” He whispers, choking back a sob.

“You and I, always.” She cries.

“Until the end of forever, even after that.” Cullen finishes, their promise they made from years ago shining bright in their hearts.

The keep began to shake and break, stone jumbling off the roofs and battlements. Earthquakes rocked Skyhold, the screams of those caught beneath rubble could be heard and made Evelyn shake like a leaf. She wanted to help them, she truly did but her desire to spend her final moments with the love of her life was stronger. The mountains began to tumble and the rumbling of the avalanches barreling around them was loud and horrific. The air around them started to stiffen and get tighter, making it harder to breathe every few minutes.

“Promise me, you’ll love me forever Cullen.” Evelyn sobbed.

“Of course I will, why would you even say that?” Cullen asked, bewildered.

“I just want to hear you say it before..”

“I will love you for the rest of time, for the rest of eternity. I love you now and always Evelyn Amallia Maria Trevelyan, Evelyn Rutherford.” He cries, tears falling off his cheeks and into Evelyn’s hair.

“Thank you.” She whispers. “Let’s get married on the other side?”

“I wouldn’t want to with anyone else, Evie.” Cullen smiled.

It was unbearable, the sounds of the sky made whilst breaking apart. It was deafening now. Cullen and Evelyn could barely hear anything. They were holding each other as tight as their bodies would allow when the violent quakes grew worse and the lighting and loud books from the sky grew. It was time. The atmosphere thinner and the pain from lack of oxygen took their breaths away. Cullen and Evelyn were inseparable in this moment, no matter what fate had in mind, they’d always be together.

"Cull-"

All within a moment, the loud crack of the sky coming down had bellowed all throughout Thedas. All Cullen heard was Evelyn’s soft “I love you” before everything was black. Empty. No sound. Nothingness.

------

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Cullen thrashed around like a fish out of water. Strange things were attached to his body, weird sounds echoed throughout his ears, and his eyes searched around the room only making his panic grow stronger. Cullen was having a full blown panic attack. His breathing was shallow and quick, he was sweating and yelling, he couldn’t recognize anything around him. Then again, a slight pain and then he started to fall asleep.

“Will he be okay?” A voice rang through his ears. An angel? Andraste? No, he knew this voice but from where?

“He’s experienced quite a shock, although, after x-rays, he didn’t have any damage to his bone or organs. He doesn’t have any life threatening wounds either, so yes, he will be fine."

“He keeps mumbling about someone and something.”

“Of course, he’s delirious from the shock of being hit and from his medicines. He should come out of it within the next hour or so.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

“You saved his life, miss. He’s lucky you got to him so quickly or else he would have been in more trouble.” Saved his life? Had he truly been brought out of the world ending by a woman? This story sounded all too familiar to him, the story of Evelyn’s arrival in Haven.

“Ah, yeah, I guess.”

“Do not discount your heroic act, it is already all over the news. If you weren’t there to stop more cars from coming, he could’ve been killed.”

“I understand, doc. Thank you for your help.”

“Be careful when he wakes, he will be scared and I’m sure will freak himself out. If you need me, let one of the nurses know. Okay?”

“Yes, thanks.”

Cullen’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he entered a deep sleep once more.

------ Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Cullen could hear weird noises around him, from behind his eyelids he could see faint light. Was he dead? Would he soon face the Maker? He rolled his head to the side and stretched his fingers out. He felt a soft material beneath him, almost like a blanket? He opened his eyes slightly, wincing from the bright lights. His eyes roamed the room he was in and saw white walls and marble floors, a curtain hanging from a metal ceiling and strange contraptions all around him. His heart began to beat faster as he continued to evaluate his surroundings, growing more and more anxious from the unfamiliarity. This is not the golden city. His eyes shot open and he tried to move but his body would not let him. He looked at his arms to see weird things attached to him, coming from his veins. He had weird patches attached to one of the contraptions on his chest. He turned his head to the side when he heard a small noise, almost a light snore. He was stunned by what he saw sleeping in a chair next to him.

She was curled into herself, her head resting on large pillow against the top of the chair. Her legs pressed into her chest so her feet could rest on the arms of the chair while her face, shoulders, and chest were covered by her cascading golden tresses. Who is this woman and why is she dressed funny? The lady wore a strange material on her legs, it was a dark blue color with rips where he knees were. She wore a large knitted sweater that was a light shade of blue, baby blue. She wasn’t wearing any shoes, as it would have most likely been more comfortable to sleep without them. She was lightly snoring, a sound he recognized but couldn’t find the heart to come to terms with his lover being gone. Where is she? Where am I?

The machine monitoring his heart rate had started to beep louder and louder, waking the woman sleeping in the chair. She slowly propped her head up and turned to face Cullen, a look of surprise written across her features. If Cullen was still alive, he was sure his heart stopped as his breath caught in his throat. Her hair moved around her as she shifted in her seat, causing it to fall down her back and the loose hairs fell down the sides of her face. She tilted her head to look at him and her blue eyes, color akin to lyrium, pierced Cullen’s heart. His heart was pounding in his chest as he stared at the woman who looked identical to his lover. She had the same soft, pale skin and beautiful rosy pink lips. The only difference was the color of her hair. Evelyn’s hair was red and shoulder length, she was a warrior so she cut her hair for efficiency. This woman had long blonde hair. She leaned over towards his bed and gently placed her hand on his, tenderly squeezing it and nearly sending Cullen through the roof. She felt just like Evelyn, Cullen thought the Maker was mocking him. Playing with his emotions, he thought. What kind of hell would he wake up in without his love?

“You’re awake, how are you feeling?” She asked, knitting her brows together to examine his reaction. Makers breath, she even has her voice! Cullen decided this was punishment from the Maker himself, for something he did. Maybe it was for his actions towards mages from when he was young. Maybe it was punishment for stopping his lyrium intake? Something must have caused the Maker to pursue his wrath upon the man.

“I, uh, who are you?” He asks, starting to sweat from his nerves.

“Ella.” She smiles, making Cullen’s heart ache worse than it did before. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I’m not exactly sure. I don’t think you would believe me if I told you, I’m having a hard time believing it myself… I was so sure I...died.” Cullen breathed, his chest pinching.

“You were hit by a car.” Ella reminded him.

“A car? What in the void is that?” He questioned.

“The thing that hit you?” She asked, confused as to why he was asking what a car was. “I’ll, be right back…”

Ella wandered out of the room they were in and she found one of the nurses, she asked them to find the doctor for her. After about five minutes of waiting at the desk, the doctor found her and asked how Cullen was. “Are you sure you scanned everything?” She asked.

“I’m one hundred percent sure. Why?” He asks.

“He has no memory of what happened nor does he know what a car is.” Ella says skeptically.

“I’m sure he’s just suffering from amnesia since he’s coming off the anesthesia and because he hit his head when he was struck. I’m sure he’ll come around.” The doctor states, checking his clipboard full of papers.

“A-Are you sure?” She asks.

“I’m very sure. He can be discharged soon, so let’s make sure he finds a relative or a friend to stay with.” The doc suggests before waving goodbye and tending to another patient.

Ella walked away and went back into the room with Cullen. He was just laying there with his eyes closed and his hands over his face. He looked like he was shaking but Ella couldn’t be too sure. She got close to him and stood next to the bed “hey, are you alright?”

Cullen pulled his hands away from his face and revealed a face covered in tears and anguish. Ella had no idea what had gotten into him since she left but she was sure he was okay before! Why was he crying? Such a beautiful man crying before her, broke her heart. Ella had such a strong desire to help people and it was her calling. She was there at the right time and place when Cullen wandered out into the middle of the road and was struck. She wanted to help him so badly, her heart cried out for him, it was strange but Ella couldn’t help it.

“Oh, no, no, what’s the matter? Are you in pain? Should I go get a nurse?” She scrambled, ready to leave before Cullen grabbed a hold of her forearm to stop her.

“I am sorry. I am very confused by this world and my surroundings. I told you, you wouldn’t believe me..” He sobbed.

“I don’t understand… this world? Don’t you have any family or you know.. a girlfriend or a wife to stay with? Unless you’re not.. that’s cool, too.” She stuttered, trying to find the right words as she watches the handsome man fall apart before her eyes.

He was rather large with large muscles, his arms were littered with scars and so was his chest. He had sort of long, honey colored curls that hung down the base of his neck and above his forehead. His eyes were the color of amber and they were certainly a sight you could lose yourself in, the type that fictional characters only have. He observed her, his eyes raked over her whole body as he examined the woman in front of him. The feeling of his eyes made Ella think awful things and she doesn’t even know the guy! Of course, she was no stranger to the wandering eyes of men but his did not seek what most did. His eyes were looking for familiarity, he was looking for someone in her.

“My family and friends, along with my fiance died.” He whispers, almost looking like the words died was still new and foreign to him.

“I am so sorry… I had no idea. I’m an imbecile, I shouldn’t have asked. I only asked because the doctor told me to ask you.” She sighs, running her hands over her face and through her hair, letting out a groan of embarrassment.

“It is still a new pain to me but you are not at fault for asking.” Cullen said, trying to smile. He noticed the girl before him was flustered easily, something Evelyn was not. Ella had grown red in the face and neck and Cullen was sure it was because she was embarrassed. Evelyn was a wild spirit, she said whatever she wanted and did whatever she wanted to and when she wanted to. Although, the woman next to his bed seemed like a sincere creature, he barely remembered the conversation he heard while asleep and recognized she saved his life. Well, he had died and thought this was all an illusion but now… Now he’s sure it’s all real and that he has woken up in a different world. The guilt of being alive instead of all those poor people, instead of Evelyn, plagued his mind. Why me? He wondered why he was the lone survivor, would he ever cross paths with his friends or family again?

“I never got your name, the doctor needs it for your discharge papers.” Ella questioned.

“Cullen, Cullen Rutherford.” He replies, a sigh falling from his lips as he observed the line of fluid tucked into his hand. He watched as the liquid moved along from the little baggie hanging above his head into his skin. It was strange but he imagined it would not be there unless it was to help him and he did not have much fight left in him so, he laid his arm back down.

“Okay, Cullen, do you have anywhere to go once you’re discharged?” Ella asked, sitting back down in her chair.

“If I’ve no friends nor family, then no.” He responds, coldly.

“I apologize.” She sighs, hanging her head low before pulling out a new invention he’s never seen before. She fiddles with it, tapping on its surface a few times before holding it up to her ear. Is she communicating with that thing?

“Anna, hi, yeah it’s me, is my sister available?” Ella asks into the device. “Yes, thanks.”

[sidhelives]

I'm sorry I ruined your party 👀

Hope everyone is ready for a new OC and some serious canon-divergent bullshit

Kirkwall was burning. Yellow-orange flames licked the sky, high and bright enough to reflect in the murky water surrounding the city until even the harbor appeared to be on fire. Over the creaking and crumbling of scorched timbers Hawke could hear screaming; haunting hollow sounds of anguish and fear that reminded him too much of Lothering. His jaw tensed, his guttural growl of anger lost in the cacophony of destruction, as his greatsword crashed through the guard of another Qunari warrior. The enemy's howl of pain cut through the tumult, before being sharply silenced by Hawke's savage thrust.

He was not going to lose another home.

Hawke surged up the steps towards the Viscount's Keep, vision tunneled by rage. Arrows and bolts shrieked by him, the deadly aim of his companions maiming and staggering enemies who lined the stair. The sharp coppery scent of blood preceded even sharper cracks of lightning that set his hair on end as they ricocheted between the Qunari. Frost rimed his blade as it shattered frozen invaders, ice exploding into razor-sharp shards that sliced hairline fissures into his skin. Before they could even bleed they were gone, the tingle of healing magic the only evidence that they had ever existed.

Hawke barely heard the thunderous pounding of sword against shield, hardly saw the flashes of lyrium blue and swathes of hot red it left in its wake. His focus was filled up by the adversary before him, then another, and another all leading to the immense doors, behind which lay the end of the madness that had overtaken Kirkwall.

The septet methodically cut down the guard, a wave of vengeance ripping violently through their ranks, until nothing but air stood between them from the Keep's entrance. Hawke did not take the time to enjoy the victory, the steel of his boot splintering the doors with a vicious kick that sent them crashing into the inside walls. The boom of wood against plaster reverberated through the empty marble hall, the fine imported Antivan carpets doing nothing to smother the echoes. Thick stone insulated the Keep's interior from the maelstrom of devastation beyond its walls and the tread of fourteen feet resembled the footfalls of an army in the eerie silence. Leading with a pace that invited no argument or discussion, Hawke took the stairs two at a time.

The Arishok would pay for the carnage he had brought down upon the city. No matter what the Qun may have demanded, Hawke required retribution.

Skittering, dashing footsteps careened into the Keep through the wide-flung doors. Seven sets of eyes snapped to the entrance, hands drawing bowstrings and beginning complicated gestures of spell weaving. It was only due to Hawke's halting arm thrown up as he recognized the figure which saved her from the attack.

"Isabela?" Hawke would recognize those legs anywhere. There were other, equally identifiable parts of her anatomy, of course, but they were hidden behind an enormous tome which the renegade clutched tightly to her chest.

"Hawke!" She skidded to a halt, relief washing over her features. "Andraste's tits, this is a shit show, isn't it?"

A smile cracked Hawke's stern set features. "What are you doing here?"

Isabela rolled her eyes. "I didn't come back for you if that's what you're asking."

Hawke tried to not look disappointed. "Then why?"

She sighed, climbing the stairs to join the others on the landing. "My hitherto unseen conscience reared its ugly head."

"Is that it?" Varric nodded toward the book she held.

Looking uncharacteristically sheepish, Isabela nodded. "Keeping Castillon off my back didn't seem quite as worth it when I saw the flames." She held the book out, thrusting it towards Hawke's chest. "They want it so bad, they can have it and fuck off back to Par Vollen."

Hawke raised a brow. "So why are you giving it to me?"

Isabela scoffed. "Well, I'm not going in there."

"You have to apologize," Hawke stated firmly.

Varric chuckled. "Yeah, time to make nice, Rivani."

"An admission of fault would do well to prove your contrition," Fenris agreed.

Isabela looked at them like they'd collectively sprouted second heads. "You have got to be kidding. They'll drag me off in chains."

Hawke's expression hardened. "I'm not going to let that happen."

Their eyes met, and Isabela slowly pulled the book back. "You really mean that."

He nodded firmly. "I do."

A roar ripped through the hall beyond them which lead deeper into the Keep and everyone's attention snapped to the closed doors at its end.

"Well, that doesn't sound good," Merrill remarked.

"Let's go." Hawke didn't wait for the others to agree. He marched off, driven on by deep growls and furious noises of exertion emanating from the closed-off throne room. 

Whatever the Arishok was up to, Hawke intended to put a stop to it.

He raised his greatsword higher, prepared to strike, and planted the sole of his boot just below the doorknobs, dropping into a defensive stance as the doors swung open. 

Hawke took in the scene in a flash: Nobles crowded around the edges of the room, their expressions overcome in equal parts with horror and awe. Qunari warriors stood as sentries among them, their stern visages and imposing figures acting as a barrier between the masses and the center of the room. In the middle of it all, commanding the attention of all other occupants, were two figures. The Arishok was on his knees, bloodied, bleeding from dozens of small cuts, and his weapons lay scattered across the ground. Beside him a petite female elf with hair so black it appeared blue where the light hit it and a deadly curved sword held in one hand was midway through a whirling swing, and as Hawke watched the momentum of her movement carried the razor edge of her blade through the massive neck of the Arishok, severing his head from his body. 

The doors crashed into the inner walls at the same moment the head bounced unceremoniously to the floor, and the attention of the room was immediately focused on Hawke.

His shoulders slumped dejectedly as the Arishok's body flopped to the ground. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" He yelled, dropping his greatsword with a clang.

The elf lowered her blade and narrowed her eyes at him, one brow quirking up in confusion.

"Hawke here really wanted to have it out with the Arishok," Varric explained, wide smile betraying his amusement at Hawke's outcry. "You beat him to it."

"Oh," she replied simply, glancing at the corpse then back to Hawke. "I'm sorry I ruined your party."