#this is over a year after esti leaves so he’s in better shape than he is in canon

[hythlodaes]

kiss prompts! 24: as a reward (dare you to make it emileo) 🤡

also tagging @lilas ! since you both asked, here’s a little bit of modern au emileo xoxo

Leofard wakes to the sound of the shower running.

He opens his eyes for a half moment before closing them again, dragging the blanket up over his shoulder. Emile must be back from his morning run then, always up before the sun. Leofard is surprised he didn't hear him leave—usually he'll wake him when he gets up, untangling his body from Leofard, a little clumsy despite his grace on the football field.

Fooling around with the quarterback of his college team has its drawbacks as much as it has its perks.

Or whatever they're doing. It’s been months since they started hanging out, but Emile has spent the summer in Leofard's apartment. He has workouts or practice most afternoons, and Leofard has a job that he shows up to most of the time, but they always end up here at the end of the day. Leofard didn't even realize Emile wasn't going back to his dorm until he saw his guitar propped up in the corner of his room.

Neither of them have acknowledged it—the same way they don't acknowledge the framed photo of Raimille on his bureau, or how Emile goes silent whenever one of his friends brings up Varlineau.

It’s not like Leofard doesn’t think about what it means. They spend so much time together that it could be a given conclusion, if that’s who they were, if they hadn’t already agreed to keep it casual. After all, it would be such a simple question: Can I call you my boyfriend?

He’d laugh at himself if he didn’t want it so much.

The shower turns off and the apartment is quiet again for a moment before Emile enters the bedroom. He's careful at first, but then the sound of his footsteps draws nearer and he nudges Leofard’s hip over the blanket.

“Leo,” he says, his voice just above a whisper. “Are you awake?”

“Trying not to be,” he mumbles.

“Let’s go out for breakfast.”

Leofard pops one eye open to the still dim room. Emile stands over him, brown eyes bright, wet hair curving around his chin. He's still shirtless, and stray water droplets cling to his skin,trailing down to the jeans slung low on his hips. It’s hard to be annoyed with him when he looks this good. It’s not fair.

“What time is it?” Leofard asks, closing his eyes again.

"Are you hungry?"

"Emile."

“I don't want to go by myself.”

“Emile.”

“It’s early,” he admits with a soft laugh. A moment later, the weight of his body dips onto the bed, and he settles over him, thighs bracketing his hips, chest along his. Leofard lets out an annoyed sound at his wet hair dripping onto him, but Emile just says, “Come on, I’ll even pay.”

“You can pay in a couple hours.”

“I’ll kiss you,” he offers, and Leofard feels his lips graze his neck, nose brushing along his jaw as his breath ghosts against his skin. It’s hard not to react, pinned down like this with the warmth of his mouth so close to his. Leofard tilts his head blindly towards him, waiting for him to kiss him awake, but Emile pulls away completely and sits up.

“Breakfast first.”

He opens his eyes to a smile tugging at Emile's lips, and Leofard sighs, ignoring the way it sounds like a laugh. “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute.”

They dress as the warmth of the day settles in, and at the door, Leofard covers his yawn with one hand while the other presses his car keys into his palm. Emile doesn't gloat in his victory, but he does bend his head to kiss him, mouth open and soft against his.

There are worse ways to start the day.

"You're still paying, you know," Leofard says, but the words are murmured against his lips. When they part, he gives him a crooked smile. "I'll pay you back later, baby."

[runningwolf62]

@wardencommanderrodimiss

Okay this is really old and I think I originally wrote it as Brennan was just a companion but I tweaked it so he’s an Inquisitor now, I was exploring how the Redcliffe bad future would affect his and Dorian’s relationship. It was also supposed to be longer, so I’ll probably come back and finish it now that I’ve found it again.

Dorian was a bit surprised when he arrived to find someone already in his corner of the library. Brennan Trevelyan looked over the books on the shelves, occasionally muttering to himself.

“No, not that one,” he paused and turned to face Dorian, immediately he grinned.

“Dorian, always a pleasure to see you.”

Dorian looked over the younger man before him, a swipe of dark blue paint curved over one cheek, under his tattoo and several patches were scattered on his shirt. Dorian’s eyes drifted to the splash of blue in Brennan’s hair, then back to the man himself, “how can I be of service?”

Brennan’s answered with a smirk full of promises and replied, “in so many ways but right now I’m looking for a book, and I hope you can help me.”

“What in particular are you looking for?”

Brennan looked away, “there should be a book on astronomy around here, I saw it before, and I just need to look at it for two seconds.”

“And you need my help because…”

Brennan pulled his hands out from behind his back, he was not wearing his gloves, and it was obvious as to why, paint was all over his hands and fingers, which rather explained how it had gotten on his face and in his hair.

“I can’t touch anything, well I mean I could but I don’t want to end up on the receiving end of your fireballs, so…”

Dorian raised his eyebrow, “I was under the impression you were borrowing Solas’ paint to paint on the walls, not yourself.”

“Hey, most of it has gone on the walls,” Brennan insisted, tucking his arms back behind his back.

Dorian resisted the urge to point out the dried patch in his hair, “I do know what book you’re looking for though, one moment.” He’d rather hope Brennan would never come looking for it actually.

He pulled it off the shelf and offered it to Brennan, who raised an eyebrow.

“I still can’t touch it. Or turn the pages.”

“Is that a ‘please Dorian, would you be so kind as to help me in my time of need’?”

“Are all people from Tevinter this sarcastic or is this just your unique charm?”

“Oh now I have unique charm, do go on.”

“I’m sure you don’t need me to sing your praises, you do a fine job yourself,” Brennan grinned playfully, “however if that’s what it takes to get what I want, well, I’m willing to compromise.”

Dorian was tempted to reply, see how far they were both willing to go, when Brennan’s smile faded, “later though, I have to get back to painting and things. Shame, a few of your better qualities spring to mind.”

“Oh, like what?” Dorian did enjoy hearing a handsome man praise him.

“Well certainly not your humility or helpfulness,” Brennan could be as quick on his feet as Dorian on occasion, a trait most endearing.

Dorian could tell he’d get nothing more from Brennan now, as much as he enjoyed trying, “I suppose I’ll have to prove my helpfulness after all.”

He carried the book to a nearby table and opened it, Brennan used this chance to lean into Dorian’s personal space, subtle he was not, for as good as he was at stealth.

“There’s a map I need to see, page… one seventeen I think,” he chewed his lip a little as he thought, “that sounds right.”

Dorian paged through the book, the map was on the page Brennan had said, he left it open for him, and moved aside so Brennan could see.

Brennan leaned towards it, “let’s see, there’s Equinor, Judex, and there’s Servani.”

Dorian went still at the sound of Brennan naming that constellation.

Dorian and Esti stopped at the door, listening to the whispers from the room, followed by the sounds of scratches on the wall. Another one of her companions maybe, or perhaps another of Corypheus’ unfortunate trophies.

Together they slid into the room, and found more of the cells.

“Servani. The chained man. Possibly represents… represents…”

It possibly represented Andoral, but who was talking about constellations?

He peered into the cell, and was greeted by the sight of Brennan crouched at in the corner. In one hand he held a stone, carving marks into the stone that hadn’t been taken over by lyrium. The dim red light flickered over the walls, shining on the indents, Dorian recognized them as the shapes of constellations, hundreds of them were carved in sides of the cell.

Brennan could no longer see the night sky so he’d brought it into his cell with him. Whether for comfort or from madness was yet to be seen.

Esti hissed in alarm at seeing her friend like this, “Bren?”

He turned and Dorian’s eyes fell where the mark should be. Where his arm should be. Brennan stumbled to his feet, moving towards the bars, “Esti?”

“Bren?” Esti looked ready to cry, “oh Creators, what did he do to you?”

Brennan shook his head, “I was a war trophy, a prize.” He lifted his hand, “I’m alright now.” The joke fell rather flat and he let the silence stretch as they opened the cell door to let him out.

Dorian had the explanation ready but Brennan stepped right out of the cell with no further questions. He looked at Esti with a mix of relief, grief and guilt. Dorian knew he didn’t want to hear the story this vision would tell.

“You believe it’s us?” he asked, before he could help it. But how could he not, everyone else had doubted it.

“What does it matter, real or not, dead or not, demons or not, this is better than dying in that cell.” He turned to look at Dorian, his eyes red and dull, unfocused as though Dorian weren’t there, his lifeless gaze passing through him.

“Dorian?”

He blinked, and met Brennan’s gaze. His eyes were brown and clear, focused on him with a look of concern, his gaze trained on him.

“You were staring at me, and I was flattered until you suddenly looked kind of horrified.”

“Sorry,” Dorian apologized, “Got lost in thought.”

Brennan looked more concerned but nodded slowly, “are you sure you’re okay?”

“Fine, don’t you have a painting to get back to.” He waved his hand and moved back to his books, “and I have books to get back to.”

“I mean yes but you looked… not fine,” Brennan followed after him, reaching out before pulling his paint splattered hand back.

Dorian shook his head and turned to Brennan, who still looked concerned, “it’s fine, just a realization is all.” He saw no reason to tell Brennan how bad he’d been off in the future he and the other Inquisitor had seen.

Brennan pulled back, “well, umm… thank you for your help.” He rubbed the side of his neck, leaving a smear of paint from his hand, Dorian’s eyes lingered there, “I’ll see you later then.”

With that he headed off down the staircase. It hadn’t even occurred to him to ask why Brennan had come to the library with paint on his hands to look at a star chart. It was hardly the weirdest thing one of the Inquisitors’ companions, himself included, had done though. That spirit… Cole wasn’t it, had far stranger behavior. Dorian watched Brennan stop to talk to Solas briefly before heading out the door.

“In an hour I could probably make this work,” he was bragging a little, pushing himself a little but he’d have to try.

Brennan turned without a word to him, he stopped only to speak to Esti, their voices quiet, a conversation for Heralds alone. Then he headed for the doors, dagger in his unsteady hand. He didn’t even look behind him, he stopped only to wait for the other to catch up. Dorian met the Herald’s eyes, Esti didn’t look happy about this, but they had no other option. They would go back. They would stop this. This didn’t have to happen. He looked over at where the thing that had been Felix lay, before focusing again on the crystal. This didn’t have to happen.

-

It was a while before Dorian managed to catch more than just a glimpse of Brennan darting around the keep, between his research and Brennan’s own work on whatever he was doing their paths simply hadn’t crossed. Dorian wasn’t overly surprised though to find him outside one night, gazing up at the night sky.

“Evening,” Brennan greeted him with a grin, “you’re not spending the night deep in your books?”

“And you’re not spending it holed up in your room?”

“On a night like tonight?” Brennan sounded incredulous, “not a chance.”

Dorian looked up, the sky was clear and cloudless, marred only by the scar from The Breach.

Brennan was playing with was resembled opera glasses, a rather well-worn pair, “I mean, up here we have a really good view of the sky, this is one of the best views I’ve ever had. No buildings, few lights, it’s perfect.”

Dorian settled against the rampart next to him, “is that so?” It seemed fitting that a place called Skyhold would have the best view of the stars.

Brennan nodded, and offered the glasses to Dorian, “they’re not great, but if you want to look…”

Dorian held up a hand, “thank you but I’ve gone by the tavern tonight, so my grip may not be quite steady I’m afraid.”

Brennan nodded and withdrew the offered glasses, “alright, thanks. Though they can handle being dropped if you change your mind.”

Dorian followed Brennan’s gaze upwards, “I don’t believe I’ve ever told you how impressive it is how fast you are at those astrium puzzles?”

He looked over in time to catch Brennan duck his head, “thank you. Just years of staring at the sky.”

“To the point of having constellations memorized?”

Brennan shrugged, and kept playing with the glasses, Dorian studied him as he did, the way his fingers shifted over the frames, his eyes glancing between the glasses, the sky and Dorian.

“Favorite constellation?”

“Equinor, the stallion,” Brennan pointed towards the southern sky, “it’s low but you can see it, I never could in Ostwick.”

Dorian wasn’t sure which set of stars was meant to resemble a horse, but he took Brennan’s word for it, “least favorite.”

Brennan took much longer to answer, staring at the sky for far longer before answering, “if I had to pick, Judex.” He pointed to the south again but this time to the left.

“But only because I hated being a Templar,” he added, “the constellation itself is fine.”

“All those years failing to be a Templar gone to waste,” Brennan quipped, Dorian noticed his hand shook occasionally where he held his dagger, “Corypheus could stick me in his army now with the amount of lyrium in me.” The smile he offered was bitter and as brittle as the red lyrium.

Dorian blinked, Brennan was looking up again, not even paying attention to him. He’d had too much to drink, far too much.

“Did you ever have lyrium as a Templar?”

Brennan gave him a look of confused disgust, “no? I was only a recruit, never finished training, why?”

“No reason,” Dorian was studying Brennan, how many jokes had he made in the future? He couldn’t remember but then again, he hadn’t actually been paying that much attention. He’d been too busy trying to get himself and Esti back so they could stop all of it from happening. Dorian wasn’t sure anymore how much of his memories were real, and what his mind and the demons of the fade had made up to torture him night after night.

Brennan met his gaze, “hey. I have a question for you.”

“Oh?” Dorian raised an eyebrow, “are we to play a game of questions tonight?”

“You started it,” Brennan got to his feet so they now stood equal to each other, “why ask me about lyrium?”

“Seeing as we deal with the stuff constantly it was merely a question that concerned me,” Dorian replied, Brennan offered a reassuring smile.

“Well you can rest easy, I’ve never had any.” His grin turned flirtatious as his eyes roamed over Dorian, “I’m drawn to other vices.”

“Ah, a wise man,” Dorian winked back at him, though he wanted to be more than a vice, he had to admit Trevelyan had a charm to him. When he wasn’t accidentally causing chaos. Though, as Dorian made his excuses, and left Brennan there, awash with moonlight, perhaps that was also part of his charm.

-

The explosive force from the spell knocked Dorian and Brennan to the ground, Dorian scrambled back to his feet and sent a fireball back, before he realized Brennan hadn’t gotten back up.

“Brennan?”

Brennan’s body fell to the ground, limp and lifeless, they were out of time, it was time to go, he grabbed Esti’s shoulder, dragged her back to the portal, couldn’t save them now, had to go back to save them.

“Brennan!” Dorian reached down and shook the rogue, a bit harder than necessary, in an attempt to force the memory back. He wasn’t sure he’d actually seen Brennan’s body in Redcliffe castle, but now that he had the man lying at his feet, what he’d imagined seemed all too real.

Brennan grunted and shook off, water and mud spraying over Dorian, “sorry about that, hope you left some for me.” He grabbed his blades and got to his feet, he swayed a moment before Esti steadied him. They moved off side by side, Dorian followed after.

However, the image of Brennan, wracked by red lyrium and dead on the floor lingered, as did the image of Brennan unconscious on the ground, even as they made their way to where The Champion’s contact was.

To make it worse, Dorian was almost certain he hadn’t actually seen Brennan die in Redcliffe, but rather it was part of the nightmares he had. It bothered him that at some point the idea of Brennan dying had become so troubling a demon had created the image just to torment him with it.

Brennan, for his part, seemed oblivious to Dorian’s distress, wiping the rain from his face and pushing his bangs out of his eyes, “you know if we wanted to go swimming we could’ve just jumped in the lake.”

“I haven’t been swimming in ages,” Dorian commented, not since the summers when his mother and he would go boating.

“I can’t swim,” Brennan admitted, “though if this keeps up I’ll learn how in no time.”

“You can’t swim?”

“Never learned,” Brennan shrugged, “didn’t help keep mages from doing their wicked blood magic and destroying the good name of the Maker, so I was never taught.”

Dorian blinked, a response to both Brennan’s statement and the water running down his face, “you really do hold no love for the Templars do you?”

“What gave it away, my fondness for mages?” Brennan winked at him, before following after Esti, “come on, sooner we get to those caves, sooner we’re out of the rain.”

“Yes, but we might encounter those lovely oversized spiders all of Thedas seems so fond of.”

Brennan made a gagging sound at the prospect, and the image of him dead on the floor of Redcliffe Castle faded more and more.