#where’s my fucking money varric!??

[vonspe]

Have you given any thought to an au where Scipio wasn't a Crow but a Mournwatcher instead? What do you think that would be like?

I haven’t! Can’t imagine him in any other faction except the Crows or maybe Lords of fortune. Those are the ones that get paid well 😂😂

There’s no world in which Scipio would be accepted into the Watchers or Veil jumpers and no world in which he’d be a spy or a grey warden for free?? FOR FREE NO MONEY??! Get out

[rookinthecrownest]

DESPERATE to hear your fenrook thoughts what are the vibes do they have a soundtrack or song, do they have longterm endgame plans, what do they feel for each other early on and do u have an arc in mind for how that changes for them both?

HELLO HIII

OkOk so I'm working on building a playlist for them now and the only two songs I have right now are Daylight by David Kushner and Once Upon a Dream by Lana Del Ray, not necessarily for the lyrics but for ~ the vibes ~

I have to do a bit more research on this, because it has been SO long since I read Fenris' Blue Wraith/Dark Fortress comic series. From what I vaguely remember, since the time of DA2 he doesn't seem to fuuuully trust mages but he's more chill about them than he was in DA2 (someone who's read the comics more recently please feel free to chime in because it has literally been YEARS). The Hawke in this universe was not a mage (they were a rogue) but sided with the mages.

So early on I imagine, even knowing that Varric trusts Rook, the fact that she's an assassin who kills people for money and uses her magic to do that puts him off/makes him distrust her at first. Mages doubling as assassins is probably not a very common occurrence outside of the Antivan Crows/Antiva. I don't think he'd very much approve of anyone who uses magic to kill for profit.

But, as Val explains her story (eventually), maybe he comes to realize that it was either join up with the Crows and work within that system as much as she could (trying to minimize the death of innocents, much like her buddy Lucanis), or live as a prisoner in the Circle. Not sure he'll ever really be fine with it, but he at least understands why. And if Varric vouches for Val/Rook, then he's willing to give her a chance and work with her.

Early on I think Val wants to know more about Fenris, more than Fenris wants to know about Val. She's been alone most of her life and her closest friends in the Circle were.... the rats, tbh. And she mostly kept to herself in the Crows, mostly interacting with Viago (king of the social butterflies). But Fenris has a certain je ne sais quoi about him that makes her curious about him in way that she's not really experienced with anyone else. I am so certain Fenris thinks she's weird as hell at first. He's convinced she can't actually understand animals like she claims and she's just fucking with him. But maybe seeing the way she cares for her lil animal pals? Well, once you've seen a girl go on a side quest to help a bird rebuild its nest after it was knocked down during a fight it's over for you buddy....

The arc, in my head, is like...

Okay, she's a mage. Will keep my guard up, but Varric trusts her so she must be ok.

Ok, she's a mage... kills people for money, don't like that, but we need to find/stop the Dreadwolf so I'll put a pin in that for later.

Alright, this weirdo thinks she talks to animals. She's rebuilding bird nests. She's talking to the rats. Why is she talking to the rats. Ok, she's a rat now. Where the fuck did she go. I have to find the rat-girl before Varric accuses me of killing her and dumping the body.

Why does she want to know about me. Fine, I'll tell her. Oh no, she's not just weird, she's cute and weird. And off-putting. Why do I feel like I can tell her my entire life story and she will actually care.

Oh no, I love this pathetic wet rat girl maybe. And said wet rat girl who previously didn't show much interest in human companionship, who's been alone for most of her life, is curious about the guy who's also spent the last 10+ years alone fighting for what he believes in and is drawn to that.

But like..more drawn out than that obviously. That's the vibe the pairing gives me. It's reluctant at first. There's distrust. She's a mage who kills for money, he's a mage-killer. They form a tenuous connection at first, and for long time they don't really know how deep that tenuous connection really is.

Long term goals... I don't now if I've gotten that far. Like, one idea I was floating around was Lucanis, as first talon, coincidentally giving Val contracts for evil mages/venatori remnants in Tevinter so she can stay and help Fenris.

That's all I have so far but I'm going insane over it lololol

[sky-fire-forever]

happy dadwc! been playing da2, so how about some varric/hawke for a prompt this week (:

-inquisimer

Thank you so much for the prompt!

My Hawke in this one is Aurora Hawke, who uses she/her pronouns

Aurora Hawke wouldn’t consider herself to be anything special. Sure, she’s the great Champion of Kirkwall, but that was mostly due to her friends and luck. Whether that’s good luck or bad luck remains to be seen. 

But she’s nothing special, honest. She’s just one woman with some good friends by her side. Friends who she’d do anything for and who would do a helluva lot for her in return if given the chance. Friends who are more like family, especially after everything she’s lost. 

It’s strange, feeling so loved by her friends. By the people she’d give up her life for. She’s used to being self-sacrificing, but she’s less used to being surrounded by people who won’t let her throw her life away. Who care about her as much as she cares about them. 

Of course her mother loved her, as did her siblings, but it just isn’t the same. People just aren’t meant to love people like Aurora the way she loves them. 

And yet they do. 

She can't imagine why. 

She grins as Anders tells another bad joke and Fenris rolls his eyes. The two of them may act like they hate each other, but she knows their little secret: they'd die for each other if need be. She watches Merrill curl up halfway in Isabela's lap and catches Sebastian and Aveline in some sort of deep conversation. Everyone is right at home, as they should be.

Varric is sitting at Aurora's side, as he always is. Always right beside her, always there for her to rely on. She appreciates Varric more than anyone could possibly know.

“You look lost in thought, giggles,” Varric points out with a grin. “Copper for your thoughts?”

She shoots him a grin. “Only a copper?”

“I've got bills to pay, Hawke.” 

“And you have plenty of money to pay them with.” Aurora takes a sip from her drink. “I'm just… happy,” she admits. 

Varric raises an eyebrow. “Is that all?”

“Yeah.” She looks around at her friends and sighs wistfully. “I didn't know I could be this happy.”

Varric sets his drink down and reaches over to lay a hand on her arm. “Well, you know you deserve it, right?” He squeezes her arm. “With all the shit you've been through? If anyone deserves a fucking break, it's you.”

Aurora shrugs. “Maybe. It's still nice to appreciate it now and then.”

Varric grins. “Good. Appreciate it.”

They lapse into silence, Aurora listening in on the debate that's erupted between Anders, Merrill, and Sebastian. It’s nice to listen to them bicker, to know they inspire huge feelings from one another despite their claims that they couldn’t care less about each other. They’d only get so worked up if they cared what the others thought, after all. 

She gets up to get another drink and hears Varric follow after her. “Can't get enough of me?” She teases while hoping it's true. 

Varric chuckles. “I just needed a refill.” He holds up his empty cup. 

Aurora pouts at him. “You don't need to make up excuses, Varric. If you wanted to confess your love for me where no one can hear, you just needed to say the word.”

It's a tease, a game the two of them play. But she finds herself wishing it was more than that even though she knows it can't be. Varric sees her as a friend and she's grateful for his friendship. It's all she can ask for. 

Varric rolls his eyes. “You wish.”

She does. 

They stand together by the bar while Corff refills their drinks and Aurora looks back at her friends. They're still arguing, but there's a smile on Isabela's face as her hand rests on Merrill's back and there's a look of exasperated fondness on Anders’ face as he tears Fenris’ argument apart. They may be arguing, but they love each other, each and every one of them. 

“It's thanks to you, you know,” Varric says.

“Huh?”

“You're the one who brought us all together, oh great Champion of Kirkwall.” He gestures to the table where their friends sit. “And you're the real reason why we all stay.”

Aurora feels her cheeks heat up in a blush. “You're exaggerating again, Varric. You better catch yourself before your stories run away with you.”

“This isn't a story.” Varric shifts so he's facing Aurora completely, looking up and into her eyes. “We care about each other, sure. But we never would have if it weren't for you.”

The open honesty on Varric’s face is overwhelming, so Aurora looks away. “I think you've drank too much,” she teases because she can't think of any honest way to respond without embarrassing herself. 

Varric shrugs. “Maybe, but you're something special, Hawke. Remember that, would you?”

And then he's walking back to the table, leaving Aurora to stare after him, the blush not gone from her face. 

[bluecladone]

Ngl if Varric dies in DA:TV it's going to severely impact my enjoyment of the game. I'll still play it, of course. I'm not the type to completely write a game off because of a plot point i don't agree with, to make no mention of the money spent. I'm sure the game is fine as a whole and I want to see Solas's story--and by extension, the DA setting--come to a close. But God, to kill off Varric of all characters...more under the cut.

Like don't get me wrong, I'm a huge fan of angsty, high stakes, kill-your-darlings type of plots, but it MUST have some kind of point. Killing Varric right at the start doesn't really serve much of a purpose. Like we don't need any motive or other driving force when we've been given plenty enough already a la the events and ending of Inquisition. We're well aware of the stakes. Killing Varric away from the people who loved him best (Hawke and crew, or whoever's left) surrounded by strangers (with the exception of Harding and Solas) would be such a disservice to his character. Add in extra yuck with the way EA/Bioware treated his writer, Mary Kirby. It just feels like an extra 'fuck you.' Besides, using him as such a heavy marketing tool for years only to kill him off is so cheap.

Maybe the writers didn't know what to do with him. (And maybe this is a direct result of Mary Kirby's layoff) Maybe they were afraid of the criticism they'd get if they just wrote him into retirement. I get it. Varric is a notorious busybody who shoulders a lot of responsibility, and he's so tied up into the story at this point. He's had a hand in most major plot points in the series. Not everyone would be satisfied with the retirement card. But the guy is getting old. I'm hoping and praying that they'll just settle with destroying Bianca and maybe injuring him enough to where he's like 'I'm way out of my league here, plus I've got a city to run. Time to pass this along to someone more capable.' He'd make a good advisor/mentor figure--there in the background, but still involved with the plot just enough. I feel like the team was so worried about people being disappointed that they couldn't have him as a companion that they jumped to the extreme to give us a good reason why and a chance for D✨️R✨️A✨️M✨️A.

Honestly, I wouldn't mind so much if they chose to kill him at the end, or shit--literally any point besides the very beginning. It's the last game in the series. Much like in Mass Effect 3, the world as we know it is ending and the stakes are ever higher. Not everyone is gonna make it. I know nothing is confirmed, but the set up in the trailer is so obvious. As soon as Varric tells Rook to take care of things, i got a sick feeling. Maybe they'll surprise us, but I doubt it. It's hard not to be cynical after hearing about the layoffs at Bioware and watching in real-time the development hell this game has gone through for the last decade.

Like imagine in Mass Effect Andromeda, say someone like Garrus or Liara shows up only to die right at the beginning of the story. They had no effect on the plot, other than explaining to Ryder the plot of the last 3 games to let them know why what they're doing here in the newest game should be important to them. Then they die to kickstart the plot and for Ryder to shake their fist at the villains and exclaim 'this time it's personal!' Ryder doesn't know Garrus/Liara. They met like a week ago. Plotwise, the moment falls flat emotionally when we know that Ryder wouldn't mourn Garrus/Liara as much as we know Shepard might. It should go without saying that a character dying would impact your main character more if those characters got to know each other throughout the story, but it's what I'm saying. I think it's better to shock your characters more than your audience.

And that's what this is. Shock value for the audience, to make us clutch our pearls and shake our fists at whoever is responsible for a beloved character's untimely demise. To make us care about a plot we're already invested in, and have been for 10 YEARS. Or maybe to get away from the uncomftability of having a character with an arc they don't know how to end gracefully. If they go the way I think they're going, anyway. Fingers crossed so so so hard that they surprise me.

[thessalian]

Molly!Rook vs D'Meta's Crossing

After a brief amount of wandering around, at the end of a boat journey

Bellara: ...So that's why the shinies thing!

Molly!Rook: Well, that and the fact that if I want to be equipped halfway decently... Trade is a thing!

Neve: So ... it's professional habit and avarice, then.

Harding: More "survival", I think. And, I mean, they're generous to a fault -- look at this! I think I'm gonna call her "Mayhem"!

Molly!Rook: Yeah, I guess another bow with a regular woman's name would be a bit on the nose, huh.

Harding: ...yeah...

Bellara: ...Why are the docks so quiet?

Neve: I'm with you on this one, Bel. Dock Town's my usual stomping grounds, and docks are never quiet.

Bellara: ...Bel?

Neve: No?

Bellara: Oh, no, I like it! I've just ... never had a nickname before!

Molly!Rook: Okay, given Harding's face, we're avoiding where the nicknames usually come from and going on to ... fog and silence. I read a book like this once. If we see an undead with a huge sword and geometry for a face, I'm leaving.

Bellara; Harding: ...wut.

Neve: We'll explain that one later. Though I really want to know where you found an old Tevinter penny-dreadful cautionary tale out here.

Molly!Rook: It's actually stolen from the elven. Originally set not far from here and-- What the fuck is this.

'This': *is a barricade*

Harding: ...Mayhem?

Neve: That barricade is to keep things in. Maybe quietly and save mayhem ... or ... "Mayhem", if you like ... for later.

Molly!Rook: Okay, parkour it is; hup-- OH EW!

Harding: What?!? ...Oh shit.

Molly!Rook: You've seen this stuff before, Harding; what kind of soap do you need to get Blight off? Really wish I was more into shoes right now...

Bellara: Did you just say--?!?

D'Meta's Crossing: *is full of Blight*

Further into D'Meta's Crossing

Molly!Rook: None of this is stopping me from being tense about the potential upcoming appearance of Geometry-Face, you know.

Harding: This ... this isn't like the Blight I know. It doesn't act like this! And ghouls are usually just ... maddened, not ... not like that.

Neve: It feels like Blight got mixed with ... blood magic, somehow.

Molly!Rook: Might make sense, honestly; the call archdemons make to get darkspawn to dig them out probably works the same way--

Neve: How do you know that much about archdemons and Blights?

Molly!Rook: You may have noticed how much Varric likes to talk. He hung out with the Champion of Kirkwall, whose brother ended up a Warden, and then he hung around with, and I quote, "The Nightingale", who apparently ran around with the Hero of Ferelden. You pick stuff up.

Harding: ..."Likes".

Molly!Rook: Yeah, I know it's too weak a word, but underplaying for comedy is a thing. *blows up a Blight boil*

Harding: No, I meant-- What the fuck are you doing?

Molly!Rook: Checking for survivors who aren't apparently stuffing people into houses with pitchforks-- ooooooooh shit.

Neve: I take it that there's no shiny or survivors in there.

Molly!Rook: Shiny, yes. Survivors, no. Note indicating that the mayor here is a greedy motherfucker who gives zero shits for his people and almost definitely let this happen or worse? Also yes.

Harding; Bellara: He. WHAT?!?

Neve: There ... is a blood magic component here.

Molly!Rook: I hope the Blight fucking ate him.

A little while later, after a visit from a very big dragon

Molly!Rook: Man. Not even the dragon wanted to eat you.

Mayor: Help! Let me out! Please!

Molly!Rook: What. Did. You. Do?!?

Mayor: I was trying to protect my people! Really! And if I happened to do it by sacrificing a couple of You People and made an awful lot of money in the process ... well...

Bellara: ..."You ... People"?!?

Molly!Rook: Veil Jumpers, Dalish, or elves in general; spin the Wheel o' Bigotry on that one. Also, dude, want to identify the several parts of that sentence you shouldn't have said?

Mayor: I ... I was seduced by a god!

Harding: And apparently a lot of money.

Molly!Rook: Look. Dude. If you were so keen on gold that you tried to drag it all with you while running for your life from the mess you made? This is what that gold has bought you. Enjoy.

Neve: But ... I mean ... he was under the influence of blood magic!

Molly!Rook: And might be still. And probably will be again, because he's ticking back and forth between "I know what to expect and can resist it now" and "You don't know what it's like to be controlled by something so powerful". He earned this. He deserves this.

Neve: And we're the ones to decide?

Bellara: *opens her mouth*

Molly!Rook: I got this, Bel. Neve ... he decided to try to buy his wealth - both current and future, since I did find notes that he fucked this village over for money time and time and time again - with Veil Jumper lives. We are Veil Jumpers. We deserve justice for our own.

Bellara: Thank you; I would not have said that so well.

Neve: ...Honestly, I was expecting more yelling and profanity. You're usually more ... excitable.

Molly!Rook: My mind runs all over itself like a litter of happy sled dogs. They're a pile of limbs and ridiculous most of the time, but harness them up and get them moving in the same direction, you get results.

Neve: It disturbs me how much sense that makes.

Harding: Well, let's just get those brain-dogs in a saving-the-world direction.

Molly!Rook: Can we, like, draw straws on who tells Strife about this?

Bellara: Sorry, Rook, buuuuut I think it should be you. I mean, you're good at giving him bad news by now.

Molly!Rook: Yeah, but given that I'm about to bend all my brain-dogs towards saving the world, can't I have a little vacation from it?!?

Harding: We'll have your back, Rook.

Molly!Rook: Thanks. Though you're a little short to hide behind when I need to escape the glare if he decides to blame me for this somehow.

Back at Veil Jumper HQ

Morrigan: *appears, awesomely*

Molly!Rook: .........okay that was awesome.

Morrigan: I can provide information, should you need it. And you will need it.

Harding: Hi again. Sorry; guess you're still the Elven Expert.

Morrigan: 'Tis fitting, I suppose, that I retake the role. Given that my attempts to explain my knowledge to a literal evanuris were somewhat less well-received with at least some members of the Inquisition than they seem to be here.

Harding: You ... were kind of explaining elven history to a Keeper-in-training and an actual evanuris, Morrigan.

Morrigan: ...Indeed. Though had I known that latter at the time, I might have reacted differently.

Molly!Rook: Okay, look. We've got a shot at this. Bellara, you can play with the eluvian--

Bellara: Is ... is a "squee" appropriate right now? Because I kind of want to squee about that but also the world might be ending because of our gods so maybe it's not appropriate--

Molly!Rook: Take your squee where you can get it, Bel. We should probably see if we can find that dagger Solas was using; anything that might tell us what the fuck happened and how we can un-fuck all this. Neve, you're the best at looking for clues, and also you probably Know People so maybe more allies would be good. Anyway, point is, we put your skills and talents together with my absolute refusal to be told I can't do something, and we can deal with our stupid kinda-gods.

Harding: ...We have to go back there?

Molly!Rook: I mean, I know it wasn't fun, but it could have ended a lot worse. We can do this, Harding. C'mon. I think I know the way from here. *exits, stage Ritual Site*

Neve: Should ... we be worrying about that?

Harding: We all have our coping mechanisms, I guess? Or maybe they're just handling it better than we are. You want to force them into that conversation before they're ready and risk them breaking down when they're actually getting shit done?

Neve: Point taken.

Bellara: ...What are we talking about now?

Molly!Rook: Um ... guys? Scavenger hunt for blue glowy dagger-thing of stupid?

Neve; Harding: Never mind.

[lamaison]

Day 5 of Dragon Age: The Veilguard (spoilers ahead!!) I'm back at work so it's shorter sessions on the weekdays now.

- I thought I should give a look at my Rook, so have a fuzzy photo of my tv. Her name is Arianna, she's an elf Veil Jumper who loves discovering ancient elven history and artifacts. This girl loves her some ruin puzzles.

- And now I can say officially that her partner is Emmrich! We had TWO more dates, we kissed in both, and I got the option to commit to his romance. The devs were saying his romance was a more intimate, sensual flavor and they were not kidding. There's a slight hiccup on the horizon that I'm not going to spoil but I'm hoping by the end of the questline I can bring him around.

- I also came across a cute conversation between Emmrich and Neve where she calls our relationship sweet. And we have our first side relationship developing! The companions you don't romance might get together with other people, and Taash asked me about getting Harding a gift. So cute!

- I moved the main quest along a bit, and we fought dragons again. BioWare had shared some clips of the sequence before so as soon as I recognized it I was like "oh fuck this is the fight with two dragons". Even on Baby Mode this was a bit difficult. (There's a moment after where Ghilan'nain says she wants to kidnap and torture Emmrich as revenge. We'll see on a second run if she says the person you're romancing or if it was just a coincidence.)

- Because I'm on Baby Mode, I haven't been investing a lot on the weapons upgrade system. Most of my money has been going to decor, new armor fashions, and gifts. I like that you can buy little knick knacks to display in your room.

- There have been two instances now where I've picked up on weird vibes with characters that turned out to be correct. Which makes me very nervous about a thing I've noticed with Varric, which is that Rook is the only person who has directly acknowledged him since the intro fight with Solas. And I just had a conversation with Bellara where she mentions him like she's never met him before. ARE YOU A FADE GHOST IN MY HEAD VARRIC?!

[tanadrin]

so i’m playing Dragon Age 2 for the first time, and i’m always interested to see the ways in which fantasy does and does not engage with history and historical realities. for instance, in Act 1 of DA2, you make a one-off fortune in the Deep Roads and use it to buy back your family’s townhouse in Kirkwall, and you’re evidently trying to reclaim some of your family’s former status in the city. But that’s not enough on its own--I need an income to be a pirate-seducing lady about town, to say nothing of a minor noble. A fancy house won’t cut it! Darcy wasn’t an eligible bachelor because of Pemberly, he was an eligible bachelor because he made 20,000 pounds a year without lifting a finger!

Moreover, why is my dwarven manservant running around town with a bag of coins to give me my cut of the proceeds? This is a complex economy with trade guilds and major import/export capacity, and one beset by both pirates and organized crime. And yet it’s one where everyone deals exclusively in cash, and not only in cash, in high-value gold and silver coinage! Where are the letters of credit? Where are the banks? When Varric offers to make you a partner in the expedition, you have to scare up fifty gold coins in hard money; apparently these dwarves have never heard of a joint-stock company. Between the plate armor, gunpowder, and bureaucratized states with standing armies, Thedas is clearly an early modern world, but it’s one without finance of any kind. Fuck getting involved in the mage-vs-templar bullshit, if you let me be a banker I could own this continent.

[transandersrights]

Dragon Age Create-a-Thon fic post!

I participated in @dacreateathon and the creation period just ended, which means all the DA fic I've been working on for the last six weeks is now posted! That's five fics + one collab chapter.

I'd say there's something for everyone but mostly there are six things for me. HOWEVER if you enjoy Anders specifically or mage feelings generally there may in fact be something for you. I've summarised + linked each fic down below!

What if Dragon Age 2 was Varric's elaborate homebrew campaign. What if Anders decided to blow up Varric's elaborate homebrew campaign. What if Sebastian and Fenris got a little too into the roleplay. And most importantly: what if Hawke rolled a nat20 to work out that Orsino was about to do blood magic.

Do you enjoy weird little niche mage rights fics? Well, this is like 3000 words of theoretical modern Thedas Circle abolishment texts, complete with minutes from an overlong Conclave meeting and an anonymous letter to a newspaper from a very concerned mother.

A while back I posted abt how fucked up it would be if Warden Surana's mother had a kid after they were taken to the Circle and Surana found out about it. Then I wrote about my Warden, Adrel Surana, finding out about it :)

A gift fic for @midnightprelude! Basically a prelude to modern Thedas Dorian's one night stand (Anders) eventually becoming his boyfriend who radicalises him. This is mostly flirting tho.

I wrote the second chapter of this collab where Anders dropped out of med school and became a barista at Varric's money laundering front, a cat cafe! My chapter is about Cullen walking into the cafe and Anders predictably coping very well.

Have I already written about Anders meeting his mother again? Yes. But he wasn't sopping wet, exhausted, or trans that time - he is now! This fic was also a gift for @factorykat and @realace.

[aria-i-adagio]

work in progress whenever

Tagged by @atypicalacademic for WIP Whenever. Can't remember if I've posted any of this before, but hoping to work it into chapter 66 or 67. (If I survive returning to the classroom... if...)

***

“Hmm... So something you probably don’t know about Hawke...”

“Oh, Maker, Anders, don’t.”  Hawke groans and lays his head on the table.

Anders laughs and ruffles his hair.  “You don’t even know what I’m going to tell them yet.”

“That’s the terrifying part.”

“So, Varric is not the only novelist in Kirkwall.”

“Well, in a city the size of Kirkwall, I would hope Varric is not the only exemplar of the literary arts," Dorian snarks.

“Hawke is a very fine storyteller.  He and Isabela had this long-running melodrama as quarreling lovers at the Hanged Man.”

“Oh really now?”  Dorian leans forward, folding his hands under his chin.  “Do tell.”

“It starts a little before we actually go on that little Deep Roads Excursion.  So, Isabela will flirt with anyone, but she really does seem to have a type for men.  Muscular, pretty eyes, and not too tall.”  Anders nudges Hawke with his elbow until he lifts his face and feigns a grin.

Rhys chuckles.  He’s well into his cups.  “So, Hawke.”

“Yes.  Hawke.  So, eventually, he lets her down easy with the whole 'I’m sure you’re lovely, but I’m just not a connoisseur of women' speech.”

“There is no way I said anything that suave.”

Anders holds up a single finger.  “Poetic license.  Anyway.  Deep Roads, red lyrium, creepy rock monsters, so on and so forth.  We make it back.  Hawke’s rich.  Or rich-ish, Varric hasn’t fenced all the goods yet.”

He leaves out the part where Hawke ended up in the Hanged Man the same night they returned after his mother had finished screaming at him for losing Bethany, putting away several pitchers of beer with Isabela’s help, and then crying on her sympathetic shoulder until he passed out in her bed.  According to one definition, he had technically slept with Isabela.

“Money, well, you know, Hawke has girls crawling over him whether he likes it or not.”

“And you weren’t much help.”

“That’s beside the point.  So this one night he has three lovely little things just swarming him despite clear signals he's not interested, and Hawke is too nice to tell them to fuck off.  Finally, Isabela struts over, drives her knife into the center of the table, and starts having an absolutely conniption about how Hawke is her man, and she’s going to cut the next bitch -”

“It wasn’t nearly that dramatic.  More of a ‘back off, bitches, now.’”

“Let me tell the story.”

“Okay.  Okay.”  Hawke throws both hands up in the air.  “Go ahead.  I’m eager to hear about my apparent literary genius.”

“Thank you.”  Anders cups his face and kisses Hawke’s forehead.  “That’s the start of it.  From there on, get a few drinks in both of them and it was showtime.  They were either hanging off each other or having the fight of the week.”

“The fight of the week?”

“Ah, yes, alleged infidelities, some important honey-do that Hawke didn't.  Once they actually talked Fenris into a walk-on role - I’m still not sure how - and there was the week Isabela claimed to be pregnant, which actually turned into several weeks of different regulars offering her various - very ill-advised - solutions to the problem.”

“Ugh, why, Anders?  Why?  I had successfully forgotten that entire arc.”

“See, he refers to it as an arc.  I told you - storytelling.”

“Tell me, Hawke -” Dorian’s smile is practically predatory.  “Did you plan out these little stories?”

“Well -”  Hawke leans back in his chair.  “Sometimes.  Usually, we just made it up as we went along.”

“People believed it?”

“Most of the regulars caught on eventually.”

[nirikeehan]

Happy Friday! For DADWC, how about An uninvited tea party guest? Thank you!

Hi Noire, thank you for this prompt! I have taken the liberty of combining it with one requested by @melisusthewee, who asked for Sera & Thalia + "I Came, I Saw, I Left." My brain connected them in a delightful way, and I had to run with the idea.

This is a direct continuation of this (which, in turn, is a continuation of this). Angst everywhere.

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 1201 CW: Discussion of major character death

---

Thom reheats the pot of tea and foists a biscuit on Thalia — she is too thin these days, the grief wearing her down to nothing. She eats in tiny bites, breaking off bits with one hand, the crumbs multiplying on the table. Her prosthetic arm is unwieldy, stays stiffly at her side. He wants to inspect it, to see if the damn thing can be improved upon, but cannot think of a polite way to ask. 

They settle into the realm of small talk. Not his choice, but now that she’s decided to stay he can’t risk upsetting her balance and sending her flying away from him again. Dorian is tearing up the Magisterium in Tevinter, apparently. Varric is still viscount of Kirkwall — that much Thom knew, being in the general vicinity. Josephine has found a paramour and might be getting married soon. Thalia was thinking of heading to Antiva after Markham to see her, if she could not find him. Thom secretly hopes the former  ambassador will take her sweet time with the nuptials. He has no desire to let Thalia out of his sight again. 

The conversation turns to him, and Thom tries his best to fill her in without making it sound like he’s boasting. Business is good, the company has flourished; it seems there are plenty of moneyed folk in want of mercenaries that adhere to a code. “Been in the employ of too many companies that will take any job for the right price, no matter the morality of it. Gives us all a bad name. People like knowing they’re hiring men who won’t turn tail as soon as there’s a higher offer.” 

Thalia listens with her good hand propped up under her chin, blue eyes rapt with the attention she used to give him when she believed him to be a Grey Warden. Back then, he worried if she knew the truth, she would find even the most mundane details of his life inferior and abhorrent. It brings him great pride to see the opposite is true. 

The morning wiles on, the rain beating relentlessly against the windows. They both lose track of time. 

He has just coaxed her into taking another biscuit when there’s a great clatter at the front door. Thalia startles, snapping her gaze to the foyer. “Thom?”

He’s not wearing his sword, but he’s certain he locked the heavy front door. His home is in a secure section of the city, but one can never be too careful. “It’s all right,” he cautions her, “I’ll just go see—”

He has no time for more words. The door bursts open, and in stomps a blond elven woman, tartan dress soaked through and dripping, a scowl on her spritely face. “Oi, Beardy, you better be dead in here, or I swear to all possible gods, I’ll…” 

She tracks muddy water to the head of the table, where she halts, gaze bouncing between Thom and Thalia. He recalls that he did give her a key. 

“Hi, Sera,” Thalia says demurely. 

Sera blinks once. “Fucking hell.” She turns on her heels and storms out the way she came. 

“I see she’s as excited to see me as always,” Thalia quips.

Sighing, Thom stands. “Forgive me, I need to speak with her. One of my lieutenants must have sent her when I didn’t come in this morning.”

“She works for you now?” Thalia asks with a forced lightness. 

“Freelance,” Thom says, because the full story will take longer than he has to catch up with her. “Wait here.” 

He sprints after Sera into the dismal weather, boots splashing in the puddles pooling along the cobblestones. She’s easy to spot, a smear of bright red and yellow in an otherwise bleak landscape. “Sera! Sera, for Maker’s sake, will you wait a bloody minute and let me explain?” 

She’s striding with purpose back toward company headquarters, and would otherwise not have slowed down if he hadn’t closed the distance between them and took hold of her shoulder. Sera whirls to face him, scowling. 

“What’s she doing here?” Sera demands, pointing vaguely in the direction of Thalia. 

“She came to visit an old friend. What’s the matter with that?”

“Ha,” Sera spits. “Old friend? Are you listening to yourself? What happened, did ol’ Commander Tight-Knickers stop doing it for her, and now she’s looking for a consolation prize?” 

“Sera,” Thom says soberly, because otherwise she’ll go off on a colorful tangent about Thalia and her romantic choices, “the Commander is gone.” 

Sera stares at him, confused. “What d’you mean? Where’d he go?” 

“The afterlife, I presume.” 

Sera lets out an abrupt, brash laugh. It only lasts for a few seconds, as she notices Thom does not join in. “Shite. You’re not kidding, are you?” 

Thom shakes his head. 

“Shite.” Sera swipes wet hair out of her eyes. “What— happened?” 

Thom sighs. “You remember Templars and their lyrium dependency, yes?” 

“Bloody…” Sera trails off, gritting her teeth. “I should’ve given him more cake.” 

Thom decides he does not have time to parse that particular statement. “The point is, Thalia is distraught. I had to do something. Offer her some… comfort.” 

Sera squints at him, pressing her lips together. “Don’t do it again, Beardy. Please.”

“Do what again?”

“You know.” She kicks at a cobblestone at their feet. “Was bad enough the first time, what she did to you. All that will-they-won’t-they, oooh, he loves me, he loves me not—” She sighs. “It killed you a little when she picked Golden Boy. I know it did.” 

“That’s not how it went.” Thom sighs. In the old days of the Inquisition, his friendship with Sera deepened just as things with Thalia were falling apart. Sera and Thalia never had much in common, and clashed for their own reasons, which made it all the easier for Sera to blame Thalia for what happened between her and Thom. “She didn’t pick anyone. I drove her away, removed myself from the equation.” 

“And now what? You want her back, don’t you?” 

Thom can’t think of a way to deny it without lying.

“What makes you think it’ll be any different this time?” Sera asks. 

“It will be,” he vows. “I can… make it right. You’ll see.” 

Sera shakes her head. “She’s still Little Miss Stuck-Up, you know. Lady Whatever. One of them, Beardy.” 

“I know. I know.” He and Sera never had so much in common as when they were mocking the aristocracy. It always stuck in her craw, that he might make an exception for Thalia. “She’s not like the others.” 

“You always say that,” Sera says dubiously, “usually right before she proves herself to be exactly like them. She’ll get tired of slumming it.” 

“I appreciate your concern,” Thom says lightly, “but I think only time will tell on that score.” 

“Right.” She grimaces.

“Truce? Or are we going to continue arguing in this bleeding rainstorm until we catch our deaths?”

“Ugh, fine.” Sera throws her arms around him and engulfs him in a soggy hug. He returns it, patting her lightly on the back. 

Into his shoulder, Sera says, “This doesn’t mean I’ll have to be nice to her, does it?” 

“Sera…” 

“Kidding!”

[evilvarric666-archive]

Anders grew up in the circle. He doesn’t know what a bay leaf is. Excessive and unreasonable amounts of sugar such as a weirdly flavoured syrup? That’s ‘was raised in a closed and very controlling community where the food tasted like ass’ energy (I don’t think we have a canon source on the food tasting like ass but the food at the catered accommodation at my university which charges significant amounts of money to stay in doesn’t look edible, so I don’t hold high hopes for fantasy oppression prison funded by the unpaid labour of lobotomised prisoners). Varrics from a merchant family, he knows what spices are and what weird ass spice decisions result in flavours that he likes for some inexplicable reason, and he’s also the sort of man who won’t get a syrup in his coffee because that’s gay (it’s not, varric, but thirsting over men is)

Your take is thought out and well reasoned but ultimately incorrect. Ander's lack of exposure to spices as a youth is why he doesn't know how to use them correctly and it's also Why he uses them at all. He's sticking it to the bland flavorless prison that raised him by purposefully eating things that he never would've had access to were he still inside it, one of life's little rebellions. Also he rifled through someone's spice rack on one of his first escapes just to see and the first bottle be sniffed made him go Oh This Fucks and then he arbitrarily decided that this was going to be his favorite spice for the rest of his life. Anders puts bay leaves in his coffee and Varric is a metrosexual with more money than he knows what to do with and is addicted to the rush of the hyperspecific coffee order+caffeine rush+sugar crash cycle. Varric orders those 18 dollar ventis at starbucks that's a third full from just the flavor shots just to Feel Something. But also ordering shit like this has permanently destroyed his ability to determine what is and is not a normal coffee order so if he's with other people or just randomly feeling self-conscious he'll order a black coffee with a blueberry flavor shot bc he thinks that's a regular guy thing. And even if he did somehow manage to order a normal coffee it would taste terrible to him because he's used to fake sugary frankendrinks so it doesn't even matter. Honestly you're so ignorant like it's barely even funny.

[sinsbymanka]

Presenting my 10k monstrosity written for @thedosianscholar​ for @hightown-funk​!

Don't Make it Hawkeward Words: 10061 Chapters: 3 Rating: Explicit Relationships: Female Hawke/Varric Tethras Additional Tags: 

Summary: Varric likes to think he's the best bullshitter Kirkwall has ever produced, but Hawke knows she can give him a run for his money. When she makes up her mind to convince the Inquisition her and Varric have a secret relationship, it's not like Varric can let her win this little competition. He just didn't count on how quickly things escalate.Smut chapters marked with a * 

Read on AO3

If Varric squints, he can almost pretend they’re back in the Hanged Man where they belong.

Hawke still takes up space the way she always has, too long legs stretched across a whole bench, reclining backwards on one hand while the other lazily waves her shitty hand of cards. She’s still the third worst card player he’s ever met, saved only by Daisy’s refusal to learn the rules and Cole’s inability to stop talking to the face cards.

The sight of her still brings a smile to his face, but there’s a hint of bitterness beneath the joy. Unlike their years in Kirkwall, Varric can’t remember the last time he got a full night of sleep. He’s old, tired, and he sees similar shadows beneath Hawke’s eyes. She’s lost weight, her armor sits just a little looser. When he mentioned it she joked about missing Orana’s cooking, but Varric wonders when the last time she had a decent meal was.

He suspects it was the night before it all went to hell. Fuck, maybe before that. Depends on whether or not any reasonable person counted the Hanged Man’s stew as a decent meal, which he certainly never had.

The door to the Herald’s Rest opens and Varric tears his eyes from Hawke to examine the newest patron. Thankfully, it’s just an Inquisition soldier mopping sweat from his brow and saluting a rowdy table in the back that greets him with cheers.

When he looks back at Hawke, she’s grinning from ear to ear like she’s swallowed a canary whole. “Nervous, Varric?”

“Nothing to be nervous about,” he insists smoothly, watching her discard a card only to replace it with an even worse option. Her nose wrinkles in annoyance and she shakes her head before looking up.

“I haven’t seen you this jumpy since we got back from Chateau Haine.”

He gives her a withering glance over his winning hand. “I was dodging assassins for weeks after Chateau Haine, Hawke.”

“It wasn’t my idea to stop in Val Royeaux,” she sniffs, lips twitching upwards. “For a crossbow-related errand.”

“My errand only caused two assasination attempts,” he points out. “The rest were because you had to impress our Qunari spy friend.”

Hawke’s smirk doesn’t drop for a minute. “You were the one who arranged the invitation, serah.”

“You were the one who gave the pretty elf a list worth a thousand gold for a kiss.”

He summons his grumpiest scowl, but she only beams twice as brightly at the fond memory of her shenanigans. “It was a hell of a kiss, Varric.”

[potatowitch]

yes! my party composition is similar but i'll sometimes switch out for aveline specifically to gain rivalry with her or i'll switch varric out for bela instead. i assume she was in dai, so what were her thoughts on liara lavellan? how did she react to the dai party? and what can you tell us about liara? :D

my friend you are spoiling me here i love you

she was in inquisition! her initial reaction to liara was "dammit varric you could've told me she was CUTE" bc rian is, above all things, a disaster lesbian. they agree a lot, and liara actually snort laughs at rian's terrible jokes, so she's automatically one of rian's favourite people bc of it. liara is also vehemently, violently anti-templar, to a point where rian is almost taken aback by it bc liara is not a mage (it stems from having a mage parent who was murdered by templars, so. y'know) but she's glad for it.

rian's thoughts on the inquisition companions are as follows:

varric my most beloved. love of my life. my soulmate. we were fated to be the best of buddies

cole is weird but i like him. sweet dude. has not told me it is unjust to steal money from the chantry donation boxes yet, so i like him more than the other spirit in my life

solas is weird. in a good way. i think? he is very cute with lavellan and reminds me of an old, cranky merrill

i am going to torment cullen the entire time i am here ehehehehe suck it noodlehead

leliana scares me. i am also very attracted to her

josephine is sweet. i like her

cassandra is unintentionally fucking hilarious lmao. not cool with her locking my best dude up in my own damn estate though, i will forever be salty about that

bull is dope as hell i love this guy

sera is dope as hell i love this girl

dorian is dope as hell i love this guy

something is Up with blackwall. i don't know what it is but something is Up

vivienne is so hot but so scary and she hates me so much

bonus: holy fuck harding is cute. varric are you seeing this shit, she's so cute

rian was uh. left behind in the fade, but i don't really see it as playing out the way it does in game - it wasn't liara's choice, it was rian's. she refused to let anyone else stay behind, she's already got survivor's guilt coming out her ears. alistair wouldn't be staying behind even if he wanted to lmao

liara is. complicated lmao. if rian is purple, and lyna (my warden) leans red, then liara leans blue, but it's very surface-level blue. she cares, she's full of compassion, but she is also full of so, so much hate. she's able to keep it under wraps, and it's very difficult to tell, but she is so incredibly angry under the surface, and it doesn't make itself apparent until trespasser when she loses her shit and everyone except leliana is so taken aback by it.

trespasser is kinda a turning point for her - she stops trying to fight back against how angry and bitter and in pain she is. the world has taken enough from her, it no longer deserves her understanding or her patience or her humility. she is scary post-trespasser, and not just because she leans into the whole "girlfriend of the dread wolf" thing as a power play. think leliana - how in origins she is deeply wounded and hurt, but still idealistic and willing to try, whereas you hit inquisition and she is brutal - that coldness was always there, she just had other things to temper it with, but she can still be pulled back. that's sort of the narrative i lean into with liara - there's hope there still, but she's definitely been hardened.

maybe obi-wan kenobi is a better comparison lmao. you see how many times that man leans dark side, especially in the clone wars series, but ultimately pulls himself back bc despite his feelings he has a definite sense of right vs wrong? yeah. that.

liara also hero-worships anders and justice. she's got a wee bit of a crush on justice specifically, too, and yes varric has pointed out that she doesn't know what he even looks like but he is the embodiment of justice, varric, how could anything be sexier, cmon

[teknicianwrites]

Welcome to DADWC! How about "I’m tired…I’ll nap. Destroy the universe later" for Sera and Inky?

Thanks for the prompt! Here is some Sera/Adaar, with a small side of Adoribull. Had a lot of fun writing team Chaotic Gay. A little fluff, a little h/c.

@dadrunkwriting

Akeelah rolled out from beneath the falling dragon, the leather of her coat nearly catching in the monster's claws as it crashed into the ground. Hot blood sprayed across her vitaar as she let out a wild cry of triumph.

"That's what I'm fucking talking about!" Bull crowed, whooping out a deep laugh that Akeelah joined with a victorious shout to the sky. Bull bounded to her side and grabbed her shoulder. "Boss. Boss. That was incredible. Tell me we're going to do it again. You feel it too, right? It was amazing."

"That was- it- that-" she tried, utterly incapable of finding words in Common or Qunlat to express the absolute feral joy pumping through her veins.

"That was the hottest friggin' thing I've ever seen!" Sera leapt on her back, nearly making Akeelah overbalance as legs wrapped around her waist and hands gripped her shoulders. Bull steadied her with a knowing grin before stepping back to give them space. Sera gave a light tug at her horns, and Akeelah ignored the pulse of pain from the bruises she'd earned when she'd been too slow with a fade step. "Get that shit off your face so I can kiss you," Sera murmured in her ear.

"Yes, ma'am." Akeelah let Sera pull her head back, shivering at the command and the hungry look in Sera's eyes. She righted herself to search through the pack at her hip and pulled out a clean rag she soaked from her canteen.

Cleaning the poison from her face took an eternity as Sera whispered suggestions of all the things she wanted to do once they were alone at camp. Akeelah whined when Sera proposed sending the others back ahead of them and not waiting for a tent, and firmly reminded herself that Sera would not appreciate surprise hallucinations if she wasn't thorough and kissed her with deathroot on her lips.

"Savages, the lot of you," Dorian called as he picked his way carefully out of the treeline, regarding their display with amusement. Sera broke her litany of lurid fantasies to stick her tongue out at him, and Akeelah used the reprieve to dry her face with a clean cloth, satisfied when it came away with no lingering traces of vitaar.

Bull grinned and strode to Dorian, tugging him by the belt and resting a hand on his ass. "You love it."

"Hm, hardly," Dorian sniffed. Akeelah smiled when he rolled his eyes fondly as Bull pulled him closer. "Ah, no, Sera is quite right. Paint comes off before you get your mouth near me," he tutted, a firm hand to Bull's pauldron. Bull moved in a playful threat like he might try anyway, and chuckled as Dorian slipped free from his grasp.

It made Akeelah feel warm, watching them. She still wanted to beat Halward's face in for the shame he'd instilled in his son. It had taken long months before Dorian had stopped tensing anytime Bull expressed his affection publicly, and though Dorian was still cautious in unfamiliar company, it was gratifying that he felt comfortable around her.

Sera broke her train of thought when she swung around to Akeelah's front and pulled her in for a desperate kiss. Akeelah moaned into her mouth, tasting the bittersweet hint of elfroot that lingered on her lips. Sera gripped her horns for purchase and Akeelah winced.

She broke from the kiss, giving Sera a reassuring smile at her confusion. Normally Akeelah enjoyed Sera's fascination with her horns, which Sera had quickly learned to take advantage of. She tilted her head to the side so Sera could see the bruising above her ear and gently repositioned Sera's hands to her neck.

"You're getting quite skilled with that sword, dear Herald," Dorian said conversationally. Sera made a grumpy sound against her jaw when she turned to him to grimace at the title. He smiled winningly at the reaction to his teasing. Any other man might have looked awkward, standing in a clearing watching two women tangle together shamelessly while waiting for his own lover to finish washing up, but Dorian stood regal as ever. "Soon you'll be giving our Madame de Fer a run for her money."

Sera looked up from where she'd moved to Akeelah's throat. "Oh, piss on Vivvy," she sneered. "Coryphenus better be shaking in his knickers, Buckles can take the whole friggin' world."

Akeelah's vision swam as Sera's animated gestures moved too fast for her eyes to follow. She blinked, trying to focus, and gripped Sera tighter to keep her from falling as she completely let go of her neck to make rude gestures at an imaginary Vivienne.

"Aiming too low there, Sera," a deep voice said from behind her. Akeelah jumped, heart racing at finding a Qunari at her side… but it was Bull. Of course it was Bull. She knew Bull. Bull was her friend. Bull was safe. "With us at her side, I think she can take the universe."

"And destroy it as she does so, with you two at her back," Dorian quipped, twirling his staff lazily. It made Akeelah's stomach turn as it spun, sparking with idle lightning.

Akeelah didn't understand whatever Sera said back. It was too loud, right in her ear. She tried to step back, but Sera came with her. That's right. Sera was wrapped around her. Can't step away. Gotta put her down.

She glanced around for a spot free of dragon blood, and the sunlight glinting off the creature's scales hit her like daggers through her eyes. She snapped them shut and tried to breathe.

Everything was so bright. Everything was so loud. Everything was too much. It all made her dizzy. It was exhausting. She was exhausted.

"I’m tired," she whispered, trying to remember what they were talking about. "I'll nap. Destroy the universe later."

Hands suddenly gripped her coat tight. "Buckles? Hey, woah, Buckles!"

She whined at the voice and opened her eyes. Things looked different. Sera was taller than her. How had that happened?

Oh. Because she was kneeling. She remembered wanting to sit down. She wondered if she'd done it on purpose.

"Boss, you ok?" Bull crouched next to Sera in front of her, his good eye looking at her in concern.

Akeelah tensed at the Ben Hassrath being so close. She felt behind for her staff, panic mounting when she couldn't find it. How did she end up unarmed this close to him?

"M'fine," she lied, fighting back dizziness, unwilling to show weakness to a Qunari.

No. Not Qunari. Not Ben Hassrath. Tal Vashoth. Bull was Tal Vashoth. Why did she keep forgetting? She was fine. She was safe. "Sleepy," she slurred, lowering herself gracelessly into the grass.

"No, no, no, none of that." Warm hands were on her face and she whined when fingertips pulled her eyelids open. Dorian gazed intently into her eyes. "Well, hopefully the universe doesn't hit as hard as a dragon's tail. I do believe our Inquisitor has a concussion."

"Well, fix it!" Sera shouted. Why was she shouting? Shouting made her stomach turn. Akeelah tried to shush her and was ignored. "Wave your magic fingers or whatever and get rid of the concoction!"

Dorian snorted and cupped her cheeks. Warm hands got warmer, and she sighed contentedly at the feeling of his magic against her scalp.

Sera dropped to her knees and stared intently at Akeelah's face, ears twitching as Dorian's fingers prodded gently along her skull. She looked scared. Akeelah didn't want her to be scared.

"You make the best concoctions," Akeelah told her, brushing uneven golden hair from her eyes. "I like it when you throw bees."

Sera's face softened and she caught Akeelah's hand to press a kiss into her palm. "Hey, you're cute like this and all, but you're freaking me out," she said into her skin. "Come on, Dorian, do something!"

"Sera, this thing I'm doing right now?" he asked through gritted teeth. "This is me doing something. I am 'waving my magic fingers' as we speak. Head trauma is not my specialty."

Sera looked ready to yell at him. Akeelah pressed her hand more firmly on Sera's mouth to stop her. "Shhh. Head hurts. Quiet is nice."

Sera bit her lip and resumed her silent vigil, gripping her hand tight. Bull squeezed her shoulder. "It's ok, Sera. Concussions aren't that bad. I've had dozens."

"That explains so much about you," Dorian muttered as his fingers prodded near her left horn. Akeelah winced and he focused his magic there.

Something eased in her head, relieving a pounding tightness she hadn't fully processed until it was eased back. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

Gradually the pain faded to slight pressure. Nausea and dizziness receded, and when she opened her eyes the light no longer felt like an enemy combatant. She let out a breath of relief.

"Ok, I've done what I can," Dorian announced after a last sweep around her head. He stood, brushing leaves and dirt from his knees. "Varric's friend should still be at Skyhold, yes? We'll have him take a look at her when we get back, but I think she'll be fine."

"What do you mean, you think?" Sera demanded as Bull helped Akeelah to her feet.

"I'm a necromancer, not a spirit healer," Dorian explained impatiently. "I'll be of more use after she's dead."

Sera whirled on him, murder in her eyes, and Bull stepped between them.

"She's not going to die, Sera," he placated. "He's being facetious."

Sera halted her advance as her face scrunched in confusion. "There's fish?"

Bull chuckled, and Akeelah was gratified the deep rumble didn't set her ears ringing. "He thinks he's cute."

"Well, it's not! Her maybe dying isn't friggin' cute!" Sera glared at Dorian, who raised his arms in apology or surrender. Akeelah gently pulled her back against her chest.

"You're cute," she told her, kissing her hair. "The cutest. Prettiest woman I know."

Tension melted out of Sera as she leaned into her. "... you're not too bad yourself," she said, turning to wrap Akeelah's waist in a fierce hug. "Don't you die on me, yeah? I'll be real mad if you die on me," she mumbled into her shirt.

Akeelah smiled and bent to give her a proper kiss. "Ok. I won't. I promise. Still got the universe to fight, remember?"

Sera giggled and pulled back, quickly wiping at her eyes. "I'll hold you to that."

"I would advise not holding her horns until Hawke looks at her," Dorian called over. "She still has a head wound. Don't undo all my hard work in a fit of passion."

Akeelah grinned when color rose to Dorian's cheeks as Bull whispered something in his ear. She would put all her money on it being filthy and related to his own affinity for horns, judging by the flustered way Dorian smoothed out his tunic.

She smiled down at Sera and was surprised to see she looked stricken. "What's wrong?"

"I made you worse," Sera told the ground. "You were fine and then I just started grabbing your horns after you got hit in the head and then you fell-"

"Hey, no." Akeelah tilted her chin up and Sera met her gaze reluctantly. "I thought I was fine too. Now we know. No horns after a dragon to the face."

Sera huffed, the corner of her mouth quirking. Akeelah kissed her twitching lips until they stopped fighting to frown. She caressed her cheeks, and Sera grabbed her coat, and Dorian cleared his throat.

"I do hate to interrupt a good time, but I'm not comfortable leaving you behind until you've seen a proper healer, so unless you have a thing for exhibitionism…"

"Spoilsport," Bull laughed. "I wanted to see how long it took them to remember we're here."

Sera made a face. "Pfft, fine. Let's head back to camp," she said grumpily. Akeelah took her hand and Sera squeezed it as they started walking.

Bull put an arm over Dorian's shoulders and pulled him in; Dorian sighed and allowed it. "Come on, the sooner we get back, the sooner we can celebrate. And we've all got a lot of celebrating to do."

[queenofbaws]

well hello again friends! happy wednesday! (IT’S STILL WEDNESDAY! IT STILL COUNTS!) i got tagged by the ever wonderful @mrs-theirin​ and since y’all are probably going to be getting a little radio silence from me for a bit as i contend with some family stuff, i figured i could share a tiny peek of something that’s been on my mind a LOT lately, but probably won’t get posted for a good long while yet...

a - gasp - modern day dragon age au where varric makes the mistake of telling hawke he’s written a romance serial ;P (under the cut for length because fuck it, it’s not gonna be seeing the light of day for a grip lol)

Hawke hummed in that soft way she did after finding something especially amusing, then continued on. “And while I’m nowhere near done, I do have to say, Varric, I am positively titillated!”

He let out a long, agonized sigh through his nose. That was not a word that filled him with confidence. “Hawke.”

“Mhm?”

“I’m…thrilled you’re having fun tormenting me like this—” she didn’t laugh at that, but she didn’t precisely not laugh, either, “—but I was actually trying to ask, uh…how far you’ve gotten. And, tangentially related to that first question, whether or not there is any amount of money I could pay you to stop on whatever page you happen to be on right now.”

She drew in a gasp so obviously feigned that it almost more resembled a squeal of delight. “Varric! It sounds to me as though you might be embarrassed of something in here…perhaps even downright ashamed!”

“The whole book, Hawke. The whole series, really, but let’s start with the book.”

Again that hum. “Oh, but whatever could you be embarrassed of? I did so enjoy the whole part about the royal tourney…”

Okay. Okay, he could deal with that. Nothing too rough in there.

“…and the feast, of course…”

Getting a little closer to dangerous territory, but…still, nothing too bad. Lots of heaving bosom talk, sure, but nothing much past that.

“…oh, and that rescue in the dead of night? Bracing! Innovative! Masterful, even!”

Well.

Shit.

“But my favorite part—so far, at least—”

“Hawke.”

“—well, I think it would have to be…”

“Hawke, please. You’re killing me. You are literally killing me.”

“Here, I’ll just read a few lines, I’m no great shakes at summaries.”

“There is a knife in my chest, Hawke. You put it there. And now you’re turning it. My life is flashing before my eyes and I am dying, and you are the one murdering me. Are you taking joy in that? Are you enjoying the act of killing me like this? Are you reveling in it?”

[thessalian]

Molly!Rook vs Bullshit Ritual The First

Scene: a bar in Minrathous. Molly Aldwir, Rook to practically everybody, is in a bar, having literally yeeted somebody out of it. Somehow.

Molly!Rook: So ... look, obviously you have a thing going with the Ventaori here, given ... you know ... these guys...

Bartender: Also they gave me money to betray your friend.

Molly!Rook: No, see, we can work with that. Because you have that money whether you betray them by telling me where they are or not, and if you tell me, you get to walk away and spend that money on buying yourself something nice, not ... you know, replacing furniture, scrubbing blood off the floors, picking spleens off the ceiling--

Bartender: ...Spleens on the--?!?

Molly!Rook: Sometimes shit goes boom. It's a thing.

Bartender: You're adorable. Disturbing, but adorable. Try Dumat Plaza.

Molly!Rook: You sent a murder-party to silence someone in a plaza dedicated to your actual god of silence. *golf clap* Bravo. Poetic.

Bartender: These guys are going to kill you anyway, though.

Varric: *appears in doorway, shooting*

Molly!Rook: Or they could opt to not spend the rest of their lives as a colander.

Venatori: *flee*

Varric: A colander?

Molly!Rook: You got a better way of telling people they could end up full of holes, I'd love to hear it.

Varric: Actually, I'm just pissed I didn't think of that one myself.

A little later, after an apparently much-needed drink

Creepy Public Address System Voice: HALT!

Varric: Well, shit.

Molly!Rook: Either I didn't leave anyone who got a look at me conscious, or that's nothing to do with our little bar brawl.

Varric: Our little bar brawl?!?

Molly!Rook: You shot the place full of arrows--!

Veil: *starts developing tears*

Varric: Weeeeeeell, shit.

Molly!Rook: The colander metaphor's looking more appropriate by the minute.

After a run through the streets of Minrathous, we meet...

Harding: You guys okay?

Molly!Rook: Oh, sure. Going to have such a fun postcard to write to Strife. "Hey, former-boss; you thought I was running from the consequences of how I valued lives over legacy? I get to value lives over magical shit again now! More detailed report when I'm not busy saving the world! ...Love and kisses, Molly".

Harding: ..."love and"--?

Molly!Rook: I just write shit like that to keep him on his toes.

Varric: Dumat Plaza! Neve Gallus in trouble! Moving now, please!

Moving: *happens*

Neve Gallus: *is the opposite of in-trouble*

Molly!Rook: Wow. You make enemies like a pro.

Neve: Thanks. ...I think. Just ... Varric, you told me one mage. The power this spell's outputting can't even be matched by a dozen.

Varric: Ancient. Elven. God.

Neve: You mean you weren't exaggerating?

Varric: When have I ever exaggerated?!?

Harding: The Tale of the Champion of Kirkwall.

Molly!Rook: Your entire Hard in Hightown series.

Harding: Your confrontation with your brother.

Molly!Rook: The perils of drinking dwarven ale.

Harding: Cassandra's reaction to your romance serial.

Molly!Rook; Harding: Every time you breathe.

Varric: ...I didn't exaggerate about the Seeker that much...

Neve: Giant magic ritual happening, apparently tearing the Veil asunder, making a mess of my city. Dwarf will fix, yes?

Molly!Rook: Sorry, we're going. In my defense, though, Varric was the one who thought we had time to stop for a pint after I charmed the bartender.

Neve: You what?!?

Varric: No time. Moving now! ...Thanks for that, Rook.

And into Solas' Minrathous base, which...

Molly!Rook: Shiiiiiiny equipment!

Neve: I thought you named her for the chess piece. I'm seeing it as more for the corvid - all the picking up shiny objects.

Harding: Actually, that's a myth.

Neve: So is the Dread Wolf. Your point?

Molly!Rook: Okay, never seen a functioning eluvian before...

Harding; Varric: Wait WUT.

And through the eluvian into...

Molly!Rook; Harding: Arlathan Forest?!?

Neve: I'll ... take your word for it. I'm more concerned about that.

'That': *is a big fuck-off ritual*

Varric: Okay, we hack through these demons, then I try to talk him down.

Harding: He's not going to stop just because an old friend asked nicely!

Molly!Rook: I mean, if he'd really 100% wanted not to be stopped, don't think he'd have left the eluvian open behind him.

Varric: I like the way you think.

Neve: It does have logic, I'll give it that.

Harding: *sigh* Fine, but when that doesn't work, I get to snipe him.

Later...

Harding: He's trashed Bianca, he's still doing whatever stupid nugshit he's doing - can I shoot him now?

Neve: Meant to mention about that - elven god. Don't think those get taken down by single arrows very often. That's if the arrow didn't get destroyed by raw magic on the way.

Harding: Well, we have to do something!

Molly!Rook: Welp, not the first time I've wrecked shit up to save some lives; let's hope it's not the last!

Harding: You're not going alone!

Neve: I'm a mage; I'll go.

Molly!Rook: She's a dwarf. Having someone a bit immune to magic might be nice in there!

Neve: Oh. Fair enough. I'll just ... keep killing demons, then.

Harding: Okay, so now that we're out of earshot, what are we going to do really?

Molly!Rook: Look, sometimes a Veil Jumper uses intricate magic to get something working properly again ... or turn it off ... or whatever. And sometimes? *jams staff into scaffolding* Sometimes you just have to wreck shit up. *yanks on makeshift lever*

Harding: *helps*

Everything: *goes immediately to shit*

Somewhere in the Fade, sometime later:

Solas: Do you have any idea what you just did?

Molly!Rook: I mean ... kinda came out of that with a concussion and worry about how bad you hurt Varric, but mostly I figure, "Stopped your plan".

Solas: Varric ... seems to keep befriending the weirdos.

Molly!Rook: Well, there's a wolf-god he used to hang out with once--

Solas: On that subject, I'm sure you're entirely clear on what you've unleashed on the world, what with your ... oh, whole minutes of experience with those Veil Jumpers--

Molly!Rook: Last I checked, we didn't add "god of sarcasm" to your titles, Fen'harel.

Solas: Look, I decided to use what little blood you left for the blood magic I hate because I wanted you to know that you unleashed two of my former fellows and they're worse than me. That is your problem now.

Molly!Rook: Eh, how bad can it be?

And, on waking

Varric: *is wrecked up pretty bad*

Harding: *is wrecked up not as bad*

Molly!Rook: This ... is not my tent.

Harding: Yeah ... we're in the Fade.

Molly!Rook: ...And we're here physically. Which ... has implications. Especially since you are a dwarf.

Harding: Tell me about it. Or ... maybe ask Neve about it becuase maybe you mages can figure it out while I'm still sore enough not to freak out about it.

Molly!Rook: *exiting, stage WTF* You know, I always kind of wanted some kind of actual real estate, but this is not what I meant!