#dennis writes

[sky-fire-forever]

❛ you don't have to go through this alone. i'm here for you. ❜ for Justice/Anders?

Thank you for the prompt! For @dadrunkwriting

My new Dragon Age sideblog is @freedomspromise

There is much about the mortal realm that confuses Justice and much that delights him. There's always so much to see, so much to do, and everything simply is the way that it is until it changes. There is so much to experience within the mortal world. Things like love, heartache, and hope.

He loves it. Which is why he must change it.

The mages kept under lock and key do not get to experience this realm and all it has to offer. They are cut off from the world and its beauty, made to know only muted greys when most others are exposed to a rainbow. It's unfair. It's unjust.

So Justice will change it. He will burn down the structures that hold these mages back so they can step into the light of a new day. He will allow those kept from the world to enjoy the gifts it has to offer them, even if it means he will no longer get to live in the realm he's come to call home.

He doesn't know what will happen to him once his work is done. Perhaps he will simply return to the Fade the way he is now or perhaps he will be reborn something new. Or maybe he'll cease to exist altogether and there will be nothing of him that remains.

It frightens him: the unknown. Now that he's gotten the chance to live, he finds that he doesn't want to die.

"How do you think I feel?" Anders pulls Justice from his thoughts. He hadn't realized that he'd been thinking them so loudly.

"You are mortal. You were always meant to die," Justice knows that doesn't make the thought any easier, however.

Anders chuckles, but there's no humor in it. "I suppose you're right about that."

A wave of melancholy washes over them as Anders tidies up the clinic. It's near spotless now, but Anders always preferred having something to do with his hands. He carefully takes down the herbs that he'd left to dry and sorts them into different drawers, his mind drifting as he works in a way that he's practiced a million times before.

"Do you think you'll miss it?" he asks and Justice doesn't have to question what he means.

"If I'm able to miss anything, I will miss this world."

Anders nods. "Yes. Yes, I think I will too."

"I will miss you as well."

Anders' hands pause in their sorting and Justice can feel his trepidation. There's uncertainty in his mind, a sliver of doubt. It takes a moment before Justice realizes that it's not coming from Anders at all, but rather himself.

"I will miss you, Anders, if I am able to miss anything at all." Justice hesitates. "It is a shame that you must sacrifice yourself for my cause."

"Our cause," Anders corrects, his voice quiet but firm. "You don't have to go through this alone. I'm here for you."

He resumes his sorting, a quiet acceptance to him now. Justice can feel his determination, his steadfast resolve.

Justice chose the right host.

Anders finishes his task and leans back in his chair. "You're my friend," he reminds the spirit. "No matter what happens, we're in this together."

Friendship doesn't even begin to describe what Anders and Justice are to one another. They are a part of each other, both literally and figuratively. Both of their lives have been changed because of the other and Justice finds that he doesn't regret what he's become in the slightest. Together, they can do what alone they could not.

"We will face the unknown together, then."

"Together." Anders wraps his right hand around his left wrist and squeezes so that Justice can feel it.

Together, they face what comes next.

[sky-fire-forever]

Its DADWC day :D For Justice and Anders may I suggest: Do you think we’ll see tomorrow? (Angst Dialogue Prompts)

Thank you for this prompt! For @dadrunkwriting

Also my new Dragon Age blog is @freedomspromise

Warning for kind suicidal thoughts?

A random assortment of objects litter the floor of the clinic: papers, herbs, treasured belongings. As Anders carefully packs the useful things into boxes, he wonders if anyone will even return to fetch them. It's highly likely that all he's carefully labeled and sorted will be tossed into the garbage if not outright destroyed or forgotten about, left to gather dust in this old clinic that Anders has poured his life into.

"We can pass on the the herbs and potions to Lirene before our job is done," Justice suggests from within Anders' mind. "She will find use for them."

Anders hopes that Justice is right, that everything won't go to waste. It'd be a shame for so much that could ease people's suffering to be discarded just because of what Anders plans to do. There's still a chance for Anders to help people, even once he's gone.

The sun is rising by the time Anders finishes packing everything up. A part of him wants to leave the clinic, wants to walk up so he can see the sunrise over the water. Possibly his last sunrise.

He thinks of Hawke, of how he should be curled up in their bed right now, with their strong arms wrapped around him. He thinks of how they'd whine and beg him not to get up and leave their shared bed cold, how they'd cling to him tighter the moment he tried to move.

It brings a small, sad smile to his lips as he imagines it. Hawke loves him. He's certain of that now, even if he's been plagued with doubt over it for years.

It makes what he's going to do all the more cruel.

He sighs as he stacks the boxes for Lirene in a neat pile, his mind running wild. Hawke will surely never forgive him for what he's about to do and he deserves no forgiveness. He deserves to die for his crimes, of that he's certain. His death will bring justice for those he kills in his mad attempt at vengeance.

Once the boxes are cleared away, he takes a seat at his desk. He imagines a world where Hawke doesn't repay his destruction with death, where they forgive him, where they get to be together. It's a nice thought, a beautiful thought.

"Do you think we'll see tomorrow?" He asks aloud, living in the possibility of a future for just a moment.

Justice is silent for a long moment before replying, "No. And we will not deserve it."

Anders knows he's right. He closes his eyes and rests his head against his desk, taking a few steadying breaths. He knows that this is what they have to do, but that doesn't make it any easier. He can accept his own death, can even accept it at the hands of the person he loves, but the knowledge of the pain he's going to cause Hawke and Varric and the rest of his friends stings him to his very core.

"There is still time to see the sunrise."

Anders lifts his head up and smiles. Justice has always loved the sunrise, has loved the mortal world for its beauty and life. He finds comfort in bringing about a world where others can enjoy the spender the universe has to offer. Mages will be free from their prisons and will be able to see the sunrise without Templars obscuring the view.

Let them enjoy one last sunrise together. Spirit and man. Let them take in the sight of their final dawning of a new day. Because soon, everything will change.

[sky-fire-forever]

hi hi, happy friday! isabela/hawke and a coy, chaste kiss meant to say thank you. from the kiss & tell prompt list?

Thank you for the prompt! For @dadrunkwriting

My new Dragon Age blog is @freedomspromise

My Hawke in this is Kios Hawke, who uses they/them pronouns.

The battle with the Arishok was a terrible thing to witness. Isabela could do nothing but watch as Hawke ran around the room like a madman, hair falling out their duel buns as they fired arrow after arrow at the qunari chasing them. At one point, he had his blade plunged through their body, holding them up like a kebab. Isabela had turned away then, unable to watch Hawke die, and die for her.

But Hawke hadn't died and now it's over. They'd raised their bow defiantly and shot him point blank through the eye even as he held them up. They'd won.

Anders is doing his best to heal them, but there's sweat on his brow as he chugs lyrium potion after lyrium potion, desperately putting his all into keeping his friend alive. Isabela watches with tears in her eyes that she refuses to allow to fall.

"Why did you do that? You stupid idiot." She kneels beside Hawke's head, making sure to give Anders enough room to work.

Hawke looks up at her and struggles for a moment to focus their eyes on her face. "What was I supposed to do?" they ask through gritted teeth. "I couldn't let them take you."

"You could have," Isabela argues, her heart thundering inside of her chest. "But I'm glad you didn't."

What does it mean that Hawke had risked everything just to save her life? Her life isn't worth much, not when compared to the safety of the entire city. But Hawke apparently sees something in her worth protecting. Worth saving. It's enough to make her head spin.

In a moment of pure impulse, she presses her lips to Hawke's. It's a chaste thing, with no tongue or even a parting of lips. It's just a gentle press of lips against lips, so unlike the downright dirty kisses they've shared in the past.

"What's that for?" Hawke murmurs as Isabela pulls away.

"Thank you." Isabela squeezes their hand tightly, a few tears slipping down her cheeks.

It isn't enough, but she can't think of what else to say. So she kisses them again and hope it says all that she can't.

[sky-fire-forever]

Happy Friday! I've got a nasty little prompt for you today, or maybe not nasty! Up to you! But "You don't want anyone to find out, do you?" For Carver/Hawke?

Thank you for the prompt! This is short, but I didn't know how to continue it. For @dadrunkwriting

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

Content Warnings: Underage, Incest

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

When Carver slips into Wysteria's bed late at night, she's expecting it. Their father is gone on a trip with Bethany, leaving Carver and Wysteria alone at the house with their mother. Wysteria wishes she didn't know why her father took Bethany and no one else, but she does. Of course she does.

Carver is sixteen years old and he kisses like he's desperate for it, like he needs Wysteria's lips to survive. He breathes her in, muttering soft reassurances against the freckled flesh of her neck even as he sucks and bites hard enough to hurt. She'll have to wear high collars for the next little while.

At a particularly sharp bite, Wysteria lets out a gasp. Carver shushes her softly.

"Shh. You don't want anyone to find out, do you?" Carver murmurs and she knows what he means. Their mother is asleep in the other room and too much noise could wake her, leading to the discovery of two of her children in such a compromising position.

Wysteria shakes her head and bites her lip, imagining the scandalized look on their mother's face if she caught them like this. She'd cry and scream and demand to know how this all began, but Wysteria wouldn't be able to answer. All she knows is that she'd do anything for her little brother.

Even this. Especially this.

[sky-fire-forever]

hello! how about "you're safe here with me." with fenris/hawke?

Thank you for this prompt! I struggle with writing Fenris sometimes, but I like the way he's characterized in this. My Hawke in this is Scorpius, who uses they/them pronouns and is in a polyamorous relationship with both Fenris and Anders.

For @dadrunkwriting

Danarius is dead. Fenris killed him with the abilities Danarius himself gave him. He phased his hand through the magister's chest, took his heart within his fingers, and squeezed. Again and again and again until the man laid dead at his feet.

So why does Fenris still feel fear? Why does he find himself looking over his shoulder when he tucks in for the night, his ears twitching at every creak and crack of his mansion settling? Why does he still have nightmares about his former master taking him back, dragging him to Tevinter and wiping his memory to make him forget his life of freedom?

It's unsettling, to say the least — this fear that knows no purpose. Fenris has to keep reminding himself that he is free, that no one is going to take him back, but he struggles to believe it even as he remembers the feeling of Danarius' blood going cold against his skin.

He tosses and turns in the night before giving up on sleep altogether. Instead, he slides from his bed and dresses himself in something more practical than his sleepwear. He's restless, an anxious buzzing beneath his skin that isn't just from the lyrium, so he's made up his mind to do something about it rather than try to chase an ever elusive promise of sleep.

Originally, he has no idea where he's planning on going or what he intends to do until he finds his feet carrying him to Hawke's estate without any conscious input from him. He stands outside the large doors and hesitates, not knowing the time. It's certainly the middle of the night, judging by the position of the stars and the moon, so it's very possible that Hawke will be asleep if he were to knock.

Asleep next to Anders, an ugly voice in the back of Fenris' mind reminds him. The two of them are likely curled up together in comfort, taking pleasure in the simple intimacies domestic life affords to them. Pleasures that Fenris still struggles with accepting, no matter how desperately he may wish them for himself.

It isn't that Hawke purposefully scorns him or places their love for Anders above their love for Fenris — in fact, Hawke offered Fenris a place in their home a long while ago — but Fenris is still new to accepting love, to not allowing it to overwhelm him. He'd declined their invitation to move in with them and simply visits often. Sometimes he regrets that decision, but he never voices it.

As he stands on Hawke's doorstep, he is at war with himself. A part of him wants to turn around and leave, to return to his empty mansion full of traps and corpses so he can deal with his confusing feelings on his own. Another part of him yearns for Hawke's touch, their reassurance, the reminder that he is not alone in this.

Despite himself, he raises his fist and raps on the door.

He waits for several moments, almost turning to leave, when he stops at the sound of footsteps. He turns back to the door and watches it open to reveal a familiar dwarf with a wide smile.

"Ah, Master Fenris!" Bodahn greets far too enthusiastically for this late at night. "Come in, come in."

Fenris awkwardly steps into the building and looks around the foyer. "Is Hawke awake?" he asks, feeling foolish for entering before asking. If Hawke is asleep, he'll turn around and walk back out in embarrassment.

"Oh, yes." Bodahn smiles. "They're just reading by the fire, I believe." He gestures to the living room, which Fenris now notices is emanating a soft, warm light.

Fenris nods. "Thank you, Bodahn," he says before making his way towards the light.

Hawke has their nose buried in a book — though, book might be a bit much to describe what Fenris sees, it's more of a bundle of papers haphazardly tied together with string — but they look up at Fenris' arrival and lights up. "Fenris!"

"Hawke."

"What brings you to my humble abode?" they ask, tossing the pile of papers to the side before stretching out in their chair.

Any words he might have had die on Fenris' lips as he watches Hawke's shirt ride up, exposing their hairy stomach and the happy trail that dips into their pants. "I, uh—" Hawke looks back at him and smirks, knowing exactly what they're doing.

Fenris clears his throat. "Danarius is dead," he says as though saying the words will make them feel more believable. He licks his lips before pushing forward. "He is dead and yet he continues to haunt me."

The smirk disappears from Hawke's lips. "Oh, love…" They get up from their chair and approach Fenris. "May I touch you?"

Fenris sometimes forgets this aspect of Hawke, that they are gentle with him despite the fact that they've witnessed him killing countless people. He nods and feels their strong arms surround him, pulling him close. He takes a shuddering breath and returns the embrace, burying his face in Hawke's neck to inhale their scent.

"I fear he will take me back," he admits quietly. "Even though he is gone, I still see him in my nightmares. When does this feeling go away?"

"I don't know if it ever will." Hawke's grip on him tightens. "But I'd never let anyone take you. You're safe here with me."

And Fenris, for all his doubt and fears, believes them.

[sky-fire-forever]

happy dadwc friday, sending you ❝ so how goes wilful disobedience of late? ❞ for eluvia and whoever else you like

Thank you so much for the prompt! I went with Eluvia and Anders during their time in the Circle for this one.

For @dadrunkwriting

The apprentices are abuzz with talk. They say Anders escaped again, that he almost didn't get caught this time. He was missing for three weeks before the Templars brought him back in chains, bleeding from their rough treatment of him.

It was necessary, though. If he hadn't run, the Templars wouldn't have had to chase after him and wouldn't have had to use force to get him wrangled. If he would just accept the way things are instead of constantly fighting and struggling, things would be much easier on him.

Eluvia knows that things would be easier if Anders just behaved himself. She's seen what happens to unruly mages and it's never pretty. He's not even an apprentice anymore and he should know better. He's too old to be acting like such a child.

She's in the library when she spots him. He looks innocent enough, scribbling away on a piece of parchment with his tongue slightly sticking out. He looks focused, absorbed in his work. Eluvia wonders if that's all an act and if he actually cares about anything besides his own freedom.

She's never actually spoken to the notorious runaway before, but she's seen him around. Of course she has, everyone sees everyone within the Circle, but that doesn't mean she wants anything to do with him. He's nothing but trouble and she knows it. Besides, he's older than her and isn't an apprentice. There's not many opportunities for them to speak.

He must catch her staring because he looks up and raises an eyebrow at her, his amber eyes sparkling. She quickly diverts her gaze and hurries off to collect the required reading material for her studies. She isn't quick enough because Anders leaps out of his seat to chase her down.

"You're Amell, right? Irving's favorite apprentice?" He leans against the bookshelf as he gazes down at her, a grin playing across his face.

Eluvia looks behind herself, as though there might be another Amell he could be referring to. Much to her dismay, there's no one there, but she does catch one of the enchanters looking at her. She feels her face flush — why is Anders talking to her? She doesn't want to be seen with him, lest someone think she's a troublemaker too.

"Uh. That's me," she says as she turns back to face him.

"I'm Anders." He sticks out his hand for her to shake and she's certain this must be a trick of some kind.

"I know." She doesn't take it. She turns away from him to search for the book she needs.

Anders doesn't appear bothered in the least. "So, how goes being a teacher's pet?" He asks cheekily, delight playing in his eyes.

Ah, there it is. Anders has come to tease her, to mock her for her choices. Well, she isn't having it.

"So, how goes wilful disobedience of late?" she snaps back. "Last I heard, you got your nose broken after your last escape attempt."

Anders' expression falters for just a moment before he shrugs, the grin returning. "It healed up all right. Good as new." He taps the tip of his nose as if to prove it. "I'm a spirit healer, you know."

Eluvia's eyes widen. To be a spirit healer requires a great deal of training and precision. It means summoning spirits from beyond the Veil and not attracting any demons who seek the other side. Anders doesn't seem the type to be able to accomplish it.

She scoffs and looks back at the shelf, scanning the titles for the one she seeks. "No, you're not."

Anders laughs. "You don't think I'm capable?"

"I really don't," Eluvia confirms as she reaches out to take a book off the shelf. It's not the one she's looking for, but that doesn't matter. She just needs an excuse to get away from Anders so everyone stops staring.

"I'm hurt. Truly." He places a hand over his heart. She ignores him and turns to walk away, but not before he calls out, "If you're ever looking for any pointers on spirit healing, you know where to look."

She never intends to ask him anything about anything.

[sky-fire-forever]

DADWC time :D How does ❛  i know things aren't easy right now, but i want to remain a fixture in your life. after all, you're one in mine.  ❜ for Rook/Lucanis sound?? Obsessed about this pairing rn!

Thank you for the prompt! I tried something new with this, with it being from the point of view of someone outside of the pairing I’m writing it for. You can be the judge of how it turned out.

For @dadrunkwriting - Dragon Age: The Veilguard Spoilers

My Rook in this is Voltah de Riva, who uses they/them pronouns.

Caterina does not believe herself to be an unkind woman. Strict, perhaps, but it’s out of necessity. Everything she’s done has been for the good of her family, for the betterment of those who have survived. She’s lost too much to go soft now and lose it all. 

Part of wanting the best for her family is wanting the best partners for those who remain. Lucanis is the First Talon now and if he is to wed, he deserves the best, someone who will support him and who can fend for themselves if things turn sour. He deserves someone who will protect their standing and can provide heirs to house Dellamorte. 

What he doesn’t need is a Crow from another house grasping at power and encouraging dangerous ideas. 

“I fail to see the problem,” Lucanis says, his voice tight with irritation he can hardly contain. “Rook has done more than prove themself. They not only saved the world, but they helped put an end to Ilario’s misdeeds, they helped save you and they stopped a ravaging dragon from destroying Treviso. What more could you ask from them?” 

Caterina leans against her cane, a frown upon her lips. “Surely you can not be so blind, Lucanis.” It hurts her to break her grandson’s heart this way, but it’s far better than the alternative. “The de Rivas want the title of First Talon. You are standing in the way of that. All it would take would be your death and then–”

“Rook would never.” Lucanis sounds offended by the very idea. “They could not care less about my title. Their interest in me long predated my appointment as First Talon and I have no doubt that they would continue to love me if I were to lose that title entirely.” 

“You must be practical,” Caterina insists. “This is Viago’s protege. Do you not think he has trained them well? To manipulate and deceive?” 

“No more than any other Crow.” 

“But they are a Crow,” Caterina reminds him. “A Crow of a lesser standing who stands to win much by building a relationship with you. That is not even to speak of the way they encourage that thing inside of you.”

“Don’t bring Spite into this,” Lucanis warns.

“It is a demon, Lucanis. One that we should be focused on removing as soon as possible.” 

“As I have told you before, there is no separating us now.”

“Do you know that? Or are you simply unwilling to try?” She presses. “Because Rook told you not to bother trying?”

The idea of a demon remaining permanently within her grandson is terrifying in its possibility. It’s even more frightening that Lucanis doesn’t seem the least bit concerned with removing the foul creature inside of him. All because a pretty face told him to accept the demon as part of him. 

Caterina knows better. She knows her grandson is no demon. 

“Rook did not–”

“Would you give up your entire life for them? Throw away all we have worked for? For an upstart and a demon?” 

“That’s enough!” Lucanis snaps and Caterina is caught off guard enough to fall silent. “Enough. Please.” His voice turns from harsh to soft in a moment, guilt bleeding into his tone. 

She grips her cane tightly. “These are the questions you must ask yourself, Lucanis,” she says. “You can not run from them forever.” 

She leaves him to ponder her words, but doesn’t stray far, listening in to see how he reacts to what she has to say. She hopes he’ll listen, prays that he’ll see sense and abandon this childish romance of his. She wants nothing more than his happiness, save for his survival. 

She hears him sigh and she hesitates only a moment before following him out of the room. She sticks to the shadows, knowing from years of training how to follow even the most perceptive men without being spotted. She uses her old tricks now, trailing her grandson as he leaves the estate and climbs to the rooftops. 

She spots who he’s meeting right away, Rook’s face lit by moonlight as they pace back and forth on the ledge. 

They look up as Lucanis approaches, their face breaking into a grin. “So, how’d it go?” When Lucanis doesn’t respond, they whistle. “That bad, huh?” 

“I don’t understand it,” Lucanis says. “I thought she would see reason, but it’s like she’s incapable of believing our love is for love’s sake. Everything appears as a bid for power to her.” 

“Guess I am the power-hungry type,” Rook jokes. “I mean, it’s always been my dream to take over the world!” 

“Rook, please. Be serious.” 

Rook’s smile falls and they sit on the edge of the roof, their legs dangling off the side. “What do you want me to say, Lucanis?” They ask. “Your grandmother isn’t going to change her mind about me no matter what I do. She isn’t that kind of woman.” 

Lucanis sits beside them. “I know.”

“Then what do you want to do?” 

He sighs, considering. “I know things aren’t easy right now, but I want to remain a fixture in your life,” he says. “After all, you’re one in mine.”

Rook studies his face in the moonlight. “Good,” they say eventually. “I’m not letting you go that easily, Dellamorte.” 

“I would hope not.” 

The way Lucanis looks at his lover in what is believed to be a private moment gives Caterina a moment of hesitation. There’s love there, genuine and passionate. It’s more affection than she’s ever seen on her grandson’s face before. 

She hopes that love doesn’t get him killed.

[sky-fire-forever]

New Jesus Fic!! Featuring Jesus and Judas' survival and the guilt that comes with it

After A Year