#galenris

[lyonface]

C3 Galenris :)

Cheers!AU official has fanart now. :)

I’m getting better with these pens lol, just bear with me for now.

–

Soft Art Meme.

[lyonface]

I was driving home listening to this remix of “Cold Water”

And then I remembered this fanfiction that I wrote months ago. And I just

What have I done to deserve such a beautiful ship? Thank you @fangrl-esque for giving me such a wholesome, beautiful relationship amidst my dark, unhealthy, and painful ships and rarepairs. Galenris is a shining spot in my life and I treasure it and the happiness it brings me.

[fangrl-esque]

Fen!Hawke? (Song Association Meme)

I actually don’t have a FenHawke ship since my OC Galaren/Fenris kinda took the place for that. ^^ AND BOY DO I HAVE A LOT OF SONGS FOR THAT OTP. But this one sums them up pretty well <3

[lyonface]

“we were playing in the snow and you suddenly tackled me to the ground and now…we’re just…staring… at each other…” (Galenris, Cheers!au) ~~snowflake~~

These two bozos are two awkward and dumb for glomping on snow.

—

It didn’t matter how long he’d been in Ferelden. He would never get used to the weather, the snow, the cold.

Fenris shuddered, his breath turning instantly to fog as he walked, a warm, puffy jacket doing its best to insulate his body heat, but it wasn’t enough. It never felt like it was enough. He lived up north as far back as he could remember before leaving that damnable place, and each new place he lived had been colder than the last. Even worse, the snow made it impossible for him to work, the construction sites closing for good reason, so he had no work until the ice and snow had cleared. As much as he liked having time off, all it did was bring him to the bar he frequented earlier to spend time with his new friend who worked their. This, of course, subsequently lead to him spending more than he needed, and since he wasn’t working, he wasn’t earning it back.

He huffed, reaching up to adjust the fat scarf that coiled around his neck.

“You’ll get back to work eventually,” Galaren told him, shrugging easily under his black, comfortable coat, “Just try to relax a little.” He’d managed to get off his shift during daylight hours and promised Fenris he would take him someplace that, according to him, had a fantastic view of the city and it looked beautiful covered in snow. Fenris obliged, though he doubted seeing anymore reminder of the cold would help his mood any.

“I need the money,” he groused from behind his dyed, patterned scarf, decorated in the colors of the season.

Galaren just rolled his eyes and shook his head, knowing full well that arguing with him would get him nowhere. “You’re so stubborn sometimes.”

“And that distinguishes you because…?”

He chuckled at that. “Listen,” he started, checking the mostly empty street before jaywalking, Fenris quick to follow him, “I know you hate the cold, but it can be really beautiful sometimes.”

The elf sighed but didn’t argue as they stepped back up on to the salted sidewalk, the crunch loud under their shoes. He did have to hand it to Ferelden, at least it wasn’t cold and dry. He had to admit that that would certainly be far less pleasant than cold and wet.

“I suppose it could be worse,” he muttered from behind his plaid barrier of wool.

Galaren just snickered. His body jostled a moment as his laughter was cut short, making a move as if to fall.

Fenris was quick to catch him by the shoulder, his hands shooting from the warmth near his body to grab a hold of him and steady him. “Be careful,” he chastised.

“Yeah yeah…” was his reassuring reply, the taller man squaring up and nodding. After a moment he found the right footing and ceased the wobble. Only then did Fenris let go, his hands retreating immediately back into the comfortable warmth of his pockets.

“Your balance is quite bad for working at a tavern,” Fenris said as Galaren crossed behind him to stand on his other side away from the road.

He cocked an eyebrow down at the elf as a response, so he continued, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “There always seems to be at least one group of loud, gesturing drunkards at the bar when I arrive. They fling their glasses about and slosh beer everywhere, especially behind the bar where you are.”

Galaren groaned, tossing his head back as he did, rolling his eyes in exasperation. He knew exactly who Fenris was referring to. “I should have them thrown out one day.”

“Hmph! Then you wouldn’t make any money.”

That earned him a scoff, “You think they tip better than the lonely, oogling women that come in? Please, Fenris.”

He hummed thoughtfully as they made to turn around a corner. He’d recalled a few instances of multiple people making eyes at Galaren, particularly when he left from behind the bar to the deliver orders to a table. Their interest was clear, and Galaren used it to his advantage. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to take him down a peg, and Fenris liked that line of thought.

“They seemed more interested in what you were bringing them than who was bringing it to them,” he answered.

Galaren shot him a knowing look, “Is that so? Well maybe you shou–!”

He lost his balance again, but this time with far too long of a stride to recover his balance. As he fell to the snow-covered hill beside him, he grabbed a hold of Fenris in a vain attempt for support, resulting in the two of them falling instead, slipping like children over a salted sidewalk.

Their bodies collided, Galaren’s back flat against the snow as Fenris groaned above him, nearly knocking the wind out of the both of them as their torsos awkwardly hit.

“Aggh, shite…!” Galaren grumbled, his voice croaking very close to Fenris’s ear.

Fenris groan, shifted his arms, one out from under him, and anchored them to push himself up, taking a breath. As he brought his arm out from under him, his cold cheek nudged Galaren’s and he froze a moment before pushing himself back.

The hood of his jacket framed his head, dark curls spraying out from around him. He barely opened his eyes, catching Fenris’s gaze, and his expression shifted in less than a second from pained and uncomfortable to stunned and a bit disoriented.

Fenris tried to catch his breath, the scarf around his neck feeling almost suffocating despite sitting incredibly loose around him. He looked over his winded face, his skin red from the cold and his eyes open and dark. As Fenris realized he was staring, he noticed too that Galaren’s eyes were far darker than he thought they were. Even then, when the sunlight hit them just right…

“Fenris? You okay?” Galaren asked, his tone entirely too nervous.

The elf blinked before feeling his face heat, realizing he’d been caught staring and scrambled up to his knees to sit back before finally getting to his feet. After a moment, he quickly and stiffly offered a hand down to him.

“…I’m fine,” he answered, not sounding at all collected.

Galaren took his hand, his panting crooking into a smirk as his ego came back to him, “Maybe I should bring you back down here.”

Fenris flattened his mouth and squared his stance, pulling Galaren up. With a sound of protest, his companion went up with him, pushing himself back to his feet. They both brushed at the snow on their coats and pants, a moment of awkward silence coming between them.

“Just…” Fenris started, hedging a look over at Galaren. When he turned, meeting his eyes, he looked away, shooting a complex look down at the ice below them, “Let’s just keep going.”

“Y-yeah, sure, let’s go,” Galaren answered, putting his own hands in his pockets and, watching where he stepped until they cleared the black ice, began to pick up their pace with no problem.

As Fenris looked at the other man’s back, his broad shoulders hidden somewhere under the puffed cotton and nylon of his jacket, he smiled to himself, quickening his pace to walk beside him again. As he brushed melting snow out of his hair and from his scarf, he decided that he could at least tolerate the cold, if anything.

—

December Prompts.

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[lyonface]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

All of my fluff prompt replies in one place. :)

[lyonface]

“I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with." for Galenris because I'm a greedy bastard and you need more sugar sweetness in your angsty hell :)

Well well let’s just make this go with the other one, shall we? How about post car cuddles? :)

—-

Fenris quirked his head as the song shifted on the jukebox near the entrance of the bar, turning from some vaguely trap electronica to a smooth, experimental rendition of an old jazz number. Narrowing his eyes, he cast a suspicious look over his shoulder at the barkeep behind him.

He had his hair down this time and was leaning against a tap as amber colored beer poured into a high glass mug. He glanced from the cash register to Fenris and looked away, catching himself and doing a double take to meet his gaze again.

“Need a top off?” he asked, talking easily over the music.

Fenris glanced down at the mug as it overflowed, Galaren following his gaze and jumping away from the tap to relieve the pressure on it. He sighed and grabbed the rag in his back pocket and wiped down the outside.

“Did you queue this song?” Fenris asked, ignoring the question.

Galaren knitted his eyebrows, but he caught his smirk before he forced it back down. “Why do you ask?”

He scoffed, “The music has been shit the entire time I’ve been here, that’s why.”

“I know what you like, Fenris, but I don’t know jazz like you do,” he retorted, throwing the rag to hang on a rod and took the mug down to the opposite end of the bar.

The elf hummed and twirled the black straw in his drink around, struggling to push through the high ice in his glass. He’d had two and was thinking about getting another harder hitting mix, or maybe just go straight for some diluted whiskey. He shook his head at the idea of following mixed drinks with straight liquor. Even he had to have standards.

“So…”

He looked back to see the bartender put his hands on the bar and lean forward, rolling his shoulders. He grunted before continuing, “What song is it?”

Fenris stopped a moment and listened, trying to catch the lyrics as they floated through the speakers to the back are of the bar, listening over the rabble of the rest of the small crowd. Whenever he came it was always until late in the evening, where many would filter out before he went him. It wasn’t quite at that point yet, but it was at least past midnight.

He recognized it as Galaren ran his fingers over his scalp to pull his hair away from his face, taking a quick drink of water. “I fall in love too easily,” he answered. He started when Galaren coughed and Fenris whipped his head around to look at him. “Are you all right?”

He nodded, putting his drink down and rubbing the water off of his face. He gestured to Fen’s empty drink. “Want another?” he asked as he tried to catch his breath.

“Highball,” he said. At Galaren’s questioning look, taking the glass from him, he added, “Anything.”

As he made his way towards the wall of liquors, Fenris watched him as he set to work, dumping the ice and storing the dirty water upside down on a plastic tray to be taken to the back to be washed. He remembered the night they’d camped out in his car on the side of the road and shared each other’s space and smiled slightly, remembering how comfortable it had been. Strange since he only knew him from here, only ever associated the man with the Rift Bar, but they had certainly developed some sort of friendship. It was pleasant just to be here, and though Fenris had attributed it to the alcohol after a particularly grueling job on site, he quickly began to realize it was more the company than anything else.

He realized he’s been staring into space as Galaren approached him, copper mug in hand. He smirked at the anticipation of some variation of a moscow mule.

“Ginger’s good for your liver,” he said with his signature crooked smirk, the curve flattening out as a holler from the other side of the bar rang out. A group of college guys were pulling him away fairly consistently since they arrived about an hour ago.

Fenris watched him go, giving the back of him a once over before taking the mug in hand and taking a sip, the condensation on the copper mug ice cold against his knuckles. The pleasant mixture of ginger ale, lime, and blood orange hit his tongue and he was certain that any other bartender would be disappointing, not the least because he had a good sense of taste.

After a few minutes Galaren returned taking the rag he’d left and whipping his hands before tossing it and leaning against the bar with his forearms, carding his fingers through his hair again. It seemed to relax him.

“They won’t leave you alone,” Fenris said.

Galaren chuckled and shrugged with his hands, raising his head to meet Fenris’s gaze. “What can I say? With this face, it’s my curse to bear.”

Fenris chuckled, taking a larger gulp before putting his mug down.

He chuckled in return, the song on the jukebox changing to some pop song about dancing. “This shift can’t be over quick enough.”

Fenris made a short sound in his throat, “I’ll be here when it is.”

He was given a surprised look that quickly became anxious excitement, “Haven’t gotten enough of me yet, have you?”

The elf laughed low behind his teeth and broke eye contact for a moment, looking down at his smile then back up, “As long as you haven’t.”

He pressed his lips together and straightened up, whooping laughter resounding from the frat boys at the other end of the bar as something happened on tv that neither of them cared much for. “Never.”

—

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[lyonface]

Galenris: “You are ridiculously comfortable.."

More modern!au? More modern!au. What did we come up with? Galaren was a bartender or some shit? Yeah we’ll go with that.

—

The car rocked gently and Fenris turned back towards the back of the car from the passenger’s seat. The alcohol was still stirring around in his mind and he hadn’t been in any good place to drive, but the cute bartender where he frequented was a nice guy and offered to give him a ride once his shift ended. They had quickly gotten on a first name basis, and Varric had had know qualms about ribbing Fenris about their quick friendship. Puppy eyes he’d called it, as if that phrase hadn’t haunted him enough.

Unfortunately, it seems that the night had plans other than getting him to his bed at a semi-reasonable hour that night. If the thunk, which was most likely a frustrated kick, was anything to show for it.

Over the rambunctious punk music playing at low volume, he heard a curse and a loud groan before approaching footsteps. Galaren opened the driver’s side door and sat back down, running a hand over his hair, pulled back in a short ponytail.

After a moment, Fenris broke the silence. “Flat tire?”

He scoffed, “If only. I think it’s the suspension.”

He winced, recalling a hard thump as they had been coming down the highway. “I guess it was…whatever that was.”

“Yeah.”

They sat awkwardly for a moment before Galaren piped up. “Listen, I’ll call around for a tow truck, yeah?”

Fenris frowned, “It’s…” he paused to turn and squint at the numbers on his dashboard, “It’s half past two.”

He looked mildly offended, “I know that, Fenris. I can leave a message. I have some stuff in the trunk if you want to look through it while I call, okay?”

He nodded hazily as Galaren gave him a quick nod and got back out of the car. He heard and felt a low thunk from further back on the car and took a breath, opening the door, and stepping out into the cool autumn evening. The temperature was enough to wake him somewhat, but he knew it wouldn’t last long.

Taking the opportunity of higher sobriety, he pushed open the trunk to find it chock filled with…stuff. After a moment of realizing the trunk light wasn’t going to turn on, he pulled out his phone and used the light of the screen to look around, pushing away boxes and bags to try and find the blanket he’d mentioned before.

He pulled out a pillow in a pillow case that likely had been sitting back here for a long time and was about to give up when he saw Galaren come to stand beside him, putting his phone in his jacket pocket.

“Having trouble, mate?” he asked, grinning.

Fenris grasped the pillow and held it close to him, “I can’t find the blanket.”

He frowned and leaned over, shoving the random assortment of things around with far less care than Fenris had. The elf decided to step back and put his own light away, wrapping his arms around the pillow as he held it close to him, resting his chin on top of it. As Galaren leaned awkwardly towards a corner compartment, examining it before pulling at it, Fenris’s eyes wandered over his body, still used to only being able to see him from about chest up.

“Ah! Here it is,” he said, retrieving the blanket from being cramped inside one of the compartments on the side.

Fenris jumped and looked away as if he were caught staring, turning to look down the barren road, illuminated by street lamps and the light pollution of the city.

“Here,” he said. Fenris turned and nearly jumped when he felt the blanket being pressed against his hands. At a confused look, Galaren shifted from one foot to the other. “You can sleep in the back seat. I’ll take the front.” He gestured to the car, the back seat already pulled down, “It’s pretty comfortable, I promise.”

It took a moment for him to realize what he said. “Wait, that’s–”

Galaren turned to him as he was about to shut the trunk. He was clearly surprised, but there was an expectant shift to the line of his shoulders.

A moment of silence passed before Fenris continued, “That’s not necessary.”

Another moment passed and Galaren forced a chuckle, turning to shut the trunk, “You, uh…um, you sure about that?”

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate that time.

“Well,” he said, slamming the trunk shut, “I’d be happy to oblige. Since you’re comfortable, I mean, of course.” He glanced at Fenris as the elf gripped the blanket and pillow before looking away again, turning to busy himself with opening the back side door, “Not that I’m only saying yes because you said it, you’re not forcing me, it’s just–”

“Galaren.”

He took a breath and rubbed at his face, embarrassed, “Sorry.”

Fenris chuckled and Galaren grinned in answer. “You don’t need to be nervous, Galaren. I like you.”

A curious look swept over the other man’s face before he cleared his throat and gestured vaguely into the car, reaching back to undo the tie in his hair, fluffy out the wavy curls once they’d come loose.

It took very little time for them to get situated, shoes kicked off, jackets used as extra personal blankets, and the pillow positioned just so it could fit them both. After a bit of awkward attempts at Galaren trying to rest without invading Fenris’s personal space, he finally draped his arm over his middle and was met with no complaints. Fenris hummed, and Galaren sighed.

“I like you too.”

—

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[lyonface]

Galenris + rain

It was a strange sensation, listening to rain pelting the surface of an open lake, the scattered and constant den of water from the sky meeting and mixing with bodies of water on the earth. Fenris hadn’t learned to swim as a child, like many other skills people seemed to take for granted, but when he finally was taught how to, he was always eager to practice this new skill. He floated under water in a relatively clear, Fereldan tarn, content to feel the fluid and the current brushing over his skin, through his hair, along with the muffled noise from above him gave him a sense of comfort and safety. Perhaps if his family hadn’t been slaves, maybe he would have learned to swim in the salty seas of Seheron, one more possibility of a life he would never know; another Leto he had learned to leave behind long ago despite the occasion that his mind wandered.

The distant splash was not unexpected, but it jarred him from his thoughts enough to realize that he had been down here for some time. It was best not to leave him to worry.

He uncurled and swam quickly up to the pier nearby, breaking through the surface and pushing his hair back with one hand at the same time, taking a deep breath as a hanging foot nearly clipped him on his ear.

“Hey, don’t scare me like that,” Galaren chastised, his tall frame bending over to look down at Fenris, blocking the rain from hitting him, “I’m serious; I’ll come in after you if I have to.”

Fenris smiled slightly, gently taking Galaren’s ankle in his grip, enjoying the warmth that remained there as it bled into his palm. “You will complain the entire time as well.”

That toothy signature grin met him when he turned to look up, causing his to spread ever so slightly in response, the warmth in it far more comforting than the bottom of the lake.

---

Look at all that symbolism~! What a great pairing.

Send me a pairing + a word and I’ll write a 5-10 sentence fic.