bossuary:

Fell  W h i t e
Knight-Captain Cullen, DA2
Ch. 2a of 7 (1535wc) (1a, 1b)
Gen/non-romantic
Possible trigger for ptsd-like symptoms



For weeks Sol’s embrium potion gave him almost no relief, and the prospect of an entire night’s sleep dwindled to a memory.  

In Greenfell there’d been a single blacksmith, overworked and underskilled.  For as little as Cullen had been allowed to do there, for all the rest he’d been ordered to take, he’d still insisted on meticulous maintenance of his armor and blade.  Rust and decay knew no rest, always matching the steel itself for constancy.   

Once he’d been ordered to Kirkwall, Cullen had seen to his own kit as a small measure of normality in an unfamiliar place.  The Gallows smithy had all but set guardsmen on him after his third insistent attempt to ‘borrow’ a few tools for his armor maintenance. Their compromise had been a grudging gift of some sharpening stones, the proper oils, and soft scraps of faded red cloth.

With the failure of the embrium, Cullen relied on the sole activity that would help him focus, and rose before dawn to perform the lengthy ritual of maintenance; A task that would make him useful, if not rested.  He took his bag, sword, and armor to the training yard. 

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todisturbtheuniverse:

Rating: M
Word Count: 3800
Summary: When Isabela washes ashore in Kirkwall, she expects to stay just long enough to grab the relic and go. There are two things she didn’t count on: 1) the damned thing is hard to find, and 2) Hawke.
Also on: AO3
Previously: Act 2

31. For Love

You can hear Anders snoring out on the landing.

The house is otherwise silent. The servants are all, finally, asleep. Hawke’s friends have been in and out for the last several hours, but you haven’t looked one of them in the face, not even Merrill, who sat down next to you at Hawke’s bedside and pressed her cheek to your shoulder and told you how relieved she was that you’d come back.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

You don’t look up. That sounds like Aveline, but it can’t be Aveline. Aveline will see you hanged for this.

“How do you figure that?” you ask, holding a little tighter to Hawke’s limp hand.

Aveline squeezes your shoulder with calloused fingers. “It’s your fault that half the city is still on fire,” she says, blunt as ever. “It’s your fault the qunari were here for three years. But it isn’t your fault that she dueled the Arishok. That’s her fault.”

“She wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for me.”

“She made her choice. She couldn’t let you go.” Her hand falls from your shoulder. “What does Anders say?”

“She’ll live. She needs to sleep it off. He isn’t sure when she’ll wake.” You duck your head, looking away from her still face.

“You’re not leaving,” Aveline says. There’s an incredulous question in that sentence somewhere. “If you love her, you can’t leave. Not now.”

“If I love her,” you say. Your voice is thick, like it’s been all night. You haven’t cried so much since your mother sold you for a goat and a few coins. “If I love her, I have to leave.”

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bossuary:

Fell  W h i t e
Knight-Captain Cullen, DA2
Ch. 1a of 7 (2,173 words)
Gen/non-romantic
Possible trigger for ptsd-like symptoms

(a bit of a preamble, before the story begins)

i have been a mostly quiet and sometimes tentative cullen fan for a very long time now.  writing this piece was a way to explore some ideas i had about a polarizing character with an obscure arc and too little reliable canon information. which is not to say that we need canon to appreciate or even to dismiss a character.  but i personally needed…something. i needed a narrative that felt ‘fair’ for lack of a better term. with the help and encouragement of iheartapostates , and the editing skills of flutiebear , i finished this story with far less trepidation and turmoil than i might have otherwise suffered.  hell, without them i wouldn’t have done it at all. thank you both for being wonderful. 

______________________________________

In Cullen’s twenty-fifth summer, just before All Soul’s Day, there’d been a tremendous fire in the forest near Lake Calenhad.  For days it had burned, a wall of flame eating up the horizon, cutting across the Bannorn’s green bulk.  Cullen had watched the blaze from the Circle tower, fearing the primal, inexorable hunger of that fire.  But distance was unreliable from that height, and though he’d smelled the smoke of a thousand trees through the walls, the fire hadn’t really come close enough to threaten the tower.

It was that sooty scent he recalled while willing himself to sleep now.  But here candlesmoke teased the air, not ash, and the Gallows stone around him was an imperfect echo of the Circle’s chambers.  He must have slept in those days, his mind must have been quieter somehow.  But the trick seemed lost.

On this the third occasion of sleeplessness at his new post in Kirkwall, he lay in bed for only an hour before getting up again. He dressed, slipped on his boots, and went down the corridor toward the main hall.

They were nothing alike in form, but the Gallows reminded him of the Chantry children’s house in which he’d grown up.  At least the Gallows had the morbid decency of an honest title, while the other had been a house in name only. 

“Knight-Captain,” said the overnight guard patrolling outside the barracks. Cullen nodded at her and passed through on his way to the kitchen.  One open doorway after another yielded the sounds of sleeping people.  He slowed, stopped, and stood in the weak light to watch them. 

Row after row, throughout the bunks, they snored and mumbled in their sleep.  Some whimpered, dreaming.  More than a few rubbed themselves under their blankets, sighing their satisfaction.  For months piling on, from Kinloch to Greenfell to Kirkwall, he’d been unable to do even that for himself.  With raw acceptance, Cullen moved on down the hall. 

There was so much lyrium in the Gallows, more bald consumption than he’d ever witnessed in Ferelden. Among these Marchers it flowed as freely as water from a pump.  

Cullen knew its itch. Need, need, need. His blood chanted for it.  

But the color of his need was not blue.

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Ahhhh! It’s here! YAY!

I love this so much. Cullen fans, or even Cullen-agnostics, do not miss this one.

bossuary:

few things in this world are as awesome as flutiebear.

i hope the raptor knows how good he’s got it.

aww shucks

dakkun39:

for poofyvan

コミッションについてご質問いただきました。
今のところやる予定は無いのですが、そう言っていただけるのもありがたい事だなぁと
好きなキャラを伺って描かせていただきました。気に入っていただけると幸いです :)

takityphoon:

Orana and Bodahn in #7, because sometimes I wonder what their very first thoughts were when they saw the chantry explode.

(via cypheroftyr)

controlyourface:

nextworldover:

panty-christ:

panty-christ:

not-a-reindeer:

I forgot what this was from for a moment and thought it was a gif set of Jonathan Crane weeping while he tried to microwave a pinwheel.

FOR 528,491 MINUTES

i’m still thinking about it that’s too long jonathan that’s too long to microwave a pinwheel 

you know i was thinking about this and i realized microwaves usually input by seconds, not by minutes. so he’s actually only microwaving the pinwheel for 8808 minutes and 11 seconds.

which is obviously a way more reasonable amount of time to microwave a pinwheel for come back in six days two hours forty-eight minutes and eleven seconds *ding* your pinwheel is done

(via garret-spork)

brennacedria:

gallface:

brennacedria:

gallface:

lOOks like the duke….. … has fallen gfrom grace

*bounce*

damn I remember that one. Wish we could find it

I’m sure someone still has it. Anyone? Looking for the Anders “Deal With It” gif?

I have this one instead?

I have had an absolutely awful evening but the most awful part of it was discovering that my son apparently fucking loves Fall Out Boy

I’m torn between desperately wishing that the Raptor had let me watch more of the livestream (BROKEN NOSES AGHJKLF) and being happy that he didn’t, because my fragile heart can’t bear the long, dark wait until November.

this game looks so awesome HELP

breaking: qunari don’t have tattoos, they wear special warpaint that’s toxic to anybody who isn’t qunari

OMG DIFFERENT QUNARI HORNS AND BROKEN HORNS AND HORNLESS AND HELP

and now the guy is going on and on about how bad he is at makeup, and he’s giving the WhiteScruffyQuisitorWithGreenEyes clown makeup just to prove it

we get it dude

you’re manly

so manly

very manly such wow

"I’m giving you a chance to fulfill your fantasy, which is apparently a scruffy guy with green eyes."

- Mike Laidlaw, in the new character creator demo

like if that doesn’t describe 99% of the game industry though