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direwolfrules · 24 days

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Oh my fairy godmother I am so happy you are post about Ever After High!!! Do you have any fanfic or au ideas involving them? Like, what if one character had another destiny or what if they were in the Star Wars universe?! It’s just interesting to think about!

Hey! Glad to see we share another fandom interest!

So, I have this barebones post for what I would have done as a crossover between g1 Monster High and Ever After High.

As for general fanfic ideas I have a few. I shall now list them in varying levels of detail:

1. A Very Charming Groundhog Day Year:

Basically, the Charming siblings time loop back from a bit after Dragon Games but before Epic Winter to the day before the school year started (the day of the Family Ball in the books). While it would be kinda angsty, the best time loop fics are usually crack fics, and this would be no exception (if I ever wrote any of these things).

So Daring, Dexter, and Darling are all initially in states of panic and anxiety. Daring, he was in the middle of a quarter-life crisis and now has to deal with everyone and their fairy godmother thinking he's Apple's Prince Charming.

"Daring Charming, more like Distressed Charming, am I right?"-- Dexter, who should get to exhibit asshole little brother energy more often, as a treat.

Speaking of Dexter, he's panicking cause of all the awful stuff that's going to happen during the school year and also because now he has to go through the nerve-racking ordeal of asking out the girl he likes all over again.

Darling's in hell because everyone and their fairy godmother expect her to be this perfect little damsel, again, which is just- ugh. There are days she wishes she could carry her sword around with her, and they're most days. Also, she never got to talk to Apple about their True Love's CPR, which is just tragic.

The loops go on for a while, some constants in them include: Darling freeing herself and helping little Good-Enough Charming get one of their grandfather's trophies for the scavenger hunt, Dexter and Darling teaming up to kill the changeling and free cousin Charity (sometimes Daring helps but he's content to let his siblings have fun for once), Darling accidentally on purpose flirting with Apple and Apple experiencing several degrees of gay panic, Dexter fumbling asking out Raven for the first time (he's really such a dork, just a funky dude), and the Charming Siblings teaming up to make Milton Grimm's life a living hell.

In one loop they secretly film him playing with his toy unicorns and his action figure of himself and they hijack Blondie's mirrorcast to play it to the entire school.

After several loops a Monster High crossover happens, and so in every loop after that the Charming sibs, who have grown incredibly gremlin-like after experiencing the insanity of the school several dozen times, make sure to drop monster slang when it's just them and Cupid. Like:

Darling: "Wow, Cupid, that top looks clawsome."

Daring: "Totally, it's freaky fierce."

Cupid: "What?!"

Darling: "That top looks nice on you. Anyway, we gotta run."

Dexter: "Yeah, see you later ghoulfriend!"

I have some other half-baked ideas for this one but it'd probably be it's own post.

2. Murdoch Mysteries-ish AU:

This one makes no sense if you've never watched the hit Canadian Detective Show, Murdoch Mysteries. Or maybe it makes some sense, idk. Instead of a modern AU, we have a 1895 detective AU. It's barely an idea, I have no idea if I'd even keep this in the fantasy setting of (an 1895) Ever After or not.

Dexter is the Detective William Murdoch of this AU, the man with no game and beautiful blue eyes who women keep inexplicably falling in love with. He's observant and a little strange but he's also a brilliant detective. One of the major differences though is Dexter is the disowned son of old money parents.

Raven's the Dr. Julia Ogden, the outspoken, independent, and compassionate coroner helping solve cases and being amazing. Her rich, controlling mother doesn't much approve of her life choices but old Mrs. Queen can suck it. Raven and Detective Charming have a clearly mutual attraction but they're both hesitant to act on it cause what's a romance without a good slow-burn.

Hopper's the Constable George Crabtree of this AU. Listen, the everyday George matches Hopper's human side, and writer George matches Hopper's frog side. I will not elaborate, because I really cannot. Just feel the vibes, cause the words aren't coming.

I'm not 100% sure who'd be the Inspector Brackenreid. Part of me kinda wants to make it Professor Badwolf, and then I could make Milton Grimm the asshole commissioner. Coach Gingerbreadman is the Inspector of Station 5, the rivals of Station 4.

Daring is heir to the Charming family fortune. Golden boy, everyone loves him, wants more than anything to be able to talk to his little brother in public, but their parents would disown him as well if he stepped out of line.

Apple is one of Raven's housemates at Sisters boarding house, run by Bella and Brutta Sister. She was once courted by Daring, it was at the point where people were expecting an engagement announcement any day. That's when they suddenly broke it off, with no explanation (the explanation is Daring's in love with another girl and Apple's in love with his sister). Snow White and her husband barely agreed to let her move into the boarding house, I honestly have no clue how Apple managed to pull that off but good for her.

Idk, Darling's a vigilante. She's got the same deductive genius as Dexter, she just doesn't have the same ability to join the police force. Inspector Badwolf is tired of his cops being outdone by the mysterious White Knight (yeah, yeah, I made Darling into Victorian-era Batman). Couldn't the White Knight patrol Station 5's territory? (The answer is no, because Darling really wants to catch a glimpse of her twin and also because Sisters Boarding house is in Station 4's territory and sometimes she likes to secretly crash with her girlfriend).

3. The Destiny Cycle AU (AKA: Ever After High but the Rebel Movement is an actual Rebellion AU):

What it says on the tin. Raven discovers the book is fake before Legacy Day. Her and Dexter, who in this AU is believed to be Ashlynn's future Prince Charming because someone made a good post about the potential dynamics that could cause and I love it, set out to uncover what other secrets those in charge are hiding.

Basically, in this AU Ever After is a dystopia where the Royal Families tied the survival of their dynasties' rule to their stories. Like, magically tied them. The Fates themselves have been bound by the magic of the Destiny Cycle. Ever After's Destiny-bound citizens are forced to repeat the same stories as their ancestors, all because Happily Ever After doesn't include a revolt or the institution of democracy. All stories are repeated as a precaution against anyone figuring out what the ancestors of the Royal Families did.

Taking some inspiration from the SDCC Raven Queen doll's letter from her mother, the Evil Queen discovered the truth about the Destiny Cycle, said "not my kid you bastards", and proceeded to try to break the Cycle's bonds. Her taking over other stories and cursing Wonderland was an attempt to stretch the probability bonds of the Destiny Cycle's magic to the breaking point.

Stuff's gonna go down and basically these kids know time is running out until there's a war, cause the only way to avoid being offered up as a lamb to the slaughter is to overthrow the whole system.

God, I really gotta make this into it's own post as well now. But here's a basic rundown of some stuff I'd include:

Dexter and Raven being young and in love and just all the secret romance feels

Snow White knows about the Destiny Cycle, but Apple absolutely does not know.

Apple being born blonde is a sign that the Evil Queen's schemes loosened the grip of the Destiny Cycle, at least for a moment.

Ashlynn, Hunter, Dexter, and Raven as secret rebel leaders.

The backgrounders will have actual roles dammit! (Looking at you Lawrence Bonecrusher III, aka Orc Boy).

An exploration of artificial Destiny Cycle "True Love" vs. real True Love, featuring Apple, Daring, and Darling.

C.A. Cupid, sent by her godly family to infiltrate Ever After and cure it of the Destiny Cycle, because it's interfering in the domains of the gods.

A unique Monster High crossover idea that I will elaborate on in another post.

These children absolutely end up having to kill someone and it scars them forever.

As for different destinies AUs or Star Wars AUs, I haven't really given them much thought.

I think, in a Star Wars setting (possibly Old Republic?), Raven would be a Jedi padawan descended from a long line of Sith. Instead of Mirror Prison, her mom is dead and her Force Ghost is bound to a giant, mirrorlike piece of kyber crystal. Uh, not 100% sure who her master would be.

Darling would also be a Jedi padawan, and Maid Marian would be her Master. Maid Marian gets into custody battles over this kid with this old Jedi Watchman known only as The White Knight. She'd still have her time-slowing hair flip, in this AU it's just a unique way of activating the Force Slow ability.

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yurozo · 2 months

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a study in silence (fenhawke)

(e) fenris is selfish for loving hawke the way he does, but can't help but forever remain in her orbit. circling in her presence, but never getting close enough to taste it. he's simply accepted that hawke is something that will always remain out of his reach, until she reaches for him first. fem!hawke and fenris romance, in the moments between.

1. Fenris lingers in the Hawke mansion for far longer than usual, lounging near the fireplace in relative silence. Marian and him were never ones for rushing through a good bottle of wine; it was always an unspoken rule between them, even when they could rarely agree on anything. He nurses the wine glass with an uncharacteristic languidness while he pretends not to notice the way Hawke is watching him out of the corner of her eye. He watches her just as sneakily in turn, at how her legs stretch out on the couch opposite him and how her arm flexes when she lifts her glass.

He feels a sort of shaky relief that he’s performing in the act of indulging something after all the years of having nothing. They have that in common, he supposes. Hawke tries to break the silence, chattering on about some recent adventure of theirs that Fenris had definitely been on. Regardless, Fenris lets her go on, watching her with a keen eye and a curled lip that looks suspiciously fond. Despite the fact he’s a man usually prone to quiet, his demeanor always stone and sly, Fenris finds a particular calmness in her endless discussions of whatever comes to her head. Ultimately, Fenris is a weak man only for her, in the way she provides a form of relief for him– Fenris can simply sit and enjoy her endless meandering and take sips out of her glass when she pretends she’s not looking.

“Are you staying the night?” Hawke breaks the lull in her story, looking over at him with an expression Fenris can’t decipher.

“I suppose.” Fenris answers, still staring down at his glass. “The walk is far too long to make at this time of night.”

Hawke snorts at that. “Ah, yes. Walking to the other end of the street too much of a labor?”

“Exactly.” There’s a bit of a sly grin on his face. “Not after this much wine.”

Fenris doesn’t want to think about how much of a habit he’s made of staying the night at her place, sleeping stiffly in her armchair and trying desperately not to think about what she looks like in her bed. That every single time he will lie and tell her that sleeping there was comfortable, and the smile that she gives him will ultimately ease the ache in his muscles. The knowledge of Hawke in clothes other than her armor is enough to keep him out of the bedroom, because Fenris knows deep down he does not have enough self-control to be a gentleman about it. And knowing Hawke, she’s most likely sprawled out under her sheets, her dog curled up at her feet. The thought makes him smile anyways.

“You can sleep up in my room if you like.” Hawke’s voice lowers, and she looks away from him to stare down at her hands. “I do hate to see you sleeping on the chair like that.”

There’s a long silence that stretches between them, one that feels different than the others. It’s like a thick fog that settles on Fenris’ shoulders, clouding his better judgment. It’s a line that they’ve never dared to cross, despite their budding friendship over the years. Sure, Fenris has dragged her back home after a particularly tough venture outside of the city, or more often than not back from The Hanged Man. Despite this, he had never dared to cross the threshold into her bedroom. It felt private, like a barrier that always kept their friendship from developing into something more.

But then again, Fenris is a weak, weak man.

“Alright.” He answers, taking another sip of his wine. “I don’t believe the dog will fit on the bed with us.”

Hawke laughs. “He can survive sleeping on the ground for one night.”

They head up to the bedroom minutes later, once the bottle of wine has been thoroughly indulged. Fenris follows at her heels like a puppy, his fingertips lightly tapping against his thigh. Hawke pays no mind to it, opening the door for the both of them and gesturing to him to walk in first. Fenris takes a deep breath, and passes the threshold.

The first thing he notices is that the room is more sparse than he expected. There’s very little personal belongings in her room, save for a journal and scattered pieces of armor. Hawke had never been one for keeping things for herself, often being annoyingly generous with her gift-giving. He had been at the receiving end of it far too many times for him to count.

He lets Hawke climb into bed first while he takes off the remaining pieces of his armor. Fenris takes his time carefully placing it into the corner of the room, waiting for Hawke to change her mind. She doesn’t, and instead watches him undress with a sly grin on her face. He gives her a slightly scolding look, and she dramatically turns her head with a smile.

“Enjoying the view?” He climbs into bed, rolling his eyes playfully.

“Just admiring the Maker-given gifts.” She smiles back, settling under the covers.

Fenris lets out a light scoff, turning to face her. “I didn’t take you for an Andrastian.”

“I’m not.” Hawke answers simply, facing him as well. “But some sights almost make you believe.”

Fenris knows that part is true, at least. The sight of her once again, of Hawke lounging in her bed in something other than the armor he normally sees her in is enough to make even the most sadistic man believe in something more. Something pure and unbidden that Fenris is just self-hating enough to believe he will never deserve. Hawke had always been something that felt just outside of his grasp– humble enough to humor him with their friendship, but always too good for him to have. He’s thought about running away, about leaving Kirkwall and Hawke behind for good, but Fenris is selfish. There is no better fitting punishment for a man like him; to want something so badly, to hold it and feel it in his arms, and know that he is never going to be worthy of it. It’s a constant push and pull, a tease of something more without ever crossing the boundary.

There’s that silence again. That forgiving, comfortable silence between them that Fenris is too familiar with.

Hawke reaches over, unthinking, and presses a soft fingertip to Fenris’ face. He doesn’t move, too frightened to move, as her hand slowly cups the edge of his jaw. Another moment passes, his gaze crooked, before he wraps his hand around her wrist. His movements are slow– careful, like approaching an animal you wouldn’t want to scare away. Fenris is many things, cold and cruel and heartless; but here, in this moment, he’s vulnerable. He’s gentle.

It should stop being a surprise at this point, Fenris thinks, that she can so easily convince anyone to bend to her whims.

It still doesn’t prevent how his heartbeats trips and doubles over itself as she shuffles closer to him, the warmth of her thigh sinking into his skin. Ordinarily, he would move away. He’s too familiar with affection being used as a form of control, too familiar with the cold sting of a lash against his back. But this feels different, her hands are soft and warm and everything that Fenris is not.

There are certain things in the catch of a breath, in the flex of a muscle that had always entranced him. An unspoken language, one that says so much with so little sound. For all the talking Hawke does, she can appreciate Fenris’ silence in a way few can. In the moments before, Hawke looks down at Fenris’ wrist and studies the skin there– tanned and thin, his lilac veins too close to the surface. Nothing about Fenris had ever seemed fragile until now, when he’s peering at her with too large eyes and a strange sort of vulnerability.

Hawke leans forward and presses her lips to his. There’s no spark, no fireworks, no final piece fitting into the puzzle. It’s peaceful, and it’s gentle, and it’s silent. There’s no sound in the room except for the light puff of air that escapes Fenris’ nostrils, and the soft sigh that leaves Hawke’s mouth.

Perhaps the silence isn’t so bad.

In a moment, it changes. What was once gentle turns into something more. Flurried hands pull at his chest, greedy and wanting. Because her every whim is his purpose, and because his purpose is somewhat clouded and inhibited– Fenris complies. Under the endless staccato refrain of you should not be doing this and Hawke deserves better, Fenris' heart feels like it’s alive for the first time. Everything about this feels good, and he is selfish to the core.

“Curse you, Hawke.” He finally grumbles, their lips just inches from each other. She looks at him curiously, but the glimmer in her eyes gives her intentions away.

“That’s not the common reaction I get from people after kissing them.” Hawke laughs; bright and cheerful and happy. “What brought that on?”

“You made me need you.” He whispers, looking into her eyes with that look of vulnerability again. Hawke’s hand wanders to the back of his neck, and she pulls him in for another kiss.

“The feeling is mutual.” She smiles against his lips, and this time it’s Fenris that moves in first.

When he walks out the door that night, he leaves his heart behind the threshold, and tries not to cry at his first unselfish deed.

2. The silence is different after that. It’s stilted and awkward, and everyone else has begun to notice. Even Hawke is uncharacteristically silent, in a way that only Fenris can hear. They’re walking through Darktown, trying to find another damned sewer to crawl through when Varric finally says something.

“So, are you going to spill the details?” He asks, looking up at Fenris with a wry smile. Fenris only looks back at him with what can only be described as an expression of scathing anger, and Varric holds his hands up in surrender. “Just need some details for the novel, you know how much my readers love the tragic romance.”

“There is no romance to speak of.” He answers quickly, perhaps a little too quickly for his liking. Varric glances over at Hawke, then at Fenris, and his expression turns thoughtful. Fenris scowls. “Whatever you are writing in your head, stop it.”

Varric simply laughs, and re-adjusts his crossbow. “Alright, broody. I’ll drop it. But I care about Hawke. Try not to let her suffer for too much longer, yeah?”

Fenris looks ahead, and pretends he didn’t hear him.

3. He can tell Hawke is suffering. He can see it in the tears building in her eyes, her sluggish movements. The walk back from Foundry is silent again, and none of the other party members have the courage to speak. Fenris watches Hawke walk into her mansion with a conflicted look on her face, before Varric pats him firmly on the back.

“Go talk to her.” Varric’s voice is firmer than usual. “It’s best if it’s you.”

Fenris nods at Varric in thanks, and opens the front door. The moment it shuts, the first thing he notices is the lack of silence. He can hear Hawke crashing about her room, dropping her armor on the floor with a loud clang.

He heaves a deep sigh, and walks up the stairs. The banging stops.

Fenris is starting to have second thoughts once he reaches her bedroom. Thoughts that he shouldn’t entertain when he sees her sitting at the foot of the bed, the very same bed that they had shared one night months ago. These thoughts were dangerous and impossible, and Fenris tries to suppress the feelings lingering in his chest. It’s not what Hawke needs, and above all, Hawke is what matters. Especially now, when she needs someone so desperately.

He lingers by the doorway. “I don’t know what to say, but I’m here.”

Hawke continues to look down at her hands, at the blood that still stains her fingertips. She hasn’t bothered to wash it off, and Fenris has the sinking feeling that she’s not going to for a while yet.

“It was all my fault. If I had been faster-” Fenris cuts her off before she can continue.

“You are looking for a forgiveness that I cannot give to you.” He sits down next to her, just close enough that their thighs brush against each others. Any more contact would cause Fenris to crumble, so he limits it to only what he can handle. Only to what Hawke needs, and nothing more. A line in the sand, drawn by Fenris in a desperate attempt to keep himself from giving into his selfish desire once more.

“There is no forgiveness for people like me.” She answers sadly, and Hawke’s face carries that same vulnerability that Fenris once showed her. People like us, Fenris wants to say, before he stops himself. If anyone deserves forgiveness, it’s her. The people’s champion, pushing the same boulder up the same hill countless times and hoping for a different result. Once again, they’re the same in that regard.

“There is nothing you could have done.” While his answer is blunt, both of them know it's true. This is the way Kirkwall works, circling the same tragedy and suffering like water entering a drain. The city lets it sink into itself, before spitting it back out with more tremendous amounts of force. It’s unfair that it has to be her, the person who has given everything to this terrible city, only to receive nothing but tragedy in return. The city does not pick and choose which ones are worthy of something better, no matter how much Fenris wishes it could be so.

“Perhaps.” She replies, so soft that it hurts. Fenris sighs, and like he’s done it a hundred times before, covers her hand with his. Her touch is warm, just as she is, and Fenris pointedly does not comment on the tears that splatter on his hand.

It’s Hawke that turns her palm up, lacing their fingers together. When Fenris casts a sidelong glance at her, she’s staring ahead at the wall like nothing is happening. Before he can do something incredibly stupid and out of character for him, he squeezes her hand once and lets go. He stumbles towards the door, ignoring the way he can feel her eyes on him.

“I’m here if you need me, Hawke.” He says, right before he closes the door. “I always am.”

When he finally shuts himself away, Fenris stands in the hallway for a moment too long and tries to force air into his lungs. Hawke’s expression is branded into his mind, the way that she cried and crumpled before him. In all the years that he’s known her, he’s never seen her so weak.

Everything ever written, all the books that Fenris forced himself to read after Hawke’s appalled shock at his lack of education cannot describe this feeling in words. Fenris was not someone made to love, he was made to hurt and follow orders, and this type of tenderness is entirely unbecoming to someone like him. But Hawke is someone made of love– it pours over her every word, laced in every tender affection she so freely gives.

He wants to give that to her, help fill the chalice that Hawke empties so easily.

But that was before– before Hawke had crawled her way into his heart in that fussy and incongruent way of hers that Fenris loathes so much. Before he kissed her, before he broke her heart, and before he left his heart in that damned bedroom.

4. Isabela is staring at him again. An unsettling and calculating gaze that’s sending shivers up his back. He can tell Hawke is pretending not to notice, keeping her gaze forward and towards their destination.

“What are you staring at?” He finally says, glaring at Isabela with all the

“Trying to see something.” She smiles, and Fenris can just barely see the glimmer of amusement in her eye. Isabela’s up to something, and after years of knowing her, he knows when she’s about to stir up trouble for nothing other than her own amusement. “Anders and her have been getting close, don’t you think?”

Fenris says nothing, but the slight twitch in his eyebrow gives him away. Isabela chuckles to herself, and turns her gaze forward. When he finally responds, his voice is tinged with the slightest hint of jealousy. “What Hawke does is none of our business.”

Isabela largely ignores him, continuing her train of thoughts much to his chagrin. “I see him lurking out of her house at all hours of the night. Always with that sly look on his face.”

His eyes flicker over to Anders in pure unadulterated anger, and Isabela nearly doubles over in laughter at the cross look on his face. Over the years, Fenris had become increasingly obvious with his affections, and Varric had made it a regular habit to mention the ‘puppy dog eyes’ that always breaks through his stoic exterior at the mere mention of her name. He can feel the energy humming through his veins at the thought of Hawke with anyone else but him, because Fenris is selfish and terrible and wicked.

Out of the corner of his eye, breaking his unrelenting scowl in Ander’s direction, he can see Hawke look back at him with a concerned look on her face. He softens at that, and his markings fade to a dull hum. It only makes Isabela smile wider, at the way Fenris becomes so uncharacteristically weak from only a glance in her direction. The very thought of her with Anders, of him touching her the way he once did, is enough to bellow the pit of jealousy flaming in his stomach. This spirited pursuit of inactivity ends here, he decides, and follows Hawke a bit closer.

5. Driven by a morbid curiosity, and perhaps the lingering feeling of jealousy seeded and nurtured by Isabela’s comments, Fenris begins to drop hints. Increasingly expensive bottles of wine that happen to show up on Hawke’s kitchen table with no warning, lingering touches on her back after an arduous battle. He rubs a droplet of blood of her cheek with his thumb, his expression filled with an aching tenderness reserved only for her. He lets their legs press together in the cramped seats of The Hanged Man, shallowly excused to his friends by having a glass too many of whatever swill he drank this time.

Hawke had also drank too much this time, it seems, by the way she leans her shoulder into him with a casualness that Fenris envies. Every move, every dance of affection was always carefully calculated by him, and yet Hawke touches him like they had known each other for millenia. They eventually get shooed out of the bar, with Hawke hanging off his shoulder and reeking of still blood and ale.

She rambles on once again about something Fenris is only half-listening to, his mind preoccupied by thoughts that are once again impossible and dangerous. The curve of her lips, the arch of her back. The white-hot contact of her arm around his shoulder that sears into his skin like a brand.

“My point is-” Hawke speaks a little too loudly for his taste, especially considering that her lips are right next to his ear. “My point is– they obviously love each other. I don’t understand why they don’t just buck up and say it.”

“It is seldom ever that easy.” He answers simply, holding her waist a little tighter. Love had never been Fenris’ particular forte, no matter the amount of terribly cheesy novels Varric makes him read now. It is something that will remain locked inside of his chest, dampened by his terrible and unselfish desire to see her happy. Happier than anything a broken former slave could ever give her. “And Isabela’s not particularly the sentimental type.”

Hawke rolls her eyes, and sighs deeply. “I know. I know, and yet I want them to be happy. Love is so… stupidly complicated.”

Fenris can understand that, at least. The ardent and unrelenting desire to see someone they care for truly content. “Love often ruins people. She is right to be cautious.”

“All I’ve ever wanted is to love someone.” Hawke answers, her voice softer, less slurred. “Like that, I mean. I never thought I would be one of those sappy romantics, and yet-”

Fenris looks at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to ignore the way his heart is nearly pounding out of his chest. Hawke’s silent for a long moment as they stumble through the streets of Hightown at a leisurely pace.

Hawke looks at him, hiccups once, and smiles crookedly. “I like the new sword. It suits you.”

“Thanks.” He shakes his head, fighting the grin rising to his face.

They make it to her front door, and the moment between them vanishes into the night air. He leads her into her house, where they play cards and he lets Hawke believe she won fairly. All he can do is try to shove down the image of her smiling at him so openly to the back of his mind.

6. Fenris is pacing around her mansion, muttering half-impassioned Tevene curses into the open air. Hawke simply watches him stalk around the room, sitting in the armchair with a half-empty bottle of wine.

“Festei bei uno canavarum.” He mutters angrily, the markings tainting his skin casting the room in an eerie glow.

“No need to go overboard with the thanks.” She teases half-heartedly, tilting her head curiously at him. Fenris was particularly known for these random bouts of anger, but this was different. He was mourning, broken by a life lost. Fenris only looks at her scoldingly, but says nothing in return.

“Hadriana is dead. I should be free.” He finally says, his tone still laced with anger. The energy thrumming through his veins is running too hot to dampen, and Fenris lets that anger simmer off him in waves. Hawke doesn’t seem particularly perturbed by this, sipping at her wine while he storms about the room. Suddenly he stops, his gaze fixed on the fireplace with a withering expression. “I should be happy.”

“You still can be. This is not the end of everything.” Hawke answers, leaning forward slightly in her chair. “Danarius is not all that you are.”

Fenris still doesn’t move, his eyes still lingering on the ashes flickering out of the fireplace. “It feels like it.”

“I know. But this is a chance for you to start over.” She stands up, walking over to him to lean against the wall. He only looks at her briefly before the flames feel like they’re licking up his ankles, and he forces his gaze back to the dying fire. “To have a new life.”

The phrase ‘You could leave this all behind’ is left noticeably unsaid. Fenris doesn’t want to leave Kirkwall, the thought only ever crosses his mind for brief moments before being quickly stamped by his aching fondness for this place. Particularly for one person within it.

“I don’t want a new life.” I don’t want to leave you, is what he doesn’t say. She understands it anyway. “I thought I would be free.”

“You are free, Fenris.” He also notices the way she doesn’t use his old name, the one whispered to him in Hadriana’s dying breath. Hawke is looking at him with that expression that he once again cannot describe. “You always have been.”

Fenris watches as the flames flicker out, leaving behind only flaring embers. “This freedom tastes like ashes.”

“I know.” Hawke answers, reaching her hand out to gently interlace her fingers with his. “But this time it’s going to be different.”

7. It’s another night that he’s lingering about in her presence, nursing another expensive bottle of wine that he not-so-secretly dropped at her place. He had been ecstatic at her invitation to drink it together, using the wine as an excuse to ensure Anders will not be making any more night-time visits to her mansion. Hawke is tittering about the kitchen, complaining once again that he doesn’t eat properly, that his mansion is a mess, that he really ought to stay with her while they at least clean the corpses off the floor.

Fenris watches her with a keen interest, fingers tapping on the wine bottle in an uneven rhythm. “I think it adds character.”

“Character.” She scoffs, turning to face him. “The smell alone– I truly have no idea how you can even bear to step foot within it..”

“Because it’s mine.” He answers, his brows slightly raised. There’s a slight pride in taking something from his former master, in desecrating it to the point of abandonment. A property of Danarius’ that Fenris can completely destroy with very little consequences.

“At least clean it a little.” Hawke sighs, leaning back against the counter. “Just the entrance, so I don’t have to smell rotting corpses when I need to come get you.”

“For you, I will.” He grins slightly, taking another sip of wine. For her, he would clean the whole damn place. Get on his knees and scrub every inch if it makes her happy. But he doesn’t say that, just looks up at her with that slight grin he knows she loves to see so much.

“Good. Maybe one day I’ll actually be able to spend the night there.” This time, her tone is lighter, more teasing. The comment gives him pause, his fingers resuming that endless tapping on the wine bottle. The silence grows heavy between them.

“We never did talk about it.”

“About what?” She takes a step forward and seats herself across from him. Their knees slightly touch against each other under the table, but Fenris doesn’t move away this time.

“That night.” He finally says, looking up at her. Her expression crumbles, and he can see the exact moment that she recalls the heartbreak he caused her. The very same expression she wore the night he left, the night he took what he needed from her and left her broken under the covers. The silence closes his mouth and twists at his heart. He loves her in such a vain and terrible way, an ember desperately trying to keep the fire burning no matter how much he tries to be altruistic.

“You never wanted to talk about it.” Hawke looks down at the table, one finger carefully caressing the edge of the wood. She follows the grains delicately, and Fenris tries not to remember the way she had touched him like that once, like something fragile. But he does, and it kills him. “And I never wanted to push.”

“I thought it would be better if you hated me. If I could forget about everything that happened between us, if I could forget-” Fenris pauses, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I ask for it anyway.”

Hawke is still staring down at the table, her brows furrowed. “Remembering isn’t all so bad.”

He knows. Maker, he knows. Despite everything that’s happened, not only between him and Hawke, but with Varania and Danarius and everything else. Memory has brought him a terrible sense of tranquility that makes him uneasy. It’s painful, feels like being burned alive from the inside out, but the pain makes it real. Makes the memory real. “The worst thing is that I remember it.”

“I know.” She answers, finally looking up at him. Fenris looks at her eyes, at the way the light glimmers in them, and feels a part of him come to life. She remembers too, he knows in the way her eyes gaze through him.

“I cannot give you what you deserve. You deserve a lot better than me.” Fenris feels like he’s pleading, coming back to that line in the sand with a damned fortress, armed with cannons and soldiers. “A lot better than this.”

“I love you anyways.” She smiles at him. Stupid, caring, giving Hawke, emptying out what’s left of her just to see him smile. Her hand, once again, reaches out to lay on top of his. “But I need to know why.”

“I thought about what I would say to you. About the answer I would give.” Fenris can’t say the reason why he was so painfully and pathetically in love with someone who showed him a tender kindness when he was never deserving of it. That after seeing the past that made him, molded him into a lyrium-infused cold-blooded killer, he knew letting Hawke go would be the only chance he ever got to warrant her. That he made a stupid decision to try and be a better man, and it hurts her anyways.“I am a coward. The memories it brought up– I am not a man that could show you the love you deserved.”

“And yet?” She questions, her eyes peering up at him curiously. He loathes those eyes, the way it sees through every crack in his barrier so carefully put together by tattooed hands. “There must be a reason you’re bringing this up.”

“And yet I love you anyways.” He answers. “Because I need you in ways that I shouldn’t.”

Fenris lets himself be selfish, for this one long painful moment that sits between them. Love really is a complicated, all-encompassing thing. Fenris hates it, but cherishes the feeling anyways. He swallows the apprehension clawing its way up his stomach, and continues. “Nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you.”

“Perhaps -” Hawks smiles, her expression going soft. Her fingers lightly curl over his wrist, the same way Fenris had once held her. “Perhaps I’ll hold this over you a little while longer.”

He lightly chuckles at that, and pulls her closer. “Don’t you dare.”

8. They’re laying in bed hours later, his arms wrapped around her waist. This time, he has no thoughts about leaving, no doubts about his place here. It feels right, and Fenris can comfortably sit in the silence with her.

“Do you remember what you said to me? About needing me?” Hawke is the first to speak, as she usually is. Her finger traces light patterns into his chest, nails pressing right at the edges of his markings. They hum lightly at her contact, a pleasant dull sound that reverberates in his chest. It doesn’t hurt this time, nor will it hurt anytime after.

Fenris remembers. He lets the silence speak for him.

“I’ve been thinking about it.” She continues on, trailing down towards his abdomen. “I think we’ve always needed each other.”

He thinks about it, about the ways that they had always sought the other’s presence in their darkest moments. How Hawke held his hand after Leandra, how Fenris paced about her mansion after Varania. Two stars forever in orbit, refusing to keep the distance between them. A blurred line in the sand, washed away and moved inch-by-inch until there was no longer anything standing between them.

“You’re not selfish, Fenris.” Hawke turns to him. “There is nothing about you that my heart won’t accept. I will love you to any end, against all the pain.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Fenris laughs., kissing her once more.

#i adore pathetic pining fenris #also available on ao3 please leave me comments they make me so happy #fenhawke #fenris x hawke #fenris da2 #dragon age 2 #dragon age ii #hawke #marian hawke #sorry i made it kinda depressing i hope it makes up for it #dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #yuru's writings

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