We want to start by apologizing for not announcing this sooner. The week of creator reveals was a rough one for the mods: illness, some AO3 glitches, and work have all been hitting hard.
Creators were revealed for the exchange on time almost two weeks ago! Please check out the revealed collection and see if you were right about your guesses.
During the exchange period our creators worked to create 36 new Dragon Age Polyamory works.
We want to thank everyone who participated. A special shout out to our fabulous pinch-hitters!
Updates
After some discussion, we’ve decided to leave all of our exchange collections open for treats indefinitely! This means you can continue to peruse past exchange info, write prompts, and treat either individuals or the exchange.
The collections will remain moderated so we can ensure that no one is treated something they do not want.
As a reminder, if you’d rather not receive gifts outside of your assignment, you can change your settings on AO3. Instructions on how to do this are found in our Treats & Treatless FAQs.
DA POLY WEEK is being discontinued starting today. Don’t worry, though! We’re going to still accept submissions of Dragon Age Poly content! We’re opening it up to year round.
Whenever you have new DA Poly content to share, feel free to tag us when you post, and we’ll add it to the queue, no need to wait until a certain day or week or time to tag us.
It will likely be January before we update our info to reflect this, so be sure to spread the word!
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They do not think of their future. Rosalind knows of the deadline for herself. She knows that one day she will walk a bath her fellows have walked from the beginning, knows one day she will meet her fate in the dark, that she will join her Brothers and Sisters.
She just doesn’t talk about it.
Leliana knows her own future will probably end in blood. She knows she balances on a knife and that her work in the shadows can lead to her downfall in seconds as she watches for knives against the Divine.
She does not think about it.
Zevran knows he will probably die to a blade. His life has been death and pain since he was a child. He knows that he will never find another calling but the one of death dealing and knows that the job typically comes with an end that’s a knife in his throat.
He does not acknowledge it.
Instead, they focus on the now, on Star and his puppies. On their home and their friends.
They will separate for a period of time when the mages rebel, Rosalind needing to run from their home, hearing voices that sound off. She vanishes with an elf running after her to remind her it is not time- it cannot be time while her redheaded lover works to make sure the mages are free.
Rosalind will hear a rumor of a possible cure and she hunts it, Zevran with her with their hearts in their throats only to have them dashed in the end.
They will come back to a woman made Divine as their lover. She does not care and names Rosalind her Right Hand and Zevran her Left. She declares marriage something not between two people but between anyone in love and ‘Chastely’ married her lovers. It’s a scandal and those in the know snicker about it, but they love each other fiercely.
Star will die a few years later and Rosalind mourns with a heavy heart while she works tiredly. They will look over the orphans in the care of the Chantry with smiles and joy and Rosalind shows that magic is not something to be feared but to be celebrated.
They will be happy together even as dark marks begin to appear on Rosalind’s skin and her dreams are plagued with voices of the Darkspawn.
Time is and will always be their enemy.
She will vanish one day with a letter begging them not to follow. She vanishes to the Deep Roads with poison in hand to drink if need be so she is not made a Broodmother.
She will die with a smile on her face, slapping a Walking Bomb to herself and to all the Darkspawn around her.
Leliana and Zevran will live on after, together not letting go. Leliana will become fond of a mage child who wants to be a Mother in the Chantry and Zevran shares the fondness. They will look to her and see a possible child they could have had with Rosalind and take care of her as such.
Leliana will dis naming the child her successor, a blade through her gut by an angry Mother who is jealous. Zevran will die with a blade in his heart from behind while protecting the new Divine.
They will die looking forward to seeing Rosalind again.
They don’t like looking to the future now, but they know how it will end.
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It’s @dapolyweek Day 4! This world is an abomination. Alternate universe and crossovers
So here’s the first scene in a present for @novemblu. It’s a Modern AU/rough fusion with an original universe of mine centered on witches.
Primary ship is Zevran/F!Amell/Alistair, with a background ship of Anders/F!Hawke/Isabela, so it’s two polyships for the price of one!
Today’s title was shamelessly stolen from Glory and Gore, by Lorde.
Everyone a Rager
"Mmm, something smells good," Alistair said as he wandered into the kitchen, pausing to press a kiss to the top of Maggie's head before heading to the coffee pot.
"Burning hate mail!" Maggie said brightly, gesturing to a hovering ball of flame she'd been feeding Fereldens Against Witchcraft pamphlets into. "Also more cleansing potions. Oghren's still convinced that his house is haunted. I told him there were no weaknesses in the veil there, but he didn't believe me. Probably because he was drunk."
Alistair snorted, turning to look at her over the rim of his coffee mug, a bright blue monstrosity that said Lampost Licker in gold embossed lettering. "This is why we don't drink the ale he gives us every Satinalia."
"Plus it makes the perfect base for most of my grenades,” Maggie agreed with a wink. Oghren’s ale was an excellent combustible, and the fumes tended to knock people out faster than a similar grenade made with deep mushroom.
Alistair laughed, his voice still rough from sleep, and Maggie bit her lip. She had a long to-do list and did not have time to add him to it. Her phone buzzed on the table and she glanced down at the screen, grateful for the interruption, then grinned widely when she saw who it was. She jumped to her feet and pushed the accept call button. "Hey cuz!"
Alistair grinned at her as she started to pace around the kitchen and she stuck her tongue out at him. Both of her lovers liked to mock her for her inability to hold still while on the phone. Or most other times.
"Hello cousin!” Constance responded cheerfully. “I was wondering if Amell’s Magical Solutions would be interest in partnering with Hawke Investigations on a case? This asshole we’ve been tracking, Gacard Du Puis, has been spotted in Denerim and I was hoping we could crash with you. And borrow your services and the services of your beautiful boy-toys."
Maggie laughed, loud and delighted. “Of course you can! And I’ve really perfected my noise-cancelling spell, so we shouldn’t have a repeat of last visit’s awkwardness.”
“You mean when me and my mine were totally louder than you and yours?” Constance teased, her voice rich with amusement.
“In your dreams, cousin,” Maggie shot back, still grinning. “But whatever helps you sleep at night. Or not sleep, as the case may be.”
Constance snorted, but didn’t respond to her jibe. “We’ll be there tomorrow morning. Work up some sunlight potions?”
“He’s a vampire?” Maggie asked, surprised and intensely curious. “Is this a legal takedown or do I need to scout out some dump sites?”
“I appreciate your willingness to help me cover up a murder, but no. This dick’s a serial killer, so I actually have permission to kill him. Although it took Aveline’s, ‘I will crush you into paste if you say no’ expression to get the magistrate to give the order. The Du Puis clan has lot of pull.”
“Fucking Orlesians,” Maggie muttered, glaring at the wall as she hit the end of her pacing loop.
“They’re the worst,” Constance agreed. “I need to go pack if we’re going to make our flight.” Her voice softened, warm and familiar, the sound of the first and only family Maggie had managed to find after leaving the Tower. “Thanks, Maggie. I’ll see you soon.”
“Can’t wait,” Maggie told her before hanging up, then smiled fondly at her phone before tucking in one of her many pockets and turning to grimace at Alistair. “I hate Orlesians. Especially Orlesian vampires.”
“But you love your cousin, and you get to help her kill an Orlesian vampire, so really you should be in a good mood,” Alistair said, setting his coffee mug down on the counter so he could pull her into his arms.
Maggie went happily and gave a thoughtful hum. “You have a point. Can I pick your outfit for tomorrow? You don’t show off your ridiculous biceps enough.”
"You and your cousin are weirdly competitive about your sex lives," Alistair muttered, his hands snug against the curve of her waist as she leaned into his chest.
Maggie laughed. "I think we're just weird all around. I slept with Anders when he and I were both at the Tower, and Zevran had an ongoing thing with Isabela before he met us. You're the only one who hasn't slept with one of her lovers."
Alistair's nose crinkled and Maggie grinned, standing on tiptoe so she could kiss it. "I'd suggest we could fix that, but that's too weird for me." She snuggled a little closer, looking up at him through her lashes. "Besides, I don't want to share you."
He kissed her in response, firm and hungry, her feet lifting off the ground until she was only supported by the tips of her toes and the strength of his arms. When she started to see spots behind her eyelids, she pulled away with a breathless laugh. Another pair of hands covered Alistair's on her waist, a firmly muscled chest pressing up against her back, still damp from the shower. "Is our darling Maggie being possessive again?" a low voice asked right next to her ear, making her shiver. Zevran kissed her neck, preempting any answer she might have made, and then reached a hand up to pull Alistair down for a heated kiss. It lasted long enough to make Maggie breathless all over again, every inch of skin that was pressed against them tingling with want.
Her cousin had made her busy day even busier and she so didn’t care. Alistair and Zevran were officially on the top of her to-do list.
In one world, Alistair didn’t manage to grab a poultice to heal himself. In one universe he didn’t die for his friend, his fellow Warden, his sister.
In one world, Rosalind rips open her own veins and screams as power rips through her. In one universe Rosalind falls to the battlements with her eyes blank and blood drained from her body.
In one world, Rosalind is made a hero in death. In one universe, Alistair stands tall and tries to say sorry.
In one world, Leliana and Zevran hold onto each other with both hands, as their world crashes down. In one universe, they watch their lover kill herself.
In one world, Leliana throws herself in to her work, reaching out to hold onto Zevran when she needs to breathe. In one universe, Zevran slaughters Crows and crawls back to bury himself in the arms of one of the women he loves.
In one world, Rosalind lies dead and a statue is her honor while Leliana and Zevran mourn, shaking their heads at an honor she would never have wanted. In one universe, Leliana fights for mages in remembrance of the woman she loved and still loves, remembering ribs and too thin skin.
In one world, Rosalind leaves a letter behind explaining she knows Alistair would never wish for his child to grow up without him, and she can’t do that to him after it happened to her when she was fifteen. In one universe, Leliana hunts down Rosalind’s child and finds a grave for a child killed by a Templar for having magic at six.
In one world, Leliana sneers at Cullen and refuses to look at him, only saying to him; “Missed meals?” He gets it and pales. In one universe, Zevran takes pleasure in wiping the Templars who hurt his mage off the face of Thedas.
In one world, Leliana purposely destroys any evidence of an alliance between the Inquisition and the Templars. In one universe, she lies through her teeth to the world about any contact from them.
In one world, Leliana cannot be swayed to be kind to any who oppose her in her goals. In one universe, Zevran slaughters those who would destroy what his lover is working towards.
In one world, Leliana is Divine. In one universe, Zevran is a grandmaster of assassins.
My entry for day four of @dapolyweek featuring Sophie Amell, Nathaniel Howe, and Anders.
AU prompts I stole for this story: “I come home and find your cat in my sink after work” and “I work at home and I haven’t left my house in a while and you think I’m dead.”
This story features my old apartment building and what I look like when I work from home.
When Anders pulls into his regular parking spot under the large oak tree, he frowns to see the little black sedan still parked crookedly in the spot behind him. He tries to remember the last time it moved, but he can’t. The tree’s leaves have started piling on the car’s windshield, deeper than they should be if the car’s owner ever left her apartment.
He climbs out of his front seat and stretches out his long limbs. As he locks the door, he can’t help but glance up to the second floor balcony that he knows belongs to the woman in question. There are a few plants lined up on the railing, and from down here they look a little droopy.
Have they been watered lately?
He frowns, the thought following him into his apartment. He lets the door slam shut behind him and immediately leans down to scoop up the orange ball of fur that’s winding around his legs. Ser Pounce meows loudly, greeting his owner after a long day at work, and nuzzles Anders’ chin. Anders rewards the cat’s affections with a scratch behind the ear as he dropped his keys on the kitchen table.
As Ser Pounce quiets down, Anders tilts his head to focus on listening to any sounds coming from the upstairs apartment. Sometimes he can hear her walking around up there, the floors are so thin, but now… nothing.
“Have you seen our neighbor?” he asks Pounce. The cat just blinks slowly up at him and starts squirming to be put down. Anders lets him down, hesitating, then gives in to the impulse to go check on the girl upstairs.
He knocks gently on her door and then takes a step back, looking down at the doormat. He smiles slightly at its simple go away message, but doesn’t obey. After a moment of silence, his anxiety growing, he knocks again before starting to bounce on his toes.
Just as he was starting to give up and considering finding the apartment manager to check on her, the door opened just a few inches, enough for him to come face to face with his upstairs neighbor.
Who isn’t dead.
She raises her eyebrows at him and waits for him to speak. He opens his mouth and closes it once before finding his words, “Hi.” Well, that isn’t quite what he meant to say.
She grins and opens the door a little wider. “Hello.” She leans against the door jam, one hand on the knob, and he quickly looks her up and down. She’s wearing a sweatshirt that slightly too big for her, a pair of running shorts, and slippers. Her blond hair is chopped off in a pixie cut, wavy from letting it air dry. She doesn’t seem to be wearing any makeup, but her skin is clear and her lips are pink, and he feels himself blushing as he realize she’s been watching him gawk at her.
He needs to say something. “You’re… not dead.” He winces even as she barks out a surprised laugh. It’s loud and echoes around the empty corridor.
“Not yet,” she acknowledges. She squints at him, thinking, taking in the scrubs and nametag. “You’re in apartment 324, right? Downstairs?” When he nods, she smiles. “With the fat cat?”
“He isn’t fat,” Anders objects automatically. “It’s his fur.”
She laughs again and takes a step back from the door, opening it wider. “Do you want to come in? I was just making some tea.” He hesitates, and she adds, “You can tell me why you thought I was dead.”
He chuckles and follows her in, kicking his shoes off by her door and padding after her in his socks. She pulls a mug out of one of her cupboards, and tosses him a box of tea bags. “I have earl grey or one of those herbal ones,” she offers, and waits as he selects the flavor he wants.
He hovers as she prepares the tea, then they both sit down at her table. She sits across from him, crossing her legs over each other and bouncing the top one. Almost immediately, a brown blur flies through the air and then suddenly there’s a little dog sitting in the empty chair between them. It props its little paws up on the table and sniffs at the air, checking to see if its humans are eating anything interesting.
When nothing smells appetizing, it sits down politely, and turns to look at Anders. He’s surprised to see intelligence in its dark eyes, and he reaches one hand out for the dog to sniff.
“This is Radagast,” she says, cupping both hands around her mug. “Radagast, say hello.”
The little dog yips, and Anders laughs. “Is this Radagast the Brown?”
She nods and smiles as Anders smooths his hand down Radagast’s wiry fur, then says, “So. My name is Sophie.”
Anders blinks at her, realizing he never introduced himself. “I’m Anders.”
She grins, eyes crinkling at the edges. “Care to tell me why you thought I was dead?”
He sighs and covers his face with his hands, hiding his blush from Sophie’s giggles. “You haven’t moved your car in a while, and I haven’t seen you at the mailboxes or anything.”
“Mmm.” She hums an acknowledgement of his worries, and he peers at her over his fingers. “I work from home.” She gestures with her head over to her living room, where a desk has been set up against one wall. It holds a computer, an extra monitor, and an almost chaotic assortment of papers and books. “And I haven’t needed to go anywhere.”
Anders’ whole face lights up with understanding. “Oh! That’s… that’s good.”
She giggles. “It’s good to know someone would miss me if I just up and died though.” He coughs and shifts in his chair before taking a sip of his tea.
They’re saved from having to find something else to say by a loud knocking coming from downstairs. They both jump at the noise, exchanging glances, and it comes again even louder. They both leap to their feet and move to the door, Anders moving faster with his long legs.
He opens her it and pauses, listening, and the knocking comes again from directly below them, followed by a string of curses. Anders looks down through the apartment walkway, and he can see a brunette man standing at the front door of his apartment holding…
“Ser Pounce!”
He takes off at a jog down the stairs, followed by a curious Sophie and Radagast. The dog trails obediently behind his master, following her down the stairs and sitting at her heels when she stops to look at the two men.
The newcomer is holding Anders’ cat, a scowl on his face. She’s seen him a few times before, so he must live in the building. How does he have the cat?
“I found him in my sink,” he says, glaring at Anders. “His tag says #324, so I’m trying to return him.” The cat looks comfortable in the stranger’s arms; Sophie can even hear him purring. He holds him out to Anders, who takes the cat and cradles him like a baby.
“How did you get all the way over there, Pounce?” Anders coos, rocking the fluffy cat.
Sophie looks down at Radagast, who looks entirely put out at the scene in front of them. He cocks his head and looks from the cat to Sophie, then snorts.
“Thanks for returning him,” Anders says, looking up at the newcomer. He can’t help but give the man an appreciative once over too: he has dark hair about the same length as Anders’, grey eyes, and is wearing clothes that say he just got home from an office job.
Sophie studies the man too, enjoying the view as much as Anders is. “Are you 321?” At the man’s nod, she continued: “I’m 328, but you can call me Sophie. This is Radagast. Radagast, say hello.” As before, the dog yips. The new man just blinked down at him. “Anders belongs to that cat, I guess. Anders, say hello.”
Anders shoots her a smirk, then turns back around. “Hello.”
“I’m Nathaniel,” says the new guy, a smile finally lighting his grey eyes. “I just moved in.”
“Welcome to the building!” Sophie says, inspiring another yip from Radagast, who spins around in a little circle. Nathaniel chuckles at that and bends down to offer the dog his hand. Radagast sniffs Nathaniel’s fingers, then offers his head to be scratched.
Sophie smiles. “He likes you. Oh! You should join us for tea.”
“Tea?” Nathaniel echoes.
“Yeah, come on. If we’re going to be neighbors, we should get to know each other.” She turns and walks up the stairs without looking behind her. Nathaniel and Anders exchange a look as Radagast barks at them once before scurrying to follow.
Anders chuckles, moving to drop Ser Pounce back in his apartment and shutting the door firmly behind him. He looks at Nathaniel with his hand still on his doorknob and grins down at the man. “Let’s not keep our lady waiting.”
