#foby

The rogue didn’t flinch.  One corner of his lips lifted in a smirk, an eyebrow cocked.  He lifted his chin, defiantly held Tobias’ glare.

Tobias’ turquoise, kohl-lined eyes narrowed; blonde hair drifted over his cheek, carried by the calm breeze.  Favian didn’t need to look at Tobias’ mouth to know it was twisted in a dangerous snarl.  

The Inquisitor was coiled like a cobra, the tension between them so thick that a flick of his dagger could have cut the air.  

Favian’s half-smile widened a little, as he allowed his gaze to slide down Tobias’ rugged features.  He was no more afraid of the Inquisitor and his dagger than he would be of a wounded cat hissing and lashing out with teeth and claw.  The man’s instincts were honed to pulling a blade as easily as most people would swat a fly.

Once, the genuine threat of danger from the unpredictable assassin was the thrill.  Now it was something else.  Something more.

Still, the crotch of Favian’s form-hugging leather trousers was becoming uncomfortably tight.

“Alright,” he said into the sliver of humid air between them, his voice almost a purr, lips barely moving.  “If you say so.”

“I do.”

“Good.”

There was something endearing in Tobias’ pouty insistence that he didn’t need any help.  There was a lot that was fiercely attractive about the intensity of his glare and the way his brow pulled together in a scowl.

Favian reached up, placed two fingertips against Tobias’ wrist, and gently pushed his hand and the dagger away from his chin.  Tobias’ eyes flashed in annoyance.

“Asshole.”

Favian chuckled.  “Guilty as charged.  But I’m an asshole with a bandage and some salve, and no wish to have to explain to Cassandra why I let the Inquisitor wander around the woods with an open wound.”  

Tobias paused.  He sighed, flipped his knife and slid it back into his belt.

In that same instant, Favian’s own knife was in his hand and pointing at Tobias.  The Inquisitor blinked in surprise.

“The fuck?”

Favian gave a flick of his knife towards a rock at the side of the path where they’d been ambushed by bandits.  

“Sit.”

Tobias snorted a laugh.  “Cutting me would defeat your objective, wouldn’t it?”

“It’d give me another wound to stitch.  I’d still call that a win.  Sit the fuck down, Inquisitor.”

The tilt of Tobias’ head then was remarkably like a curious cat.  But, even to Favian’s surprise, he backed up and sat down on the rock.

Favian stood just in front of him.  On a whim, he held his knife to Tobias’ throat, just beneath his jaw.  Just to see how he’d react.  The smirk on the Inquisitor’s lips told him that Tobias didn’t fear Favian anymore than Favian feared him.  

At least, they didn’t fear each other for their knives.

Favian knelt in front of Tobias and sliced open the torn and blood-soaked sleeve of his jacket, sucking a breath through his teeth at the sight of the wound as he gently peeled the fabric back from where it had stuck to the skin.  It was deep.

“That’ll take more than some salve,” he muttered.  Alongside the bandage and pot of salve, he pulled a pack of thread and a needle from his belt pouch.  Setting them on the ground, he took his hip flask from its carefully concealed pouch.

“How much shit have you got on you?” Tobias muttered, faintly bemused.

“Only what I need.  This will sting a bit.”

He held Tobias’ wrist tightly as he poured a drop of alcohol onto the wound.

“Fuck!”

“Told you.  Here.”  Favian handed Tobias the flask; the Inquisitor glared at him as he shot back the spirit, then grimaced.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Moonshine.  It’s shit, but the effect is potent.  Enjoy.  And shut up.”

Tobias took a breath to speak, but exhaled it with little more than a hum.

Favian hesitated.  He would have to take off his gloves to be able to work with the precision he needed.  He flicked a glance up at Tobias, half hoping that he wouldn’t see; but of course Tobias was watching intently.

He pulled off his gloves.  Clenched his badly scarred right hand into a fist.  Took a deep breath.  Another glance up saw no change to Tobias’ expression.

The two of them had been… well, intimate wasn’t quite the right word for their rough and fleeting trysts; usually involving Favian pressed up against a wall with their cocks in his hand, or on his knees with Tobias’ cock in his throat.  Yet somehow, he’d managed to keep this from him.  The shame of it lingered.

But that didn’t matter here and now, and if the sight of his disfigurement changed how Tobias saw him, then so be it.  What did it even matter?  Nothing they did was out of a like for each other anyway, only a dangerous but irresistible attraction.

Tobias remained silent and remarkably still as Favian worked to clean the wound and stitch it as best as he could.  Which, all told, wasn’t very well, and he had to use his dagger to cut the ends of the far from neat stitches.  But the wound was closed, and it was clean.

When it was done, Favian sat back on his heels and flicked back a lock of red hair that had escaped his low ponytail.  Without looking at Tobias, he cleared his throat and picked up his gloves.

“There.  Make sure you see a healer when you get back to Skyhold, get it stitched properly, or it’ll scar.”

“I don’t mind a scar.”

Tobias took hold of Favian’s right hand and turned it palm up.  Favian held his breath and swallowed thickly as Tobias looked at the burn scars covering most of his palm and the back of his hand up to his wrist.  There was no disgust in his eyes, Favian noted with some surprise; Tobias seemed almost thoughtful.

Without a word, Tobias released Favian’s hand.  He quickly put his supplies back in his belt pouch before shoving his hands into his gloves.  As he pulled the rust-red leather taut around his fingers, Tobias’ finger was suddenly curled under his chin, tilting his head up.

In a voice that was low and gruff, awkward somehow, he said,

“Thank you.”

Turquoise eyes turned down to Favian’s lips.  He leaned ever so slightly closer.  Favian chuckled.

“That’s remarkably polite of you.  The blood loss must be worse than I thought.”

“Ha fucking ha.”

His lips parted ever so slightly.  It was a moment before Favian realised his lips had parted too.  A spark of irresistible attraction shot between them like static, pulling them closer.  Favian felt his eyelids flutter as the other man’s breath ghosted over his skin.

And then that old feeling rose up, one he could not name but one that came between them time and again. For all else that they would do, never that. Never a kiss. Too close, too intimate, too nice.

He almost gave in.  He needed it.

But he couldn’t.  He didn’t deserve nice, and he couldn’t let Tobias get too close.

And so he rose up on his knees, hooked his hand around the back of Tobias’ neck, and pulled him in to run his teeth along his jaw.  Tobias grunted in surprise, a grunt that turned into a soft groan as Favian nipped at the soft skin of his throat.

A bite, another, another, pulled to his feet and dragged off the path to be pushed up against a tree, cock held in a leather grip, intense and rough and quick, spilling over into a gloved hand, and how apt that was, he mused, as he closed his eyes and slid a little ways down the tree in relief.  

Tobias pulled Favian’s ear lobe between his teeth.  He paused, as if he might murmur something into Favian’s ear.  And then he stepped back.  The moment had passed.  

The wound would heal.  But the scars ran deep.

Julius (Dulius)

1. Does your OC die before or after their lover? How old are they when they die?

Julius dies a week before Dorian, in his mid-80s.

2. How did they die?

First, this requires some exposition. The rheumatoid arthritis Julius has battled since he was a child has progressed to the point that he’s pretty much disabled, especially in his hand (singular because the other is a prosthetic even though he still gets phantom pains), which has always been where the worst of the pain was. Only, the pain areas now encompass most of the joints in his body — he lives in chronic pain and the magical treatments that have halted the RA progression and managed his pain for years barely touch the pain anymore. Smoking elfroot is entirely habitual now. He’s been doing it since he was a teenager and isn’t going to stop now, even if it no longer helps the pain. The insomnia that Julius has battled with since childhood is also worse than ever —you’d think an old man would sleep more, but he sleeps less than he ever has.

Frankly he’s not very happy. The depression he’s struggled with his entire life is running rampant. For most of his life, for all of his conscious memory at least, Julius has been an artist who coped with life through art, until his arthritis takes that away. Julius hasn’t been able to do art consistently for years by this point. He still tries occasionally, I think he’d lose his mind otherwise, but pieces take forever and really wear him out.

Until the day before his death — he wakes feeling more energetic than he has in years. He slept well — the miracle being that he slept at all. His joints don’t creak when he gets out of bed. His flesh and bone hand isn’t frozen into a stiff, swollen claw that resembles a body in rigor mortis even though he’s alive. He gets up, has breakfast outside on the veranda of the estate he shares with Dorian, who is still kicking it as archon even though he should’ve given the reins to Klaus, my Rook and his heir and younger cousin, decades ago.

Julius smokes his pipe and starts sketching Dorian, still his muse even after decades together and the fact that he’s depicted Dorian in so many different ways and in so many mediums that he could fill a small gallery with only Dorian (he too has pictured that profile in marble.) It’s been months at this point since Julius was last able to hold charcoal or a brush. He’s out of practice, yet he feels an unusual sense of confidence, one he rarely had, in his ability to depict Dorian in all the beauty he still possesses. The planes of Dorian’s face, all the wrinkles and laugh lines and the cute little mole underneath Dorian’s eye are ingrained into his hand’s muscle memory and his minds’ eye.

He no longer needs Dorian to be present as a reference to draw him from memory, yet this day, he spends an inordinate amount of time simply mapping the features Dorian’s face — paying special attention to those striking gray eyes and the hair that had once been raven black hair now almost fully the color of fresh snow. He begins to draw, his right hand moving across the page of his sketchbook with more fluidity and control than he’s possessed in years.

For the first time in many years, he holds the same grace that had come to him easily on the good days of his youth, when the pain in his joints was well managed and his hands weren’t locked in place. When one of his “hands” wasn’t a collection of wood and metal bits poorly emulating the appearance and more to the point the dexterity of flesh and bone.

Time passes as it always does, waiting for no one, not even the former inquisitor, and suddenly Julius and Dorian have been sitting on the veranda for hours, talking, laughing, Dorian still sharing the latest magisterium gossip as if he hasn’t seen everything in his 40+ year long political career. All the while, Julius sketches the familiar face that he has loved since that first fated meeting in Haven’s chantry. He offers commentary when he can get a word in, Dorian still loves to hear his own voice after all this time, and honestly, Julius still loves it too; his favorite lullaby, a voice that had lulled him to sleep countless times when the insomnia made nights long and bleak.

As Julius draws, shapes and lines coalesce on the page to form the visage of the man who had spent the better part of his life fighting to make change in a society happy to be set in its ways. The fight had taken its toll though Dorian tried his best to never let it show, but Julius could see it in the set of his shoulders and the prominent wrinkles on his husband’s face. He’s still as beautiful to him as ever — moreso even, and even after all this time, Julius still isn’t confident that he has skill enough to capture the man’s beauty in its entirety. Julius finishes the sketch, signs his signature at the right hand corner as he always does, and gives Dorian the sketch. He’s embarrassed, after all these years sharing his art with Dorian is still something that makes his heart pound in his chest, but Dorian is his heart outside his body and he deserves to see.

Dorian is speechless, he always was, no matter how many times he’d seen his own face rendered in Julius’s art. Dorian is brought to tears — maybe the years have softened him or perhaps the realization that his husband spent the one good day he’d had in far too long ensuring that Dorian knew just how loved he was in the moment and all the moments before and after by memorializing the moment forever in his art.

The two share a kiss, passionate like the kisses of their youth, a passion that had never faded though their youth certainly had. They pull away and Julius suddenly finds himself weary. He’s overcome with an exhaustion that makes his bones heavy. His hand is beginning to ache. He takes a few drags of his pipe and declares that he’s ready for bed. Perhaps tonight will be a good night for sleep, he thinks. Maybe the insomnia will be kept at bay by Dorian’s comforting embrace just for this night. The couple does their nighttime routine together and fall into bed entangled with each other like they’d slept each night for more years than either cared to count. Julius falls asleep with Dorian’s arms around him and Dorian’s breath in his ear. He slips off to sleep easier than he has in years. He doesn’t wake again.

Klaus visits his cousin's estate a week later — Dorian was supposed to resume archon duties that day after his mourning period. He was late, and Klaus had a feeling he knew why. Klaus finds Dorian sitting in his Julius’s favorite chair, Julius’s last sketch laid over his chest, and Julius’s unlit pipe still clutched in his hand. He’d joined his husband by the maker’s side. Klaus and Tevinter mourn, and the wall of light, still lovingly maintained, gets two more orbs side by side.

3. What were their last words?

“I feel like I’m going to sleep good tonight, my love. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.”

He slept. Too good. 😭

4. How are they mourned? How do all their loved ones react?

Dorian joins him in death soon after. By this point the magisterium has been in recess for a week so Dorian could mourn Julius. Klaus takes over as archon and extends Dorian’s week of mourning to honor Dorian himself. Klaus takes all of Julius’s sketches and other artwork and has an exhibit curated to honor their lives. There’s a special section dedicated to all of the artwork Julius has done of Dorian.

Tobias (Foby)

1. Does your OC die before or after their lover? How old are they when they die?

TBH, @lunastarhawk and I have discussed two distinct possibilities for this, depending on who dies first -- and I think we came to the conclusion that the ultimate result, regardless of who dies first, is that the other is joining them very soon. Logically, Favian is probably the one to die first if both of them live to “old age” -- Favian has 18 years on Tobias, though. As far as a "canon" Fobyverse death, I think ultimately it's Favian who goes first.

2. How did they die?

Tobias brings about his own destruction without his anchor (hah) holding him back. Favian and their daughter, Lucy are the things keeping him alive and when he loses one, the other just can’t balance the scale themselves. I don't want to say he'd actively end his life, but that is a possibility I could see for him, honestly. What he DOES do is slip back into self-destructive tendencies. Excessive drinking, picking fights, and goading someone to kill him. Basically, he slips back into the person he was in his 20's. One way or another, his life catches up with him, and he doesn't last long without Favian. I also think the effects of bearing the anchor and just the way Tobias doesn't take care of himself play a huge part in his death.

He wouldn't die right away. He'd try for a while. He promised Favian he would. Tobias wouldn't tell Lucy that he was slipping, because he's her dad and she's not supposed to have to take care of him. She's an adult now and knows her dad better than anyone, other than Favian. She can tell that he's not doing well and tries to keep an eye on him anyway, but she has her own life to live and can't be there for him 24/7, not that he'd let her anyway.

Ultimately, I think Tobias dies from a combination of alcoholism, a host of unhealed injuries, lack of general care for himself (not eating, not sleeping), and the effects of the anchor. Like Julius, he slips off in his sleep after his health hits a critical low that leaves him bedridden.

Depending on how old Favian lives to be, Tobias is maybe in his mid 60’s when he joins him. Give or take ten years?

3. What were their last words?

(To Lucy)

"M'm sorry I couldn't fight harder, love. I don't think I have any fight left in me. I've been fighting for so long that you'd think I would be better at it, but when it really counts...I promised your poppy, ya know? That I'd try, once he was gone. I told him what he wanted to hear. I think he knew I was lying. Some of his last words to me were telling me to live, anyway. And I know I'm letting him down, and I'm letting you down. But love? You've gotta know how proud I am of you. In spite of me, you're everything I wish I could've been. You made me want to be better, to try harder. You gave me a reason to live. I'm rambling now, but I love ya, Luce. So damned much. Goodnight."

Not committing this to cannon but hey.

4. How are they mourned? How do all their loved ones react?

We decided to incorporate Favian's Favidorverse death into Foby, so Tobias' ashes are scattered in the amaranthine ocean in the exact spot his husband's were. The "funeral" is small-scale, nowhere near as grand as Favian's -- Tobias would've hated the attention. It's attended by Lucy, Dorian, Maevaris (if still living) and a few other Shadow Dragons, and whichever of our Rooks exist in this iteration.

Lucy keeps some of both of her dad's ashes in a dual reservoir urn necklace in the shape of a heart. The right side of the heart is encrusted in aquamarine gemstones, the color of her daddy's eyes. The left side bears emeralds, the color of her poppy's eyes.

Zavriel (Ravioli)

1. Does your OC die before or after their lover? How old are they when they die?

Zavriel dies literally days before Rowan (@maagisterpavus). We put them in their mid-60s after much, much consideration. Possibly subject to more discussion.

2. How did they die?

Brooke and I had a whole long hour plus long conversation, trying to hammer this out. We finally settled on Zavriel dying days before Rowan. Evidently, Rowan is already dying of some undisclosed, lingering health issues, similar to his canon death. He’s actually been sickly for a long time, but managed to hide it well (it’s a rogue thing, amiright?), but it’s finally caught up to him. By this point, Zavriel himself has started having symptoms of “The Family Curse,” a strange affliction that killed his grandfather, Sylvas, and uncle, Taralen, really young. The same affliction that his younger cousin, Varien, has but has managed to keep under control thanks to Emmrich’s help. It’s diabetes, but they don’t know that in Thedas.

Anyway, after Zavriel becomes symptomatic, Rowan’s health is already failing and they know he’s dying. Zavriel makes the choice to not accept Varien’s offer of treatment to manage the symptoms of diabetes because he doesn’t want to prolong his life when Rowan is dying. They’ve been together their entire lives (except for the two years before Rowan was born and brought to the clan in Zavriel’s case) —classic childhood friends to soulmates. Zavriel has never known a life without Rowan and he doesn’t intend to start now.

The untreated diabetes ends up taking its toll way sooner than expected and Zavriel ends up dying before Rowan, in his sleep. Rowan wakes up one morning and Zavriel just… doesn’t.

Rowan doesn’t outlive him by long — maybe a few days. Goes off into the forest to be alone and mourn, and is found already deceased by Varien. No one can really say whether he died of his own failing health or a broken heart. Probably a mix of both.

3. What were their last words?

"You know, vhenan, I've been seeing Taralen in my dreams again. I can see him more clearly now, like he's standing right in front of me some nights. I think he's waiting for me. He's just going to have to wait a little longer, then. I'm not leaving you here to your lonesome. I love you, ma vhenan. I'll see you in the morning."

He... doesn't see him in the morning. And Taralen is Zavriel's baby brother who died when Zavriel was a young teen. :(

4. How are they mourned? How do all their loved ones react?

Rowan obviously doesn’t react well. :(he mourns Zavriel by joining him days later.

Varien isn’t happy with him at first. The two of them are very close and worked hard to rebuild their relationship after they’re reunited during the events of Veilguard. I think Varien is also really upset because their grandfather died from diabetes and so did Varien’s dad — it’s not something to mess around with, and they didn’t HAVE a treatment….they didn’t have a choice. And Zavriel does, but he’s purposely refusing it. Varien in the ravioliverse has still witnessed a lot of death (less than in his canon verse but still enough to really mess him up), and I think the thought of losing someone who doesn’t NEED to die is… yeah. I think a lot of the anger fades when Zavriel actually dies and turns to sadness, especially after Rowan dies. But also, Varien saw how much losing Zavriel destroyed Rowan, and he realized that, were the scripts flipped, he’d have lost Zavriel not long after anyway. I think he realizes being angry is pointless.

Zavriel’s siblings are distraught, obviously. But I think they understand in a way as well. They know how much Zavriel loved Rowan. He’s already given up most of his life putting his wants on the back burner for them, and if what he wants is to die with the love of his life, they’re going to honor that.

As far as how Zavriel is mourned, he is given all the appropriate Dalish funeral rites. His ashes are scattered in a spot near where the remnants of the clan (Zavriel's family and those that weren't killed during the attack at Wycome) are camping. After Rowan passes, his ashes are scattered in the same spot. The cycle has reached the logical progression; they began their life together, and that's how they end it. Maybe new life will grow from their ashes.

T - Ties that Bind, Alter Bridge (THE most Tobias-coded song ever) H - Hook, Line, and Sinker, Royal Blood E - Everybody's on the Run, Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds A - A Reason to Fight, Disturbed (my absolute FAVE from this playlist) R - Right Here, Ashes Remain C - Creeper, Mallory Knox H - High on my Lows, Sawyer Hill O - One Day Remains, Alter Bridge N - Not Afraid to Lose, Tremonti S - Shout at the Moon, Mallory Knox M - Metalingus, Alter Bridge O - One Last Breath, Creed U - Undisclosed Desires, Muse S - Sinners, Barns Courtney (Warning, catchy) T - The Driver, Måneskin A - Alive, Adelitas Way C - Coming Apart, Red H - Half a Man, Dean Lewis E - Elastic Heart, Written by Wolves

Gentle tags to: @maagisterpavus, @lunastarhawk, @rooks-dagger, @in-the-drowning-deep, @babydinosaur930, @handsignals, @mythals-whore, @flowersforthemachines, @sandcastlekings, @hedwigoprah, @ourinquisitorialness, @apothe-cary, @pixiedurango, @kogarashi-art

OC Holding Hands (Picrew here)

I put the hand scars on all my boys' because it reminded me of the prosthetic. Would they actually wear rings over the prosthetic? Probably not, but it's the vibes. Is that even their left hands? I don't know, I don't care.

TobiasxFavian (@lunastarhawk) - Foby: after the jerks are married and realize that holding hands and being intimate isn't *gasp* the end of the world. Why is Tobias wearing a fingerless glove over the prosthetic? I don't know. It's a vibe.

ZavrielxRowan (@maagisterpavus) - Ravioli: After the childhood best friends turned committed life partners finally get married. They both lose their arms, so Rowan commits to the #GloveLife, and Zavriel apparently paints the "nails" of his prosthetic. Which, to be clear, is something he would do. For what? You guessed it. The vibe. The vines and ladybugs felt very Dalish coded.

Julius x Dorian - Dulius: I'm kind of obsessed with this one. It pays homage to Julius being an artist, and the green "paint" on his "prosthetic hand" also reminds me of the magic of the anchor, so it's kind of up in the air about if that's actually paint or residual magic. ;) Pictured in Dorian's hand is Halward's letter, the letter that started it all for them. And he's wearing those half gloves that I don’t know just give Dorian.

Mermaid OC's (Meiker here and NB option maker here)

My three boys and a "bonus" CeCe because OF COURSE I'm making my Lord of Fortune girl as a mermaid, WHAT DO YOU MEAN? Honestly, one of my favorite meikers to date, and I don't think I can choose a favorite, but it MIGHT be Zavriel? I usually have words for that boy, but this was made for him.

Forest Fairys OC's (Fairy Meiker here)

CeCe Laidir as a fairy <3 Hi, I love her. You'd think with as much as I insist on including her in dollmakers that I would, I don't know, finish her playthrough, but I have not.

"Bonus" Zavriel! It's a femme dollmaker, but with how androgynous Zavriel is, I thought I could make it work and look convinincingly like him. PLUS, I'm pretttty sure the face tat I gave him is the alt version of the June Vallaslin (Irelin's) he already wears, so I couldn't pass that up. You can see the top part a lot better under the crown he's wearing. It's either the vallaslin or a damn close riff. Very happy with how he turned out!

Gothic OC's (Meiker here)

It's CeCe (again) and her little bat friend. This post is already so long with all the Picrews, so I'm not including a story, but that doesn't mean my girl doesn't deserve to be oogled.

Casual and Cozy OC's (Meiker here)

CeCe in a modern setting!

It's a ME (kinda) that's pretty close to my natural (I have it dyed a fading burgundy/purple color) and length, but while my hair is wavy, it's not nearly that voluptous. SPEAKING OF voluptuous, I am quite physically more so (and so much shorter) than my girl here, but I never really see body type options in these doll makers - alas. I'd so wear that outfit though. Also, realized too late there was a laptop accessory, but I wasn't remaking this again, so just *pretend* there's a laptop in my lap.