OC Codex Prompts

13. transcript of an interview with your OC

Set in the neirrolverse with @my-da-phase’s Neilar Lavellan as Inquisitor

BB: I’m Belinda Belinas from the Herald’s Herald, bringing news of the Second Inquisition to the peoples of Southern Thedas. Today’s exclusive is an interview with Ser Errol Trevelyan, a knight of the Inquisition. Thank you for agreeing to join me today. (Answers may have been condensed or edited for clarity.)

ET: I really can’t talk right now.

BB: But you already agreed!

ET: I said not now, I didn’t... Just keep your voice down, alright? You’ll give away our position if you continue on like that.

BB: That I can do. Now, what’s the Inquisitor like?

ET: How do you mean?

BB: Personality, temperament, religious devotion, that sort of thing.

ET: I’m not comfortable putting my words into anyone else’s mouth. Ask him directly.

BB: Then let’s start by having you give us your general impressions of Inquisitor Lavellan.

ET: As a leader or as a friend?

BB: Do you count him as both?

ET: I do. Having to bear the weight of the world would wear on anyone, I don’t doubt, but the Inquisitor does so with a grace and determination unparalleled by any since the time of the Maker’s Bride. That I personally have lived this long is thanks in no small part to his keen elvhen senses and—

“I never said that!” Errol growled, crumpling the gazette’s thin pages with enough force to worry a more casual observer.

Intrigued, Neilar bent just enough to retrieve the gossip column from Errol’s grasp. He found the offending pages rather quickly and skimmed no more and a handful of sentences before laughter overtook him.

“It’s not funny,” Errol continued, his earlier gruffness now more akin to a whine, “and it’s certainly not true.”

“No need to reassure me there,” Neilar teased as he met Errol’s gaze. “That they wrote you comparing Andraste and myself favorably is a dead giveaway.”

His smile wore into a cringe a few more times as he read on, but his face softened again as he set it down for good. “Even if they didn’t quote you exactly,” he continued, his voice falling lower, “it’s nice to know they still captured at least some of your sweetness.”

Errol turned to face Neilar with a fond frown. “It’s not sweet to speak of you in glowing terms, love. You wouldn’t call a rooster sweet for calling out the return of the sun. Some things just are; their own inherent light shines through no matter how clumsy the telling.”

“You only say that because you love me,” Neilar quipped back.

Moodboard Meme

💛 for a moodboard about our muses’ relationship

OC Asks

Errol

19. What does your OC think of children- either in general or about having them?

I’ve talked about his attitude towards children here, but as for having children of his own (or at least those for whom he’s directly responsible)? That would be extremely traumatic for Errol. I may be willing to put him through absolute hell in other regards, but even I couldn’t do that to him.

22. Who is/are your OC’s closest friend(s)?

Justin (deceased), Jareni (deceased), Miryem (gone), Skinner and Krem of the Bull’s Chargers, Sera, @my-da-phase’s Evelyn and Neilar, and @mocha-writes’ Solomon

Friendship ended with Dalish, Cremisius Aclassi is now my second-closest Charger friend

27. What are some things your OC admires about his/her soulmate?

Asks for OCs and their Partner(s)

No ‘or’ in my vocabulary, only ‘and,’ I’m afraid. This isn’t an exhaustive list, mind you, but...

❣️ When did your OC first realise they were in love? How did they react to the realisation?

Dia x Amaury

It was something she was expected to pretend at, this falling in love business. She was his mistress, after all, and the Carta was counting on her to play her role well. She hadn’t counted on ever missing him when he was away and the thought that she might have fallen for real was immensely worrying. He wasn’t a good man and he wasn’t a good partner, and while Dia never had any notions of ‘deserving’ anything in life, she felt she could earn better from someone else. She didn’t want to let him subdue her and so her heart became her enemy.

Dia x Feofan

They were supposed to be a safe harbor and nothing more; a place to dock, so to speak, but not somewhere to make into a permanent home. They were damned hard to reach, what with their damsel-like imprisonment in the Gallows and their moods and even their height as they towered over her. She wasn’t going to be the first to fold this round; she would win this game between them if it was the last thing she did.

Dia x Vivienne

How could anything feel so comfortable and safe? Whatever sort of magic this was, she wanted more, more, more... An uncanny softness, as if the sharp edges she’s come to anticipate from her feelings had been buffed away when she wasn’t looking. No acute stabbing longing, no aching absence, no stinging betrayal, no tightness in her chest or lump in her throat or tenseness in her posture or pain in her hands or fear in her brain. No fear. So this is what love without fear feels like.

Errol x the Iron Bull

Everything is horseshit and no one else seems to appreciate that, but he does. He sees more clearly than anyone else and his eye seems to burn as he looks down into Errol’s very soul, smirking a little at what he seems to find there. He’s left wanting, yearning for he knows not yet what. The dreams of dying and hurting slowly shift into ones of holding, of being held, of hurting in ways that heal and help and— He finds he can’t meet Bull’s gaze for a week.

Errol x @my-da-phase’s Neilar

Night fell rapidly in the mountains as each peak blocked the sun’s rays long before it met with the horizon, but even a winter’s night such as this one was a welcome reprieve from the constant stream of Leliana’s people watching his every move.

To the Blighted Void with his concussion, as far as Errol was concerned, and good riddance; there were more important things to do than lying on a cot while strangers poked at him to keep him awake.

The sky was a deep shade of blue by the time he reached the meeting spot—a faint black so blue it resembled watered-down ink, as if someone careless had set a cup down upon one of Josephine’s carefully-perfected signatures; with any luck, Neilar would return to the camp any minute now... and when he did, Errol would be waiting.

Give me a pairing + prompt and I’ll write a 3-sentence fic

Blurb Prompt List

Fluff #26: “I missed you. So much.”

Errol awakens to the distant sound of horns. He leaps from bed and rushes to dress faster than he’s ever done before in his life, running down the steps and throwing himself out into the main hall even as he works at the buttons on his shirt. The lallygagging nobles are absent from their roosts today, no doubt clicking away elsewhere about things only an Orlesian would understand. He pays their absence no more mind as he leaps down the steps that lead into the fortress’ garden.

Those horns, faint as they were, could only mean one thing: the Inquisitor approaches. It’s been an unbearable wait and the sporadic letters have helped far less than he’d ever admit. After several long weeks, Neilar is finally back on the surface and returning to Skyhold—to him. The thought is almost too much, even for Errol, but the excitement has worn him down too much to fuss at his thoughts.

He sees Neilar and his companions growing ever larger as the distance between them decreases. Every step closer tightens something in his chest until it’s pulled so taut he stops breathing. It finally snaps as Neilar’s face comes into focus, the tension in Errol’s body melting out of him so fast his knees practically turn to jelly. His affection must have struck its target because Neilar looks up and locks eyes with him. Even from his vantage spot along the battlements, Errol can see the curve of Neilar’s mouth shifting into a smile. Unable to bear it any further, Errol rushes down the steps until he’s nearly straining at the mouth of the opening portcullis.

The gate lies open soon enough and there in front of him stands Neilar, a fading bruise on his forehead, a cut on his cheek, and still utterly flawless anyways.

Errol runs at him and sweeps him up into a spin before finally setting him back down on his feet: “my love! You’re finally here.”

“Nothing could keep me away from Josephine’s mountain of paperwork forever,” Neilar jokes a little before dropping the pretense and crushing Errol into a hug. “I missed you so much, ma vhenan.”

Errol returns the embrace.

“I missed you,” he repeats. “So much. Thank you for coming back to me, love.”

At a loss for words, Errol stares at the ring in his palm and tries to hold back a sudden wave of tears that threaten to fall down his face.

Neilar’s smile dims slightly as he looks up and sees both anguish and joy warring with each other across Errol’s features. “Vhenan?”

“It’s just,” he chokes, “I never thought that—“

“I know.”

“No, I mean...” Errol pulls back slightly as he pulls out a set of silverite rings from an inner pocket on his jacket. “You got the drop on me! Neilar Lavellan, you truly are one sneaky man.”

Neilar’s smile widens once more as he works the ironbark ring onto one of Errol’s fingers.

Errol let’s out a watery laugh as he presses a kiss to his fiancé’s hairline. “Wrong hand, love.”

“You have two hands, don’t you? Since we apparently have two sets of rings, you might as well have them spread out a bit.”

“And you?” Errol asks, furrow returning to its usual spot between his brows.

“I still have a handful of fingers,” he says, waggling his fingers for emphasis.