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Fix These Broken Things [Screenreader Friendly]

Summary:

What has Anders been hiding from? Why does he keep coming home late? Who forgets about their boyfriend?

Notes:

This is the screenreader friendly version of Fix These Broken Things for anyone who's devices are not displaying the heavy coding in the fic correctly, who doesn't like work skins, or who uses a screenreader. This fic is in single chapter for easier reading as the original is only multiple chapter to account for additional scrolling length due to formatting.

Please check out the original version with all the fancy coding if you can!


Additional thanks to:
thefoxinboots, for helping with brainstorming, betaing, and stupid formatting details. You're always so amazing and supportive
little_abyss, for all your help with betaing and making sure my giftee would like their gift.
Sinope, for a depressingly amazing restaurant name.

Work Text:

[A series of text messages to a contact labeled Dorian.]

[Timestamp] Today 5:47 PM
  Anders: I'm going to be late.
  Dorian: Again?
  Anders: Yes, again.
  Dorian: Okay.

[Timestamp] Today 6:37 PM
  Dorian: Dinner is here. I ordered from that bistro you like.

[Timestamp] Today 7:07 PM
  Dorian: Your cat is a menace. He tried to eat your sandwich. It's in the microwave.

[Timestamp] Today 7:37 PM
  Dorian: I was afraid you might die of salmonella. Your food has been moved to the fridge. Along with half a bottle of wine.

[Timestamp] Today 8:32 PM
  Dorian: I drank the wine.

[Timestamp] Today 9:32 PM
  Dorian: Good night, Anders.

[Timestamp] Today 9:33 PM
  Anders: I'm on my way! Just a little longer!

[Timestamp] Today 10:02 PM
  Anders: I love you. I'm almost home.
  Anders: Dorian?

[Timestamp] Today 11:23 PM
  Anders: The sandwich was delicious. Thank you.



[A blog entry, written by user @neck_romancer, who uses a circular purple avatar featuring a glowing skeleton with wings - the Dragon Age Inquisition symbol for the necromancy spell Simulacrum.]

Why do I even bother? by [Avatar] @NECK_ROMANCER

It's our anniversary, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't know.

Fair, I guess. I don't even know the actual date we got together. We just sort of... fell in together. One minute it was semi-anonymous sex at a club and flirting over champagne and then it was seeing each other outside of the club and sneaking off into dark corners of the library for a shag... and then there was that awful cocktail party where we discovered we traveled in the same circles... and then we realized we'd been dating a while and we talked about sharing an apartment and I was suddenly on a first name basis with his cat.

We don't have a real anniversary. Everyone thought that was weird, so we picked one. And it's today.

He's been working late a lot. I understand. We both work in research; I understand long hours and experiments you can't leave. I understand he was likely in the middle of something tricky and leaving would necessitate starting over. My experiments aren't quite so time critical; dead people are dead people and have been for centuries. There's nothing I do which can't hold under a stasis spell.

It wasn't supposed to be the bistro for dinner, but Maker damn it to the Void and back, I am a fool.

I took off from work early, thinking he'd remember. I came home and cleaned up the apartment. I took a shower. I put on my too tight jeans and those ridiculous boots he says make my ass look even better; I lined my eyes in kohl - which (not that I'm keeping track) I've not bothered to do in six months and he hasn't noticed. There were reservations at Le Bonheur Éphémère and then we were supposed to go dancing. I thought we'd end the night with me pressed up against a wall, biting his palm to keep from screaming as we desperately tried not to get caught... like we used to.

Instead it was takeout sandwiches and soup, nearly a bottle of wine by myself (hah! correction, a whole bottle of wine), and washing my make-up off my face before it had a chance to be properly ruined. It was four unanswered text messages, stealing his shirt to sleep in so I can actually go to sleep, and Pounce curled up next to me with his ears twitching expectantly every time he thinks he hears Anders in the hallway.

And now it's going to sleep without him because I can't hold my eyes open and I've had to delete random text from this post at least half a dozen times.

I hope the idiot at least enjoys his sandwich.



[A sticky note awaiting Anders on the bathroom mirror with a handwritten message.]

I'm glad you enjoyed your sandwich.

[Another sticky note awaiting Anders on the empty milk jug with a handwritten message.]

We're out of milk.



[A series of direct messages between users @DeathbyAricock and @MageFights styled to look like Discord's dark mode. ]

[@DeathbyAricock's Avatar: A drawing of young white woman with black hair cut into a long pixie cut swept to the left. She has dark cyan colored eyes. She wears a red and black plaid collared shirt over a black t-shirt. The background is transparent, except for a purple circle centered behind her. Her expression is neutral.]

[@MageFights' Avatar: A sketchy drawing of a young white man with brown eyes and long, dirty blond hair tied back in a loose ponytail. He is smirking. He has realistic-style white cat ears on top of his head in addition to his human ears. His left human ear is adorned with a gold-triangle earring. He's wearing a dark teal collared, button-up shirt over a dark gold t-shirt. The background is a solid light blue.]

[@DeathbyAricock's Avatar] DeathbyAricock [Timestamp] Yesterday at 11:45 PM
Go to sleep, Anders

 

[A line indicating a new day with a day month year timestamp. The year is in Dragon Age-style formatting.] 6 Kingsway 9:44

 

[@MageFights' Avatar] MageFights [Timestamp] Today at 7:02 AM
He's mad at me.

[@DeathbyAricock's Avatar] DeathbyAricock [Timestamp] Today at 7:03 AM
What makes you think that?

[@MageFights' Avatar] MageFights [Timestamp] Today at 7:15 AM
The passive aggressive sticky note he left on the empty milk carton. he left cereal out for breakfast.

[@DeathbyAricock's Avatar] DeathbyAricock [Timestamp] Today at 7:17 AM
Ohhhhh, he's got skills.
What time did you get home?

[@MageFights' Avatar] MageFights [Timestamp] Today at 7:32 AM
Almost 11.

[@DeathbyAricock's Avatar] DeathbyAricock [Timestamp] Today at 7:32 AM
[Animated gif of a young black man smiling in visible confusion. Small black question marks appear in random order surrounding him until a final large, bold, white question mark with a black outline appears covering his face.]
I say this in all seriousness... bloody how?

[@MageFights' Avatar] MageFights [Timestamp] Today at 7:35 AM
I lost track of time.

[@DeathbyAricock's Avatar] DeathbyAricock [Timestamp] Today at 7:35 AM
There's "lost track of time" and then there's... whatever this is. How do you forget about your boyfriend?


[@MageFights' Avatar] MageFights [Timestamp] Today at 7:38 AM
I didn't forget about him.
But...
I think I forgot our anniversary.
Maker... I'm terrible.
I don't deserve him.

[@DeathbyAricock's Avatar] DeathbyAricock [Timestamp] Today at 7:40 AM
So what are you going to do to make it up to him?
I hear steak and blow jobs go over well.

[@DeathbyAricock's Avatar] DeathbyAricock [Timestamp] Today at 7:55 AM
Anders? Did you die because I mentioned blow jobs?

[@MageFights' Avatar] MageFights [Timestamp] Today at 8:38 AM
Yes. You have injured my virginal sensibilities. [yellow-faced eye-rolling emoji]
I was driving.



[An email window.]

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RESPONSE REQUESTED: Your Assignment

Warden Anders,

I hope you realize not replying to my emails will not prevent your reassignment from the civilian research team back to the Wardens from occurring. At this time, they've not extended the project, and you will be expected to report to Weisshaupt in exactly two months. Failure to do so will result in your being classified as AWOL.

Now that the official message has been transmitted, I have to tell you, as your friend... I'm worried. I know you've come to enjoy your time in Kirkwall and that you'd rather not be reassigned, but you can't simply ignore this and hope it goes away. We all want a cure as much as you do, but if the project is a dead end you have to walk away. We can't keep pouring resources into something that's not mutually beneficial.

You have to know when to cut your losses.

And maybe now is the time to tell your boyfriend you're a Warden on loan. You can't possibly know he'll refuse to come with you if you never talk about it. What are you planning on doing? Moving away while he's sleeping? Or are you hoping for some miraculous last minute breakthrough which results in the project being extended?

Call me when you've read this. Or do us both a favor and reply formally.


Warden Commander Greer Cousland
Commander of the Grey
Fereldan Grey Wardens



[A series of text messages to a contact labeled Dorian.]

[Timestamp] Today 1:33 PM
  Anders: I'm sorry about last night. I didn't realize the date.
  Dorian: It's fine.
  Anders: Marian says I owe you steak and a blow job to make it up to you.
  Dorian: Does she?

[Timestamp] Today 1:41 PM
  Dorian: It's okay. It's not as if it is our real anniversary.
  Dorian: Not that I'm turning down a blow job.
  Dorian: If you're so inclined.

[Timestamp] Today 2:21 PM
  Anders: And the steak?
  Dorian: Am I to assume you'll be home on time?

[Timestamp] Today 2:26 PM
  Anders: I will.

[Timestamp] Today 3:02 PM
  Dorian: Then make it Antivan take out and a bottle of wine.
  Anders: As you desire, my love.

 



[A group direct message session styled to look like Instagram DMs. The top of the chat is labeled "Felix, Mae". Small round user icons for Felix and Mae are displayed to the left of the chat label. Felix's avatar has a light purple background and is a cartoon-style drawing of himself - a young man with black hair and brown eyes - sticking his tongue out. He wears a grey shirt with pink flowers on it. He is holding a boba tea in his left hand, and has added a cat ears and whiskers filter to the image. Mae's avatar is an image of a woman with wavy blond shoulder-length hair and blue eyes staring intensely into the camera. She has winged eyeliner, red lipstick, and is wearing a white top which exposes her shoulders and a layered gold necklace. The background is of a trans pride flag.]


[Timestamp] 6:00pm
  Dorian: I think he's cheating on me.
  Mae: Don't be ridiculous.
  Mae: He is NOT cheating on you.
  Dorian: What makes you say that?
  Felix: Have you seen you? Only an idiot would cheat on you.
  Dorian: History refutes that assertion.
  Mae: Felix is right, dear.
  Mae: By all accounts your current paramour is tall, dashing, brilliant, funny... perfect in every way save one...
  Mae: He's not Thorold.
  Mae: So what... exactly... makes you think he's cheating on you?
  Dorian: Late nights at work.
  Dorian: Lots of them
  Dorian: Forgetting to call, text. He forgot our anniversary.
  Dorian: He hides his phone from me.
  Dorian: We haven't had sex in ages.
  Dorian: I can't remember the last time he even held my hand.
  Dorian: And now... when he's supposed to be making up our missed anniversary with me, he can't seem to put his phone down!
  Dorian: Every time his phone vibrates he immediately looks.
  Felix: You're messaging us.

 



[A blog entry, written by user @neck_romancer, who uses a circular purple icon of a glowing skeleton with wings - the Dragon Age Inquisition symbol for the necromancy spell Simulacrum.] The wine had gone warm. by [Avatar] @NECK_ROMANCER

We fought. It's not the first time, of course, but it is the first time my throat is raw and my eyes feel like they're filled with sand and he looked at me like that with his big hazel eyes full of tears.

He texted to apologize, and he offered me steak and a blow job and I countered with Antivan take-out and wine, because I didn't want to make it too easy for him. He came home on time, which was a good start, but he was distracted and distant. Every time his phone went off he was rushing to check the notification, typing away to someone, the frown lines on his face getting more intense. And finally, finally I just blurted out, "you're cheating on me, aren't you?"

"I could never," he whispered with this horrified expression on his face. "What makes you think that?"

And I don't know why, but I just... I started with what was happening right there, right then; how he wasn't looking me in the eye, and he was busy typing to someone else and he'd hardly spoken since he'd walked in with takeout. He started trying to explain it away and I just... Maker, I got so angry at the deflection, at the fact he's been lying and I know he's been lying. I started screaming at him. Every little grievance that had piled up over the last few months - the time he forgot to put my socks in the drier and the one when he didn't save the last piece of chocolate to split; every time he'd come home late, forgotten to do some mundane task or to help me with something I needed help with. Every single time I'd had to wrap up his dinner or clean up some mess his cat had made. Everything - even the stuff that didn't make me that angry after all - like the fact he'd forgotten to pick up milk just a couple of days ago.

He just stood there taking it, until he eventually shouted, "ENOUGH. I GET IT." He was quiet for a long time before he whispered, "who - exactly - do you think I'm cheating on you with?"

I didn't have an answer for that. Not really, but I answered with the first thing that popped into my mind. "Her! With... with Marian!" He blinked at me and.... the bastard started laughing. Laughing!

"She has a boyfriend," he said as he tried to catch his breath, "and trust me, when I say I wouldn't measure up." And then he laughed some more. He laughed until it seemed like he couldn't laugh - couldn't feel - any longer and then he just... he sat back on the sofa. Defeated. I didn't know what to do or say. I don't think it's her. I never thought it was her. I don't know who I thought it was. But then he whispered, "I'm not cheating on you, Dorian. But I am hiding... something. I can't.... I can't tell you right now, I need-" I noticed his hands shaking then, and I barely stopped myself from reaching for him to comfort him; wanting to do that made me angrier. "A day. Just one more day. I'll tell you tomorrow."

I didn't know what to say, couldn't figure it out, but I knew I couldn't deny him one day. So I nodded and I sat back down on the sofa. We sat there until the wine had gone warm and unfinished, and we finally came to bed.

He's looking at me now, with those eyes so distraught, and the question he asked minutes ago is still hanging in the air, "can I hold you?" I don't want to give in. He's hiding something from me, and he doesn't deserve to touch me until I know what it is. But Andraste preserve me, I don't want to spend another night without being in his arms. I'm going to give in.



[An email window with an email from "ser pets a lot" to "neck_romancer".]

 

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: I don't know…

I asked for a day, but the... the longer the day has gone on, the more I can't bring myself to do this in person. I owe you an explanation, I know that. But I just..... I can't... see your disappointment.

When we met, this was just supposed to be a random fling in the bathroom of a club. You were a one-time deal, a hot guy who I was lucky enough to shag for a quickie. And then it... it was so much more than that, and by the time I realized it, it felt... too late to tell you... too late to explain who and what I really am.

I am a Grey Warden. On loan, currently, to the Kirkwall Circle, desperately working to find a cure for the Blight, a way to stave off the darkness that is crawling underneath my skin turning me into a mindless creature. I didn't know how to tell you, how to make you understand that you'd fallen in love with a dead man, a walking corpse with no future.

What... what could I possibly give you? What could I possibly have to offer, but dragging you all over the continent, from one post to another, with no hope of a happily ever after? How could you possibly want that? You don't. You don’t want all the ugliness I’m going to bring into your life; you deserve better.

My assignment here ends next month. I've been trying to figure out how to tell you, and I've been putting it off to work myself to death with the hopes I could find some breakthrough to help convince someone somewhere to extend the project longer, so I could stay here with you. I told myself... I told myself as soon as it was extended, I'd tell you the truth, let you decide if you wanted to stay together or not. But I just.... I wanted a few more weeks before I did it. It was selfish. I'm sorry.

Your support has meant more than I can say. I wish we could stay like this forever, love, but I... I know that isn't likely now.

I will always love you, Dorian.



[A series of text messages to a contact labeled Dorian.]

[Timestamp] Today 1:48 PM
  Dorian: You're an idiot.
  Anders: I know.

[Timestamp] Today 1:57 PM
  Anders: I'm sorry.

[Timestamp] Today 2:11 PM
  Dorian: I'll go with you. Of course. We'll figure this out together.
  Anders: But your position at the Circle...
  Dorian: I have heard rumor there are other Circles.

[Timestamp] Today 4:13 PM
  Anders: You don't have to come with me.
  Dorian: I know I don't HAVE to. I want to.
  Anders: No. No. I mean, the project was extended.
  Anders: I'm staying here. In Kirkwall.

[Timestamp] Today 4:21 PM
  Dorian: Ah. Shame. I was rather fancying the idea of running off into the sunset with you.



[A journaling app screen called Journal.me. It appears to be an offline app, stored on a local device. The tags and mood metadata are light grey to indicate they are optional, while the date and title are black to indicate they are required.]

date: 13 Kingsway 9:44, 10:17pm
title: One day I'll title a journal entry something useful.
tags: dorian, relationships, i'm an idiot
mood: [yellow emoji face with straight lines for eyes and a straight line mouth] meh

The project was extended. Dorian didn't leave me. He says he wants to come with me if and when I'm reassigned to a new post. Things should be perfect. It's what I wanted; it's what I've been begging the Maker for.

But I keep seeing the way he looked at me when he said I was cheating on him - with bloody Marian of all people. He doesn't trust me, and maybe that's justified. But he doesn't trust me because I'm bi. I don't... I don't know what to do with that. If that's the case he'll never trust me. I will always be someone who can be tempted by twice as many people as he can, and he'll always be waiting for my betrayal.

That's not sustainable. It's only a matter of time before he gets tired of it, gets tired of me and all the pain I bring to his life. I guess... I should just be happy with the time we've got.