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o hai.

This is my tumblr.

pocket!Quinntus icon/avatar by uncreativeart.

Um I usually go by 'Rhea' online so you can refer to me as that, or LL, or Liquid, or Lyrium, or LiquidLyrium or whatever I guess.


This blog is also [often] very NSFW. (And homoerotic.)

You have been warned. Links of import:
SO LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT QUINNTUS HAWKE :U

Quinntus Hawke References

My Fanarts and doodles

My fanfics and drabbles

The Tome of Devastation

[[A short story about the first weapon of mass destruction in Thedas. Entirely silly, and hope that it cheers some people up who need cheering up. Yes I know it’s more shameless Quinnris indulgence, but I promise it is silly and upbeat.]]

======

It was a book that was never supposed to see daylight.


The pages had been written down solely for the sake of preserving what little sanity one surface-loving dwarf had left. After telling so many stories, his relationship with reality was understandably tenuous at times.

Varric was a good man, a better friend, and the most roguishly handsome creature to walk on two legs that he’d ever met. Yes, if he said so himself, Varric Tethras was all-in-all, the best thing to happen to Kirkwall. Why, how many poor souls did he help simply by listening to their woes? Some people (less charitable than him) might have mistaken this for simply being nosy or enterprising, but Varric did everything from the goodness of his heart. And for the goodness of his pocketbook.

Still, though he considered himself a Paragon of patience, Varric could only stand to listen to so much woe from any one man. And it was one man. And, yes, it was so much woe.

In hindsight, everything had been his fault. He’d been the one to introduce them. Rather, Varric had been the one to find the job that led to the circumstances of the two men meeting.

Yes, six years (give or take) of suffering had been entirely the dwarf’s own fault.

If he hadn’t passed along Anso’s letter, then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be hiding in a rotted-out barrel in a cove down on the Wounded Coast.

Maybe he’d be in his own (not so little) suite at the Hanged Man, feet propped up by the fire and a tankard of ale in hand, instead of sitting in a puddle of brackish water on top of a wide, broken-off stalagmite—as he’d finally learned the difference.

He could only hope Hawke wouldn’t find him.

Read More

13 notes6.142:02 AM

Of Endings and Eternity

Varric has already considered several endings for them all, but he has yet to sit and write any of them down. In some ways, it is a daunting task, more nerve wracking and momentous than facing down a dragon or a lyrium-crazed Knight-Commander. 'You see,' Varric narrates in his own head, Endings are the most important part of any story. An ending determines what the story becomes. Is it tragedy or triumph? Is it ‘henceforth they lived happily on’? Or is it an unpleasant, ignominious end?

Varric already has an ending for those two, in particular, penned out, written in his head, it’s just a matter of finding time to write a proper appendix—or appendices—to the Champion’s story. A difficult thing to do, considering that the dwarf is always on the move now, searching for the best stories, even if they do take him to Antivan swamps and assassin-operated prisons, or back to the sodding Deep Roads. 

Still, in the moments he has to himself, between life-threatening crises, he thinks of what an appropriate ending to their story would be.

He’s a soft, sentimental fool, underneath the pragmatic, shrewd exterior and the pathological lies, especially when it comes to friends. Especially these friends. It’s not really an ending at all, more of a wish for the both of them.

Read More

6 notes6.92:16 PM

someothermiles:

Oh, Lord. 

Fenris had almost made it to the door before he heard shifting from Hawke’s bed. If he was a smart man, he would have kept on going. He wouldn’t have stopped, but he did, hesitating in the doorway. 

"Oh, you aren’t staying this morning?" The question was asked lightly, not quite carelessly—the charismatic man playing the near innocent with perfect guile.

The elf swallowed hard and turned around slowly to face the man, almost fearfully. The sight that greeted him tested his resolve. Hawke was leaning against the headboard carelessly, sheets pooled at his waist. And there was an empty space, the perfect size for an elf to tuck himself into, right beside him. Fenris managed to find his voice, “Regrettably, no, I must keep my appointment with the smith this time.”

Hawke started to trace his finger idly along the florid carving of the wood, but it was the motions of the man’s stomach as he breathed that drew Fenris’s attention.

"That’s too bad," Hawke said conversationally. Fenris swallowed again as a bare knee peeked above the rumpled bedclothes. "I had hoped you’d stay for breakfast," his tone was still too casual, too guile-less to be believed. 

Fenris attempted to school his features into severity rather than open hunger, “Hawke…” 

The rogue grinned briefly, ignoring the warning, “Mmm, well, if you leave I suppose I’ll just have to attend to my own needs.”

"Hawke—!" Fenris said the name sharply, but he choked on his words as the man slid his hand down his chest, down his stomach, under the sheets. 

"Mmm," the Champion of Kirkwall hummed ponderously, nearly ignoring his lover as he slowly fondled himself under the covers. Fenris stood in the doorway, his hand gripping the door frame tightly enough that the wood creaked under his hold.

Fenris could neither move, nor look away as Quinntus started pleasuring himself, two hands now working at a very serious erection. He groaned when the man looked up at him, his eyes dark and beckoning. Fenris could only cling to the door frame. He knew there was something important he needed to do, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what

Quinntus gave him a crooked half smile, and then rolled onto his stomach, groaning happily and thrusting shamelessly against the mattressThis was Fenris’s breaking point. He growled out a series of dark oaths in Arcanum, cursing Hawke with several unkind and unflattering sentiments as he kicked the door shut with his heel. He was still glowering and cursing as he shucked off his armor and threw his clothes onto the floor. It was less than a full minute before the elf was naked and attempting to slick his cock with oil and press a finger into Hawke at the same time. Fenris growled fiercely against the nape of his lover’s neck. 

You.. are… impossible!” he hissed quietly, adding a bite for good measure. Quinntus just let out a breathy laugh into the sheets—cut off by a gasp when the elf’s finger found its way inside. Fenris bit his lover’s ear sharply and growled a few more curses against the man’s neck. 

Fenris’s curses soon turned into grunts and groans—joined with the delicious gasps and cries of the man trapped beneath him.

Later.. Fenris would scold the man later about not letting him keep appointments. 

But much later.

12,852 notes3.218:12 AM
autumnyte:

brushfiredaisies:

Hug numero Quatro
For you Weavile baby…. (too forward there?) haha
Fenris and M!Hawke….. not really an embrace…. but ahhhh well….

Distractions (or Why it Took Fenris the Better Part of a Year to Finish In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi)
It was happening yet again. This time, Fenris only managed to read through a single page of Brother Genitivi’s meandering observations before he felt a pair of muscular arms encircle his shoulders from behind. His skin prickled at the familiar rasp of Garrett’s beard against his neck. 
“Hawke. If you persist with such… distractions, I shall never finish reading this.” Fenris sighed, but the catch in his voice belied his exasperation.  
“That book is dreadfully dull, anyway.” Garrett kissed a path up Fenris’s neck, then nibbled his ear. “Genitivi is too bloody verbose. Look at the size of that tome. You could bludgeon someone to death with it.”
“Hmm. Continue to interrupt me, and I may be tempted to explore that possibility,” Fenris muttered. But despite his half-hearted protest, he couldn’t fight the smirk that tugged at his lips. He tilted his head sideways, exposing more of his neck.
With a chuckle, Garrett hugged him closer and whispered, “I have reason to suspect you enjoy these distractions. Why else would you insist upon using my study to read? I’ve offered on several occasions to let you take that book home with you. And it’s been years since you actually needed my assistance with the text.”
Fenris felt heat creep into his cheeks. He cleared his throat. “I suppose… you are not entirely mistaken. But the continued delay does place me in a rather awkward position. Varric recommended this book months ago, and he routinely inquires about my progress. How am I to explain that I still cannot offer an opinion, because I have yet to complete the first chapter?” 
Garrett stepped around to face Fenris, taking the book, shutting it, and setting it down on the desk beside them. He cupped his lover’s face in his hands and smiled. “Next time Varric asks about it, just tell him you’ve found something more compelling to… bury yourself in—for the foreseeable future.” 

Ohhh Dat last line.
"Next time Varric asks about it, just tell him you’ve found something more compelling to… bury yourself in—for the foreseeable future."
UNF.

autumnyte:

brushfiredaisies:

Hug numero Quatro

For you Weavile baby…. (too forward there?) haha

Fenris and M!Hawke….. not really an embrace…. but ahhhh well….

Distractions (or Why it Took Fenris the Better Part of a Year to Finish In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi)

It was happening yet again. This time, Fenris only managed to read through a single page of Brother Genitivi’s meandering observations before he felt a pair of muscular arms encircle his shoulders from behind. His skin prickled at the familiar rasp of Garrett’s beard against his neck. 

Hawke. If you persist with such… distractions, I shall never finish reading this.” Fenris sighed, but the catch in his voice belied his exasperation.  

“That book is dreadfully dull, anyway.” Garrett kissed a path up Fenris’s neck, then nibbled his ear. “Genitivi is too bloody verbose. Look at the size of that tome. You could bludgeon someone to death with it.”

“Hmm. Continue to interrupt me, and I may be tempted to explore that possibility,” Fenris muttered. But despite his half-hearted protest, he couldn’t fight the smirk that tugged at his lips. He tilted his head sideways, exposing more of his neck.

With a chuckle, Garrett hugged him closer and whispered, “I have reason to suspect you enjoy these distractions. Why else would you insist upon using my study to read? I’ve offered on several occasions to let you take that book home with you. And it’s been years since you actually needed my assistance with the text.”

Fenris felt heat creep into his cheeks. He cleared his throat. “I suppose… you are not entirely mistaken. But the continued delay does place me in a rather awkward position. Varric recommended this book months ago, and he routinely inquires about my progress. How am I to explain that I still cannot offer an opinion, because I have yet to complete the first chapter?” 

Garrett stepped around to face Fenris, taking the book, shutting it, and setting it down on the desk beside them. He cupped his lover’s face in his hands and smiled. “Next time Varric asks about it, just tell him you’ve found something more compelling to… bury yourself in—for the foreseeable future.” 

Ohhh Dat last line.

"Next time Varric asks about it, just tell him you’ve found something more compelling to… bury yourself in—for the foreseeable future."

UNF.


71 notes2.259:12 PM
autumnyte:

spicyshimmy:

frikadeller:

No excuse whatsoever other than people (and I) were suddenly talking about Hawke in laces and corset and garter. 
Some references from google used since what is anatomy and I’m sure it’s still messed up hahahahahaha.

hawke can’t help but feel he’s doing a great disservice to national fereldan pride—which he carries with him to this day, one of the few unassailable mementos from the other side of the amaranthine ocean—when the items from orlais show up. it’s not fair that only aveline got to have an orlesian honeymoon, after all. (‘you…bought those for yourself?’ fenris asks, not the first time he’s ever lingered in a doorway, but hopefully the first time for this reason. ‘no, i bought them for varric,’ hawke replies, ‘but they were a bit tight on him, and i didn’t want to waste them.’)


This… I… yeah.  No words. None whatsoever. Because Garrett Hawke in a corset. Frika, you are amazing, woman. I can’t.
Then this ficlet—Shimmy, I adore the way you capture Garrett’s sense of humor. I can just picture Fenris lingering in that doorway, too, and how quickly his trademark smirk might vanish and be replaced with a very different sort of expression. ♥  


oh goooood that body and just.. just the gorgeous DETAILS on the pretty underthings 8/D I I hasdf;lkajsd;fisjdg;laksdfjasr;ge

And then Fenris is all:

And Garrett grins:

autumnyte:

spicyshimmy:

frikadeller:

No excuse whatsoever other than people (and I) were suddenly talking about Hawke in laces and corset and garter. 

Some references from google used since what is anatomy and I’m sure it’s still messed up hahahahahaha.

hawke can’t help but feel he’s doing a great disservice to national fereldan pride—which he carries with him to this day, one of the few unassailable mementos from the other side of the amaranthine ocean—when the items from orlais show up. it’s not fair that only aveline got to have an orlesian honeymoon, after all. (‘you…bought those for yourself?’ fenris asks, not the first time he’s ever lingered in a doorway, but hopefully the first time for this reason. ‘no, i bought them for varric,’ hawke replies, ‘but they were a bit tight on him, and i didn’t want to waste them.’)

This… I… yeah.  No words. None whatsoever. Because Garrett Hawke in a corset. Frika, you are amazing, woman. I can’t.

Then this ficlet—Shimmy, I adore the way you capture Garrett’s sense of humor. I can just picture Fenris lingering in that doorway, too, and how quickly his trademark smirk might vanish and be replaced with a very different sort of expression. ♥  

oh goooood that body and just.. just the gorgeous DETAILS on the pretty underthings 8/D I I hasdf;lkajsd;fisjdg;laksdfjasr;ge

And then Fenris is all:

And Garrett grins:

1,418 notes2.2511:32 AM

Giflet: Not the Last

autumnyte:

“Nothing is going to keep me from you,” Fenris said, his voice rough with emotion. 

Garrett opened his mouth to return the sentiment, but before he had time enough to blink, Fenris threw strong, slender arms around his neck and pulled him closer. They kissed fiercely, clinging to one another in a tight embrace.  

The situation they faced was dire, and Garrett knew it. He tried not to think that this might be the last time their lips would ever touch, the last time he would hold Fenris’s body against his own. 

Instead, his memory drifted back to their very first kiss. 

Read More

AHHH I LOVE DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS <3 <3 <3

*Wants moar giflets*

Also dat armor 8D

37 notes1.306:10 PM
draggy-s:

elenilote:

aivopesty:

I had a dream of this beautiful, dark skinned nomad-princess last night. I MIGHT have to explain something… I doodled some “warpaint” as a joke (namely the lips and some blush on the cheeks) and Niuniente and Blueberrypoison insisted over Livestream that I leave them on. Honestly, I wasn’t going to, but… After an hour or two he kinda looked naked without them and I thought I’d do them properly, just because. HAHAHA, sorry guys, I chickened and edited the lipstick out after you went to sleep!
Here are details, lineart and lipstick version.

(((Arrghghghhhhh sorry about this but I had to write it!!!!!!)))
Garrett licked his lips nervously, trying in vain to calm himself. But it wasn’t every day that a man was getting married. And to someone he’d never met, he’d won the hand of his bride by defeating the war chief of some obscure nomadic tribe in single combat. He didn’t think they’d make him marry the girl as a prize! He hadn’t had the chance to explain that the reason he objected to marrying her was…well, somewhat complicated. He didn’t object to marriage per se, just to marrying a girl…he hadn’t kissed one - let alone taken one to his bed - since he had been fifteen…
He paced the floor of his tent with increasingly frayed nerves, the wedding was to be tomorrow but the tribe’s tradition dictated that the bride and groom-to-be get to know one another the night before, in case of any incompatibilities the wedding could still be called off. Garrett couldn’t think of any graceful way of refusing the marriage without causing a serious diplomatic incident and possibly scarring the poor girl for life with his rejection in the process. 
There were light footsteps outside his tent and a shadow outlined outside the entrance. Garrett took a deep breath and drew himself up to full height, squaring his shoulders in preparation. 
“Come in,” he called softly, “please,” he added as an afterthought.
The tent was dimly lit with lamps hanging in the ceiling so he couldn’t see clearly what his new bride looked like. But she was swathed head-to-toe in a doe-coloured robe, overlaid with innumerable colourful scarves with long fringes, he could hear a soft jingle of jewelry and clicking of beads - bare feet peeked from under the hem of the robe. Her face was covered in a scarf, leaving only a strip of caramel-coloured skin with dark brows and piercing green eyes visible. 
Those eyes…they seemed to look directly into Garrett’s soul - making him cough nervously and shift his weight from one foot to the other.
“Umm…I apologise, I have no idea of the rituals and traditions involved here so…if you can just tell me what you expect of me and things will probably go a lot smoother?” there was a tremor to his voice, he hoped fervently she wasn’t the type to defer to him for instructions - he didn’t bloody have a clue what to do here!
A throaty laugh escaped from behind the scarf, a delicate hand - tattooed with white ink? - reached to pull it down to reveal a fine-boned face, a sensual mouth and high cheekbones. As he stepped closer, Garrett could see the red paint over her eyes, dangling golden earrings and a tiny stud in the side of her nose…and stopped. She was quite clearly he. 
Well. That made a lot more sense now. The awkward formality of everyone involved, how they had insisted that everything happen as soon as possible. They were afraid he would reject his ‘bride’ after finding out the truth. 
The green eyes wore a defiant look and the chief’s son - for surely this was him - looked Garrett straight in the eyes and waited silently for a reaction from him. Biting his lip, this time with a wholly different set of nerves, Garrett stepped closer and cupped the young man’s face in his hands and kissed him gently on the painted lips. 
“You are beautiful,” he breathed as he pulled away. “So very, very beautiful. And I cannot wait to see what you are wearing under that robe…I cannot tell you what a relief it is to me that you are not the chief’s daughter after all, she could not have been half as enticing as you…”

FFFF reblogged again for story

HEFFFFFFFfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff DAT STORY
*fanning self*

draggy-s:

elenilote:

aivopesty:

I had a dream of this beautiful, dark skinned nomad-princess last night. I MIGHT have to explain something… I doodled some “warpaint” as a joke (namely the lips and some blush on the cheeks) and Niuniente and Blueberrypoison insisted over Livestream that I leave them on. Honestly, I wasn’t going to, but… After an hour or two he kinda looked naked without them and I thought I’d do them properly, just because. HAHAHA, sorry guys, I chickened and edited the lipstick out after you went to sleep!

Here are detailslineart and lipstick version.

(((Arrghghghhhhh sorry about this but I had to write it!!!!!!)))

Garrett licked his lips nervously, trying in vain to calm himself. But it wasn’t every day that a man was getting married. And to someone he’d never met, he’d won the hand of his bride by defeating the war chief of some obscure nomadic tribe in single combat. He didn’t think they’d make him marry the girl as a prize! He hadn’t had the chance to explain that the reason he objected to marrying her was…well, somewhat complicated. He didn’t object to marriage per se, just to marrying a girl…he hadn’t kissed one - let alone taken one to his bed - since he had been fifteen…

He paced the floor of his tent with increasingly frayed nerves, the wedding was to be tomorrow but the tribe’s tradition dictated that the bride and groom-to-be get to know one another the night before, in case of any incompatibilities the wedding could still be called off. Garrett couldn’t think of any graceful way of refusing the marriage without causing a serious diplomatic incident and possibly scarring the poor girl for life with his rejection in the process. 

There were light footsteps outside his tent and a shadow outlined outside the entrance. Garrett took a deep breath and drew himself up to full height, squaring his shoulders in preparation. 

“Come in,” he called softly, “please,” he added as an afterthought.

The tent was dimly lit with lamps hanging in the ceiling so he couldn’t see clearly what his new bride looked like. But she was swathed head-to-toe in a doe-coloured robe, overlaid with innumerable colourful scarves with long fringes, he could hear a soft jingle of jewelry and clicking of beads - bare feet peeked from under the hem of the robe. Her face was covered in a scarf, leaving only a strip of caramel-coloured skin with dark brows and piercing green eyes visible. 

Those eyes…they seemed to look directly into Garrett’s soul - making him cough nervously and shift his weight from one foot to the other.

“Umm…I apologise, I have no idea of the rituals and traditions involved here so…if you can just tell me what you expect of me and things will probably go a lot smoother?” there was a tremor to his voice, he hoped fervently she wasn’t the type to defer to him for instructions - he didn’t bloody have a clue what to do here!

A throaty laugh escaped from behind the scarf, a delicate hand - tattooed with white ink? - reached to pull it down to reveal a fine-boned face, a sensual mouth and high cheekbones. As he stepped closer, Garrett could see the red paint over her eyes, dangling golden earrings and a tiny stud in the side of her nose…and stopped. She was quite clearly he. 

Well. That made a lot more sense now. The awkward formality of everyone involved, how they had insisted that everything happen as soon as possible. They were afraid he would reject his ‘bride’ after finding out the truth. 

The green eyes wore a defiant look and the chief’s son - for surely this was him - looked Garrett straight in the eyes and waited silently for a reaction from him. Biting his lip, this time with a wholly different set of nerves, Garrett stepped closer and cupped the young man’s face in his hands and kissed him gently on the painted lips. 

“You are beautiful,” he breathed as he pulled away. “So very, very beautiful. And I cannot wait to see what you are wearing under that robe…I cannot tell you what a relief it is to me that you are not the chief’s daughter after all, she could not have been half as enticing as you…”

FFFF reblogged again for story

HEFFFFFFFfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff DAT STORY

*fanning self*

97 notes1.222:16 PM
autumnyte:

Can I make a confession? I actually love a lot of these wtffanfiction entries. And not just in a point-and-laugh sort of way. 
Like, this one is bloody brilliant. A bee’s dick. Bwah! In a million years, my imagination could never come up with that. 
I think it takes a lot of courage to insert original, unique metaphors into your writing. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, but there’s something about the risk itself that I have to sit back and admire.
So, anyway, yeah. I see these scroll past on my dash and everyone’s like “hahaha, how hilariously bad” and I’m over here thinking, ‘hey, that’s kind of awesome’.  *crawls under a rock*


"There&#8217;s a lesson to be learned here," Varric said, holstering Bianca "messing with us is suicidal." The dwarf rolled one of the bodies over with his boot. "Tch, just some Coterie thugs. Maybe Gallard&#8217;s still mad about that card game with Blondie and that hat he wants."
Anders flinched where he stood, hands resting on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, &#8220;Did you&#8230; really&#8230; have to mention that?&#8221;
Isabela pursed her lips and crossed her arms, &#8220;Is it just me or are we missing someone? Specifically two someones?&#8221;
Varric looked around, but the only other bodies he could see were the ones they had felled. Varric cursed loudly, &#8220;Son of a nug-rutting bitch! Those two snuck off again?&#8221;
Anders leaned against his staff heavily, &#8220;Didn&#8217;t you.. didn&#8217;t you notice? I couldn&#8217;t cast as many offensive spells because I had to focus on keeping the both of you alive.&#8221;
Isabela huffed out an annoyed sigh, &#8220;It&#8217;s bad enough they won&#8217;t let me join in, the least they could do is stick around so I could watch!&#8221;
"Ancestors," Varric groused "It&#8217;s gonna take us all night to get to the docks if they keep doing this! Some of us need our beauty sleep."
"I think I saw them duck through there," Anders said slowly, gingerly pointing towards a nearby blind alley.
"Rivaini, you have no scruples about this sort of thing&#8212;see if it&#8217;s safe to interrupt them." Anders rubbed his forehead. He could feel the beginnings of a headache.
Isabela smirked and went to peek around the corner of the narrow alleyway. It was dark, and the two figures were a good distance away, but she recognized Fenris and their fearless leader entwined amidst the shadows cast by the swelling moon overhead.
"Well?" Varric prompted her, standing to one side, facing in the opposite direction of the side street. "What are they doing?"
The pirate smirked, &#8220;D&#8217;you want specifics or just the general picture? I&#8217;d have to get out my spyglass I think, to get any really good detail.&#8221;
Anders shuddered, &#8220;Just the general idea please.&#8221;
"Seconded, Rivaini."
"Oh you two are no fun," Isabela pouted looking back into the rather lengthy alleyway. She cheerfully described the scene, "Mm, well, Fenris has our dear Quinntus pinned against the wall, Hawke seems to have misplaced his tongue in the elf&#8217;s mouth, and there&#8217;s less than a bee&#8217;s dick of space between them."
Anders felt his face twist in revulsion. Varric shook his head, &#8220;You do have a way with words, don&#8217;t you Rivaini? C&#8217;mon Blondie. I&#8217;m outta here. Let&#8217;s go to the Hanged Man and play some Wicked Grace.&#8221;
Anders laughed ruefully, &#8220;Sure, why not? I could always use more Coterie thugs angling for my body parts. Maybe a finger this time, or my nose!&#8221;
"Suit yourselves," Isabela said leaning in to watch. She leaped backwards a moment later as a dagger flew wildly through the air towards her. It clattered to the ground. The pirate frowned and scooped up the knife. "Tch, some people are so sensitive!&#8221; She thrust the knife into her belt and went to catch up with Anders and Varric.
-
In the alleyway Fenris lifted his lips off of Hawke&#8217;s neck. He lifted one of his dark brows in question, &#8220;What was that?&#8221;
Quinntus grinned at him, &#8220;Nothing. Thought I saw a rat. It&#8217;s gone.&#8221;
"Hn," Fenris carefully traced Quinn&#8217;s lips with a point of a gauntleted finger. "Perhaps this would be best continued&#8230;elsewhere."
Hawke smirked happily, &#8220;Your place or mine?&#8221;
Fenris&#8217;s voice held just a touch of a possessive growl, &#8220;Mine.&#8221;

I could actually see Isabela saying that though XD

autumnyte:

Can I make a confession? I actually love a lot of these wtffanfiction entries. And not just in a point-and-laugh sort of way. 

Like, this one is bloody brilliant. A bee’s dick. Bwah! In a million years, my imagination could never come up with that. 

I think it takes a lot of courage to insert original, unique metaphors into your writing. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, but there’s something about the risk itself that I have to sit back and admire.

So, anyway, yeah. I see these scroll past on my dash and everyone’s like “hahaha, how hilariously bad” and I’m over here thinking, ‘hey, that’s kind of awesome’.  *crawls under a rock*

"There’s a lesson to be learned here," Varric said, holstering Bianca "messing with us is suicidal." The dwarf rolled one of the bodies over with his boot. "Tch, just some Coterie thugs. Maybe Gallard’s still mad about that card game with Blondie and that hat he wants."

Anders flinched where he stood, hands resting on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, “Did you… really… have to mention that?”

Isabela pursed her lips and crossed her arms, “Is it just me or are we missing someone? Specifically two someones?”

Varric looked around, but the only other bodies he could see were the ones they had felled. Varric cursed loudly, “Son of a nug-rutting bitch! Those two snuck off again?”

Anders leaned against his staff heavily, “Didn’t you.. didn’t you notice? I couldn’t cast as many offensive spells because I had to focus on keeping the both of you alive.”

Isabela huffed out an annoyed sigh, “It’s bad enough they won’t let me join in, the least they could do is stick around so I could watch!”

"Ancestors," Varric groused "It’s gonna take us all night to get to the docks if they keep doing this! Some of us need our beauty sleep."

"I think I saw them duck through there," Anders said slowly, gingerly pointing towards a nearby blind alley.

"Rivaini, you have no scruples about this sort of thing—see if it’s safe to interrupt them." Anders rubbed his forehead. He could feel the beginnings of a headache.

Isabela smirked and went to peek around the corner of the narrow alleyway. It was dark, and the two figures were a good distance away, but she recognized Fenris and their fearless leader entwined amidst the shadows cast by the swelling moon overhead.

"Well?" Varric prompted her, standing to one side, facing in the opposite direction of the side street. "What are they doing?"

The pirate smirked, “D’you want specifics or just the general picture? I’d have to get out my spyglass I think, to get any really good detail.”

Anders shuddered, “Just the general idea please.”

"Seconded, Rivaini."

"Oh you two are no fun," Isabela pouted looking back into the rather lengthy alleyway. She cheerfully described the scene, "Mm, well, Fenris has our dear Quinntus pinned against the wall, Hawke seems to have misplaced his tongue in the elf’s mouth, and there’s less than a bee’s dick of space between them."

Anders felt his face twist in revulsion. Varric shook his head, “You do have a way with words, don’t you Rivaini? C’mon Blondie. I’m outta here. Let’s go to the Hanged Man and play some Wicked Grace.”

Anders laughed ruefully, “Sure, why not? I could always use more Coterie thugs angling for my body parts. Maybe a finger this time, or my nose!”

"Suit yourselves," Isabela said leaning in to watch. She leaped backwards a moment later as a dagger flew wildly through the air towards her. It clattered to the ground. The pirate frowned and scooped up the knife. "Tch, some people are so sensitive!” She thrust the knife into her belt and went to catch up with Anders and Varric.

-

In the alleyway Fenris lifted his lips off of Hawke’s neck. He lifted one of his dark brows in question, “What was that?”

Quinntus grinned at him, “Nothing. Thought I saw a rat. It’s gone.”

"Hn," Fenris carefully traced Quinn’s lips with a point of a gauntleted finger. "Perhaps this would be best continued…elsewhere."

Hawke smirked happily, “Your place or mine?”

Fenris’s voice held just a touch of a possessive growl, “Mine.

I could actually see Isabela saying that though XD

1,652 notes10.147:55 AM

Out Having Tea with Mr. Tumnus: Freckles: DA2 AU RP inspired Ficlet For Anna »

elluvias:

It’s the freckles that drew him first. Sabriel’s small childlike fingers mapping his elder brother’s freckles as Quinn sits in the chair reading and Sabriel sits on the floor , his head resting in Quinn’s lap like some human shaped mabari. He doesn’t try to drag Quinn outside to play, Quinn…

Oh mai gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawd. Not my Quinntus, so the name kept throwing me but OH MAI GAWD 8D *screams* SO ADORBS

10.312:39 AM

Ghosts & Shadows, Part 1 of 5

momochanners:

An Akiva Hawke/Fenris ficlet

Story: ionsfolly

Art: momochanners

NSFW warning for mature content.

Read More

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

SO AMAZE SO AMAAAAAAAAAAAAAZE!!!! *FLAILS*

114 notes10.212:49 PM