foofyschmoofer

[foofyschmoofer]

Anyone else feel like it’s been one of those days since 2019?

[foofyschmoofer]

A Dwarf and his Crossbow

Okay. This was written for the @aromanceforthedragonages gift exchange for @threerattsinatrenchcoat. First of all, Special thanks to @foofyschmoofer for Beta-ing for me! Second, I know far too much about repeating crossbows now, and third, every single word was very deliberate to get the point across. Having one of the participants in these shenanigans not alive was a unique challenge and I'm happy to say I can add that to my smut writing bucket list and immediately cross it off :D. Also on AO3 if you prefer...

Varric takes time out of his busy schedule to give Bianca some much needed maintenance…

Varric hummed Bianca’s Song to himself as he puttered around his room, collecting a small length of cord, several bolts, four jars of varying size and a few tools, which to the untrained eye was just a bunch of junk, but to those closest to him, it was Bianca’s maintenance day. Every four weeks, like clockwork, he set aside a day just to pamper his best girl and give her his undivided attention—if he would devote the same energy and diligence to his writing, his publisher would be ecstatic. Hawke had walked in on them once upon a time and had immediately peeled out of the room, not wanting to interrupt such an…intimate moment—though that hadn’t stopped them from needling him about it every chance they got afterwards; constantly asking if they should leave him and Bianca alone. He didn’t see what the problem was; so what if he enjoyed maintaining her? Bianca was his baby, and he wanted to keep her in pristine condition, particularly after the cocking ring misalignment incident back in Kirkwall. His embarrassment that Sebastian had noticed it before he did, would not be replicated ever again.

Though Choir Boy was a fellow archer, so maybe he could cut himself a little slack—just not where Bianca’s maintenance was concerned. Especially since she’d been slow to fire in the field and he’d had a minor panic attack thinking his baby was done for—but then he noticed the worn string and dried rail lube. He really shouldn’t be surprised how often he fired her in the midst of the world saving endeavors he embarked upon on the regular, still joking that he was too old for this shit, and yet he did it anyways. And now Bianca needed a little tender love and care—she wasn’t as young and new as she once was. He ran his hand lovingly over every inch of the wood of her body, fingers tripping over a few deep scars, the reignited memories of all they’d been through together bringing a smile to his face as he made sure every nut and bolt was tight.

“That’s my girl. Nice and tight.” He purred, easing her into the crossbow press, to hold her arms and keep her still so he could expose the old worn string that needed replacing to his gaze. “Let’s get you ready for me.”

At this point it was second nature to remove the frayed cord and replace it and he finished quickly, fitting a brand new one in place and giving it a playful tug before picking up one of the small jars. He dipped his fingers into the substance within, massaging the wax over the pliant and willing new cord with his palm before replacing the serving as well. He always preferred a hands-on method to using a cloth because he liked to feel how Bianca responded to his touch and use that as a guide. The second bottle held a clear, odorless oil which he dipped a small pipette into, collecting a small amount, and placing a few drops of the rail lube very carefully so as not to get it on the rest of her body, and rubbing it in onto her rail in slow, even circles with his thumb.

Varric grinned at the sight of her glistening for him. “Look at you. Just beautiful.”

When he was sufficiently satisfied at how slick her track was, he moved to fill her bolt chamber with more arrows, having fired more than expected in the last fight. One hand closed around the cylinder, the other holding Bianca steady as he gave it a firm tug but the bolt chamber didn’t want to release, almost like she didn’t want to take a new load inside her. Varric clicked his tongue in dismay, tapping the side of the chamber with the head of a small hammer, hoping to loosen it enough to remove and oil it so it would slide back in smoothly.

“Naughty girl. Open up,” he muttered, shaking his head at her stubbornness and turning the crank on the crossbow press to tighten the restraints holding her in place.

Two fingers plunged into the cylinder, curling against her inner wall to strengthen his grip, tugging firmly enough he felt her relax and come apart under his touch. Sometimes he just had to show her who was in charge. He collected a handful of bolts and released them into the chamber, filling her. Varric chuckled and patted Bianca affectionately, oiling her up first—taking special care of all four arms—and then the cylinder, sliding it into place and pumping it back and forth a couple times to make sure it was lubed up correctly before flicking several latches and locking it back into place. She felt perfect, every part of her responding to his touch and he breathed a sigh of relief—she’d just been used too much lately and was feeling neglected.

“Just like that. You took that so well,” he cooed, teasing fingers stroking over her to rub the rest of her down with the wood polish.

All that was left was to double check his work. He picked her up, his grip sure and confident as he turned towards a shooting target he had set up in the corner of his room ages ago as he wrapped his hand around her handle, pressing a calloused finger to her trigger. Bianca shuddered to life, loosing an arrow into the dummy with a satisfying ‘thwack’ and an almost inaudible twang as the string snapped back into place, ready for the next time he fired her in combat. He loved the sounds she made. It was good to know that even after all these years, he still knew exactly what made her tick, responding to his touches so quickly and it made her such a pleasure to use.

“That was beautiful, Baby. Absolutely perfect.” He smiled softly as he gently lowered her onto a pillow, her performance earning her a brief respite while he got himself cleaned up before they charged back into the fray, the Inquisition’s work apparently never done.

[foofyschmoofer]

💌send this to the five nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get some back you must be pretty awesome 💌

🫶 right back at ya

[foofyschmoofer]

i like to imagine the act 1 kirkwall gang hanging out on those steps outside gamlen’s place for no reason. just sort of lounging and bickering

[foofyschmoofer]

has this been done yet?

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unfortunately The Character has now lived rent free in my head for so long they can claim squatters' rights

[foofyschmoofer]

In 1944 a kitten named George (short for General Electric) was saved from drowning by a U.S. Navy crew member. George was then photographed and given a liberty card and detailed health record. Source.

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there’s a class of anders fan or anders post that tries to love him “despite”, that tries to love him through forgiveness or understanding of his supposed wrongs. let me make it so clear that for me, blowing up the chantry is in fact one of anders best features and so hot of him

[foofyschmoofer]

I don’t think any movie will make me feel the same ethereal sense of otherworldly sorrow and disembodied awe as that scene in Lord of the Rings where the loyal son is sent off into a doomed battle to please his vindictive father while Pippin sings a mourning song of his people

I was like 12 and high off this shit

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[foofyschmoofer]

reblog to add +10 haunting power to your ghost when you die

[foofyschmoofer]

Nothing beats the feeling when you start getting comments on every fic in a fandom or ship from one person, and it’s clear that they’re going on a fic-binge. 

[foofyschmoofer]

actually now i’m curious

[foofyschmoofer]

I knew poinsettias "faked" having big flowers by just turning some leaves red but I didn't know the real tiny flowers in the middle looked like such idiots