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queenofbaws · 4 years ago

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DA2: Well...Shit - 2

Chapter: 2/3 Words: 5,489 Rating: T (Language) Summary: What are best friends FOR, if not pretending to date you so your mother will get off your back? Luckily for Hawke, she and Varric are pretty good at pretending to be in lo...oh. Oh no. Author’s note: Hey friendos! As usual, this one’s on AO3 too, and a link will be added later in the notes. I had SUCH good intentions of following up on this prompt from the wonderful @untouchable-face...but then COVID happened, and, well...shit. Right? Previous | Next ---

The moment she was jostled awake, Hawke made the executive decision to educate whoever had been responsible on the finer points of being a pincushion.

Points, ha.

Now to be fair, she’d only been half-asleep when she felt the nudge at her side, so it wasn’t as though they’d gone out of their way to shake her out of a dead slumber, but still, she had limits. Not many. Not a whole lot. But some.

And being woken up before her time to take watch? Being woken up before being able to recover from the day’s chaos? Pretty damn high up on that short, short list.

She scrubbed at her face with her hands and felt something peculiar happen as she did so. Namely, whoever’d just jabbed her awake shifted beside her, taking a good portion of the bedroll with them. Once she dropped her hands, the dim light of their makeshift tent was more than enough to show her the perpetrator.

“It’s your turn,” Varric grumbled, his voice slurred with exhaustion and the beginnings of sleep, turning his consonants into mush.

“My turn to what?” Hawke reached over to grab a corner of the blanket they’d been using only for Varric to bat her hand away without a second thought. “Hey!”

“Your turn to check on the children,” he continued in that same sleepy mumble, but oh, she was hardly fooled—there was just a bit too much amusement in his voice for her to buy that particular act. Beside her, Dog lifted his great head from the ground and let out a ‘boof!’ that managed to somehow sound very much like agreement.

A moment later, it finally clicked in her head what he’d said. The children?

The children.

Well, that explained it. The sun had gotten to him after all. The job had taken them much longer than anticipated, and there was something about the Wounded Coast that really just made the sunlight feel that much hotter, that much brighter, and her own face was aching with a burn she suspected would turn to peeling tomorrow, so obviously—

As though he could hear her thoughts, she watched Varric lift his arm, not pointing so much as vaguely gesturing towards the mouth of the tent. She turned that way, perplexed, and then rolled her eyes when she heard them.

“Oh for the love of—”

There was a rustling as Varric rolled onto his side, tucking himself deeper under the blanket. “Your turn,” he said again, voice taking on a singsong quality that was so familiar to her that she could hear the curve of his self-satisfied smirk even without being able to see it.

Now, it could not be said that her need for retribution was extinguished—it was not—but oh, oh did the target of her anger shift. Well. The targets. Plural. Really, given the distance between the tent and the fire, it was almost impressive that those two could be carrying on loud enough to wake them.

‘Almost,’ of course, being the operative word.

She took another second to let herself wake up before patting Dog’s head, muttering, “All right, c’mon then,” as she scratched his ears. The mabari seemed much less inclined towards vengeance, though, and after offering her a sleepy-eyed look, simply lowered his head onto the bedroll again. Hawke sighed and got to her knees, pushing her way through the flaps of the tent before brushing herself off and straightening up. “Traitor,” she yawned, “You call yourself a Fereldan…”

It couldn’t be said that they’d gone to great pains to camouflage themselves, but the Wounded Coast was the Wounded Coast, and when faced with the reality of bandits and Tal-Vashoth and giant spiders, they’d at least taken some precaution to keep from being seen. Precaution that Anders and Fenris had apparently chosen to throw to the wind. Per the usual.

Enough sleep still clouded her thoughts that she found it easier to focus on the crunching of the sand beneath her feet than their bickering. She’d heard it all before, anyway—Anders’s indignation, Fenris’s quick replies—save for the nouns, it was always more or less the same. Loud. Constant. Exhausting. Already she felt her patience waning, wanting nothing more than to climb back into the semi-darkness of the tent, to get even five more blasted minutes of rest, to set her head down on Varric’s shoulder and—

Just like that, she could hear Isabela’s snickering, feel the weight of Merrill’s eyes, and ughhh.

Well now she was awake. Okay, obviously she had to rein all that in…to focus on the task at hand.

As she approached them, there was a fleeing moment, beautiful though it was, where she imagined reaching over with both her hands and bringing their heads crashing together. It was a mental image she found herself entertaining more and more often those days, and now that she was sunburnt and sleep-deprived (and desperately searching for something to focus on other than the memory of Varric sleeping warm against her side), Andraste guide them, the impulse was stronger than ever.

“One good reason why I should show mercy and not sic my fearsome hound on the both of you.” She dropped herself into the sand between them with an unceremonious huff, looking first to one then to the other as she waited. For now, the head-smashing could wait. The very least she could do was give them a chance to shut their gobs of their own accord. A single chance. “One reason—that’s all I need! One reason why it would be wrong of me to string you up by your innards for ruining my much-needed beauty rest.”

As was so often the case, they spoke over each other, their answers muddling where they met in the middle. “Oh, there’s nothing ‘much-needed’ about it,” Anders said, a far-cry from Fenris’s “I would be interested to see you try, Hawke.”

She set her chin in her hands and stared for a moment, not at them (she didn’t need to look to know they’d be glaring daggers at one another), but at the fire instead, watching the sparks dance against the tar-black sky. “Neither of those are reasons not to murder you,” she sighed, “So I suppose you leave me no choice.”

“Here we go.”

“Such a confident tone for someone who will, in short order, be so much breakfast strewn about for the crabs.” She picked at her shirt, cringing at the way the salt and sweat and sand soaked into it chafed her skin. “Now perhaps that last smack to the head earlier tonight jostled things around, but I was so certain that we’d all agreed like big boys and girls that you two would be capable of handling first watch without poking each other’s eyes out.”

“Perhaps you miscounted, Hawke. No one’s missing any eyes.” Anders lowered his gaze to his waterskin, adding a prickly “Yet” before taking a long drink.

Running her hands down her face, she pulled at her cheeks until her fingers pressed divots into her skin. The head-smashing was looking more and more appealing by the moment. “There are times,” she began, craning her head back to stare at the stars as she dropped her hands to the ground once more, fingers digging into the top layer until they found the cool, damp sand beneath, “Where I find myself wondering whether the two of you have ever considered just…popping this bubble of unfathomable sexual tension that exists between you to see whether that might help ease some of the—”

At first, she couldn’t figure out what the sound was. It was so…so unfamiliar, so alien, that for a moment she thought perhaps she’d imagined it. A strange echoing of the waves beating against the shore? An animal caught in a trap somewhere nearby? A dying seabeast bellowing its last before it sank into the briny deep to feed its brethren? But when she looked around to try and find the source of it, she realized the answer was even stranger than that.

Fenris was laughing. He was laughing!

And he was laughing at her.

“Have I hit a sore spot?”

The last of his laughter curled up into a smirk, but she thought she could still see his shoulders shaking ever so slightly as he shrugged. “You might’ve,” Fenris drawled, and he must’ve been looking into the fire as he turned his attention away from her, because there was no way he was meeting Anders’s eyes like that. “But not mine.”

Oh, she was much too tired for this shit.

Hawke narrowed her eyes as she sized Fenris up for a moment longer…and found nothing resembling an explanation there. So she looked to Anders instead, wondering if maybe in her exhaustion she’d missed some joke, some entendre, she’d unintentionally made.

And only furthering her confusion, Anders looked away when her eyes fell on him, a smirk almost identical to Fenris’s tugging at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t say anything, not right away at least, but raised his shoulders in a shrug and flared his fingers out in a gesture that…well, now she knew she must’ve been too bleary-headed to make sense of things, because to her, that gesture sure seemed to be one of agreement. Agreement with Fenris. Agreement with Fenris. The gesture. Suggested. Anders. And Fenris. Were in. Agreement.

There was no longer any question in her mind that she needed to get back to sleep effective immediately.

“What?” Hawke asked, sitting up straighter amid a prickling suspicion Anders, too, was snickering at her. “What did I say?”

He shook his head, but the light of the fire left no room for uncertainty: He was doing a piss-poor job of reining in his own laughter, no question about it. “Nothing, nothing…” When he glanced away, it became clear at once that’d, impossible as it seemed, she’d been right before—he and Fenris were sharing some sort of look. “Just…an interesting accusation to level, that’s all.”

“Interesting?”

“Coming from you,” Fenris added under his breath.

Her eyes flicked between the two of them, and though there was a part of her (the rational part, she had to assume) that thought this lull in their squawking would be the perfect time to take a bow and take her leave, she found she couldn’t leave well enough alone. Never could, really. “Please serah, do go on.”

“Hawke, it’s really noth—”

“Speaking of sexual tension,” and oh, oh, the gleam in Fenris’s eye was just a little too much like the one she’d seen in Isabela’s back in the Hanged Man, “How is Varric doing? Didn’t wake him, did we?”

Had she been in possession of even a single whit of self-restraint, she probably could’ve kept her face from falling. What a dream that would’ve been. “There’s no se—for the last time. We are pretending to be involved so that my mother—”

“And what a performance you’re giving.”

Anders cleared his throat. It did not cover his snickering as well as he seemed to think it did.

Sunburn or no, Hawke felt her face heat up to the point of steaming. All at once she was very glad for the lateness of the hour, for the reddish-orange cast of the fire. At least it would keep them from seeing her turn the color of an overripe tomato. This…was…unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. First Merrill and Isabela and now these two?!

“Oh, so now you get along?” she snapped, taking to her feet without bothering to dust the sand from her pants. “This is what brings you two together, is it? A common interest in busting my chops?”

“Hawke…” Anders chuckled, tilting his head back to watch as she stood. “Don’t be that way. It’s just that—”

“Awfully touchy for someone so sure of themselves,” Fenris added, not laughing outright but sounding close enough to ruffle her feathers the wrong way all the same.

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “Know what? I take it back. All of it. Go on—alert the whole bloody coast that we’re here. Get back to your endless and no doubt illuminating debate about…whatever it was you were nattering over. Mages and their fancy sticks. Cheese prices in Ferelden. The color of the sky…”

Quietly, pointedly, Anders cleared his throat. “You are sounding a bit defensive, you know.”

Glad for the cover of darkness, she turned from the fire and began storming back towards the tent…though only after hissing a curt, “I like you two better when you’re trying to claw each other’s throats out, you know that?! I really do!”

“Touchy, touchy…” one of them muttered in reply—Fenris, if she had to guess—but already she’d put too much distance between herself and the fire to tell with any certainty.

Tired as she was, it took her a few moments longer than she would’ve liked to open the tent flap and slip back inside. She had an awful, lingering fear that she’d be too busy replaying that conversation in her mind to fall asleep anytime soon.

***

The Viscount’s gardens were beautiful that day, a myriad of colors mixing and swirling in the late afternoon haze like watercolors. The air was full of the smell of flowers and the sound of polite conversation, the heat broken by an occasional, blissful puff of breeze. Servants wove in and out of the bustling merrymakers with trays of food and drink, adding the melodic clink of silver and glass to the music of the scene. A more idyllic day had never come to pass in Kirkwall.

And Maker, she was fucking miserable.

It wasn’t enough that she had to suffer the indignity of sitting out there in the direct sunlight chatting with Lord and Lady So-and-So about whatever pointless drivel passed for high society small-talk this season under Mother’s watchful eye, oh nooo. It would’ve been agonizing enough had it only been that, but her humiliation at the hands of her so-called friends was still fresh enough to sting like a smack—and not a smack to a fun spot either, but more like the face or the back of her hand. Who did they think they were, accusing her of something as ridiculous, as preposterous, as downright laughable as being in love with Va—

“You really do take me to all the nicest places.”

Hawke’s glance was scathing over the rim of her glass (or at least she hoped it was, lest a crack in her masterful façade show to let him catch a whiff of what she was actually thinking). She paused that way just long enough to get her point across before taking an impressive gulp of her wine. It was delicious. Horribly, horribly delicious. “You make it sound like I want to be here.”

“You’re the one who was invited, so…” If there was any consolation to be had about the damn thing, it was that Varric looked just as put out as she did…possibly even more so. The sun was clearly getting to him by then, the easy curve of his smile beginning to lose its usual barb, his posture uncomfortable and fidgety. “I’m just here to be eye-candy.” With that, he held his hand out expectantly, polishing off what was left of her drink in one go when she gave it to him.

“Exactly! So why complain about being saddled with a task you excel at so naturally?”

“Dear lady, you flatter me, truly.”

Though she’d never admit it, even in her darkest days, she was beginning to envy the ladies that had thought to bring fans to this pointless ordeal. Maker help her, she didn’t think her Fereldan blood would ever let her hold something so Orlesian in style (she’d in all likelihood burst into flame the moment anything that lacy touched her hand), but that didn’t stop her eyes from flitting to and fro, marking each and every one of them keeping cool while she was sweating into her satin. “Think of it this way,” she suggested, trying to angle herself in a manner that would make her appear both regal and suitably closed-off to any further conversation about summer homes in Val Royeaux or current trends in Antivan fashion. “Every moment you waste here in the baking sun brings you that much closer to writing your next political intrigue.”

Varric hummed at that, twirling the dregs of wine in the glass before setting it on the tray of a passing servant. “Well there’s an idea.”

“A good idea?”

“An idea,” he teased. “See, Hawke, I appreciate the sentiment, really I do, but I feel like you’ve overlooked a real important detail there.”

She turned more fully to him, raising an eyebrow.

“You want a political intrigue, shit’s gotta be intriguing. And this?” He flicked his hand out in a curt wave across the courtyard. “This is about as intriguing as sitting around trying to figure out what Corff puts in the slop that passes for stew these days.”

Now, the Grand Mystery of the Hanged Man’s Stew Meat was, in fact, one she often took part in trying to unravel, so she thought an argument could be made that it would make for a fairly compelling tale…but it didn’t seem the sort of thing one wanted to be caught discussing at one of the Viscount’s salons, especially with the threat of Mother overhearing (and becoming scandalized) being as ever-present as it currently was. So instead of digging her heels into that, she leaned forward just a bit, lowering her voice into a conspiratorial hum. “You want me to make some intrigue?”

He slid his eyes to hers and the both of them grinned, no doubt entertaining the same idea of what such an offer might entail.

“If you value the use of both of your arms, Hawke, I’ll have to strongly advise you against doing anything of the sort.”

She jumped about a mile into the air, clutching her gloved hands tightly to her chest; Varric laughed as though she were putting on a show, so she was happy enough to go along with it, but oh was she glad he couldn’t sense the hammering in her ribs. “Maker’s tits, Aveline…do you think you could maybe move around a bit more? Clear your throat from time to time? Completely forgot you were even there!”

From the side of the bench they’d been seated on, Aveline let out a quiet sigh, a shining statue made of well-polished mail and annoyance. “You forgot the Guard would be present during an event at the Viscount’s estate. You forgot.”

“I have other things on my mind. Things such as…”

“I’ll remind you,” Aveline said stiffly, her patience no doubt worn twice as thin as either hers or Varric’s, considering the heavy armor she was forced to stand in, “It is well within my purview to drag you out of here for making threats.”

Hawke turned to Varric with her eyebrows high and hope in her heart. “Do you think that’s a promise?”

“Hawke.”

Varric leaned in closer and made a grand show of shielding his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m gonna go with yeah, it’s a promise.”

“My oh my.”

“Y’know, the more I think about it…probably more of a threat, honestly.”

By then, Aveline should’ve known them well enough to know that groaning was the biggest mistake she could’ve made—voicing any sort of overt displeasure only encouraged their bad behavior—but groan she did.

Hawke turned in her seat as primly as she could, moving with a grace and poise that fit right in with the rest of the guests…though was clearly a pantomime to the ones that actually knew her. “My good guardswoman,” she gasped, pressing a hand to her heart in faux affront. “I am simply here trying to enjoy the ambience of the gardens with my betrothed—”

“Betrothed?” Varric cut in. “Since when are we betrothed? You know something I don’t know, Hawke?”

She flapped her hand dismissively. “Eh, betrothed, involved, all the same.”

“It’s really not,” Aveline sighed, her voice somehow managing to be derisive and entirely without tone all at once.

“I am simply here trying to enjoy the ambience of the gardens with my very newly betrothed—”

“Better, I guess.”

“—and I will not stand for you looming there making such barbaric threats against my person! Do you know who we are?”

Though she kept her eyes trained on the crowd, Aveline gave a slow, exasperated blink Hawke could nevertheless feel the weight of. “Would that I didn’t.”

“I,” she continued as though she hadn’t heard her, basking in the sound of Varric’s soft laughter beside her, “Just so happen to be the Viscount’s very favorite errand girl, thank you very much. And my handsome dwarven husband here—”

He shook his head but made sure she’d have room enough to set her cheek on his shoulder when she made it clear that was what she intended to do. “Am I your betrothed or your husband, now? You really need to get a handle on this before your mother comes over and tries introducing us to anyone else.”

“—is Kirkwall’s premier author. I don’t think the Viscount would take kindly to hearing you were making unfounded threats towards either of us, his esteemed guests.”

“I didn’t think the Viscount would take kindly to you leaving piles of bandit corpses in the streets either, and yet here we are…”

“You know, Hawke, I’m beginning to think our particular brand of humor is wasted on people in places like this.”

“I do have to agree.” It was only then, really, once teasing Aveline had (at least momentarily) lost its appeal that she realized the position they’d gotten themselves into…or, well, that she’d gotten them into.

It was maddening, really, how little thought it had taken for her to set her head on his shoulder; now that it was there, it was the only thing she could think about. How long was too long to stay like that? If she pulled back now, would it look odd? There was also the wicked voice in the back of her head pointing out oh-so-helpfully that she didn’t want to pull back, she didn’t want to sit up straight again, that if it was up to her, this would be a pleasant enough way to spend the rest of the day, and—

Despite the blasted heat, Hawke found herself scooting a bit closer against Varric once he’d taken it upon himself to drape his arm around her waist. He was so much better at this ridiculous charade than she was! Sometimes she had to remind herself it had been her idea in the first place.

Of course, it only made sense…he’d only agreed to parade around as her suitor-slash-betrothed-slash-husband-slash-whatever as a favor to her. It wasn’t as though he had to deal with that awful, cloying voice…and he certainly didn’t seem to be getting any of the same teasing from the rest of their merry band that she’d been enduring, so this was…well, it was probably the easiest thing in the world for him, really.

And it could’ve been the easiest thing in the world for her, too, had she not been so dead set on being an absolute idiot.

Before she could let her mind wander any farther down that thorny path (Maker knew she’d been doing enough of that lately), Hawke cleared her throat and heaved a sigh only pretending to be long-suffering. “Well,” she said, praying that a change in topic might return them to the easy back-and-forth they’d been using to pass the time before, “If not a political intrigue, then what?”

“Hmm?”

She waved her hand towards the people chatting and milling about, each seeming somehow more snobbish than the last. “We both know you’re writing something in your head right now, you’ve got that wrinkle between your eyebrows…”

“Don’t go pointing out my wrinkles in public, sweetheart. You know what that does to my fragile self-esteem.”

Hawke snorted a decidedly unladylike laugh. “I’m just curious! You said it yourself, this is about as dull as one of Sebastian’s lectures on the nuance of the Chant of Light. I can’t help wondering how in the world you’d turn something like this into anything workable, that’s all.”

He didn’t deny the accusation of writing in his head, she’d noticed; there was no use in it, of course, no bullshitting a bullshitter, but it was interesting nonetheless. There was a moment where he just sat there beside her, his fingers absently drumming a halfhearted rhythm against her side, and then, as though reading off a page and not simply reciting from his mind, he obliged. “When they’d first met, he had to admit he’d had her pegged as one of those scrappy young women not made for dresses. Watching her fight, it was easy enough to picture her stumbling and stiff in the confines of a gown, never quite knowing how to hold herself, but…as it turned out, he’d been wrong on that count, as he’d been wrong on so many others. She was more comfortable in her grimy armor than flouncy formalwear, to be sure—a fact that was immediately apparent to anyone who’d seen her on a job—but sitting there with her chin at a noble angle and her usual slouch straightened by the boning of her bodice, the illusion was nearly flawless. All that experience smuggling in her youth, he had to figure…once she found her stride, her camouflage was unmatched.” Then he paused, shrugged, and as though it had been nothing at all, added, “Something like that.”

Something like that. Something like that?! What was that? What was she supposed to do with any of that?!

In the wake of…whatever that had been…Hawke was utterly unable to move. She forced herself to do something, to acknowledge it somehow, but beyond a coy little titter of a laugh, found she didn’t trust her voice. Not just yet. Nonono.

Whether or not he was privy to the way her heart had taken to racing like a greased up nug on an icy lake, she couldn’t say, but the effect his low chuckle had on her was monumental all the same. “Too much?” he asked.

And before she could think on it too hard, she let her mouth take over. Yes, that had a nasty habit of getting her into trouble, but…she felt it a much safer option than expecting her brain to do the work. “Not enough,” she joked back, gathering every inch of her strength to finally sit up straight, shooting him a playful look. Her throat was tight as she realized how close they were even so, how his words were still dancing their way up and down the length of her spine like a caress, how easy it would be to tilt her head and—

“Were I you,” Aveline suddenly said, speaking quietly but insistently, “I think I’d find a way to look very, very unavailable for conversation right now.”

It wouldn’t’ve been right to say she was relieved, but the distraction definitely made it easier to come back to herself, and for that she was thankful. “What?” Hawke asked, “Why would we—” She glanced over her shoulder as subtly as she could, and the butterflies in her stomach promptly died, replaced by a hive of wasps someone had angrily shaken. “Oh Maker,” she swore, quickly pivoting herself on the bench so her back was to Aveline. “Mother’s bringing the de Launcets over here…is she possessed?!”

Varric scoffed. “Oh come on. You’re acting like they’re going to drag you off to be executed.”

“I’m sorry,” she hissed, again regretting not having a fan to hide her face behind, “Are you familiar with the de Launcets? I am. Wish I wasn’t. But I am. There’s no getting rid of them once they get started with their yammering, and I am absolutely not about to deal—”

“Running out of time,” Aveline muttered under her breath, managing to keep her face almost perfectly still in that creepy way so many of the Guard had.

Hawke’s eyebrows drew tightly together in agony. “All right, all right…I could…I could make myself vomit—”

“Not when you’re sitting next to me you won’t!”

“Seconded.”

She groaned, one hand moving up to clasp at the pendant of her necklace in what was clearly abject panic. “No, no, you’re right…that ham tasted like despair the first time ‘round, I’d hate to think of what it would taste like on the second go.”

“Hawke.”

“I could…oh! I could pretend to be stung by a bee!”

Obviously not understanding the gravity of the situation they were in, Varric just kept snickering. “And that would stop them from talking to you…how?”

“Well obviously I would also pretend to have a horrific reaction to the sting.”

“Ah. Of course. Obviously. How could I not guess that? The answer was so clear.”

“Whatever it is,” there was just a bit too much glee lurking beneath the surface of Aveline’s tone, “You’d best do it now…”

If Varric had any good ideas, he certainly wasn’t going to any great lengths to communicate them. Which meant, of course, it was up to her. So. Was hers a good idea? Doubtful. Extremely doubtful. But if she’d learned anything about living in Kirkwall, it was that an idea very rarely needed to be a good one. It just had to be effective. So. Was her idea an effective idea? Well, hell if she knew, because her idea had been to kiss him…meaning the sky could’ve torn open in that moment, sending demons tumbling to the ground like great, gangly raindrops and she probably wouldn’t’ve noticed.

There was no moment of tension, no shocked stiffening of his posture, none of the shit she would’ve expected; instead, Varric returned the kiss as though it had been his idea in the first place, pulling her flush against his chest, his lips insistent but soft, and when his fingers found her chin to tip it slightly (oh so slightly) towards him, there was the barest hint of his tongue against her lip and that was…well. That was something. Yes it was.

Yes it surely was.

It was maybe the third or fourth time that Aveline cleared her throat that Hawke actually heard her. “Congratulations,” she said, still with that note of humor caught in her sinuses, “It does appear you’ve warded them off. Imagine that.”

“No one wants to get tangled up in the love of the newly-betrothed, eh?” Varric joked as they pulled apart, and though she couldn’t bring herself to keep her gaze on him for more than a moment, Hawke couldn’t help but feel he looked nowhere near as disheveled as she felt. “Quick thinking, Haw—”

“Well!” The wasps had escaped her chest and filled her entire body, her fingers and toes and even her ears buzzing with a nervous energy she swore hadn’t been there a moment before. Once she saw the retreating backs of her mother and the de Launcets, she stood and straightened her dress, flashing them what she hoped was one of her trademark grins—the sort that managed to convey both ‘Good job, team!’ and ‘That wasn’t me, I swear it.’ “Now that that business is taken care of…I think I’m going to get myself another drink. Anyone else?”

“A member of the Guard can’t be seen drinking while protecting the Viscount, Hawke.”

“Then the Guard isn’t very fun at parties.” She shrugged a shoulder and let it drop, turning to Varric instead, unsure how she managed a feat like that without melting on the spot. “Drink?”

He seemed to think it over for a second longer than he needed to, but in the end he returned her shrug. “Sure, why not. I’ll drain Dumar’s wine cellar for him if that’s what he wants.”

“Fantastic!” she said much too enthusiastically, already turning on her heel. Just like that, she was off, making a beeline for the nearest serving tray, trying to calm her thoughts, her breathing, herself. They had to stay for at least another hour, maybe even two…she had to find some sense of normalcy, needed to get through the rest of the afternoon in one piece.

It wasn’t until she was looking over the fine selection of wines that she realized she’d been pressing two of her fingers to her lips, as though trying to pin down the memory of his kiss before it could flutter off on the wind.

“Shit,” she whispered against her hand, earning her a sour look from a nearby guest. “Shit.”

They’d been right. All of those idiots had been right.

She was in love with Varric.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #hawke x varric #varric x hawke #queenie writes dragon age #queenie writes challenge stuff #my fanfiction

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jayxscripta · 4 years ago

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The Mahaigner - Chapter One

A part of her couldn’t believe she was doing this. Barely a month of running and she was already giving in. Not that she had been given much of a choice.

Madeline reflected as she walked, hands shoved into her jacket. It was chilly, low forties, and one of those times when the ground wasn’t dry—just like any other November day in London. The red bus still went around the city, the London Eye went into the sky, and people passed her on the street with a decided indifference. Because here she was normal.

London was just as she had left it, but somehow it didn’t quite feel like the safe haven it used to. England might have been her childhood, but New York was her home. And if she had had a choice, she wouldn’t have left New York. But after what happened, she knew she wasn’t safe there, and where better to go than the place she had been born? The problem was, she was still on edge, because she was running. And every day, it felt more and more like she was running from some part of herself.

Not anymore.

That day, while she was working her shift at a bookstore, her cell phone rang. Which normally wouldn’t have been a big deal, if it weren’t for the fact that she had since changed her number and had yet to give the new one out to anybody. She had recognized the voice on the other end, and while every fiber of her being was against what he was saying, she was tired of always looking over her shoulder.

Madeline glanced at the address on the side of the building and hesitated at the doorway. This was it. She had the distinct feeling that if she went through that door, she wouldn’t be able to walk out as the same person.

She glanced at her companion. “What do you think, Astrid?” she asked, stroking the dog’s soft head. “Huh?”

She let out a quiet boof, her tail wagging slightly. Madeline knew what that meant—Astrid’s version of “don’t worry, I’m here.”

“Then I have nothing to worry about,” Madeline continued confidently, rapping sharply on the imposing double doors. She waited for almost a minute, long enough for the echo of her knocks to fade away, but nobody opened the door. She was just turning away from the door when it slowly creaked open.

Madeline approached cautiously. There was nobody standing behind the door, no good reason for it to have swung open like that. She poked her head around the side of the doorframe as Astrid brushed past her leg and slipped into the house, nose in the air.

The house was tall, with a circular window positioned above the giant door. The floors were carpeted deep red and the walls were a dark wood, trimmed with something that might be gold. The ceilings were high, the halls accented with burning candles, and the ambience Oriental. The whole place looked worthy of a paranormal investigation, but what intrigued her most was how ancient it felt. As if somebody had ripped it straight out of a history book.

There was a whir of wind and a short bark from Astrid. That’s when the door slammed shut behind them with a thud.

“I figured teleporting you wouldn’t be a good idea. Too disconcerting.”

She stumbled back, whirling around to greet the man who had called her here, who was standing only a few feet away. How he got there without her noticing, she wasn’t sure. “Yeah, well, mission failed,” she gasped out, eyes searching for something to defend herself with, just in case. Astrid growled.

The man raised his hands. “Call off your dog,” he commented drily, nodding to Astrid and her glaring, fixed gaze. “Then we can talk.”

“Right,” Madeline scoffed, “what’s your name?” It would be nice to put a name to the face that had haunted her for almost a month.

Still eyeing her dog cautiously, he answered quickly. “My name is Dr. Stephen Strange. And I am trying to help you.”

“Hasn’t really seemed like it,” she shot back.

“I know you don’t know how to control it, because if you did you would use it against me now—” Dr. Strange continued on as if he hadn’t heard her.

“Damn right,” she muttered.

“—And I swear, all I want is to help you understand and control it,” he said earnestly, and as much as she didn’t want to, a part of Madeline believed him. He actually sounded sincere, even though he seemed more interested in Astrid’s bared teeth.

Lips pursed, she nodded slowly. “Astrid, heel.” She could see the relief in the doctor’s eyes when the dog backed away and rejoined her master at her side.

“Alright, let’s get down to business. Do you like tea?”

In the blink of an eye, Madeline was no longer standing in the entry hall of that great house. She wasn’t even standing anymore, rather sitting in a comfortable chair, teacup in hand, with a bewildered Astrid at her side. Madeline felt something similar to seasickness wash over her, and the tea in her cup was sloshing around, dangerously close to spilling over the edge.

“I told you it was disconcerting,” Dr. Strange said, looking a little too amused for her liking.

She attempted to sip her tea and scowled when it splashed over the edge and onto her jeans. Her host, who was sitting directly across from her, seemed indifferent. “Don’t you like tea?”

“Yes, I do like tea,” she responded wryly, “just not when it’s on my clothes.”

“As I was saying,” Doctor Strange continued, ignoring her jab, “I protect the world from mystical threats, and your little incident in New York qualified as one.”

Madeline paused mid sip, and promptly set her teacup onto a nearby table. “Are you calling me a ‘mystical threat’?”

“Not… exactly,” he hesitated, leaning forwards in his chair. “Miss Boudreaux, if my assumption is correct, then you haven’t used your powers since the incident, because you don’t know how. But there are other forces at play here. That’s why it was imperative you come here tonight.”

“Other forces?” she questioned, sinking down into her chair. Her hand slid over the edge of the armrest, and she felt the warm moisture of Astrid’s tongue as the dog licked her hand. Madeline quickly wiped it on the side of her jeans. “What kind of other forces?”

“The Sokovia Accords,” he said, as if it were obvious, “the United Nations keeps a record of every enhanced individual, so when a new one pops up, they’re very interested in finding out who that person is.”

“And you work for them?” Madeline questioned, feeling her stomach drop. The experience had been a frightening one, and she couldn’t blame herself for running, but hindsight was 20/20. Running was far more nerve-wracking now that she knew she had been running from the United Nations, of all things.

Dr. Strange huffed in an amused and somewhat offended way. “Definitely not,” he said, “they don’t know I exist. If they did, they’d probably arrest me too. I tracked you here, do you think I wouldn’t notice if someone else was following you?”

“Someone else was following me?”

“To put it bluntly, yes. You’re not very observant.”

“Lovely,” she muttered, “now that you’ve found me, what’s next?”

“Well, I’d suppose that we attempt to discover what doescause your powers, seeing as you can’t use them at will,” he paused, looking suddenly suspicious, “that is true, isn’t it? You can’t control them?”

“No, I can’t,” she responded, unsure whether she should be relieved or worried by that fact. “But what good will finding the cause of them be? I thought I wasn’t supposed to use them?”

“Your powers are something I’ve never seen before,” Dr. Strange answered bluntly, “and if we find out what’s the root of your abilities, then you can avoid using them. Now, has this—”

Before he could finish, a loud, demanding knock resonated throughout the house, startling all three of them. The doctor stood up abruptly, looking somewhat confused. “That’s odd. I don’t remember ordering pizza.”

Madeline remained frozen as the Doctor’s cape disappeared around the wall corner, and not long after she heard the beginnings of a loud argument. Whoever was at the door was definitely not a pizza delivery guy.

Coming to her sense, she hurried out the door, Astrid at her heels. If someone—say, from the United Nations—had come for her, she couldn’t just sit quietly while somebody else decided her future.

She walked briskly down the carpeted corridor, trying to not get lost in the large, unfamiliar house, following the voices as they grew louder. With every muffled footstep the feeling the knot in her stomach grew. Eventually, she stumbled across an impressive staircase and descended. Strange was nowhere in sight, but she could definitely hear him now.

Cautiously, she pressed her back to the wall and peered around the edge. From here she could make out the door, which was open, but Strange was blocking part of her view. What she was able to see, though, left her both speechless and more than a little confused. Because she had never imagined she would meet the Avengers, especially not like this.

Tony Stark stood closest to the doctor, in a what would be toe-to-toe position if they were the same height. He was dressed like a normal, albeit rich, human being, which was strangely disconcerting. Standing close by on either side of him was Vision and Spider-Man, who was a long way from home. Unlike Stark they were both wearing their respective superhero uniforms.

The small group was talking over each other, forming a jumbled mess that surely nobody could decipher. Stark’s voice finally managed to cut through the clamor. “Look, just hand her over and we’ll be on our way. Then you can get back to doing whatever it is full time wizards do.”

“I’m not a wizard. I’m a doctor, douchebag, and that’s not going to happen.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger.”

Vision’s voice entered the conversation again. “Mr. Strange—”

“Dr. Strange,” he interrupted.

“Dr. Strange,” Vision continued, undeterred, “we’re under direct orders from the United Nations to retrieve Miss Boudreaux. We’re not leaving without her in our custody.”

Strange huffed in frustration. “You’ll wish that you had listened to me when she knocks out your pilot on the flight home.”

“Do you really think you’re the only one who can handle her?”

“Handle me?” she muttered.

“Yes, I do,” the doctor shot back, evidently not hearing her. “You want to know what my job is, Stark? Protecting the world from mystical threats. I’m more than qualified to investigate her abilities. But I can’t very well do that when she’s locked in a maximum-security prison.”

Madeline’s stomach dropped about three feet further than it already had. Prison? Strange had made it seem as if the UN wanted to “catch and release” her—bring her in, catalogue her, and then let her return to her life. Had they been sent to arrest her?

Could she really trust any of them? One party wanted to possibly take her to prison, the other party lied to her and probably viewed her as some sort of mystical threat, or at the very least, a specimen.

Not seeing any way around it, Madeline stepped out from behind the wall, heart beating out of her chest. She pushed an eager Astrid behind her. “Do I get—" she began, but before she could finish, there was a sudden thwip sound. She looked down, startled, only to see her hand glued to the wall, wrapped in some sticky, white, frankly repulsive substance. Her eyes flew up to look at the others. “What the hell is this stuff?” she asked, disgusted.

“Miss Boudreaux,” Vision said immediately, ignoring her question, “you have to come with us.”

“We just established that—”

“Now wait a second,” she said indignantly, “I would like to have some choice here.”

“I’m afraid as the subject in question, you can’t,” Vision said.

“Well, that’s bullshit.”

“If you have to take her because the United Nations says so,” Strange interrupted, “then by all means take her. But don’t think for a second you’re leaving without me.”

Stark pulled off his sunglasses, which really were unnecessary anyways, given that he was indoors, and stared at the doctor incredulously. “And why exactly would you want to come?”

Strange leveled a steady look at the billionaire. “We still have no idea how her powers work. She could kill you, and you’ll have no idea how to stop her.”

“Vision can handle it, right?”

The doctor shook his head. “Not this.”

Stark drew back a few steps, whether voluntary or not. He hesitated, and then sighed in resignation, as if he couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Fine. Deal.”

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willow-salix · 5 years ago

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Anyone want to see Selene try (and fail) to play video games with Alan?

Day 54 of Isolation on Tracy Island and I almost killed Alan today. Mostly because he was laughing so hard he kept choking, wheezing and forgetting to breathe.

What, you might ask, was so funny? Well, he tried to teach me to play a computer game with him. And let's just say… I'm not a natural.

"I'm bored," I whined, stretching out a foot and poking Alan with my toe. "Entertain me."

He looked at me. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know, suggest something."

"You won't like anything that I want to do."

"I promise I will, I'll give anything a go at the moment, I'm that bored."

"Fine," he handed me a VR headset and a set of hand controllers. "Let's play."

"Oh, oh no! No, this is not for me. Boy, you know I'm a technophobe, I don't play games, I just can't get my head around them."

"You promised you'd try," he reminded me, an evil glint in his eyes and an even eviller smirk on his face.

"Crap." I sighed and slid the heavy goggles onto my face. "You had better pick something easy."

There are, as it turns out, two versions of easy, Alan easy, and me easy. He picked Alan easy, which should be considered very hard for me.

"What are we playing?" I asked.

"Cavern Quest," he replied. "You'll love it, I even set you up with a witch character to go with my Knight. You'll do great."

At least someone had faith in me. Though unfortunately that faith was about to be short lived.

"How do I walk?" I called after him as he sped off like a streak of lightning. Boy was rapid. "Come back!"

"Just use the thumb controls of the left controller to move, push forward or backwards to go forward or backwards and side to side to move left or right."

I pushed forward and was instantly face to face with the floor.

"What happened?"

"You fell over. You ran into a stump."

"Poop. How do I get up?"

"Push up! Just push the direction you want to go."

I pushed up and ended up looking at the stars. .

"Erm…help?"

"Hang on, I'm coming."

A hand grabbed mine and hauled me to my feet.

"Thank you."

"Want me to guide you to the first level?"

"Yes, yes I do."

He towed me along by the hand until we zoomed through a curved doorway into what looked like a castle hall.

A king sat upon a pretty nifty throne, so I guessed that my assumption had been correct.

"Welcome, brave warriors," he boomed. "I am grateful for your assistance. I shall give you five quests, each one more challenging than the last. Complete them all and you will win your place within the ranks of nobility and become a Knight of the Realm."

"Fancy," I commented.

"Prove your valour and recite the Cavern Quest oath."

Alan nudged my character, and I think me in real life as I felt it in my ribs.

"Just keep up if you can," he whispered then launched into what I assumed was the oath.

"With mystic blades and fire ore, we pledge our honoured best. Many shall fall for only a noble few will pass the test! So come more worthy heroes and bring forth the cavern quest!" Alan finished triumphantly.

"Mystic ore…nobel us…test…Cavern Quest…" I mumbled, the only words I could catch. Alan didn't look impressed.

"You have pledged your fealty, you may now enter."

A set of doors opened before us and Alan dragged me through.

"You have to be on your guard now. You're a witch, so you fight with spells. Use the buttons on your right controller to cast. You simply swoosh and point and hit the right buttons."

I lifted my right hand and swooshed, hitting a random button with my thumb. A shot of red light flew out of my hand and blew up a rock. "Dang."

Alan cracked up laughing but soon sobered as out of the trees lumbered a gigantic troll. He dived at the troll, hammering it with his sword.

"Cast a spell!" he yelled as I shrieked and dived out of the way, trying to karate kick it.

"Oh, yeah, I'm magic," I remembered, fumbling with the controller. I bashed buttons madly, swinging my arm like I was batting away a fly. Coloured sparks shot this way and that, but the only thing I succeeded in hitting was Alan.

"Hey!"

"Sorry!" I yelled back. I risked moving a little closer and fell over again.

Alan defeated the troll and picked me back up again, moving us through the rest of the level. It didn't come naturally or easily for me.

"How do I jump?" I demanded.

"Left trigger!"

"Why am I stuck?"

"Because you're in a bush!"

"Why did I just die?"

"Because you fell in lava!"

"HIIIIYAAAAAHHHH take that you beast!"

"That's a dog not a werewolf! Stop hitting him with that stick!"

"Oops."

"No! Don't go through…there."

"I can't see! I'm blind!"

"You walked into a wall and you're still walking."

"Why can't I move?"

"You just got yourself stuck in a corner, turn around!"

"Why did I die this time?"

"That tree just fell on you."

I screamed like a banshee when something swooped down out of nowhere and attacked me. I flailed and somehow my thumb hit a button and my hand moved the right way and suddenly the gargoyle was in flames on the floor.

"You did it!"

"I did?"

"Yeah!"

"Cool. See? I got this."

Turned out I didn't got it at all.

We fought our way through the dark forest, taking out elves, fae and the odd goblin. Alan did the majority of the work while I set to work on a few puzzles, all of which provided me with new spells to add to my arsenal.

"For this bit you need to change your form, you cast a spell and become something smaller, like a rat or a toad."

"I can do that?"

"Duh, you're a witch. Use that new spell, it's easy, left, right, right, left, up."

"I wanna be a cat!"

"Then select the cat!"

I toggled along the options until I found a cat and hit the button. A flash of light, a puff of smoke and boom, I was a cat.

"This is so cool! I'm a cat! I have ears! Look at my tail! I can swish." I wiggled my butt back and forth. "Swish, swish, swish,"

"We don't have time for you to play with your tail. You need to go through that pipe and push the button."

I did as I was told and actually managed to complete the mission, opening up a gate for us to go through.

"Now return to yourself."

"I'm stuck! I'm stuck! Alan, help me!"

"You were supposed to get out of the pipe first!"

"You could have told me that!"

"It's common sense!" he yanked at my arms. My avatar didn't budge.

"You're too stuck and you're crushing your own lungs. I'm gonna have to kill you. Sorry about that."

"Just make it quick," I begged. I closed my eyes as he raised his sword.

We moved on once I blinked back into existence after my slaughter at the hand of my team mate. Alan handled all the quest points like the pro that he was, instructing me to go around each area, smash up as much stuff as I could and collect all the objects that fell out.

"Just get all the coins, potion ingredients and magical objects, I'll protect you and do the rest," he promised.

I nodded and proceeded with my one woman rampage of the scenery. I was a button basher, that's all I seemed to be able to do. I found it impossible to coordinate more than one button or movement at a time. I was just about managing to walk, maybe jump and land at a push, everything else was pure dumb luck.

"Yes! Take that you ugly box! Boof! Ha! Give it up, give it all up, I know you've got some gold in there. Quit holding out on me." I smacked the box with an axe that Alan had taken from a suit of armour one level back. The box refused to allow itself to be looted. "Gimme it!!! Gimme the gold! Make me rich, baby!"

I bashed a series of buttons as quickly as I could.

"Why am I a goat? Alan, I'm a goat! Why am I a goat?"

"You cast a spell, change back!"

I tried. "I'm a cow! This is worse!"

He had to stop beating up a wild boar to run over and fix me, laughing the entire time.

"Don't laugh at me! You're body shaming me!"

He actually had to hold his breath for a few seconds to calm down before he could talk me through getting back to my former self.

"Thanks."

I returned to the chest and tossed a spell at it and to my deep joy it splintered apart." Yes!" I scooped up the gold and tucked it away into my bag. I was kinda getting the hang of this.

"Come on, we gotta move!"

Alan leapt up onto the battlements and raced along the wall. I jumped up after him… and promptly fell off the other side and hit the ground.

"Crap!" I yelled as I blinked out of existence and appeared on the other side of the wall again.

It took me six goes to manage the jump, move, run routine, by which time Alan had given up waiting and was half way down the stairs that led to the great hall where the sounds of an epic battle could be heard raging.

"Alan! Don't leave me!" I raced after him and immediately ran into a door that I forgot to open first. I finally made it to the hall after getting wrapped in a spiders web, stuck in a cupboard, setting myself on fire and accidentally drinking a potion that turned me into a ghost for twenty minutes. But at least that gave me a breather to wander around and wail at nothing, kinda like I felt like doing in real life at that moment.

"What took you so long?" Alan called as he slashed at a dark elf that had just thrown a spear at his head.

"I got caught up, but I'm here now. What can I do to help?"

"Anything!" he yelled desperately.

I took him at his word, throwing spells randomly, hitting maybe one intended target out of twenty.

I swung my axe, whacking at anything that came close enough for me to hit.

"Ha! Take that you twat! Come closer so I can kill you easier!"

"I don't think life works that way," I heard John comment.

"How the…?" I looked all around and almost got hit by a flying shield. "Gahhhh," I screamed, ducking out of the way.

"Try hitting it again?" Scott suggested.

"Shut up! I'm trying to stay alive here!" I yelled back.

"Try harder," Gordon encouraged.

"Duck!" Alan yelled and it took me a second to realise he was actually being helpful. I dropped to my knees and just about avoided death by turkey leg.

I'd like to say that I held my own, but I'd be lying. I failed miserably and had to be rescued by Alan another five times just to make it to the end of the level. Though I did manage to trip over my own foot, but then a vengeful knight tripped over me where I was sprawled out on the floor, so I suppose that was a good thing.

"Nope, I'm done, I'll never get the hang of this," I tugged off the headset to find everyone sitting around, watching me.

"How long were you there?" I asked.

"Long enough," Virgil grinned.

"Swish, swish, swish," Scott wiggled his eyebrows at me. I glared in return.

"Lady Witch," John bowed, offering me an apple from the fruit bowl. "I wish to engage your services."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm a mercenary now, I only accept precious jewels or things of high value. You got any potions about your person?"

"How about a dirty old bar of gold? Will that suffice?"

I pretended to think about it. "Deal." I held out my hand. "You good sir, just hired yourself a witch."

I've got no idea what I just agreed to but I'd just survived an epic quest and now I know I can handle anything. He won't be too mean to me, will he?

#alan tracy #Isolation Island #Cavern Quest #Thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds oc #thunderbirds 2015

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mistresskabooms · 5 years ago

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Because no one asked, I'm gonna review the dark souls 1 bosses in 10 words or less.

Asylum demon: Dat ass tho. (5/10)

Taurus Demon: Looks really generic and the fight's not much better (4/10)

Bell Gargoyles: The first really good fight. Tough for newbies, but fair. ((8/10))

Capra Demon: oh cool. A tiny arena AND Doggos? Thanks Miyazaki ((0/10))

Gaping dragon: Insert vagina joke here. His design is the best part (5/10)

Quelaag: Ah, to be young, spry, and have spiders for legs ((9/10.))

Iron Golem: That's no golem! It was not made by jewish people! ((6/10))

Dragonslayer Ornstein and Executioner Smough: A gank fight done well, held back by bad hitboxes. ((8/10))

Crossbreed Priscilla: I didn't fight her because I'm NOT A MONSTER. ((N/A/10))

Dark Sun Gwyndolin: Oh. You made a tr*p joke about her? How original. ((Didn't fight/10))

Stray Demon: Do you like Reskins with AOE spam? Me neither. ((2/10))

Ceaseless Discharge: The Long Nut. The Unstoppable Ejaculation. I could go on. ((4/10))

Demon Firesage: Oh goody. More Reskins. ((1/10))

Centipede Demon: I fought him Unmodded on PTDE. My soul is broken ((0/10))

Bed of Chaos: THEY REDUCED THE WITCH OF IZALITH TO THIS SHIT? C'MON! ((-10/10

Pinwheel: Where is your health good sir? ((3/10))

Gravelord Nito: The best Lord Soul fight. Fun, Unique, and Cool ((7/10))

Seath the Scaleless: LEMME CUT OFF YOUR STUPID TAIL YOU FUCK. ((4/10))

Moonlight Butterfly: Do you like waiting? ((2/10))

Sif, The Great Grey Boof: Dark Souls: Prepare to die inside edition ((6/10))

4 kings: a cool idea completely squandered ((3/10))

Sanctuary Guardian: A really cool introduction to the DLC. ((7/10))

Knight artorias: Easily the best boss of Dark souls 1, without question. 10/10

Black Dragon Kalameet: The weakest of the 3 big dragon fights, still fantastic ((8/10))

Manus, Father of the Abyss: Manus' fragments are all women, MANUS IS TRANS Y'ALL. ((8/10))

Gwyn, Lord of Cinder: Say there, do you like to parry? ((5/10))

#dark souls #boss Ratings #people who make tr*p jokes about Gwyndolin think Guts Cosplays are still the raddest thing around #I can already hear the fanboy rage at not giving O and S a perfect score

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puppy-the-mask · 5 years ago

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~My Boys~

Character Limits:

Asks/HC’s ~8, Can be 10 for very simple ones

Imagines ~4, 6 for simple Imagines as they can get long

Interactions ~2-4, gonna be much more lenient with this limit

*You can ask multiple times with different characters*

UNDERTALE AUS

Main Characters:

Cas- It me!

Undertale- Paps and Sation

Underswap- Stretch and Blue

Underfell- Edge and Red

Horrortale- Chef and Bones

Cas!Swap- Honey and Mag

Horrorfell- Shanx and Cron

Swapfell- Rus and Black

C!SF- Slim and Razz

Purpfells- Mutt and Rant

Low-Medium Development:

Cas!Fell- Boss and Wild Cherry(Wild)

Pascal and Mortar

G!- Aster and G

Dancetale- Tango and Hiphop

Lust- Charm and Casanova (Nova) {STILL NO NSFW}

Mafiatale- Sniper and Roulette

MafiaFell- Molotov and Knuckles

MafiaSwap- Joker and Ice

MSF- Blackjack and Nightshade

Outertale- Comet and Pluto

FellAsleep- Priv and Sloth

HorrorSwapFell- Wolf/Flower and Reign

UF!Gaster- Fell

Basically Just Names:

MHT- Butch and Skull

HorrorSwap- Skewer and Chompy

GB!- Boof and Buster

Musictale- Rhythm and Beat

UT!Gaster- Royal

US!Gaster- Dinghy

SF!Gaster- Lake

HumanBois- Payton and Sam

HumanFell- Ezekiel and Rudy

Ladies~

UT- Poppy and Cerulean

US- Bronze and Turquoise

UF- Grim and Brambles

SF- Wisteria and Ivy

HT- Willow and Henbit

G- Jade and Atlas

Babybones~ <3

UT- Junior and Sansy

US- Orange and Bangers

UF- Noir and Blaze

SF- Marr and Indigo/Berry

Original Characters and Alternates:

Chaos

Serval

Monster!Cas- Muse

FA!Cas- Depri

US!Cas- Semi

UF!Cas- Nazzy/Naz

SF!Cas- Mal

Pup & Mask

Traveler (Stratum)

Jack (Poly?Morph!)

Amp (HorrorFell)

BNHA AU;

Traveler-> Ava

Shanx-> Shane

Junior-> Juneau

Sansy-> Sammy

Orange-> Oren

Bangers-> Barnaby

Noir-> Norwyn

Blaze-> Blake

Marr-> Marco

Berry-> Barry

Epithet Erased AU;

Chaos-> Chief

Cassie

Lilith/Lily (Only Child AU)

FNAF:SB;

~All Canon Characters~

Mr. Hippo :)

Bonnie/Plush Bon

SB!Cas- Attie

LEGO MONKIE KID:

Confident on:

Macaque

Sun Wukong

Less confident on my take:(in descending order)

Syntax

Huntsman

Goliath(/Strong Spider)

Mayor

Redson

Jin and Yin

Spider Queen

Chang’e

Scorpion Queen

Tang

Mei

Pigsy

Lady Bone Demon

Sandy

Azure

Peng

Yellowtusk

Ao Lie

Nezha

WONT ANSWER FOR:

FellswapGold- Coffee and Wine

Storyshift- Pops and (???)

AUniverse peeps- Ink, Error, Dream, Nightmare, Cross, Killer, etc.

Peepaw Afton/Springtrap =_=

Kui Mulang

#MY BOYS #Who i'll answer asks and such for #Will update as things change #long post #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAa

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smokeybrandreviews · 3 years ago

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Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Back For the Very First Time

It’s the end of the year and time i look back on my cinema-going journey over these past twelve months. This one is special because it’s the first since the Boof, that i actually got to go to the theater, itself. I’ve seen a ton of flicks this year had to make up for lost time, and there’s still one i want o check out. I probably won’t see that one, The Whale, because my city is an uncultured cow-town and we never get movies like that in their initial limited run. It’ll probably make it’s way to these parts sometime in January but know, if i had seen it before the turn of the year, it’d probably be pretty high on this list. That said, these are my top films of the year. I recommend all of them because they were wildly entertaining.

10. The Batman

This was a disappointment. I mean, it’s good, super grounded, and actually adapted something new but, at the same time, it was wildly underwhelming. I’ve seen it a few times and with each viewing, I'm less enamored with the entire concept of Battinson. The film, itself, is amazing and i do believe it was one of the best releases this year but I'd be lying if i said it didn’t expect more from Matt Reeves. It feels like a palette swap of The Dark night, like Reeves just watched all of Nolan’s films and stole his homework. Best Batmobile ever brought to film, though.

9. Hellraiser

I was all over this when it was announced that The Hell Priest would present feminine. If you know anything about The Hellbound Heart, then you know that this single change, mad e the new Hellraiser the most accurate adaption of that novella. And then it wasn’t. They cribbed a bit from Barkers yarn but did something wholly original with the lore, with the world, and i dug all of it. This isn’t the Hellraiser i know but it’s a Hellraiser i want to see more of.

8. The Northman

I’m a sucker for my Shakespeare adaptions and this is straight up Hamlet, but with a wildly brutal presentation and the meticulously crafted narrative from Robert Eggers. This man is fast becoming one of my favorite creatives. Dude literally only has three entries on his filmography and they’re all bangers. They’re all on my all-time list. It’s absurd how deft a storyteller this man is. His vision is only matched by his creativity and The Northman really drives that fact home.

7. Pearl

The dark horse A24 entry that made the list at the finish line. I was tempted to put X on this thing but then Pearl quietly dropped and i was absolutely captivated by Mia Goth. I’ve always been a fan of her work but Pearl really demonstrates why i love her so much. his is every bit her film as it is Ti West’s. Goth absolutely devastates as Pearl and it’s a macabre pleasure to witness. X was good and genuinely deserves a spot on this list but Pearl is everything that film was and so much more.

6. Sonic the Hedgehog 2

This one was surprising. It’s the rare sequel that is better than the original. I didn’t expect to like the first Sonic film as much as i did because of how derivative it turned out to bee, but, borderline cliche aside, i had a blast with Sonic 2. It’s weird to see but i think Hollywood is right on the cusp of properly cracking video game adaptions. Detective Pikachu, Arcane, and now this? Yeah, this feels like Batman Begins just dropped and Iron Man is just a few years away. We’ll see how Mario does next year.

5. Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness

This thing should have really been called Wanda Maximoff and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day because, goddamn! Who’d have thought that the Scarlet Witch would be up there with Killmonger, Thanos, and every villain MCU Spider-Man has faced, as one of the best antagonists in the entire MCU. Honestly, for my money, MoM was the most entertaining entry from The House of Ideas and i say the knowing i like Wakanda Forever more but this thing is re-watchable. I don’t see myself ever watching Black Panther II again. That one hurts. This one is fun.

4. Prey

Bro. Bro... Look, I've been wildly transparent about my love for all things Xeno. I love the Alien franchise and that means, by proxy, i love the Predator franchise. I’ve gushed about my love for Machiko Noguchi, the first human Predator. I’ve lamented about the missed opportunity to adapt that original AvP story line to film and hat would be lost when The Mouse House got a hold of the franchise. Prey proved me wrong. This thing is the best Predator film released to date, outside of the first, i am DYING to see what comes next. F*cking brilliant watch, all day and a real throwback to the Eighties where you had to work around tech limitations to tell your story.

3. Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

This movie was an exercise in pain. I liked it, i did, but it was a rough watch. Ryan Coogler has crafted a genuinely emotional dirge requiem for Chadwick Boseman and the character of T’Challa. His shadow looms over this entire film and it weighs on your psyche as you watch. It’s heartbreaking but incredibly beautiful. It is, admittedly, flawed in a lot of places but i still enjoyed it. I still enjoyed how much love was put into this film. It’s gorgeous and a legitimately sweet good-bye to Wakanda as we knew it.

2a: Nope

Nope is one of the most authentically black films i have ever seen. This sh*t just hits different. Like, watching this thing makes me feel like i would react in the exact same ways as Em and OJ. Seriously, this is how my cousins and i would act if Jan Jacket showed up over our house. I love that. I love this movie. It’s not as good as Get Out but i think it’s the most accessible film Peele has ever made.

2b. Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery

I just watched this thing a few days ago and I'm still enamored with how brilliant Glass Onion is. From top to bottom, this is a tour de force in film-making and i adored every second of it. Rian Johnson gets so much sh*t for The Last Jedi but this man can craft a film with the best of them. Also, he wrote the f*cking thing! I forgot to mention that in my review but he wrote that whole movie. Story, script, screenplay; All him. It just frustrates me how brilliant this man is, and how sh*t The Last Jedi turned out.

1. Everything Everywhere All at Once

This one is easily the best film I've seen all year. Everything about it absolutely screams masterwork. This one was my A24 entry for the year an I'm glad i made the effort to check it out because, holy sh*t, is this film fantastic! Never mind all of the pretty blatant brilliance that i covered in my proper review, i just really respect the f*ck out of this trend in film to deal with generational trauma. We saw a lot of this during the year with films like Turning Red, Encanto, and even a little bit in Shang-Chi but Everything really put in the work with this sh*t. I left that theater feeling. Just, feeling. I reflected on the scars i have from my parents and how they have shaped my own worldviews. It’s rare that a film leaves me that introspective and i have to give full credit to this movie for allowing me to experience that, after so goddamn long.

Honorable Mentions: Turning Red, Weird: The Al Yankovic Story, Three Thousand Years of Longing, Blonde, X, Beavis and Butt-Head Do the Universe, Tár, Morbius (For the memes), The Black Phone, Jackass Forever, Bullet Train, Chip 'n Dale: Rescue Rangers, Barbarian, V/H/S/99

Not Jurassic World: Dominion, though. Never Jurassic World: Dominion. That movie was terrible. Worst than Fallen Kingdom and THAT was a whole ass exercise in masochism just to watch.

#Smokey brand Movie Reviews

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smokeybrand · 3 years ago

Text

Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Back For the Very First Time

10. The Batman

9. Hellraiser

8. The Northman

7. Pearl

6. Sonic the Hedgehog 2

5. Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness

4. Prey

3. Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

2a: Nope

2b. Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery

1. Everything Everywhere All at Once

Not Jurassic World: Dominion, though. Never Jurassic World: Dominion. That movie was terrible. Worst than Fallen Kingdom and THAT was a whole ass exercise in masochism just to watch.

0 notes