beat the hawks!

anonymous asked:

Da2 companions react to Hawke beating the arishok in lingerie because hawke

Varric: That’s… not going in the book. As hilarious as it is and as true to character, no one would ever believe him. Looking around at the crowd of watching nobles, he knows that none of them will ever admit that Hawke wasn’t in full armor for this fight. Still, though, did it have to be lace?

Sebastian: He tries really hard not to look, to respect the bounds of propriety, but he can’t keep his eyes off the battle. Despite how little Hawke has on, this battle is not something he can look away from. He’s going to need a lot of time in the Chantry later. If Romanced: Despite needing to look away for his sake as well as Hawke’s, his eyes are completely riveted to the battle. He couldn’t look away if his life depended on it. Each time Hawke narrowly dodges a blow his fists clench in fear. How can he keep his vows if this keeps up?

Isabela: She thinks it’s great! Justice and a show! What could be better? Hawke just spared her to fight a giant horned man in nothing but their smallclothes. She’s in bliss! If Romanced: This, right here, is why she came back. Even though all her instincts fight it, Hawke is the one for her. And they’ve just proven it yet again. She needs popcorn for this show!

Fenris: He rolls his eyes, but Hawke’s lack of clothing doesn’t really bother him. He’s used to these kinds of crazy shenanigans at this point. He watches the battle with great interest, unconcerned by the lacy undergarments that are all Hawke is wearing. If Romanced: It figures that Hawke would enter in such an important battle wearing nothing but their underwear. He can’t keep his lyrium from pulsing with light every time they dodge a blow, fear for his love coursing through his veins like the burning itch of magic.

Merrill: She tries not to look at Hawke too much. She wants to be respectful, but there’s no way she could ever look away from the battle. It’s so like Hawke to be so reckless. If Romanced: It’s all she can do to keep her magic to herself and not cast any protective spells. Her Hawke would be the one to engage in a duel to the death while almost naked, but she feels like she might faint. She also surprises herself by feeling somewhat proprietary about everyone seeing Hawke this way.

Anders: His healer’s instincts are screaming at him to protect Hawke, and he has to clench his hands together behind his back to stop himself. Hawke’s lack of clothing only bothers him because it means they’re not armored. If Romanced: Someone should probably hold him back. He vowed that he would cover them both in blood to keep Hawke safe, and damn it if he isn’t struggling with that promise now. He should be at Hawke’s side! At the very least, he should be able to provide the defense that Hawke’s nudity doesn’t give them.

Aveline: Hawke is getting a lecture later. She’s spent so long as Hawke’s friend that she knows that they can handle a battle even while mostly naked. She’s not nearly as worried for their safety as the others are, but she is concerned about their lack of propriety. This is just ridiculous.

Bonus!

Carver: When he gets the letter from Varric recounting the fight, no detail spared, he groans and hits his head on his desk repeatedly. His sibling seriously fought a duel to the death in their underwear? Thank the Maker he wasn’t there for that…

Bethany: She reads the letter through four times before it finally sinks in what her sibling did. Then she just starts laughing. She can’t help it. It was so like her sibling to do something that reckless. It was probably a good thing she hadn’t been there…

Miraculous Ladybug - Final Showdown

Adrien Agreste has always worked to keep a schedule. Even when he is late, it’s planned, he has a reason, he is prepared. 

Just once, Adrien Agreste was nearly too late. Just once, Chat Noir was completely unprepared.

Running, leaping, falling, and praying, Chat Noir flips over a building turret, hoping, needing to not be too late. The people of Paris see a black blur streaking towards the Notre Dame, or they would have were they not fleeing in fear, away from the vaunted cathedral. 

He’s opposite the Notre Dame, the only thing in his way the glittering Seine. Most days, he would be fascinated with its beauty. Today, all he can focus on is the whirl of reds and blacks and purples, clashing in a horrible dance atop one of Paris’ most coveted tourist spots. 

Just for a moment, the dance slows. Just for a moment, Adrien sees his ethereal Ladybug. 

Bruises of every color litter her skin, her flashy crimson suit worse for the wear. There’s blood flowing from her left ear and Adrien feels a fury rise in him, realizing how close Hawkmoth was to stealing the Ladybug Paris treasured. With the fury comes a crushing sense of guilt. Here a villain with aspirations of world domination, a man who craved nothing but the downfall of the admired teen superheroes, a monster, had been planning his great finale. 

And, where was Adrien?

In Spain, on vacation, enjoying Nathalie’s lilted Spanish and the cacophonous streets of Madrid. 

He had been taking a jovial stroll in the Plaza Mayor while Ladybug, sweet Ladybug, was calling out to him, asking for help from her other half, trusting him to be there. 

Adrien remembered, seeing her face plastered across an LED screen, “Una tragedia en Francia.” A tragedy in France.   

He had run. Ran and leaped and fallen and prayed.

Please. Please let me not be too late.

Now, Chat Noir zeroes in on his partner, using his baton to leap the Seine and skirting up the side of the Notre Dame with ease, landing a flying kick to Hawk Moth’s chest as the corrupt Miraculous holder gets a little too close to Ladybug for his liking. 

With the villain busy reeling, he whips towards his beloved where she’s frozen, startled. Then she’s moving, but not in a good way. Up close, he can see it’s much worse than he’s thought originally. She’s bruised, bloody, and beaten, and she’s tired. He can see in those beautiful blues how exhausted she is, having to transform and release over and over and over again. Over and over with no one to help her. Because he wasn’t there

She moves, and Adrien watches as Paris’ femme fatal collapses on herself, fatigued muscles finally giving out. No doubt, she’d been running on adrenaline for quite some time now, and he was her relief. The energy she had been forced to maintain drained out of her and then she was falling, but this time, he was there to catch her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats it like a mantra into her hair as he holds her to him as gently as possible, “I wasn’t even here, wasn’t here to support you, to fight with you, to protect you when you needed it most, I’m-”

“Shh, kitty, don’t apologize.”

The world around them is burning but she is calm and collected. She is a hero.

“But I have to. I wasn’t here, Ladybug, and now look at you, you’re hurt, you’re-”

She cuts him off a second time, and this time she’s smiling. Her lip is split and there’s a scratch across her cheek but she’s smiling.

“Listen to me,” her hands come up to cup his face, “This is not your fault. Okay? It’s not. There is no way you could have known, Chat Noir. I was just lucky enough to be around.”

She laughs then, rusty and mingled with a cough, but there’s love and trust and happiness in it and Adrien kind of really wants to cry. The sky is blue, the birds are singing, and there’s a final showdown taking place on the Notre Dame. Just a few miles away, civilians are enjoying the Louvre without much cause for distress. But to Chat Noir and Ladybug, their whole world is this ancient Gothic cathedral. Everything ends here. The big boss battle, as Nino would call it. Except this is real life and they don’t respawn if they die. 

“It’s going to be okay, kitty. I know what’s going to happen, what you have to do, she told me, Tikki told me. It won’t be easy, but you’re going to do it Chat Noir. Paris needs you to. I need you to. I believe in you.”

It’s fond and confusing, but then Ladybug is closing her eyes and Adrien feels the panic rising in his throat. No, no, no, not her, not her

There’s a soft glow at her feet, and Adrien watches, unable to move, as Ladybug becomes Marinette Dupain-Cheng. A small part of him is glad, glad its her, he had begun to see the signs and hoped against all hope it was her. Wonderful, clumsy, kind-hearted Marinette, with a penchant for sass, though only around his alter ego. There had been something so Ladybug about her, and as he had become closer to her as both Adrien and Chat Noir, he had become almost certain. 

Now, Chat Noir wishes it wasn’t her. Wishes it wasn’t Marinette’s body he was holding in his arms. The panic consumes him until his ear flutters, and he hears the telltale thump of her heartbeat, and relief slackens his body. His attention is taken by a weak squeaking by his ear, and he turns to see a wide-eyed, beat up looking, crimson Plagg. Marinette’s kwami. Before he can speak, she’s cutting him off. In a different situation he’d laugh at how alike both kwami and holder were. 

“There isn’t time to explain, but Marinette most likely told you something. Her body can’t take another transformation, but I have just enough energy left for one more. You need to let me into your Miraculous. I know it sounds crazy, but this is what Chat Noir and Ladybug were meant for. This is the power of the two most powerful Miraculouses.” 

It’s a lot to take in and Adrien honestly doesn’t understand, but he nods, setting his shoulders. He will avenge Marinette, and he will beat Hawk Moth. For the both of them. For the world.

He holds his ring hand out to the tired kwami, who takes a deep breath before diving head on, into his ring. For a moment, she simply disappears. Then Adrien feels it, the soft tingling and a buildup of, of something, a feeling. His suit begins to change, ebony fading to a pretty violet, golden whorls interspersed evenly. He feels his claws grow sharper, metallic gold, and gauntlets rise to encase his forearms. His baton alters as well, the ends tapering off to a point. At his hip, rests a yo-yo, similar to the one his partner is famous for. 

As the transformation completes, Adrien recognizes the emotion welling within him. Protectiveness. Ladybug is creation, Chat Noir is destruction. Together, they are protection from all evils that threaten the people they love.

Light glints off the tip of his gauntlet as Adrien Agreste storms towards the moth who flew too close to the light, eyes blazing gold.

author’s note - so while i do think it’s probably going to be mari who does the whole chat noir/ladybug combination jazz and i love that, i think it would work really well for adrien too? we’ve seen the lengths he has gone to to protect ladybug(he died for goodness’ sake) and i thought it would be interesting to write! thanks for reading :)

MLWeek Day 7 (Nov 29): LadyNoir/Ladrienette/Marichat/Ladrien

@mlstaffappreciation

Their poses look like they should be from a ‘draw your otp’ meme, but sadly they are not. 

Chat was trying to beat box their own theme song during this

Bonus:

he hates these damn french teenagers so much

are u kidding. right after the preds beat the hawks ESPN just has to put up an article about how the hawks will bounce back in the future … can you not be happy for the preds for ONE second? No 8 seed has ever swept a 1 seed in the history of professional sports until now. That sounds much more exciting than writing about the future of the team that just got swept.

10

2016-17 Goals Game 72/82 (vs Colorado Avalanche)

Goal 1: Kane
Goal 2: Toews
Goal 3: Panik
Goal 4: Panarin
Goal 5: Toews
Goal 6: Kruger (empty net)

**Game Notes**
- with Toews’ two goals tonight he and Patrick Kane become the 6th teammate duo in NHL history to both score 20+ goals in 10 consecutive seasons.
- Hawks score 3 goals in 34 seconds in the 3rd period (5 goals in one period)
- With Calgary beating LA the Hawks clinch their pass to the 2017 playoffs

Ladynoir July Day 5: Right-hook

“Boxer gloves?! What am I supposed to do with this?!” Ladybug asked herself in bewilderment.

A cry of pain called her attention, and the spotted heroine had to prevent herself from flinching at seeing Chat Noir take another beat from Hawk Moth’s newest Akuma, El Macho. Apparently a kid had been bullied over his obsession with wrestling and now he was rampaging all over Paris looking forward to fight with someone. They heroes had to perform a lot of body fighting with El Macho, and both of them were running out of ideas. While she conjured Lucky Charm, Chat had taken himself to be the distraction and now… let’s just say that Ladybug was glad that their suits were indestructible.

“LADYBUG!”, Chat Noir shouted as he barely managed to block a kick from El Macho “THE AKUMA IS ON HIS BELT!!” he continued to shout while trying to defend himself with his baton.

“HANG ON CHAT NOIR!” Ladybug shouted back at him as she desperately tried to find something to use against the Akuma with the lucky charm. Her lucky vision only pointed out her hands and the gloves.

She frowned, but the unmistakable sound of a silver baton hitting the ground made her snap out of concentration and Ladybug couldn’t help but gasp.

El Macho was starting to strangle Chat Noir, who in one hand had the energy of Cataclysm and was trying to reach the belt. But El Macho had positioned himself in a way that prevented Chat from reaching the item by mere centimeters. The blond teen looked about to lose consciousness. Spots that didn’t belong to his lady were stating to dance across his vision…

BAM!

The weight was suddenly lifted from him. Once he could see more clearly, Chat Noir noticed that Ladybug had put on the boxer gloves and the Akuma was sitting on the floor, looking disoriented and the belt was destroyed with signs of Cataclysm (when did he managed to touch it??). The realization of what must have happened came to him, and Chat couldn’t help to stare at his partner with awe while Ladybug cleansed the city and the Akuma.

“What?” she asked once she noticed he was staring.

“That, My Lady, was one mean right-hook punch” he complemented. Ladybug gave him a smile.

“Well, I was not going to let an Akuma strangle my cat”

keksetsu  asked:

All other things about him aside, I always thought that An//ders was a fucking idiot for shit talking about Hawkes LI right in front of them. Like Hawke hasn't killed dozens of people who had threatened their LI, and countless others for less. And tbh I'm frustrated that Hawke can't do anything when he says that fuckshit. It'd make an interesting fic, sure; just wish I could do it in canon yknow?

That’s one of the most frustrating things about DA2, that Hawke can’t intervene at all. What kind of Hawke who cares about their love interest wouldn’t at the very least yell at Anders for slut-shaming Isabela, for telling Fenris he deserves to have been killed, for sexually harassing Sebastian, for threatening Merrill and projecting his own loss of control onto her – acting as if she’s the one in the wrong after the incident with Ella, not him, the one who murdered/nearly murdered an innocent girl? On top of everything else he says and does? Why can’t Hawke confront him just to defend their friends, let alone their LI?

I 10000% headcanon that my Hawke beats the shit out Anders for calling Fenris a wild dog. I accept nothing else. No other response is in character.

Hawke can kill Javaris just for being annoying (which is still a pretty shitty thing to do, but it’s an option). Hawke can argue with and attack Danarius and all the other slavers who come after Fenris. Hawke can argue with Marethari and fight Clan Sabrae to defend Merrill. Hawke can kill Castillon to keep him from coming after Isabela again (and also to stop him kidnapping people and trafficking slaves). Hawke can kill Jeven to keep him from defaming Aveline and trying to cause her to lose her position as Guard Captain. Hawke can defend their friends and lover from so many people, but not Anders. And that’s a serious storytelling flaw.

Light becomes heat, kindling as quickly as it had the night before. Fenris keeps up his gentle touches, seemingly unaware of the warmth moving through Hawke’s body, but when she turns her head to kiss the inside of his wrist, his skin feels as warm as hers beneath her lips.

His breath stutters, but he doesn’t move. Even now, body drawn tight as a bowstring, Fenris will wait for her signal.

Well then, Hawke thinks, almost laughing from dizzy relief and desire, let’s make it a good signal, then, shall we?

She threads the fingers of one hand through his hair — so long now the longest strands nearly reach his shoulders — and with the other cups the back of his neck. Fenris lets out a long, heavy breath, arching toward her, that delicious flutter still beating just under his skin.

Hawke considers the direct route — crawling in to his lap and setting her teeth ever so lovingly, ever so gently, to that bit of skin — and discards it. They haven’t made love for almost two bloody weeks; in that time she’s both nearly died and gone mad, and an anchor Fenris has been through it all. She’ll worship him, and beg forgiveness for the little blasphemy later.

With the slightest pressure she can manage, Hawke draws Fenris toward her, till their mouths nearly brush. At this distance, his irises look are dark and blurred at the edges. He doesn’t blink, not once, as she cards her hand through his hair and lets it fall, silent as snow, back into place.

“I want you to know,” she says, just before she kisses him, “that I love you more than my life. Meeting you —”

Fenris finishes her sentence for her, surging forward to kiss her, sending them both tumbling back to the bed.

Oh heck yes there is going to be smut in the next chapter of ALID, yes there is

anonymous asked:

Hi there! For the last prompt thing, how about Loggerhead - Uncommon aggression for Fenris/Hawke?

loggerhead: uncommon aggression

He’s usually the angry one – the spitting insults are his, where she’ll respond with clever-tongued quips, laughter in her voice, and she’ll grin through her ire with ease where he’ll wear his fury plain on his face. It’s part of his freedom, Fenris thinks – a small thing that he’s claimed for himself, after years spent like a ghost, not even allowed to feel the injustice of his situation. And he’s reclaimed it without shame – the anger is good, feels good. He feels.

But Hawke – Hawke doesn’t resort to anger easily. She’s not like her brother, always looking for a fight. Or – she is, but not that kind of fight, the kind brought about by righteous fury, or a deep-seated sense of injustice. And even bare-knuckled brawls she’ll greet with a smile and a whoop, but in all their years Fenris has rarely seen her truly angry.

The sight is…something to behold.

“Mind repeating that?” Hawke asks, hands resting on her hips, the gesture emphasising her rather impressive, pregnant belly.

The former Inquisitor – and what looks to be most of the recently disbanded Inquisition’s inner circle – watches the movement with expressions of varying degrees of surprise. But then, their arrival had prompted much of the same reactions – they hadn’t exactly been invited to the Exalted Council, Fenris muses, although to be fair, a lack of invitation has never stopped Hawke from cheerfully inviting herself. And she had, along with her extended family, meaning Fenris and the belly, and he suspects the latter of having some hand in the extremely short leash she’s got on her temper these days.

Of course, it doesn’t exactly help that their arrival is also met with despairingly bad news.

“The world’s going to shit,” Varric says, letting loose a sigh that sounds about as old as he looks. “Again.”

Keep reading

you will notice in my descriptions, i call them dumb and stupid a lot. i do that out of love. some of these are long, some are short. this isn’t a complete list. i might do another eventually. 

Marry Me A Little

This is the fic that started it all for me. One day I was roaming around the city and decided to read fic and see how stupid it was. This was what I started with. I just rode around the city on buses and trains and read. Then I came home and laid in bed for a few more hours and kept reading. I couldn’t stop. It was great and I was hooked.
Kane and Jonny get married so Patrick isn’t traded. Turns out they are dumb and actually love each other.

Chelsea, Chelsea, I Believe

I want this book printed and bound and put on my bookshelf for the rest of forever. It is hella long (300k) and full of every emotion you could ever have.
Turns out Pat has a kid. Jonny and him aren’t on good terms, but they somehow end up co-parenting. They are both idiots throughout. Bonus points for Q’s nickname.

Tympani

Pure porn. My favorite smutty fic. I love it.
Jonny discovered the wonders of his prostate. Also, they are both idiots.

Keep reading

anothersadplanet  asked:

Fenris pushes Hawke up against a wall and makes out with him

They hadn’t even reached the bedroom but the drinks Fenris had through the night spurred him into impatience. He could almost feel the weight of the years he had lost upon his shoulders, the unknown possibilities that were denied him and the need that pulsed inside of him, growing steadily the longer Hawke held his hand. The man had been guiding him towards the bedroom after a long and stumbling walk from Lowtown, his fingers drumming against his guantlets,  his eyes sparkling in the night.

Fenris increased his grip on Hawke’s hand, pulled the man towards him, almost tripping him in the process. There was a flash of a smile, a surprise, Hawke’s hands already slipping around Fenris’ waist. But that didn’t feel like enough. Too soft. Too slow. Need overtook him, his grasp tightening on Hawke’s hand as he twisted from the embrace and slammed Hawke against the wall.

Hawke gasped on impact, his face flushing slightly as Fenris kissed him. He was aggressive, reaching, desperate in his kiss. He could tell as Hawke kissed him back, trying to match his pace, his strength. He wondered if he should relent, if he was crossing some sort of boundary or revealing too much. But the thought was lost to the kiss. 

Fenris pressed himself against Hawke, raked his teeth against his lip, peeking his eyes open to see the look of pure rapture on Hawke’s face. He growled into the kiss, letting go for a moment of breath, nuzzling the man’s neck. Something was hot and burning in his chest, he blinked against it, refusing to release Hawke from where he had him pinned. The man was kissing his hair, his neck, anywhere he could reach, Fenris could hear “I love you” whispered between the kisses. 

The white-hot need inside him grew and he kissed Hawke even harder. He knew it must have seemed desperate, weak, like some sort of cry in the dark. He kissed him deeply, teeth flashing against soft flesh as he tried to take the very air from Hawke’s lungs. This is mine he felt himself think, This moment is mine and this man is mine and nothing is going to take this from me. He was battling, he felt goosebumps rise on his arms, his heart fluttering suddenly as he broke away from the possessive kiss. 

He let his head fall into Hawke’s chest, trembling, frightened of the sudden turmoil in his head. His grasp released slowly, hands falling until he was leaning dully against Hawke. He felt the man’s hands touch him, carefully, like something precious. He warmed at the touch, eyes darting up to see Hawke smiling, kissing his forehead as his arms wrapped around him like a protective shield. Heavy on his shoulders, tight around his waist and chest until the armor pressed against the beating of his heart.

“Hawke.” He had intended to say something but the words escaped him, falling unimportant on the wayside. 

Hawke kissed his forehead again, swayed slightly on the spot, “Lets go to bed.”