miss marian


can i fill this lazy post with an old meme and old pictures? can i? hawke’s are new though, so it should be enough… (also, someone said they liked hazel’s big forehead and i just saw it, and i started drawing her all the time when i’m not working so there will be lot of hawke drawings coming soon :D)

“What do you do when you stop running?”

What if Dragon Age 2 was a more comedy-oriented game? And the characters broke the fourth wall a bunch, I can just picture it…

Purple!Hawke: [cracks joke]

Enemy: “Do you think this a fucking game?”

P!Hawke: [honestly] Well actually, I do because… 

P!Hawke: [looks into the camera] … this is a game.

Isabela grinned as hands placed themselves over her eyes from behind.

“Guess who?” sang a familiar voice, sounding far too excited.

“Hm…” She hummed, as though pretending to guess. “Is it… the Spirit of Wintersend, here to promise me a big boat this year?”

Marian giggled, pulling her hands away and moving to lean against the bar.

“So close, yet so far,” she said deviously, grinning.

Isabela snapped her fingers, smirking.

“Blast, and here I was hoping to turn around and see a big boat, moored right here in the Hanged Man,” she said jokingly.

“Well I don’t know about a big on, but I do have something for you,” Marian replied, reaching into her pack.

She pulled out something fairly large, wrapped neatly in brown paper. Isabela raised an eyebrow and took it. Marian was grinning as she waited expectantly for Isabela to open it. So carefully, she peeled the paper away.

It was a large glass bottle, and inside a model boat had been assembled - a handsome galleon complete with rigging, masts and a decoratively carved hull.

Isabela’s lips curled into a smile. “Oh, isn’t that the cutest thing?” She looked up at Marian, who was grinning.

“You can’t see it, but below deck there’s a perfect replica of you, with a dozen sailors in attendance,” she said cheekily, practically glowing at the reaction.

Isabela giggled. “I’m sure there isn’t. But… it is a worthy goal to work towards.” Carefully she balanced the bottle on the bar - she’d find a safe place for it in her room later. “This was thoughtful, Birdie.”

“Well it is Wintersend. Time to be thoughtful and all,” she replied nonchalantly, winking all the same.

“If you say so,” said Isabela.

“Oh yeah, before I forget,” Marian said suddenly. “Mother and Garrett are making a Wintersend dinner tonight and everyone’s invited!”

“Everyone? That’ll make for interesting conversation, won’t it? How long will Anders be able to hold in his mage-freedom speeches, do you wonder?”

Marian pulled a face. “You’re trying to change the subject,” she whined, throwing out her bottom lip and resting her head on Isabela’s shoulder. “Pleeeeease, say you’ll come? Merrill’s going to be there, think of all the fun we can have.”

Isabela’s lip curled. “You want to invite Kitten into our fun? Now that’s a tempting offer.”

Marian didn’t miss a beat. “Well I wouldn’t say no. But we’d need to ask, and tonight would be the best time…”

Isabela sighed, rolling her eyes. “Alright, alright. You can stop going the long way around, I’ll be there. And maybe I’ll give you your gift then. After all.” She hooked a finger under Marian’s chin and pressed a quick kiss to her nose. “Your bed is so much nicer.”

Marian grinned. “If it’s so nice, how did we end up on the floor last time?”

“You have a nice carpet.”

“You were hardly admiring my carpet, last I remember. Or are we talking in innuendo now?”

“Oh stop you.”

things i'll never be ready for in the dgm anime

- komui listing off all the names of the people who died going through the order’s failed experiments
- allen asking cross if mana was referring to him or nea whenever he says i love you to him
- flashbacks where cross basically took care of allen when he was a kid (cross making him soup and washing off allen’s soaked blanket)
- kanda telling alma “let’s run away together” while holding him + the fucking flashback of them hugging when they were kids
- alma telling kanda “i love you, yuu” before crumbling
- link opening up to allen!!! and getting jerry to make him a soup so he can feed it to allen
- tyki and road freeing allen from prison + tyki telling allen to show those two monsters inside him who’s boss
- lenalee going after allen!!!!! allen hugging her and saying he’ll always be an exorcist and that he loves her and everyone because theyre his home
- kanda fucking drinking his innocence from lenale’s hand
- lavi being tortured by sheril (ha ha ha stares at the void)
- johnny and kanda travelling together to find allen and going to different bars + getting drunk
- ALLEN WORKING AS A CLOWN and kanda thinking he wants to slice him up a little without knowing it’s allen
- nea taking over allen

hashbrowncatss  asked:

Promptfor you!! Fenhawke, hawke h/c, "Why didn't you say you were injured?" (I feel you about the writing slump, buddy. I've been struggling too)

Late nights of Wicked Grace usually end with a lot more wickedness than grace – mostly due to the fact that half of them are too wine-addled to walk a straight line, and with her shirt on backward and one shoe missing, Hawke – esteemed Champion Marian Hawke, Hightown manse and gold coffers stuffed to bursting – just about invites the whole of Kirkwall’s underbelly to pick her pockets.

Of course, it’s usually a bad idea to try. Alcohol has never had much of an effect on Hawke’s aim, laughable thing that it is.

“The more wine, the bigger the fireballs,” Aveline deadpans, sheathing her sword without flourish and casually side-stepping the charred corpse at her feet.

“Only way she’ll actually hit her target,” Varric snorts, and cheerfully ignores the crude gesture waved in his direction from where Hawke is attempting to pull on the missing boot Merrill has fished out of the gutter.

When the dust has settled there are scorch marks climbing the walls on either side of the too-tight alley, the old stone soot-stained and the smell of burning flesh a permanent reminder in his nose, and Fenris watches Isabela nudge the toe of her boot none-too-gently against a limp form on the ground.

“Ah, the Carta,” she sighs, smacking her lips as she palms a fat coin-purse with the tenderness of a particularly attentive lover. “You have to give them points for trying.”

Keep reading