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show a bard a hero and they’ll write you a tragedy: archdemons, landsmeets, dark rituals and sacrifice. show a bard a champion… well, they just might write you a hero, sewn together by patchwork, stained with blood and burning bright, eyes you can’t trust and lips you want to kiss, and an empty hand with armored fingers, talons sharpened like a dragon in flight.
(Source: lemmyleyra, via bex0rz)
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Dragon Age Dossier:
↳ The Hawke Family -
Practice sketching for a commission. Norina Hawke.
I don’t think I’ll use it as the final (unless Ema really wants me to) but I thought I’d chuck it up anyway.
Hey look it’s my Hawke!
*flails*
She looks so pretty Tanya!
(Source: whitethornwolf)
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Bethany and my warrior Norina Hawke
Anders and Justice
Done with the pics for a while.
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Behind the scene from my old suit series.
I love that Fenris has no shoes on in this picture.
(via caiterhe)
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A Chance Encounter (sorry, I stink at titles)
For Cherith
Bethany/Teagan
MotA spoilers for those that haven’t played it yet.Alrighty, this is my last gift as a relief elf for the DA Fandom Holiday Gift exchange. I wanted to write Cherith a story with Teagan, because I loves the Bann of Rainesfere. I also liked the idea of creating a world where Circle!Bethany gets some non-templar romancing. I hope you enjoy!
Isolde was going on about something or other, her voice sounded shrill to Teagan’s ears, even though he normally didn’t mind his sister-in-law. She had a big heart, was a kind, pious woman and deeply devoted his brother and their son. But after traveling with her to the remote stretch of the Vimmark Mountains to Chateau Haine, he needed a small break from her.
He missed Rainesfere, the craggy red land, abutted by the mountains with snowy white tops glistening in the distance, the wind whistling through the walls of the modest house he called home. Teagan was the Bann, but Rainesfere was a remote, desolate stretch of land near the Frostbacks, and many people preferred the comforts of nearby Redcliffe. He didn’t mind, the few people that inhabited Rainesfere were a particular sort of hardy and he liked them, while they in turn, adored him, for he treated them as fairly as possible.
During their travels to the Chateau, where they were to, of all things, participate in a wyvern hunt, Isolde had briefed him on everyone that she knew would be in attendance. It was an exhausting list, and he’d listened in silence as she rattled off all the various offenses the Comtess Dulci de Launcet had committed against her over the years. The two women had a legendary rivalry, but he didn’t actually know or care how it had begun.
“Teagan, are you even listening to me?” Isolde’s voice gouged into his thoughts, the accusation too much for him to take.
“I can assure you I am not.” Teagan replied, and Isolde blanched at his frankness, unaccustomed to it, though she’d known Teagan for half her life. “But by all means, keep talking.” He said. “I find it too quiet when you aren’t.” -
A Week of Gifts
Fenris/F!Hawke
For DeltasticAnother gift fic! This one is for Deltastic, who actually wanted a drawing, so I’ll have a go at a picture, but I did write this fic for her as well. I’m so sorry, but you didn’t list the name of your custom Hawke that romanced Fenris, so sadly, she’s just Marian in the story.
He didn’t like Satinalia, and she understood why, it reminded Fenris too much of Tevinter, of all the rotten debauchery he’d seen and endured there. The holiday, as Marian gathered from his stories, was nothing like she’d ever celebrated it, but a veritable pot of mayhem managed by the magisters in Tevinter. Fenris had dully described parties where he’d been required to stand guard and watch Danarius doing tricks to amuse fellow senators fueled by blood magic, drunken hired girls sitting and pouting on the laps of the most powerful, party goers in corners, giggling at delusions brought on by aqaue licidius.
His version of the holiday sounded nothing like the celebrations they’d had back in Lothering, with tiny gifts every day for a week, Mother and Bethany baking in the kitchen. Just the scent of fruitcakes made her think of home, though she hated eating the things. The smell always made her nostalgic, the dried fruits and rum mixed with cake, it was just the smell of a Satinalia celebration to Marian. She used to spend all her pocket money buying things for her family, planning months in advance, shopping at the traveling carts that came through Lothering. -
Varric pictures, because there’s always a good reason for Varric.
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Mother and I are not amused Gamlen.
My mage, Tatiana Hawke.
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(Source: thedastexts)
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I wrote this one night when I was having the kind of writer’s block that seems unfathomable until you sit down and try to write.
It’s been one of my most popular pieces since I wrote it. Little fic, you helped me break down a wall and for that I am forever grateful.
