This is my place to hang my DA II Fandom hat, either by reblogging my love for Fenris & Anders or passing on fics or amazing art.
Logo and icon art by Jakface and msbarrows., from my request for Fenris in a suit.
If you seek my usual online haunts, check the link for my other online hangouts.
For my friends who are Fenders Fans: For Fenders Fans Tumblr
It was without a shadow of a doubt the best book Zevran had ever read.
‘It is exactly the sort of text I think you would enjoy, Alistair, my fine Fereldan king,’ he said, with his most winning, guildmaster-murdering smile. ‘All kinds of, ah, battles to be won, griffons to be tamed, wild beasts and thrilling rides… Shall I lend you my copy?’
‘Well, I suppose,’ Alistair replied.
It was either that or another meeting with the Banns. How bad could one book be?
‘There, there,’ Wynne said, stroking Alistair’s head as he wept onto her bosom. ‘You should have known not to read anything Zevran recommended, shouldn’t you?’
‘I’d rather fight twelve more archdemons than read about doing any of that again,’ Alistair replied. ‘Do you think I can use my kingly powers to ban it in Ferelden?’
‘A noble cause,’ Wynne agreed.
She had three copies, just in case Alistair wasn’t joking.
‘You hear about those fifty shades?’ Oghren asked Nathaniel, looking even more satisfied—and surprisingly more sober—than usual. ‘All the ladies want themselves a Grey Warden to see if the stories are true. And I’m just the sodding bastard to give ‘em a taste of all fifty.’
As always, Nathaniel assumed it was better he had no idea what Oghren was talking about.
‘I could do better,’ Isabela said, tossing it onto the bed. ‘Much better. And I wouldn’t bother with all those silly euphemisms, either.’
‘Rivaini,’ Varric replied, ‘a blind nug that’s been dead for three days could do better than that crap.’
Justice didn’t approve. He burned every copy Hawke tried to give Anders to spice up their relationship in the bedroom.
‘I wish you had not taught me to read,’ Fenris said.
‘Ah,’ Hawke replied. ‘The price of freedom.’
When Isabela saw the copy on Aveline’s desk, she had to admit—the big girl was full of surprises.
‘Not a word, Isabela,’ Aveline said.
‘But does Donnic Fifty your Shades?’ Isabela replied.
Sigrun had never expected the joke to take off quite like it did. But now that she was rolling in coin, using everything she’d learned to play the greatest prank on all of Thedas, she wasn’t about to stop any time soon.
‘Hmm,’ she said, dipping her quill in ink. ‘What’s next… Fifty Shades Deeper Roads, maybe?’
Sometimes, she loved her life. Even if, technically, she was dead already.
Dear Maker save me, that was brilliant.