Attack of the Fenpaca
Things I draw : http://frikadeller.tumblr.com/tagged/fanart/
Please credit/link if using the things that I've drawn, no matter how sketchy or shitty they are.
Commission slots : closed until further notice
from the post about imagining your icon as a maid
frikadeller imagined blushing thorin but i didnt draw blushing thorin so here you go
Hero is a loaded word. It is yoked with the weight of ages, anchored to the marble visage of those who once wore it. To call someone a hero is to burden them with this ballast, for they must now live up to their new title, lest they disappoint those who have bestowed it upon them.
Al Hawke did not look like a hero.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH OMFG
LEMME FLAIL LEMME FLAIL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH
Thank you bb :w:<3<3<3
oh my glob
feelings and i cannot keysmash because nailpolish
CALE HAWKE WHY ARE YOU SO DIFFICULT TO DRAW FJDAKLFJJDJL
Anyway I was trying to draw one of frikadeller’s Hawkes who is adorable for somebody that resembles a bear. We decided that if there was a modern Kirkwall, Cale would be a frequent customer at Ikea for the food and because he breaks a lot of furniture with his overbearing strength (badum tss). Also, katamaki gets a bonus Fenris, because Cale and Fenris are totally laconic-dudes-with-bushy-eyebrows bros.
… I clearly gave up on serious art by the time I got to Attempt 4 LOL. (
And sorry for the overall smudginess.Edit: EEEEEEEE TEENY MALLOW IS THE BEST. Replaced the old pic with the less smudgy one.)
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEJHGJFHSGHJDFGHDGDFHJHFG
FLAILS ALL OVER THE PLACE
AND HEEHEE
BALLS!
Cale with a haircut.
“I thought Humans generally combed their hair.” Fenris remarked.
Cale reached up and combed it with him fingers, or tried to anyway. Gloved fingers did a poor job and Bethany once remarked, “You have Crusher Man hands.” after he’d mangled one of her favorite toys only by trying to give it to her.
“Nn.”
“It’s been unruly since you’ve cut it.”
“Anders…” Cale said.
“He doesn’t even bathe, why would you trust him to groom you -.”
“Jumps me…”
Fenris gave him a slightly scandalized look and they continued to walk.
When they got to the Hanged Man to meet with everyone, Cale reached for the door, snatching it open without meaning too, annoyed that the handle would probably be loose enough now to come off in his hand the next time he came.
“He’s wild.”
“I didn’t need to know that!” Fenris said, shaking his head and sticking out his tongue.
“Better to not -.”
“ENOUGH!” Fenris said, going inside as Cale held the door for him.
Cale followed, closing the door behind them. This handle did come off in his hand and he frowned and tossed it down, hoping no one would notice.
Fenris had and Cale shrugged.
“I’m wild.”
“I see.”
And then they had a laugh about the whole incident from the previous post.
Hawke was a connoisseur not of Tevinter wines, but of a similarly rare vintage known as humor.
In layman’s terms: he made funnies. At least he tried.
Some enjoyed rich flavors with a fine, earthy terroir. Some enjoyed a gulp that burned on its way down and pricked the corners of their eyes with tears—reminding them that all the bad brews made the best memories, and true laughter brought a man as close to weeping as grief.
A sovereign had two sides. Two heads, as a matter of fact.
‘You know, I’ve got two heads too, Fenris,’ Hawke had said.
‘Remarkable, then, how little both think before they act,’ Fenris had replied.
‘Are your legs tired?’ Hawke asked. ‘Because you’ve been running from slavers through my dreams all night.’
‘Is that a magical fisting trick, or are you just glowing to see me?’ Hawke asked.
‘I was going to say ‘Nice boots,’ but you’re not really wearing them, are you?’ Hawke sighed. ‘Elves make things so difficult.’
‘You must be a templar, because you’ve got my heart under lock and key,’ Hawke said.
‘These ‘lines’ are even worse than Isabela’s,’ Fenris replied at last. ‘She, at least, is to the point.’
‘Did you get those pants from a moldy barrel of torn trousers?’ Hawke asked. ‘Because I can see myself in them.’
That one didn’t even make sense. But the lines around Fenris’s mouth cracked nonetheless, thin shadows that twisted as they creased.
‘I would hope,’ Fenris added, his fingers knotting in Hawke’s hair, the twitch and jump and shiver of his belly tickling Hawke’s brow, ‘that you will not continue to…’
Hope was a funny thing. The greatest laugh of them all.
Fenris, on the other hand, didn’t continue. Hawke saved the rest of his jokes for the flesh; the only lines were the ones he drew with his tongue, from the base of Fenris’s dick to the head. ‘Ah, look,’ he murmured, and his voice in his throat hummed, ‘you have two heads, too, Fenris. And one of them is so happy to see me.’
Fenris hadn’t laughed. But his moan was perfect, so that didn’t matter.
The punchline came when Fenris’s hips were rolling—slow as the waves of the ocean that had carried an aimless little boat to Kirkwall’s shores from Gwaren—and Bodahn appeared in the doorway. ‘For the last time, Sandal, there aren’t any salamanders in he…oh. Oh! Oh. Oh, Messere.’
‘Mmf,’ Hawke said.
‘Ahh…’ Fenris said.
‘Ooohhh,’ Bodahn said.
When the door snicked shut, Hawke added, ‘Perhaps when you locked up my heart, I should have learned to lock the doors.’
Then, against all odds, with Hawke’s lips and teeth between a curl of fine, heady lyrium and smooth, leather-scented skin, then began to laugh together.
It was all Hawke had ever really wanted. Aside from the big house and the fancy clothes and the drinks in crystal tumblers whose names he couldn’t pronounce. Fenris drew Hawke up from between his thighs and kissed him, the muddied taste on their tongues. He sounded like himself when he chuckled, unmistakable now, as happy as a moan.
‘…Are you a healer?’ he asked, hoarse, into the darkness. ‘For I hear…laughter is the best medicine.’
IT LIVESSSsss
I’ve been working on this on and off for the past 2 weeks for Zag’s birthday and I JUST finished it omg. Only 3 days late but (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ it actually works (no plugs - everything, including the battery, is shoved inside the poor thing) and I didn’t even hurt myself soldering.
I feel so bad for it, I had to tear out its back seam and take out all its stuffing and turn it inside out and /creys.
Based off of frikadeller’s Fenpaca, which is all kinds of magical and now sort of exists irl.
SO GUESS WHO HAS THE COOLEST FRIEND EVER.
YEAH.
I AM TAKING A FENPACA TO COLLEGE, MY DORM IS COOLER THAN YOURS. no seriously this is going to live on my windowsill or something ahhhhh
omg tina i love you thank you so much I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY DID THIS IT’S SO FUCKING CUTE ;A;
SCREAMING
BECAUSE IT IS REAL
IT EXISTS
THIS FANDOM, THIS BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL FANDOM
HDFGJSDGFJDGFJHDGFJHSGDJFGSJDF
Playing cards with Fenris was a good past time, away from the noise and stink of the pub. Of course, with some of the more… organic decor in Fenris’ mansion, the stink of things wasn’t far away.
But they were in an upper level room, so it wasn’t that bad.
“What’s wrong.” Fenris said. He sounded annoyed and Cale looked at him.
“Nothing.” he replied gruffly.
“You’re not losing. Yet.”
Cale shrugged, looking at his cards.
When their eyes met again, Fenris frowned.
“What’s WRONG Hawke?”
Cale put down a pair of cards. “What do you think?”
“I think you have a weak hand and I’m going to win back my money. But that’s not what you’re asking.”
“…nope.” he stacked the cards in his hand. “What do you think… about Anders?”
“NO.” Fenris said, standing up. He pointed at Hawke, clawed finger glowing. “NO. HAWKE.”
And then he walked away and left the room.
Cale sat there for a long moment, then reached over the small table to pick up Fenris’ cards.
The Elf leaned back in the doorway, his eyes narrowed.
“No.”
And Cale withdrew his hand and went back to looking at his own cards.
**
**
Fenris kept looking at him funny and sneering. That was nothing new really. The elf generally rolled his eyes or threatened him with his gaze, but this was strange and annoying and -
Anders laughed out loud suddenly.
“YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH ME?”
Isabela stabbed a man in the throat, laughing. “WHAT?”
“WHAT?” Fenris looked disgusted, flicking gore off his blade.
“What?” Cale said, coming back from his own kill, his Mabari dragging a loot bag. “No!” he pointed at Fenris. “No.”
“I’m not your Dog, Hawke! Don’t you ‘No’ me!” but of course Fenris was doing his own pointing and did a lot of his own ‘No’ing at Hawke.
“And you know very well I could never like this disgusting sack of -.”
“I’m so flattered!” Anders said, batting his eyelashes. “I’ve never known how you felt BEFORE! Even if you turned to sweetness and light tomorrow Elf, it’d never happen -.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m writing something -.”
“BE QUIET ISABELA!” they both said, glaring at each other.
Cale stepped over a body, then stepped over to Anders, then took his wrist, then tugged him close, then stood there.
“…Hawke?”
Cale looked at Anders. “Yes.”
“What are you doing?”
Cale said nothing and Isabela whistled.
“BIRD GETS THE CAT!”
“What?” Anders was confused.
“This is TERRIBLE!” Fenris said, walking off.
Cale gave a nod.
He was pleased.
“Is it true, the secret to your magic is a rabbit?” the little girl asked. “Do you keep it in your hat?”
Oliver was currently wearing his top hat and smiled, shaking his head. “I don’t believe he’d consent to being put in there.” he winked and without saying anything, pointed to his breast pocket.
The little girl’s eyes lit up as she saw two small rabbit ears poking over the top. He put his fingers to his lips and offered the girl a small bit of blue candy.
“Magical beasts enjoy lyrium. See if he’ll appear.”
The girl held the candy out near his pocket, Oliver bending and sure enough, the ears twitched and a small man with rabbit ears appeared, looking sleepy.
He saw the lyrium and his eyes began to glow, reaching out and speaking in an authoritative voice, his hands clenching and unclenching with want.
“JUSTICE DEMANDS LYRIUM!”
The little girl giggled, offering the bit. “Is his name Justice?”
The familiar snatched it up and popped it in his mouth, chewing and crunching, his cheeks fat with the magical sweet.
“No, his name is Anders.” Oliver reached down and scratched under his chin, light blue waves of magic radiating off the creature. “He thanks you for the candy. Good day.”
**
**
“When you write the Magic Council, tell them the restrictions of Familiars should be LIFTED! I HAVE RIGHTS!” Anders declared, the small creature running across the page. “I’LL HAVE RIGHTS OR I’LL HAVE JUSTICE!”
Oliver caught his pen in the back of Anders’ shirt and lifted him.
“Hush now, I’ll remember you to them…” he kissed it gently and set it down.
Anders held his cheeks, his face red and skipped off, trailing magical blue dust.
He was happy and Oliver went back to his work.