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#Inktober2020 ,день 25 - #buddy

 Героиня Ферелдена, Страж-Командор Лина Махариэль после встречи с давней подругой Морриган отправляется на поиски лекарства от зова. Отправляется она одна за исключением своего мохнатого (и зубастого) приятеля, для которого это путешествие скорее всего станет последним. 

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14.10.2020 | Dragon Age 2 Tattoos

I like the idea that warrior!Hawke got a mabari alongside Carver, as a match sibling battle tattoo. Only i think she probably thought it was funny that she got a cute-and-fluffy one instead of the angry-stronk looking one I did for Carver. 

Merrill’s valaslin are outlined in green with negative space in-game but I find in my art work that often leaves them largely invisible, so I just made them solid. 

Apologies for the censoring but Fenris’ dick is far too much for tumblr. But I want you all to know that I did draw a nice and extremely tasteful peen and that now and then I open up the sketchbook to look at the original and go “hehehehehe penis (◔◡◔✿)” 

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Hi there! I was wondering if you know; is there anything that mentions what the average lifespan of a Mabari is? I know most real breeds that size typically range from 7-10 years so I wouldn’t be surprised if a Mabari would be similar, but I haven’t been able to find any kind of confirmation.

(IDK if you’re the same person who sent this ask twice or if two different people asked)

I don’t recall it ever being said. When Gaider was asked about it I know his response was basically “who cares,” so fuck it, however long you want to imagine they live. I would be able to believe they live for longer than most real life dogs, given their magic origin.

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Get yourself a:

  • Good dog
  • Loving, kind, and loyal good dog.
  • Dog seen as loving, kind, and loyal.
  • Dog that will protect you from your enemies.
  • Dog that will be seen as loving, kind, and loyal as it rips the throats out of said enemies.
  • Great Dane/Pitbull/German Shepard mix

Get a Mabari.


Originally posted by solavellan-hell

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Day 9, Mabari: Dog fights the Arishok.
Read more at Overhead at the Hanged Man.

The Arishok challenges Hawke to single-combat, and they heft their daggers and look at the Arishok’s massive sword, and then back at their daggers. Isabela had made fun of them when they first got them, said they were ridiculously large and unsubtle. Now they seem puny. Hawke feels puny.

“Does it really just have to be me?” they say. “I’m all for the honor of Kirkwall and not getting smashed by the will of the Qun, but I’m really not built for single combat.” They look at their companions. Dog barks excitedly. Hawke had painted a kaddis on them for the hell of it yesterday: how far away and innocent yesterday seems. Still, Dog seems ready for battle, like the proud Ferelden he is. Hawke thinks: well, I assimilated. Kirkwall coward, that’s me. Dog growls and thumps his tail. “Can I bring my dog? He’s a war-dog. I’m Ferelden. That’s what we do. Fight with war-dogs.”

The Arishok raises an eyebrow. Hawke feels like they scored a point, somehow. They look at Fenris for help translating this to the Qun. Hawke mouths: help. Fenris sighs and steps forward.

“As the Qun considers the blade the soul of the self, so do Ferelden warriors their mabari,” he says. Dog barks excitedly. Hawke nods sagely: yes yes, Dog is definitely an extension of my soul, they are trying to convey.

The Arishok considers Dog. Dog considers the Arishok. Isabela  mutters, “You gotta be kidding me,” and Fenris elbows her to shut her up. Finally, the Arishok says, “This satisfies a demand of the Qun. Hawke, alongside their mabari, will duel for the fate of Kirkwall.”

At some point during the battle, Dog clamps onto the Arishok’s butt while the Qunari leader attempts to impale Hawke on his sword. The whole interlude is too ridiculous to be believable, and Varric decides not to put it in the book.

“You’re the hero,” Varrics tells them, as they’re pouring over the first draft and complaining. “I have to give you the semblance of dignity. People look up to you, you know.”

“Oh, that’s not a good idea,” Hawkes says, and Dog barks in agreement.

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Prompt: Mabari


It’s My Side of the Bed

“My darling, light of my life, my most precious gift…” Zevran cupped her cheeks in his hands and she playfully rolled her eyes. “Think about it, we find ourselves in a bed after days and days on the road.” He started trailing kisses up her neck. “Don’t you think we could make a better use of the bed than Petunia?”

Read on Ao3

{under the cut for length}

Keep reading

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This one was a lot of fun to write; I grinned at my screen while editing. I give you some FenHawke birthday fluff. AO3 link here.

“Are you certain this will please Hawke?”

Varric sighed. “Elf, you’ve heard of Ferelden, right? The land of mud and dogs? Of course it’ll please her. Hawke’s been wanting a mabari for years, ever since her own passed.”

Fenris raised his eyebrow at the caramel-colored ball of fluff squirming in his arms, wishing it would stay still for one second; he’d never forgive himself if he dropped it. He picked up his pace across the bridge to Hightown.

“Where are you running to?” Varric called as he chased after him.

“Getting her to Hawke,” Fenris replied.

“Why? The party isn’t until tonight.”

Fenris huffed. “You try explaining how her birthday present imprinted on its giver.” Varric hurried to match his stride.

“Just… don’t be too nice to it. Does it like you?”

“Apart from the trembling and numerous escape attempts, we’re getting along famously.”

“Damn, don’t scare me. Do you know how much a mabari costs?”

“Mhmm, I happen to have purchased one recently.”

“How Hawke puts up with you sometimes is beyond me.” Fenris went to shrug, and nearly dumped the puppy onto the cobblestones. Leading the puppy on a leash would’ve only fostered imprinting, so they had to carry her home.

They crossed the square to Hawke’s house. Fenris shushed Orana’s happy squeals and slipped into the kitchen before Hawke saw him. Hopefully the puppy wouldn’t whine loudly if he left her there while they prepared for the party.

The hours dragged on. Fenris couldn’t concentrate, his mind going to the kitchen. Things were going smoothly, almost too smoothly, for his taste. Before dinner, he peeked in the larder and took inventory. Blanket. Food bowl. Water. Pup— He ran into hall, his eyes wide. “Orana,” he called, “Orana, come here right now.” No response. Kaffas, venhedis, fasta vass—

He startled and flared blue when he rounded the corner. There was Hawke squealing in delight as she scratched the dog’s ear and kissed its head.

“Who’s this?” she asked with a smile. The blood draining from his cheeks.


“What a good girl you are, yes! She’s adorable. What’s she doing here?”

Venhedis. The secret was out, might as well.  “Happy Birthday,” Fenris said. Hawke’s eyes grew wide.

“‘Happy Birthd—’ Fenris of Kirkwall, you conniving little elf!” She launched herself at him and peppered him with kisses. “She’s beautiful! What’s her name?”

“She’s yours, I thought it best if you named her.” He trailed off midsentence when the puppy plopped onto his foot, leaning against his leg with a tiny sigh.

“I think she chose you, Fen,” Hawke replied, mouth twitching from suppressed laughter. “Look how much she likes you.”

“Go to your mistress,” he said, nudging the dog towards Hawke, “you’re supposed to be hers.” The dog merely stiffened and grumbled at his rudeness.

Fenris frowned. “Stop answering back… no, don’t look at me like that.” Heaving a sigh, he relented and submitted to the inevitable. Even if it was a faulty birthday gift, it was adorable.

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Dog had many two-legged creatures it loved. 

The one with many scents and forms spoke harshly, but they were easy to persuade. A few well-timed whimpers and they shared  the food. And sometimes, a well-deserved pat.  Dog loved them, for even if they pretended to be unfriendly, their heart was good. 

The noise one, always smelling like bitter plants and sweat, was the best snuggling buddy. Sometimes, they’d sleep on the ground, mumbling, and grunting. So Dog joined them. Because even if they were loud, their soul was lonely. And Dog gave them love.

The quiet one often ignored it, but sometimes they would feed Dog and call it a warrior. Dog liked to sit next to them in silence. Dog loved them for they knew what it meant to be a warrior and fight for the right cause. 

The one that was two always tricked Dog into bathing, but it was no matter. Dog always jumped in the next mud puddle. It liked doing that. It made everyone laugh. Dog loved them. Because when a wound made it hard to move, they took away the pain.

The younger one confused Dog. They always made the weirdest faces and noises. But they were an easy target. Dog liked to jump on them and lick their face and bite their noses. Dog loved them, for they were the perfect playing buddy. 

And the one always weeping and shivering in the night, afraid of the dark. Dog liked to lick the tears away and make them giggle with wet kisses. They saved Dog and gave it a new purpose in life. They fed and snuggled it and call it Fluffy. And Fluffy was happy to be at their side until its bones will crack and its breath will stop. Because Fluffy loved them.

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