Re: Everyone/Everyone "Sometimes these things just happen?" 3/?
anonymous
June 19 2011, 05:22:33 UTC
The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Andraste’s face, staring at him from across the room with beady eyes peering out of a belt buckle. It was enough to make him scream like a little girl.
He’d done it. Somehow, some way, he’d slept with Sebastian. That was the only way Anders could reason out waking up half-dressed in what looked to be a Chantry cell, with Sebastian’s armor laying draped over a chair.
He wasn’t sure whether to be proud of himself for getting the stalwart Chantry brother to break his vows, or supremely disturbed that he didn’t remember a single thing about it.
That was too bad, really. Sebastian was incredibly attractive, if you liked the sanctimonious, better-than-thou types.
Anders had done it with Templars. There really wasn’t much he could say for himself at this point.
There was a sudden knock on the door that sent him flying out of bed, looking for his clothing. Where were his robes? Where were his robes?!
“Brother Sebastian? Is everything alright?” A voice called through the door, and in a panic Anders threw on the first thing he found - one of Sebastian’s shirts - and looked around desperately for his boots, his staff, anything. Where was all his stuff? “Brother Sebastian? We heard a scream.”
“Um, uh, yes! Everything’s alright, sister. Just a bad dream.”
It was a bad dream, in fact. The voice that came out of his mouth wasn’t anything like his own, and all of a sudden he had an accent.
Re: Everyone/Everyone "Sometimes these things just happen?" 5/?
anonymous
June 19 2011, 05:25:51 UTC
Damn you numbering fail! Previous part is part 4. This is part 5. Welcome to part 5!
**
“What’s wrong honey?” Donnic said, looking confused and a little hurt at the way his wife was hiding most of her pale, naked body behind a pillow.
“Donnic. Riiiight. Okay, here’s the thing, guy.” Varric had decided to tread carefully; it’d been quite a while since he was in one of these sorts of situations and-
No, scratch that. He’d never been in this kind of situation. There wasn’t once in his life that he could remember waking up a) in the body of a human, b) in the body of a human woman, c) in the body of a human woman who could kill him with her bare hands, or d) next to the husband of said human woman with the death grip.
There was a reason he was a one-crossbow man. This shit was complex.
“How surprised would you be to find out that I’m not Aveline, I’m Varric?”
The look on Donnic’s face moved from confused to disbelieving to annoyed and finally, to Varric’s relief and the stalwart guardsman’s credit, to acceptance. “Why do I feel like Hawke has something to do with this?”
“This is Kirkwall. When doesn’t Hawke have something to do with it?”
“Hey Varric?” Donnic said a moment later as they dressed in silence.
Re: Everyone/Everyone "Sometimes these things just happen?" 6/?
anonymous
June 19 2011, 05:29:32 UTC
Her feet didn’t touch the floor when she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Instead, they dangled about a foot from it, and she kicked them in the air, fascinated by the movement.
It was almost as fascinating, she had to admit, as the fabulous wealth of chest hair that sprouted all over her torso. Luxurious chest hair. Thick chest hair. Soft and silky like the fur of one of those posh Hightown dogs that shit all over everything, only better because it undoubtedly was Varric’s chest hair, and everyone in Kirkwall knew that the dwarf had the manliest chest hair to ever manly Manly-town.
Or at least, Isabela thought they should know. If they didn’t know, she intended to show them.
But, after all, first things first.
“Oh, Bianca,” she purred, disturbed and aroused in equal measure at the way her words sounded coming out in Varric’s voice. “I’ve been waiting a long, long time.”
Re: Everyone/Everyone "Sometimes these things just happen?" 6/?
anonymous
June 19 2011, 05:36:40 UTC
BRB write!anon, first I must resurrect myself for I am ded.
In particular of all of these Varric with Donnic and Isabela with Bianca are my favorites, but they're all hysterical. Please to be giving us more sweet, sweet crack.
Re: Everyone/Everyone "Sometimes these things just happen?" 6/?
anonymous
June 19 2011, 05:48:53 UTC
This is HILARIOUS. Like can't breathe, tears rolling down my cheeks, uproarious. I am hard-pressed to choose a favorite, but Aveline, Sebastian and Merrill waking up in bed together as Hawke/Fenris/Isabela might take the cake. Though the rest were all epic as well.
Re: Everyone/Everyone "Sometimes these things just happen?" 6/?
anonymous
June 19 2011, 11:19:40 UTC
HAHAHA! Author!Anon will you marry me? Seriously though, this is hilarious! Fenris with a full head, Anders "sleeping" with Sebastian, Merril flexing in front of the mirror! Maker, I think my head may explode! I'll be here, eagerly awaiting more.
Re: Everyone/Everyone "Sometimes these things just happen?" 6/?
anonymous
June 19 2011, 13:21:54 UTC
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD I JUST PEED MY PAJAMAS LAUGHING
I LOVE THIS FIC AND THE AUTHOR!ANON AND OMG EVERYTHING IS RAINBOWS AND BUTTERFLIES AND THE SWEET SWEET SCHADENFREUDE OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO *offers plates of cookies, babies and the whole Internet to auth!anon*
Re: Everyone/Everyone "Sometimes these things just happen?" 7/?
anonymous
June 19 2011, 15:53:02 UTC
Somehow the best decision they could come up with amongst themselves was to stay put at Hawke’s house until help arrived. Or, at least, until Hawke came back in whatever body she might happen to be wearing at the time and Aveline could strangle her to death.
It was a little alarming, the way no one but her seemed to be bothered by this turn of events. Merrill was still upstairs, modeling Fenris’ body for herself, and Sebastian had disappeared for a disturbingly long time into the washroom. He was probably crying. At least she hoped he was crying. If he wasn’t crying, she really didn’t want to think about what all of those strange noises coming through the door were.
To make matters worse, the flimsy material that passed, apparently, for Isabela’s smallclothes kept riding up uncomfortably. She’d helped herself to a pair of Hawke’s pants to put a stop to this madness, but there was nothing to be done about the breasts.
She’d always suspected there was some sort of padding hidden in the Rivaini’s clothing that turned Isabela’s assets into, well, assets, but no, no. She was wrong. Isabela apparently was just blessed with the best pair of tits this side of the Minanter.
Just one more reason to hate the bitch.
She’d been sitting downstairs in the foyer for about an hour, fuming and drinking, and then fuming because she was drinking and it was still fairly early in the morning which only lead to more drinking when Sebastian ventured out of the washroom finally, wrapped up in Hawke’s robe, and ducked into the kitchen for a sandwich before disappearing back into the washroom again.
Eventually Merrill brought Fenris’ body downstairs (briefly; Aveline had to order her to go back upstairs and put on a pair of pants - what was wrong with the Dalish?), and half-heartedly Aveline watched her phase various body parts through random household objects.
At least until Merrill had gotten Fenris’ arm stuck through the door to the foyer and couldn’t seem to figure out how to get it back out again.
Aveline thought about helping. She really did. And then, uncharacteristically, just decided she didn’t care.
She was starting to feel like a sailor marooned on a deserted island (not to mention the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking of things in terms of sailing analogies) when the door to the cellar burst open to reveal an irate looking Anders. The ends of his hair were smoking and the feathers on the shoulders of his robe had seen better days, and on the whole he looked like a bird that someone had rolled in dirt and then struck with lightning.
“This is a disaster!” he snarled, waving both arms in a way that did nothing to dispel his bizarre similarity to a bird. On cue, a shower of smoking feathers fluffed out around him and flew every which way, and he slapped himself in the face. “No, Justice, I did not ask for your opinion! You will be silent, or else I will-”
Aveline could only watch as Anders’ other hand reached out jerkily and lifted up to slap the other side of his face.
“How dare you- ow, ow!”
Justice had apparently decided to strike back with a vengeance. That was sort of funny, if you thought about it.
Re: Everyone/Everyone "Sometimes these things just happen?" 8/?
anonymous
June 19 2011, 15:58:47 UTC
It had taken him a little while to understand that somehow, some way, he’d ended up in Sebastian’s body.
At least he thought it was Sebastian’s. Anders was pretty sure, as no one else in Kirkwall would be naïve enough to wear Andraste’s face over his crotch (except maybe Merrill, but since she was a crazy blood mage who thought demons were our friends, he considered that sort of unlikely). And no one else was stupid enough to wear shining white armor that said to the enemy, clearly, “shoot me!”
But the arms weren’t his. The legs weren’t his. The feet weren’t his, and when he took a good long look down the front of his pants - nope, that wasn’t his either. And he should know. Ever since he’d met Hawke, he and his dick had become very good friends.
It was, one could say, an injustice.
When he realized he was waiting for a mental slap to the back of the head that wasn’t going to come, he really shouldn’t have giggled (Sebastian sounded like a total creeper when he giggled).
What he should have done was strap on Sebastian’s Great White Armor of Chastity. And he should have gone to look for Hawke and the others to find out what sort of spell-fuckery had gone wrong this time, and maybe even to track down his own body to see what had become of it and Justice.
He should have done all of those things, but instead he didn’t do any of them (no one could ever say Anders was afraid to commit to a cause, one way or the other). You see, Anders needed a vacation. Badly. And this body needed to be appreciated and adored for all of its hot, holy glory. Not to mention he was pretty sure there were dust and cobwebs amassing in the priest’s nether regions.
Sebastian would thank him later.
Maybe.
**
“I’ll take one of everything.”
Madame Lusine could only stare at the handsome if somewhat disheveled looking man with the Starkhaven accent, at the big pile of coins in front of her, and wonder at her good luck.
Oh my god you guys, I don't even know what this is, but THANK YOU FOR LOVING IT ANYWAY!
I have no idea where this story is going since I've never started posting one before it was entirely finished, but I'll be updating this as quickly as possible (what to do with a free Sunday, a case of beer and a laptop? Obvious conclusion - write DA2 crackfic!).
The real question is - how do we all feel about a lot of random porn?
He’d done it. Somehow, some way, he’d slept with Sebastian. That was the only way Anders could reason out waking up half-dressed in what looked to be a Chantry cell, with Sebastian’s armor laying draped over a chair.
He wasn’t sure whether to be proud of himself for getting the stalwart Chantry brother to break his vows, or supremely disturbed that he didn’t remember a single thing about it.
That was too bad, really. Sebastian was incredibly attractive, if you liked the sanctimonious, better-than-thou types.
Anders had done it with Templars. There really wasn’t much he could say for himself at this point.
There was a sudden knock on the door that sent him flying out of bed, looking for his clothing. Where were his robes? Where were his robes?!
“Brother Sebastian? Is everything alright?” A voice called through the door, and in a panic Anders threw on the first thing he found - one of Sebastian’s shirts - and looked around desperately for his boots, his staff, anything. Where was all his stuff? “Brother Sebastian? We heard a scream.”
“Um, uh, yes! Everything’s alright, sister. Just a bad dream.”
It was a bad dream, in fact. The voice that came out of his mouth wasn’t anything like his own, and all of a sudden he had an accent.
Reply
**
“What’s wrong honey?” Donnic said, looking confused and a little hurt at the way his wife was hiding most of her pale, naked body behind a pillow.
“Donnic. Riiiight. Okay, here’s the thing, guy.” Varric had decided to tread carefully; it’d been quite a while since he was in one of these sorts of situations and-
No, scratch that. He’d never been in this kind of situation. There wasn’t once in his life that he could remember waking up a) in the body of a human, b) in the body of a human woman, c) in the body of a human woman who could kill him with her bare hands, or d) next to the husband of said human woman with the death grip.
There was a reason he was a one-crossbow man. This shit was complex.
“How surprised would you be to find out that I’m not Aveline, I’m Varric?”
The look on Donnic’s face moved from confused to disbelieving to annoyed and finally, to Varric’s relief and the stalwart guardsman’s credit, to acceptance. “Why do I feel like Hawke has something to do with this?”
“This is Kirkwall. When doesn’t Hawke have something to do with it?”
“Hey Varric?” Donnic said a moment later as they dressed in silence.
“Yeah buddy?”
“Sorry for grabbing your ass.”
“It’s okay bro. It’s okay.”
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It was almost as fascinating, she had to admit, as the fabulous wealth of chest hair that sprouted all over her torso. Luxurious chest hair. Thick chest hair. Soft and silky like the fur of one of those posh Hightown dogs that shit all over everything, only better because it undoubtedly was Varric’s chest hair, and everyone in Kirkwall knew that the dwarf had the manliest chest hair to ever manly Manly-town.
Or at least, Isabela thought they should know. If they didn’t know, she intended to show them.
But, after all, first things first.
“Oh, Bianca,” she purred, disturbed and aroused in equal measure at the way her words sounded coming out in Varric’s voice. “I’ve been waiting a long, long time.”
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In particular of all of these Varric with Donnic and Isabela with Bianca are my favorites, but they're all hysterical. Please to be giving us more sweet, sweet crack.
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Captcha: community eyounts
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Oh, will Justice protect Anders virtue? Oh the endless possibilities of lulz.
Will await more.
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No apologies necessary, AA! You are the paragon of awesomeness! And I love your swaps!!!!
Look! I'm a firefly! ROTFLMAO
please, ser, can I have more? ♥
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I LOVE THIS FIC AND THE AUTHOR!ANON AND OMG EVERYTHING IS RAINBOWS AND BUTTERFLIES AND THE SWEET SWEET SCHADENFREUDE OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO *offers plates of cookies, babies and the whole Internet to auth!anon*
Reply
It was a little alarming, the way no one but her seemed to be bothered by this turn of events. Merrill was still upstairs, modeling Fenris’ body for herself, and Sebastian had disappeared for a disturbingly long time into the washroom. He was probably crying. At least she hoped he was crying. If he wasn’t crying, she really didn’t want to think about what all of those strange noises coming through the door were.
To make matters worse, the flimsy material that passed, apparently, for Isabela’s smallclothes kept riding up uncomfortably. She’d helped herself to a pair of Hawke’s pants to put a stop to this madness, but there was nothing to be done about the breasts.
She’d always suspected there was some sort of padding hidden in the Rivaini’s clothing that turned Isabela’s assets into, well, assets, but no, no. She was wrong. Isabela apparently was just blessed with the best pair of tits this side of the Minanter.
Just one more reason to hate the bitch.
She’d been sitting downstairs in the foyer for about an hour, fuming and drinking, and then fuming because she was drinking and it was still fairly early in the morning which only lead to more drinking when Sebastian ventured out of the washroom finally, wrapped up in Hawke’s robe, and ducked into the kitchen for a sandwich before disappearing back into the washroom again.
Eventually Merrill brought Fenris’ body downstairs (briefly; Aveline had to order her to go back upstairs and put on a pair of pants - what was wrong with the Dalish?), and half-heartedly Aveline watched her phase various body parts through random household objects.
At least until Merrill had gotten Fenris’ arm stuck through the door to the foyer and couldn’t seem to figure out how to get it back out again.
Aveline thought about helping. She really did. And then, uncharacteristically, just decided she didn’t care.
She was starting to feel like a sailor marooned on a deserted island (not to mention the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking of things in terms of sailing analogies) when the door to the cellar burst open to reveal an irate looking Anders. The ends of his hair were smoking and the feathers on the shoulders of his robe had seen better days, and on the whole he looked like a bird that someone had rolled in dirt and then struck with lightning.
“This is a disaster!” he snarled, waving both arms in a way that did nothing to dispel his bizarre similarity to a bird. On cue, a shower of smoking feathers fluffed out around him and flew every which way, and he slapped himself in the face. “No, Justice, I did not ask for your opinion! You will be silent, or else I will-”
Aveline could only watch as Anders’ other hand reached out jerkily and lifted up to slap the other side of his face.
“How dare you- ow, ow!”
Justice had apparently decided to strike back with a vengeance. That was sort of funny, if you thought about it.
Reply
At least he thought it was Sebastian’s. Anders was pretty sure, as no one else in Kirkwall would be naïve enough to wear Andraste’s face over his crotch (except maybe Merrill, but since she was a crazy blood mage who thought demons were our friends, he considered that sort of unlikely). And no one else was stupid enough to wear shining white armor that said to the enemy, clearly, “shoot me!”
But the arms weren’t his. The legs weren’t his. The feet weren’t his, and when he took a good long look down the front of his pants - nope, that wasn’t his either. And he should know. Ever since he’d met Hawke, he and his dick had become very good friends.
It was, one could say, an injustice.
When he realized he was waiting for a mental slap to the back of the head that wasn’t going to come, he really shouldn’t have giggled (Sebastian sounded like a total creeper when he giggled).
What he should have done was strap on Sebastian’s Great White Armor of Chastity. And he should have gone to look for Hawke and the others to find out what sort of spell-fuckery had gone wrong this time, and maybe even to track down his own body to see what had become of it and Justice.
He should have done all of those things, but instead he didn’t do any of them (no one could ever say Anders was afraid to commit to a cause, one way or the other). You see, Anders needed a vacation. Badly. And this body needed to be appreciated and adored for all of its hot, holy glory. Not to mention he was pretty sure there were dust and cobwebs amassing in the priest’s nether regions.
Sebastian would thank him later.
Maybe.
**
“I’ll take one of everything.”
Madame Lusine could only stare at the handsome if somewhat disheveled looking man with the Starkhaven accent, at the big pile of coins in front of her, and wonder at her good luck.
Reply
I have no idea where this story is going since I've never started posting one before it was entirely finished, but I'll be updating this as quickly as possible (what to do with a free Sunday, a case of beer and a laptop? Obvious conclusion - write DA2 crackfic!).
The real question is - how do we all feel about a lot of random porn?
Reply
Give to us the random porn!
And the crack. Don't skimp on the crack.
Crack and porn. That's all I'm saying.
Reply
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