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What happened to all the fenris x bukkake prompts?
Whyfore no isabela bukkake prompts?
Why WHY are there no isabela AND fenris bukkake prompts?!?
Fenris and Isabela taking a break from sailing lessons
"You just need to know how to touch her just right," Isabela said as she slid her hand over Fenris’, closing it over his as he gripped the wheel. "She’s like a nobleman’s daughter; haughty, but begging to be tamed."
"You haven’t been talking about the sea for an hour now, have you?" Fenris released the wheel and stepped away from it, out of her reach. The sun beat hot on the deck, but the cool salt spray over the side made up for it, and Fenris leaned on the railing, looking out at the open ocean.
"Of course I have! Tsk, with a tongue like that, you’re not going to get far at sea." Isabela stood next to him, pinching his chin between her fingers and turning his head so he faced her. "First rule: the Captain’s word is law, and you never question her."
"And if the Captain tells me to jump off of the stern?"
"You say, ‘aye Captain’ and do it tout suite."
"Perhaps you need a private lesson." Isabela slid one finger from Fenris’ chin to hook into the collar of his shirt. She tugged, and he followed. "What do you say if the Captain drags you into her cabin and tells you to get on your knees to properly serve her?"
A small smirk crept up Fenris’ lips.
"Aye, Captain," he said, and Isabela grinned.
"See? You aren’t such a slow learner after all."
the hanged man is busy and reeking and loud, as always. fenris does a slow scan of the room under the pretense of finding an empty seat, and shoots a surreptitious glance (just in case anyone’s watching) to her usual spot at the bar. it’s empty.
the funny feeling in his chest, he decides, is probably some form of dehydration or hunger. he claims a small table in the corner and orders a pint. when it comes, he drinks it very slowly, and tries not to look like he’s waiting for anyone.
because he isn’t.
Happy birthday lafemmedarla! You said you wanted Fenabela for your birthday, and people are always saying they’d read about Fenris and Isabela doing their taxes, and I’m doing MY taxes, so… enjoy!
"You don’t own a parrot."
"If they audit us I’ll buy one. Stick it in. Two r’s, remember."
Fenris sighed and painstakingly wrote “Parrot” in the provided space, using large, round letters.
He’d laughed at her when she asked. Snorted, with a dry chuckle, and said, “You haven’t got a ship, Isabela.”
Which was probably why Isabela was writing down a list of all the reasons Fenris would make a terrible pirate.
He could look the part, definitely. She had no trouble picturing the elf in a sailor’s clothes, curved sword at his hip, terrorizing the waking sea with his blazing lyrium brands and his swordsmanship.
(She had pictured the sight rather often, of late, though just how often she would admit to no one.)
The look he could do, but the attitude? There he fell rather short. When she really thought about it, there was no one less suited to the life of a pirate than Fenris.
Even that subtly smart-assed rebuttal to her invitation showed him nowhere near deserving of a post on her ship. So what if she had no ship?! Technicalities! Isabela was still a sea captain even long after her ship ran aground. Anyone you met on the docks would tell you that. When she was ready to leave, she’d have a new ship to command in no time.
That was the first thing about piracy, a thing that the elf clearly did not understand: Once a pirate, always a pirate, whether on land or sea, until the day you die.
She wrote that on a blank sheet of paper she’d swiped from Varric’s suite, and liked the way it looked. Then she wrote a big #1 next to it, and stuck the feathery end of the quill (which she’d also swiped) in her mouth and thought it over.
OMG SO CUTE
It was the social event of the season - or at least of this week. Hightown had been all abuzz with excitement in the days and hours leading up to this evening. The De Launcets, in the true Orlesian fashion, knew how to throw a ball. The best food, the best musicians, the best decorations, and all the best people.
So why did Marian keep looking longingly up at the sky, watching the moon rise ever higher and longing for a darkspawn attack?
She adjusted her uncomfortable gown and smiled forcibly at yet another acquaintance of her mother’s nodding to her as she passed. How in the world did her mother know so many people? Marian was the one traipsing all over the city and out into the countryside, by any rights she should be the one to know these faces. Of course, she usually kept an entirely different kind of company.
A company she sorely missed right now. She was so out of place here. Ten years ago someone had taken all the girls aside and given them a script and a set of dance steps, and Marian must have been sick abed that day. She had no earthly idea what to do with herself at these things.
She paced through the courtyard, pretending to look for a friend amongst the young women clustered around the garden in groups of two and three. From one of the servants she accepted a cordial of wine - would have grabbed three if she could, they were so pitifully small - and held it aloft, grateful for something to do with her hands.
Where in the world was her mother? If she could just be seen by her, maybe get introduced to more people whose names and faces she would immediately forget, she could justify slipping out the back door.
Had Marian been slightly more attentive to the sky at that moment, she might have noticed an elven swordsman and a Rivaini pirate slipping across the roof of the darkened mansion next door and climbing down into a wrought-iron balcony.
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