Gargolain's lair

There's only so much good a man can take when he ain't so good himself ✥ You remind me of what I could've been, but that reminder ain't much help sc_online_t(1140586,"wandering souls","#bababa"); Tumblr Users Online Counter

[gargolainn]

{Revamp} Directorio de personajes originales

060. Isaiah Carver ➝ [x] & [x]

[cruciatusrpg-blog1]

Character Concept {Marjory Strother}

And I’m on trial, waiting ‘til the beat comes out

[gargolainn]

Aesthetics » Evelina Wolfwarhl

You take it ten steps too far Face to the floor, you’re still seeing stars You’re telling cold, cold lies From your heart of a rusted gold

In her childhood, her mother would say, if she was sober enough, that she was a beautiful, lovely child. But beautiful and lovely were not synonyms for worthy of love, and so neither her mother nor her father looked her way very often. She made her brother the shrine at whose feet she would lay all her love, and he would say do not waste your love on me, my sister, for he was as unworthy as she herself felt.

After her brother came Rayner, and he found her worthy of pain, of a twisted devotion, of being broken. And so she shed her beauty and her grace like a second skin and became cold and vicious instead, because that way she would not long for love. When Erik came, he found only a black hole where a bright star had once been and took it upon himself to heal the damage caused over the years.

Not because she was beautiful and lovely, but because he found her worthy of love when she did not dare to hope anymore.

[gargolainn]

DA:O Wardens Picspams

—Lyna Mahariel & Aline Cousland

Heart that is broken, beats still unceasing, An ocean of sorrow does nobody drown. —Andraste 1:7

The Maker smiles sadly on his Grey Wardens, so the Chantry says, as no sacrifice is greater than theirs.

[gargolainn]

Hope is like a knife. With every word and every gesture it goes deeper until the moment you cannot pull it out without bleeding out. 

The Broken Youth (pt. 2) — The Girls

[gargolainn]

Aren’t we all beautifully broken? Every little shard of our soul scattered on the ground, cutting the feet of those whose lives intersect with ours. 

The Broken Youth (pt. 1) — The Boys

[gargolainn]

Aesthetics » Miksa Wolfwarhl

Seven devils all around you Seven devils in my house See they were there when I woke up this morning And I'll be dead before the day is done

Usually, her mother’s friends would agree that he was delightful and his sister lovely. What a charming little gentleman, they would say, and what a sweet little princess we have here. They said those words not out of love for them or their mother, but because that kind of paraphernalia was expected within the intricate dynamics of fake, interest-built relationships. There was nothing delightful, nothing charming in his steely and eerie expression or in the way he stared at everything like he couldn’t get enough understanding of the world surrounding him, like he wanted to have it all, always hungry and expectant.

But he grew up to be delightful and charming, all captivating lies and easy smiles, because time had given to him the very understanding he had sought in his infancy, and that understanding he kept to himself. He twisted purposes and entranced people to create the very loopholes he needed to achieve what he wanted, not caring for the wreckage left in his wake. He was secretive and dangerous not because he sought to destroy, but because he pursued knowledge, and knowledge is somewhat destructive.

[gargolainn]

Aesthetics » Maximilian Wolfwarhl

There's only so much good a man can take When he ain't so good himself You remind me of what I could've been But that reminder ain't much help

I’ve become dad.

One day, the thought comes. Just like that, no warning, no prior notice. Years ago, back to when Gerhardt was still his hero despite the lack of calls or letters, that thought might have been comforting; now, it just like rubbing salt on an open wound, and he relishes that pain.

He laughs, ducking his head, a hollow sound that resonates in the dimly lit room. It is not expensive, it is not comfortable, and the sheer access to the drinks cabinet costs as much as the room itself, but it is the last place Dietrich would look, even if he knew he is in the city. Which he does not, because Max never tells him.

And that is why he knows he has become his father —because people like his father just leave—, although Max has always referred to it as simply running away. He does not know if Gerhardt Wolfwarhl was a coward or a bastard, but he knows he is both those things.

He twists the thick glass in his hand and watches as the honey-colored liquid inside waves slowly, softy. Max wonders if he is just retracing steps, and imagines calling his brother, or Angela, or Cassiel, maybe even Ceinlys because he is in the perfect mood to have his heart broken a little bit more, and then fantasizes with having his old job back and asking forgiveness, or maybe giving it.

[gargolainn]

Home Meme → Carsten Wenzel & Alfred Wolfwarhl

house & garden

[gargolainn]

Aesthetics » Andreas DeRaar & Milou Nizak

And we know that we're headstrong And our heart's gone And the timing's never right But for now let's get away On a Roman holiday

"I can call you right now. And whisper in your ear all the reasons why you deserve better."

"Please don't. Problem is, I fucked things up with Better as well. So much that she changed countries and everything."

"You know, it was my fault too. And I might be coming back."

[gargolainn]

OTP Aesthetics » Alec van Bour & Alya Tahar

Your brown eyes are my blue skies They light up the rivers that the birds fly over Better not to quench your thirst Better not to be the first one diving in Though you caught me and you know why You breathe in the deepest part of the water

He’s leaning over the table in a position that, Alya notices, is a bit risky considering the glasses of wine and the dinner that will probably end up in his tie. His hand feels warm and comforting, holding firmly her jaw as he breathes over her lips. The silence stretches and she briefly considers warning him of the peril his clothes are in.

She decides against it when she glimpses a hint of panic in his eyes. Because she hasn’t said anything. At all.

“Oh.”

Yup, Alya. Very eloquent. You just won a prize in rhetoric.

And Alec nearly panics, despite his apparent nonchalance. He tries to withdraw, but Alya moves quicker, covering his hand with one of hers and keeping it where it is placed.

“Was that a kiss?” she asks, her soft tone almost a whisper for him only. “I believe that was a kiss. I’m not sure, though.”

Alec fights back a smile that would have been too shy for his liking, and avoids eye-contact before answering, “It wasn’t too… forward, was it?”

“I don’t know. To be honest I’m still not sure it was a proper kiss. You might want to repeat the performance. To make sure, you know.”

[gargolainn]

Codex Entry: Inquisitor Maxwell Trevelyan

Modest in temper, bold in deed

Sister Leliana,

As much as I understand and share your concerns, I must warn you that I am in no position whatsoever of easing them. It is true that I was a tutor for the young Trevelyan in his early years but, as you may know, he was taken to the Circle of Ostwick at the tender age of eight. Therefore, I am afraid there is not much useful information that I can provide you with.

I will, however, try to help you to the best of my abilities. I can tell you that the young Trevelyan showed an unusual sharpness of mind from a very young age. To the exasperation of both his progenitors, he was very questioning of the Chantry and the Maker, but his attitude was dismissed as no more than a child’s curiosity.

He grew up to be a bright and charming boy with a knack for getting into all kinds of trouble, not only himself, but also his older sister Marjory. They were the youngest and very close in age, hence they were rarely seen without one another. I have my suspicions that the young Lord’s magic talents manifested long before his parents were made aware, and that it was his sister who kept it a safe secret until it grew out of control.  

You can imagine the commotion when, during one of the family’s social gatherings, the young Lord became upset over his food and all the paintings in the dinning hall caught fire. Lady Trevelyan refused to see her son after that incident, convinced that his magic was somehow a punishment from the Maker for her leniency towards his heretic attitude.

Both the young Trevelyan and his sister were heartbroken the hours prior to the arrival of the Templars and, despite multiple promises, both siblings never saw each other again. I know for certain that Lady Marjory wrote to him almost every week, but no letters ever arrived in return.

—Fragment of a letter sent by Brother Consus, appointed scribe of the Trevelyan household, in Dragon 9:41.

[gargolainn]

Twenty One Pilots + Wolfwarhl family (pt. 1)

Clear, Goner, Oh Ms Believer, Anathema

[gargolainn]

Take a good look at yourself before you call me criminal [x]

[gargolainn]

OTP Aesthetics » Gilbert Bosworth & Katya van Bour

Do you realize I would lie for you? Please, have my last breath, I would die for you I know I'm no good but my heart beats true You know I'm gonna fight, though I might be scared to lose

“Thank you,” he breathes out into her hair.

“It’s nothing,” she replies with a shiver, but Gilbert only shakes his head slightly and tightens his arms around her.

“It’s not nothing,” he says, his voice soft and calming like the murmur of the ocean. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she finally acknowledges with a shaky breath and watery eyes. “Always.”

[gargolainn]

Original Characters in Social Media pt. 2

↠ Tumblr

[gargolainn]

Original Characters in Social Media pt. 1

↠ Tumblr