. ; all have fallen

You wouldn't reconsider dying, would you? independent & selective. ( Canon Divergent Hawke. Not the Champion of Kirkwall. )

[nochampions]

december kicked my ass and its not even over yet.

[mmimilin]

in the end, you are always alone in your actions

[fireflywaterfly]

Honestly the biggest tragedy in dragon age is that i cant have both Marian and Garrett Hawke in the same game. 

[the-ephyre-deactivated20210324]

You know it’s true

[gutspilt]

     *    ANGSTY  BOJACK  HORSEMAN  ASK   MEMES  !

‘  i  don’t  believe  in  deep  down  .  i  kind  of  think  that  all  you  are  is  just  the  things  you  do  .  ’

‘  it’s  you  .  you  are  what  is  wrong  with  you  .  ’

‘  you  need  to  be  better  .  ’

‘  they  key  to  being  happy  isn’t  a  search  for  meaning  . it’s to just keep yourself busy with unimportant nonsense, and eventually, you’ll be dead  . ’

‘  it’s so cruel to let people love you  .  all you’re doing is promising you’ll one day break their hearts  .  ’

‘  life  is  a  series  of  closing  doors  ,  isn’t  it  ?  ’ 

‘  you  don’t  love  me  ,  we’re  just  two  lonely  people  trying  to  hate  ourselves  a  little  less  .  ’

‘  oh  ,  just  imagine  how  nice  things  could’ve  been  .  ’

‘  you  were  born  broken  ,  that’s  your  birthright  .  ’

‘  you  can  fill  your  life  with  projects  ,  and  books  ,  and  movies  ,  your  little  girlfriends  .  but  it  won’t  make  you  whole  .  ’  (feel  free  to  edit/change  pronouns)

‘  you’re  [INSERT  CHARACTER  NAME]  .  there’s  no  cure  for  that  .  ’

‘  every  day  it  gets  a  little  easier  .  but  you  gotta  do  it  every  day  ,  that’s  the  hard  part  .  but  it  does  get  easier  .  ’

‘  when  i’m  with  you  ,  i  don’t  hate  myself  .  ’

‘  nobody  ever  wants  to  hear  the  truth  .  ’

‘  it  takes  a  long  time  to  recognise  how  truly  miserable  you  are  ,  even  longer  to  see  it  doesn’t  have  to  be  that  way  .  ’

‘  when  you  look  at  someone  through  rose - coloured  glasses  ,  all  the  red  flags  just  look  like  flags  .  ’ 

‘  closure  is  a  made  up  thing  .  ’

‘  am  i  just  doomed  to  be  who  i  am  ?  ‘

‘  tell  me  i’m  good  .  ’

‘  you  make  me  too  sad  .  ’

‘  that  voice  …  the  one  that  tells  you  you’re  worthless  ,  and  stupid  ,  and  ugly  ,  it  goes  away  right  ?  ’

‘  love  does  things  to  people  .  terrible  things  .  ’

‘  i  see  you  .  ’

feel  free  to  reblog  /  add  more  .

[nochampions]

;; oh, brother

There’s a multitude of mistakes he has made in his lifetime. Coming home, he hopes, won’t be one. When he’d left a decade prior, Garrett had acted in anger and pain, hadn’t realized just how vast the world was. Hadn’t realized how many chances he would miss, how big his shortcomings would grow.

Gamlen’s home was a hovel. Kirkwall a cesspool. The long days stretched into weeks as he waits for his brothers to come home. Garrett spends more evening than he should at the docks, staring out over the water, the vial with Bethany’s ashes clutched tight in his hand. He should be there, with his mother, but after a life spend moving, it’s hard to sit still. Harder to wait.

He isn’t there when he should be. He never is. As Garrett walks back to Lowtown, rounds the corner to the place he’s trying to call home, he hears the grief long before he sees it. His mother’s wail is piercing through the open door, and Garrett’s steps still as he rounds the stairs.

“My baby boy!” Leandra shrieks, curled on her knees. Garrett moves mechanically to the doorway. “My baby!”

“What’s going on?” Garrett asks. It’s a useless question. Gamlen glares over the hunched form of a burly warrior, parts his lips with accusations, but the words don’t touch the air. Garrett cuts him off with a sharp, “Mother? What’s happened?”

[nochampions]

me: im going to come back with my original muse and not write any others

me, finding all the people i used to know are still around: HHHH MY DARLINGS LET ME WRITE EVERY MUSE FOR YOU

[nochampions]

;; blood of my blood

[nochampions]

zaldrizi‌:

she  can  still  hear  their  screeches  .  embedded  into  her  ears  ,  haunting  her  stone  shelled  heart  .  she’s  conquered  cities  ,  laid  waste  to  armies   &   watched  as  the  chains  were  cast  off  by  those  who  did  not  want  them  .  this  …  however  ,  was  different  .  her  connection  to  her  children  was  all  she  had  .  the  blood  of  the  dragon  and  she  could  not  save  them  .  protect  them  .  her  facade  was  falling  ,  even  as  she  willed  the  curtain  to  remain  .  keep  her  eyes  dry  ,  scream  inside  .

the  tunnels  were  dark  ,  no  one  would  see  ,  no  one  but  Grey  Worm  .  but  he’d  seen  so  many  of  her  faces  now  ,  this  one  couldn’t  be  new  .  heartbreak  hadn’t  been  few   &   far  between  but  haunting  ,  frequent  .  to  the  point  one  becomes  used  to  it  .  yet  ,  she  equates  those  screeches  of  pain  to  her  children  ,  the  only  ones  she’ll  have  .  believing  that  they  were  kin  ,  feeling  every  inch  of  her  twist  beneath  the  cave  system  .

❛    let  him  pass  ,  Grey  Worm  .   ❜   how  hallow  her  voice  sounded  now  .  ❛    what  do  you  want  ,  Hawke  ?  I  have  provided  all  I  can  in  this  effort  .    ❜

It’s like something essential inside of her had slipped, just slightly, out of place. Now she threatened to topple at any second, like the ancient ruins of this mountain. He barely knows her, but he knows what it’s like to break into pieces. Garrett swallows against the dryness in his throat, a million memories and whispers wrapping around him like an old friend best left forgotten.

The old knight moves at last and Garrett doesn’t bother to spare him a second look. Formidable warrior he might be, but he was nothing more than a dog to this defenseless little woman. Don’t exaggerate, he reminds himself. Defenseless wasn’t entirely accurate. She had a dragon at her beck and call, after all. There was strength under her softness, and Garrett couldn’t afford to doubt her ability to hide and hold a dagger.

Garrett drops himself down next to her, careful to give her enough space. He watches her sidelong, wondering if he really needs to ask what’s on his mind: Why was she so quiet? A few beats pass before Garrett looks into the fire and says, “I know you’re new around here, but that doesn’t mean you're not part of this team. You can tell us your grievances.”

[nochampions]

guess who finally installed xkit and can go replies now

[nochampions]

open plotting call since i can only write starters until friday.

[charmianross-deactivated2021100]

[nochampions]

;; blood of my blood

@zaldrizi

Shadows are longer and darker when its corpses that hide beneath the gloom. But after a long day of culling dragons and executing cultists, their band of misfits falls into easy, relieved chatter, excited for the mysteries beyond. They do not talk of the dragon on the hill, a supposed reincarnation of Andraste herself. Garrett doesn’t mind. He’s never been one for Chantry rhetoric or debates of faith.

What he does mind is the pocket of silence looming at the edge of their group. It’s unsettling. Daenerys might be a new arrival, both to their quest and Thedas as a whole, but in the short few days he’s known her, Garrett hasn’t known her to withhold her opinion.

He goes to the Warden first. Explains his concern, but gets rebuffed: There’s so much prep to do for tomorrow. If he’s so worried, why doesn’t he handle it himself? Well, fine, maybe he will.

Garrett stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the suspicious stare of Daenerys’ ever-present guardian until the man is intercepting his path, preventing him from sitting at the dragon queen’s side. Garrett grunts, "What? Do I need her grace’s permission to proceed?” The sarcasm is needless, but nonetheless potent. His amber gaze slides past what’s-his-name’s shoulder to find hers. “Call off your toy soldier, will you?”

[nochampions]

;; offered

cont. from here

Garrett’s armor clinks as he shifts in the silence that follows his friend’s declaration. A few moments more, and he lets out a long, tired sigh. “This is the problem with your blighted nation,” Garrett grouses, amber eyes flaring in the light from their fire. “Always going on about wrong and right, like anyone knows better than anyone else.” A huff.

“You’re going to have to live with your decision,” Garrett says, twisting to stare him down. It’s not that Alistair was wrong to do what he did. There’s a certain justice in freeing those mages of the demonic influences ruling over them. But wasn’t there a better way? Soft whispers swirl through his mind, promising him the secrets of the world for the smallest shred of his soul: No. Garrett claps Alistair heavily on the shoulder.

“Just do better next time.”

[nochampions]

tldr; this is a trash website.

[nochampions]

;; wingman

cont. from here

Damn. She was mad. Garrett wastes the first five seconds of his precious thirty trying to figure out what to say next; honestly, he’d thought he would have to kick down her door to get her to talk to him. Having Nimia actually answer the phone wasn’t something he’d prepared for.

     “--uh,” Garrett stutters uselessly. “Well, uh, see-- Alright, so I’m pretty sure I fucked up your chances with what’s-his-face. But I can make it up to you? Apology breakfast? I’ll cook and everything.”

[adamdalgliesh]

Michiel Huisman as Dawsey Adams in The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (2018) dir. Mike Newell

[mshenkoscabin-deactivated201409]