#hawkeyde

[glowyapostate]

This is a dream. It has to be. There’s no way he got so lucky in life. After resigning himself to a life of solitude, a life without meaningful connections in favour of freedom it’s impossible that such a thing could happen. It can’t be the reality that out of the whole of Thedas him and Hawke would end up here in Kirkwall and their paths would cross. It’s crazy to think that he could meet someone who managed to ingite a spark in him that he thought he snuffed forever. He’s in love, it’s no use denying it. Hopelessly, irredeemably and forever.

Then when it comes to the list of unlikely events, could he truly believe that he’s actually lying in Honey’s arm while the boat they borrowed gently rocks in the lake? Surely not, these sort of scenes can only happen in romantic novels, likely the type Varric writes. Too cheesy? He’d hardly care for anyone’s judgement. It really truly is perfect.

“ Pinch me. “  He murmurs as he burrows his cheek more into Hawke’s chest, pressing a gentle kiss there, his hair loose and messy as he sometimes shuffles into a different position.  “ Actually I know how this will go wrong. One of us moves too quickly and we end up with an  overturned boat  and soaking wet. “  Craning his neck he looks up at the love of his life and offers a brilliant smile.  “ On second thought, that still wouldn’t ruin  anything. “

@hawkeyde​  |  boat cuddles as promised!

[bardbattled-a]

❛ Well hello there little one ! ❜     /     @hawkeyde​  is  bullying  elsie

his  deceptively  friendly  greeting  is  met  with  an  indignant  huff  and  folded  arms  from  the  bard’s  perch  at  the  edge  of  a  table   (   which  is  not  meant  for  sitting  ,  she  knows  ,  but  bite  her   ) .  her  feet  are  dangling  at  least  half  a  foot  off  the  ground  and  even  with  the  boost  the  furniture  gives  her  ,  she’s  shorter  than  he  is  right  now.  it’s  absolutely  INFURIATING  and  that’s  almost  exclusively  because  he  never  allows  her  to  forget  how  tiny  she  is.  ah  well  ;  being  so  small  and  unassuming  does  have  its  benefits  in  the  end.    ❝  hello.  it’s  good  to  see  you  down  from  your  beanstalk.  ❞

[chmpn--a]

@hawkeyde​ sent:  ! :}   //   x !

The Hawkes never stayed in one town for too long. The family was packed with apostates --- who could blame them for picking up and leaving whatever place that they called home every few years? Life for Garrett started near Amaranthine, and it presently had him and his family in Lothering. The town was... well, no one would ever describe it as 'lively'. It mostly consisted of farms. A place where one had to make their own fun.

So consider him delighted when word reached him of a town-wide festival.

The music would begin when the sun started to set --- lutes, drums, various woodwinds --- and Garrett would grab his twin's hand and rush out the door with him. Surely Honey was just as excited as he was, right? Their dull little town was alive, if just for the night. Celebration was necessary! When they reach the area where celebration is the most lively, he stands still and soaks it all in. His ears shut out the shouts and hone in on the music; the drums hitting him in the chest just the right way.

The shorter of the two reaches out so that he can hold both of his twin's hands before he lets the music guide him. The movements are erratic, sure, but that was the fun of dancing. There were only two rules: move your body, and enjoy yourself. He was certainly doing both of those things, as he swung their hands about and spun around quite a few times. The smile on his face is bright, and his laughter sounds more genuine than it has in ages.

They could allow themselves an evening of fun. Where no one worried about or feared the Templars' gaze. They deserved an evening where they could just be kids (even if they were now adults). Maker, he'd give anything for an hour. Please. Just let them be.

[manidottir-aa]

@hawkeyde​ said “ i may have the right to remain silent , but i don’t have the ability. ”

The Dovahkiin hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect when meeting Hawke for the first time. She’d heard stories, listened to how Cassandra seemed to revere the man but also refused to read any of Varrics books until after meeting him. She knew how easy it was to spin a tale around a hero. To push the limits of what they actually did from her own personal experience with bards tales back home. There had been a sense of knowing upon first meeting, the same look of being thrust into events beyond your control and pushing forward to help those in need no matter the cost. Though there was also a disconnect between them in that Hawke seemed to be more exuberant than she was. The Dovahkiin was perhaps a bit more bitter at the world with how things turned out for her. “From what I’ve heard of you, I don’t think anyone would expect any different,” Signe replied with a soft chuckle and smile. 

[higheverheir-archive]

WOW i followed because Good Vibes and i was RIgHGT because you are such a GOOD ADDITION to my dash and to my friends and my writing partners on here

laraaaaa /sob

i’m so glad i followed you, you are such a great friend and wonderful writing partner. and also i love reading your threads w @glowyapostate

[yivohn]

@hawkeyde​

“ WHEN I TALK TO PEOPLE,  sometimes i can just tell when they’re going to ask me to do something for them.  something something bandits,  something something draugr.  ugh!  when does it end? ”

[altuspavus]

@hawkeyde​ asked: „ Ah, fuck it. ” || meme

          Dorian Pavus was many things, including, according to himself, a very rational, reasonable man. He was able to be both of those things, as well as being incredibly brilliant, while also being very aware of how attractive he was. And how to use such a thing to his advantage… or at least to keep himself entertained.

          Sometimes his flirting might have gotten a bit out of hand. Only a little bit, though. It was never… okay, it was certainly sometimes more than just a bit much.

          He’d been teasing, flirting with Hawke for longer than he cared to admit, but how could he help it? The man was nearby frequently enough, he was certainly attractive enough, and besides all of that, he seemed to enjoy Dorian’s company almost as much as Dorian enjoyed his. So maybe he was a little more deliberate in some movements, maybe he’d throw borderline suggestive looks over the edges of his books as if he were a character in one of those silly romance novels he absolutely could not get enough of, maybe any proximity to the other mage would somehow always lead to physical contact, however ‘innocent’.

          All of that couldn’t have prepared Dorian for any sort of… retribution from the man.

          The Tevinter mage had gathered up his day’s stack of books, sighing softly as he hefted the aged tomes to return them to their spots in the library’s shelves. It was an easy task – he had invented the categorization system himself, so Dorian’s mind wandered as his body went through the motions.

          That was, of course, until he was shocked out of his thoughts about Maker knew what by the sudden sensation of someone taller, larger than him turning him, pressing his back up against the shelves he’d just been dealing with. A soft gasp fell from his lips – lips which were quickly pressed against someone else’s. Hawke’s, some part of Dorian’s brain helpfully supplied ; his eyes fluttered shut and he dropped the last book in his hands. The ‘ thump ’ it made as it hit the ground seemed far away, unimportant, the shorter mage’s hands already wrapping around Hawke, one tangling fingers in his hair and holding him close.

          Breathing was a thing, that same rational part of Dorian’s brain supplied ; the kiss had been soft but insistent, caring, loving?, leaving him reluctant to break it. The smallest distance was forced between the two men, allowing Dorian to catch his breath, blink open eyes with dilated pupils to meet Hawke’s gaze.

          „ Well, that was a nice…. Hello, was it? ”

[asteeledheart]

STARTER CALL // ACCEPTING  @hawkeyde​

cloak &  blanket  are bundled  so  tightly  around  her  shoulders  that  they  nearly  cut  into  her  skin,  but  she  finds  the  discomfort  is  far  worth  the  price  of  the  warmth  they  provide.  the  chill  is  set  so  far  deep  within  her  bones  that  she  absently  wonders  if  she’ll  ever  manage  to  stave  it  off  entirely,  though  sidri  reminds  herself  sharply  that  such  thoughts  do  little  good,  only  cause  her  steps  to  falter. 

making  her  way  quietly  through  the  camp  and  ensuring  that  she  offers  the  most  encouraging  smile  she  can  muster  to  those  that  pause  their  conversations  to  look  at  her,  sidri  finally  reaches  a  familiar  form.  “i  believe  i  owe  you  a  great  deal  of  thanks,”  she  offers  quietly,  gently,  “i  doubt  we’d  be  speaking  now,  if  it  were  not  for  you.” 

she  coughs  into  her  shoulder,  icy  wind  stinging  her  throat,  and  continues.  “dying  alone  in  the  snow  has  never  been  my  preferred  means  of  shuffling  off  this  mortal  coil.  i  appreciate  that  you  ensured  it  was  not  so,  hawke.”