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#malcolm hawke II
wicclan · 5 months
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Thinking about how much pressure Leandra has always placed on Hawke. It's like when Malcolm died, Leandra lost the person who took the leader / protective role of their family, and since our Hawke was the eldest born before the twins and clearly would eventually be as powerful if not more than him, Leandra basically forced Malcolm's role onto Hawke.
So Hawke watches over the twins and Leandra, and since Leandra doesn't seem to know how to take on any blame or responsibility for their unpleasant circumstances of their life now that Malcolm is dead because of (probably mostly) shame. Exactly what her parents were worried about happening basically happened and she was stuck with 3 kids, an ocean and a country away from her old family and noble roots.
Leandra blames Hawke when the first twin dies, like immediately. Hawke just lost their sibling, same as Leandra lost her child, and Leandra's first instinct is to blame Hawke, when Hawke wasn't even near the twins and Leandra. Leandra was right there. Bethany/Carver dies while protecting Leandra.
Yet then she blames Hawke, saying "how could you let this happen?"
Later, If you take your surviving twin to the deep roads and they either die, or are saved by the Wardens, Leandra blames our Hawke yet again, despite the fact that whichever twin is still with you, gets pissed if you don't take them. They insist on going and if you relent and agree, Leandra blames you. As if you're the one still in "charge". Like you all aren't a family, with fully grown adults making their own choices now.
Then when Leandra dies, the game nearly tells you without saying outright that it's basically your fault because you're the one investigating the murders as your mom is being targeted as the next victim.
And if you weren't out galavanting through Kirkwall, making the money your now 2 person family's needs ( Gamlen doesn't count ) to keep living in your fancy mansion - you might have noticed the suspiciousness of your mom's new "boyfriend", or perhaps if you'd been one or two days faster in your investigation, you could've saved her!
The Hawke family is tragically poetic, and i hate that if you make a certain series of choices, everything that Leandra threw in Hawke's face and blamed them for...would seem true.
But I think that it also comes down to the fact that maybe actually Leandra just blames Malcolm for dying and leaving her all alone with the life they were supposed to have together - a life she doesn't know how to live without him.
She's grieving, and Malcolm is gone, but Hawke? Hawke who is supposedly the spitting image of Malcom, and very similar in personality and even power is right there. The only thing Leandra probably loves and hates and resents and adores all at once. Bitterness is all she really seems to know when Malcolm dies, and Hawke being the oldest, took the brunt of it all until Leandra herself died and left Hawke all alone with the guilt.
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greypetrel · 5 months
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30. "I don't know where to put my love" for Raina c:
Oooooh, this was perfect for her, thank you!! (in this I discovered that a baby raccoon is called a kit)
Tis the prompt list
A good punch.
( 4.049 words | CW: blood - mentions of split lips and broken teeth )
So tell me where to put my love Do I wait for time to do what it does? I don't know where to put my love - Florence + the Machine, "My Love"
“I did want to punch him, dad.”
She uttered between her teeth, mumbling on the words because her lips hurt like hell right now. She glared stubbornly at her feet, hand clasped in her father’s and hating every step and how the skirt of her dress kept sticking to her bloody knees. She hated skirts, and she hated the feeling of her hair, long and tangled and dirty, sticking to her cheek. But her mother won’t let her wear breeches for the festival, and won’t let her cut her hair short as she did with Garrett, and she didn’t really understand why.
But, as much as her mother had been the first to find her and drag her away from Bobby Oswald who laid under her and had a black eye and lost his front tooth, and she sharply refused to say a word to explain herself… She couldn’t lie to her father. She didn’t want to lie to him. So, when he barged in, placated the Oswalds and Leandra alike and grabbed her hand to take her away and “Have a good talk, I’m sure she didn’t mean to punch Bobby”… she waited just until they were far from the crowd and told him.
Malcolm looked down at her, raising one eyebrow.
“You want to get me angry as well, young lady?” He asked her, but there was amusement in his voice. That note of amusement that was always there and she craved, right now.
“He called Garrett a freak, and you a failure.”
She confessed, anger still burning hot in her chest and raising tears to her eyes. Malcolm didn’t say anything, but answered in tow as her hand clutched tight on his, in a silent comfort. He didn’t say anything, and just lead her around the corner and deep between the stalls that were installed in the small square in front of the Chantry. People selling food, mainly, trying to earn some extra money during the fair even if they had no cattle to sell and show, no crops to offer. They already visited the stalls, and begged Leandra far and wide for a treat. Their mother had bought her and Garrett a full slice of pumpkin pie each, and the twins a big cookie with nuts and raisins she split in two for the three years olds. And that was it. The rest of the stalls kept being a dream, even if Raina asked and pleaded for some candy floss. It was coloured and it was sweet and it looked fluffy: surely it was good, even if she never tasted it. It was also pricey, and something only the more well to do could afford. Not them. The year hadn’t gone well, and she already had her more healthy treat.
So, she didn’t raise her eyes, pretending not to be interested in the food. Pretending that all those perfumes didn’t make her mouth water and terribly curious to taste everything. She hadn’t been good, her mother made it plenty clear as she yelled at her for starting a brawl and breaking Bobby’s tooth. She didn’t listen when her father stopped and started to chat with someone. She convinced herself she wasn’t interested, and her mind went flying and concentrating on other thoughts, fingers playing nervously with the cloth of her skirt. That was it: she decided to think of all the things she could do with her skirt instead of wearing it.
And yet, when Malcolm pulled gently at her hand to catch her attention, Raina could only gasp, mouth falling open.
He stopped right in front of the candy floss stand, and both him and the vendor were looking at her, expectantly.
“So? Red, purple or yellow?” Malcolm prodded, with a smile.
“But-” She objected, looking between the two men with suspicion. “But mother said-”
“Your mother isn’t here. Or do you wish me to go and call her?” Malcolm winked. “But if you don’t want it…”
“No!” She gasped aloud, and both men chuckled at her. “Red!” She declared, and stopped a while, adding a last, less concitated “Please.”
“Ah, I knew it!” Malcolm exclaimed with a big smile, and turned to the vendor again. “What did I tell you? Did I win a free stick for being such a good father to remember my daughter’s favourite colour?”
In spite of everything, Raina giggled, ignoring how the movement sent a jolt of pain on her split lip, and how she felt wet trailing down her chin from it. As her father winked and insisted a little with a vendor that wasn’t fooled by her father’s wit, she licked the blood away, quickly. It only made the wound bleed more, and she grew irritated by it.
She didn’t mind her father slipping some coins out of his pocket, absent-mindedly greeted the vendor goodbye, and trodded along her father. The more she licked, the more blood it seeped out, and the more she scowled at it. It just wouldn’t stop.
She paid little attention, too focused on stopping the annoying trickle of blood even if it started to hurt, to mind her father quickening his step all so minutely as they passed the Chantry. “Least those nasty Mothers see our treat and come to steal it!” He told her, whispering conspiratively. She nodded along and quickened her steps as much as the legs of a girl of 8 could go, following her father without looking where he was headed.
So focused she was, that when he stopped she bumped right into his leg, so hard it hurt her lip and bruised cheek.
“Ouch!” She yelped, stepping back and pressing a hand on her cheek.
“Shit-” He grumbled, stopping abruptly as he noticed the swear. “Fuck-” He grumbled. “For Andraste’s- Don’t tell your mother. I’m sorry, kit.”
“It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”
“Mh.”
He hummed, and left her hand, nodding towards the low stone wall that sided the river. He offered to help her up to sit there, but Raina scoffed, puffing her chest up with pride. Chanting that she was not a kit, she climbed up on her merry self. Bobby’s tooth cut her knuckles something nasty, and even if the bleeding stopped, it hurt when she scraped it against the stone. She bit it down bravely, grunting for that and how sore she was, and complaining because the nasty skirt made climbing unnecessarily difficult. But she managed, rolling on her belly on top of the wall and collecting her limbs on top, so she could kneel and go sit with her legs dwindling on the other side, up the water. Malcolm was much more graceful, and as soon as he was sitting too, she scuttled closer
“Do you want to talk about it?” Malcolm asked, caressing her head.
“No.”
“Raina.”
“He was mean, dad!” She grumbled, crossing her arms on her chest and looking down at the water, legs moving quicker. “He picked on Garrett, he called him a freak and pushed him, and said you are a failure that can’t… I don’t know, he used a weird word. You can’t do something for us, and it’s not true, and so I told him you’re the best dad in the world and to leave my brother alone, and he called me a Bug-eyes and he just didn’t stop.”
A hand came around her back and closed on the opposite shoulder, keeping her still as she thrashed around on the ledge. She shoved him off: she wasn’t a baby, and she wouldn’t fall. She never fell when she climbed, not anymore. Understanding she didn’t want to be touched, now, Malcolm let her speak, listened to her as she kept on with her tale.
“He shouldn’t have said those things, you’re right.” He convened, in the end. “It still doesn’t make it right to punch him, kit. You hurt him pretty badly.”
Raina turned towards him, a deep scowl on her face, and looked in his eyes -the same blue as hers- as she told him, this time lowering her voice.
“He told he was going to call the Templars, dad. That’s when I punched him. And why I’m not sorry.”
She watched as his father’s face darkened, something harsh making his way in his expression. It was his serious face, and Raina knew he understood. He always understood, when her mother never did and only scolded her.
“Maybe he was joking.” He proposed.
“I am still not sorry.” She proudly declared, turning towards the river again. “I don’t want that you and Garrett will be brought away because Bobby is mean and stupid.”
“Punching him isn’t a solution.”
“I bit him, too.”
Malcolm stilled at the news, and as Raina side-glanced at him, she saw him with his free hand on his mouth, covering it as he tried not to laugh. She knew he was scolding her for what she did and he that he was serious, but she snorted too, covering her mouth with both hands.
“Raina, I’m serious.” He scowled at her, but his eyes kept an amused glint.
“But you told me I need to defend my little siblings!”
“I know, kit. But you’re not a raccoon. You’re a person, and people talk.”
“But I tried, dad. I tried to tell him he was mean, but he just didn’t listen. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Come here.”
He sighed, and pulled her closer to his side. More prone to be touched, right now, she let him, and turned to hug his bust, pressing her face in his side. He put the fancy waistcoat, the one he only wore for special occasions, and it was rough against her sensible skin. But it was warm and comforting enough, it smelled like the lavender pouches her mother kept in the wardrobes, and she didn’t mind that she was probably staining it. The comfort provided was more important, and the way he kept her close by her shoulder, rubbing circles with his thumb.
“Do you still love me?”
“Of course, kit, what makes you think I don’t?”
“Mom was very angry. Mom loves Garrett best.”
He sighed, heavily. It wasn’t the first time the topic came up, and it always made Raina cry. This time was no different, and she clutched on her father tighter.
“I do love you, kit. Very much. Your mother does too, I swear. Quite a lot. She gets angry because you’re always getting into trouble and she worries.”
“But she told me I had to be a good sister and protect my siblings!”
“I don’t think she meant getting into a brawl and splitting your lip open. That’s what she worries about.” Malcolm explained, gently pushing the child away from him enough so he could see her face. “Let me see.”
Her lip indeed left a stain on his waistcoat, darker than the grey wool it was made of. He paid it no mind, and didn’t let Raina either, gently pushing her face up towards his. She sniffed and blinked tears away from her eyes, putting up a brave face. She was 8, she was too old for crying, and she stood straight, offering herself for the careful examination like a big, brave girl. Stupid tears couldn’t really stop, but she did her very best. He gently pushed on her cheekbone with his thumb, and apologized when the pressure made her flinch. And rubbed her lower lip, without using any magic. Even with some pressure -and she was ready this time, she just scrunched her nose and eyes- the bleeding didn’t stop, and Malcolm huffed at it.
“We should really think of something better than punching, for you.” He grumbled, fishing his handkerchief from a pocket and dabbing her lip with it. “Defending the people you love is great and commendable kit, and I’m so proud that you jumped to it and that you stood up to your choices.”
A pause.
“Don’t tell your mother I told you so.” He casted her a look, but his eyes were still amused. “I am very, very disappointed you shut up the most annoying kid in the village, I’m absolutely appalled that you punched and bit him and kicked him, and I expect you to be very contrite and remorseful when we get back, ok?”
He winked at her, and she giggled, nodding enthusiastically. She took the handkerchief and kept on dabbing her mouth herself, heart lighter as her father huffed in satisfaction. As she did, with her feet kicking the air before her, alternatively pushing on the stone and skipping forward, she saw Malcolm ripping a piece of cotton candy, finally, and look at it, considering.
“My point is, you have all this love… We need to find a way to use it better than punching people that offend it, tho. Somewhere to put it.”
“Like a closet?”
He chuckled, and offered her the sugar. Raina looked at it, unsure, and at her father. When he nodded in encouragement, she was quick in picking the piece up and bring it to her mouth. It was sweet and crinkled under her teeth before quickly melting in the most thrilling way, and it was the most delicious thing she ever ate. Of course, it was red. Red things were the best. It made Malcolm chuckle more, as he too took a bite.
“We can try and put it in a closet, but closets get full so easily. We need to try something else.”
“Like what?”
She asked, not fully understanding his words, and how love could be stored or put somewhere rather than somewhere else. She shrugged it off, tho, not wanting him to think she was too little and didn’t understand a grown-up concept. She was the eldest and she was big, after all, even if Garrett had magic and that could maybe made up for a year less. She just stretched her arm, fingers sticky with sugar, to take another piece of the candy.
“I don’t know. Hug puppies. Take care of animals. Knit. Count to a hundred before you act. Run in the morning so you’re tired during the day and your love doesn’t burst. Let the bullies run after you until they trip and fall by themselves and you can keep clean. Insult them without them knowing.”
Raina considered, with her mouth full of sugar.
“So mom won’t get worried?”
Malcolm turned and poked her ribcage, annoyingly enough, and again until she turned to bat his hand away, laughing because it tickled. He laughed with her, and waited enough for her to stop thrashing -she did so much that he had to catch her by the shoulder lest she fell into the river. When it was done, he was there, a smile on his face and a look that was really serious in his eyes.
“So we all won’t get worried.” He told her, in his serious voice that meant what he told was important and she should listen.
She nodded and jumped forward, hugging him tight.
“I am sorry I got you worried, dad.” She told him, drowned as she was in his chest.
He caressed her hair, and right then, the world was good and she didn’t feel the urge to move somehow, to bounce her leg or play with her hands.
“It’s fine, kit.” He sighed, relaxing minutely. “Just keep in mind that if you put your love into punches, people you love won’t be happy, they will be worried. Ok?”
Raina considered. It made sense, even if the concept of love was still a little weird and abstract.
“… But what if I don’t let them punch me back?”
“Raina-”
---
Something less than twenty years later, a lifetime distant from that afternoon in Greenfell, Raina kept considering that day on the stream, eating red candy they couldn’t afford with her father.
She stepped forward, turning her daggers in her hands, bending her neck left and right quickly to warm up and get ready. Her heart beat hard and fast in her ears, in anticipation and, partly, fear. On the other hand, only an idiot wouldn’t have been afraid, in her place, to be doing what she was about to do. Maybe she was not as scared as she should have been.
It wasn’t the time to reason, tho, or to consider any better. She took her father’s words to heart, and had been mindful to put her love to good use. Ironically enough, she learnt to talk and outwit people, and she took up knitting and adopted a dog. And she stopped throwing punches so often, because she learnt to wield daggers.
She stepped forward in the throne room, bouncing from one foot to the other, turning fear into adrenaline and not thinking that she most likely chose the stupidest place to put her love. And yet, she kept her chin up, back straight, and looked the Arishok right in his eyes with a challenge.
Her love went into a city that didn’t love her, into a mother and Carver who both lied six feet under, Bethany in the Circle and Garrett that was about to be brought there too, since the Knight-Commander saw him. Her love went into a mismatched rag-tag groups of misfits, just like her. Her love went into them and into fucking things up for them and with them.
She put her love into turning her back to Merrill, screaming for her and beating her hands against the bars that closed the Alienage for the invasion. She put her love into keeping her safe, because after what she did, after taking advantage of her in such a way and leaving her as she did, that was all she could do to her. Perhaps it would have mildened her memory for the elf. Not that she would have been there to see.
She put her love, lastly and firstly and more stupidly, into a woman that didn’t want it, that told her from the start that she didn’t, but that had it anyway.
She put her love in Isabela and into a duel she couldn’t win, and she cared not for anything else. Kirkwall could go fuck itself: if it weren’t for Bela, she would have left it to the Qun and see if the Arishok could have found her a spot she could finally fit in.
She clutched her hands tighter on the hilts of the daggers, feeling the supple leather of her father’s gloves pressing on her skin. She wondered what he would have thought, and if he would still be proud of her. She guessed she was about to find out.
“Raina, please-”
She heard Garrett from behind. He was the only one, now, to call her by her name, and it was too little. She wasn’t a Hawke: Hawke had been her father, and she made a treasure of his words, she missed him like air, and she stubbornly decided that he was right, but not always.
Some people really needed a good punch.
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Was tagged by @henbased a little while back to make ocs with this picrew [link] and then I got lil carried away :3
Tagging: anyone who's interested. I saw this picrew making the rounds on my dash but I've forgotten who's already done it sskskdjsk. Let's just say I tagged you, yeah?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
In order: Shade Brosca (da) - Adrian Hawke (da) - Lin Lavellan (da) - Malcolm Hawke II (da) - Alice Hancock-White (fallout) - Kotyah (self indulgent botw oc. I don't usually post them but they turned out too cute to not include) - and ME!
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perlen-gold · 2 years
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For the WIP game: Bethany 😭🐣 but please, at your own convenience! Whenever free~
💕 @kourvo Oh god, I get a feeling you're preventively crying....😭 You have a knack for picking the dismal chapters ... or is it just me writing a lot of awful stuff? I apologize for all the sad writing I've done and choose a part of this (rather long) chapter that's NOT totally doleful! or at least ending ... well, badly!!! O_O
💕 Also, a hundred hundred 💐 thanks to you for your interest!!!!! 💕
The constant rumbling dulled into a distant, bland thunder-mist around them. The sky smoked with a heat-haze that chilled the bones, renouncing the skin clammy cold with sweat.
“Look at them.” she whispered. Bethany had spotted what the others had failed to notice. Carver, his cheeks hollowed and grayish, moved closer. Hawke did not wish to, did not want to see. Yet he stepped beside her.
Wherever the hurting eye smarted enough to linger, smoke issued from the scorched ground in crouching spiraling fumes, and heavy brumes obscured the firmament, the sun a sickly yellowish smeared, blurred, blind spot above the skeletal land. For days, the blowzy earth had rung out with screams, then rubicund rains, dry and sharp on a sizzling lip, showered it with an acrid anger savoring of copper coagulated with red. Pulping stray villages into the black ground and obliteration. Where it plagued, a dim pinkish glow took up permanent residence in the soil. Hawke thought he would never see another color in his life.
Now, however, the wastelands stretched with an odd quiet. The wind, weakly bending on the sumless columns of taupe smoke, was chewing on its own mute voice. The chirruping and twitter of birds haunting the severed limbs of burned trees was gone. No insects. No clittering crickets. No bumbling beetles. There were no flies. Not even festering on dead flesh.
Squinting, Carver wrinkled his nose in what was badly disguised disgust. Hawke looked at them, too. His mother held her head averted, refusing to observe that which enthralled her children’s gaze. Her grimy fingers were clasped over her parched mouth.
“I wonder how and why the darkspawn bother to erect them,” murmured Carver in another attempt to shrug off the revulsion sneaking slyly upon their heels.
From all pores the earth reeked of decay. Meanwhile, the putridity of the stench ate holes into cloth and clothes. Into noses and mouths. Where it moldered until even the most craved sip of water consigned the ghastly smack of ashes.
In this inferno, in this desolation a forlorn group of five people, barely recognizable as humans anymore, slogged along what was once a winding woodland path shimmering in dancing flecks of gold and green light, and what was now trampled into a meandering dirt track, every other bend blocked by hollow flames. Above their insignificant heads, where swirls of filthy clouds were surging in one direction, everything appeared to be in a fleeing movement whereas below there was no movement whatsoever. Except for them.
On both sides low hills fringed the rocky road, grayish-black boulders jutted out from under the murdered earth as if its intestines had been forced inside out by a thousand cruel hands. The small group had stumbled onward, a black-haired man in front, aliens in this country of silence and immutability. Their never-ending steps had long since dulled into a half-compromise somewhere between running and dragging. In the evening, when the sun forgot to sink and simply extinguished amidst fumes and haze, the man in the lead would throw himself wherever he stood, eyes closed, his breathing ragged, sleeping in fits to waken to the malodor of fear on his own skin - drenched in sweat and nightmares; only to find reality to be worse than any dream. In his waking state, however, Garrett Hawke kept moving in a constant, purposeful, alert fashion. That is, until his younger sister curbed, stopped at the edge of the road.
“Look at them.” whispered Bethany.
Hawke did not need to move closer to behold the iron lance. Thrust deeply into the ground and erected in a haphazard fashion wayside. Nor didhe need to come closer to consider the brown and round objects threaded like a grotesque string of pearls. Thus adorned, they stared at him with their empty, blinded sockets stretched above a bare, lipless grin. A nauseating smell drifted from their leers to pick at his nostrils, although Hawke had long since stopped to try and fathom whether it was the shrieking aroma of rot or the wafting, spoor-like foul scent of the horde. His senses begged for him to turn away but the empty holes, one pair neatly above the other, did not allow him to falter and kept their, Bethany’s, Carver’s, his stare paralyzed.
“Look at them.” whispered Bethany.
And then Hawke saw it too. His nostrils flared. His stomach, so numb, protested. His insides gave a lurch, surprising him with the force of the reaction of which his body was still, after all, capable.
And then Bethany, though she was muttering, spoke quite clearly:
“They are children’s.”
“Can’t be.” Already, Carver was turning away, quick to trod on along the bleak road which they had been following for hours and hours at a time.
“Look at the size of them.” Bethany breathed, once more quite audible.
“Can’t be.” Their brother’s reedy voice hang suspended in the stiff air. Stubbornly, Carver marched on.
“Bethany, don’t look at them.” said their mother whose voice, in some way, from deep down or the putrid air around them, had found some strength once more. 
But Bethany did look, intensely so, as if by her steady, transfixed gaze she somehow could undo the past and change the present into something … else.
“I am not sure how much more we can survive of this,“ breathed his mother, tottering in Carver’s wake. She lurched a little, then regained her footing. Mulishly she stumbled on after her youngest son, grubby face grim, eyes averted.
Hawke kept looking but he did not so anymore at the small things which were once – now fuscous skin and fleshless – children’s heads embellishing metal spears showing them the way through the incinerated land. Rather, Hawke looked at his younger sister.
She was ready for anything. Any obstacle, any heinousness to come and claim their very lives. Any hindrance they would have to fight, again and again, over and over, to cling to dear life.
Darkspawn.
Darkspawn. The mere word had used to send his mother into a frenzy. Made her eyes glaze over. Her frame sway. Her mind go blank.
Two years ago when Hawke had told about the attack in the woods, quite far from fright, the villagers laughed, frowned, turned their backs on him and shook their heads in disbelief while saying: “The Hawke boy has always liked to jest.”
“What are they thinking, that we are making this horror up?” Bethany asked hotly, tears glistening in her angry eyes. Carver, on the other hand, crossed his arms. “The last blight occurred ages ago. So why should anybody remember? People simply do not want to believe their bedtime horror stories.” he said savagely.
“I wish I could choose not to believe them.” Hawke conceted dryly. “We will not vilify father’s memory –“, father’s sacrifice, he thought, “– by not telling people the truth.”
But the questions continued. People approached their mother who had been friendly with every neighbor in every village the had ever inhabited.
With the last blight a long time ago and rooted in Antiva sending forth tendrils as far as the Free Marches, the creatures it harbored which were only spoken of in whispers by foreigners and said to be roaming the Anderfels still were the stuff of legends and stories only told by old village women in Ferelden.
Darkspawn. And their mother disintegrated upon so much as sensing the word entering their minds.  
So they had avoided saying the name of those damnable, unnatural creatures. Someday, then, when asked about their father, the word “illness” had entered their vocabulary instead. People nodded, sympathetic, consolingly. Touched their mother’s arm, shoulder, in grieve. Understanding. Warm.
So now they were here, Hawke thought as he looked away from the lance sporting human children’s skulls like a banner to be a monument to the horde that had speared out of its dark underground lair in the Korkari Wilds, to the slaying of the brave men and women flocking under the royal banner by the thousands, to the fallen and defiled Ferelden king, and to the steamrollering extermination of Lothering and what other unsuspecting villages and families in the South of oblivious Ferelden. Here they were and he tore away his eyes from everything to concentrate on his sister.
Her sable black hair, just the same shade of charcoal as his, hung lank to frame her thin, pale face. Fatigue creased her skin; streaks of dirt from the rain and sooth from the air created wrinkles around her eyes were there were none; her cheeks, formerly ripe with laughter, flattened and curved inwards under her hollowed out cheekbones.
Ever since their father’s death she had been training and cultivating the magic within her, that flaw in her for which the Templars, had there been any left, would have pursued her. That flaw that had forced their parents into hiding many years ago. That flaw that had been used by Malcolm Hawke two years ago to save his wife and children and in the same breath had destroyed him. So she had been studying and practicing relentlessly ever since. And so had he.
And it was this very flaw whereby, miraculously, rancorously, they were still alive.
When she was a little girl, Hawke remembered, she would duck under his arm and creep her way under his shirt when frightened. On such occasions he used to tickle her until, squeaking and snickering, she would giggle so hard his very spine seemed to start vibrating as she burrowed even deeper into his clothes.
But today she had fought. Burnt and frozen her way forward, out of death’s lulling arms. As she had done yesterday. And the day before yesterday. And the day before that day. So Hawke, upon looking at her intend features, as a result, felt a powerful surge of pride and equal sadness.
With a sudden jerk, then, Bethany lifted her head. She moved on, allowing her feet to set out and gain solid, steady ground to propel herself forward.
After a few steps she stopped, waiting for him to walk beside her.
And so he did.
(Excerpt from 'Ablaze')
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sourfacedlemon · 8 months
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"caging the best of us"
Malcolm can only be grateful that Leandra is no longer with them to witness the destruction of the home they built together.
Written for andy_deer (@other-cullen-ficrecs) for the 2023 Black Emporium Exchange (@black-emporium-exchange)!
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Dragon Age II Relationship: Gamlen Amell/Malcolm Hawke Characters: Malcolm Hawke, Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Carver Hawke, Gamlen Amell Additional Tags: Minor Ewald/Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Malcolm Hawke Lives, Leandra Hawke Dies, Implied/Referenced Gambling Addiction, Pre-Relationship Collections: Black Emporium 2023 Words: 2,071
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envihellbender · 4 months
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Our awful Hawke having Anders and Fenris on leashes
Characters: Malcolm Hawke II, Anders, Fenris
Verse: Tevinter/Slaver AU
Content: weight gain / fats, slave au, abuse of power
Magister Hawke laid back on his large, reinforced velvet chaise lounge. His gigantic pale gut filled the space between his spread thighs, he wore only his maroon circus tent sized dressing gown which was too small to tie over his gut causing it to be essentially useless. To his right on the floor was a young man, blond and thin wearing a shabby white shirt and brown trousers. He was on his knees and sat on his heel, a thick leather collar around his throat, with a leash clipped to a silver ring which wrapped around one of Hawke’s swollen, bloated wrist. Anders had been a slave gifted to the Hawke family, as the Magister was the eldest that gave him the priority over their property. He essentially ignored the slave for most of the morning, he was a beautiful young man and a spectacular healer, extremely useful for a half a ton man to have around. Hawke rubbed his abdomen with one hand whilst he lifted up large slices of cake with the other. After his fifth slice of his third chocolate cake he frowned, he swallowed a final mouthful. He tugged on the lead, causing Anders to be jerked forward and hit his head on the arm of the lounge. Anders stumbled to his feet, ignoring the throbbing pain on his neck and head.
“What-” there was a sharp tug on his lead. “Yes, Sir?”
“Good boy,” Hawke said, he licked his lips before he responded, swallowing crumbs and icing that stuck there and wincing as his felt the pain again. “My chest. I’m having pains again.”
“I will have a look, Sir,” Anders replied, anyone could’ve seen that he was secretly hoping for a massive heart attack but knowing he wasn’t that lucky. Anders had to climb atop of Hawke’s gut to get to his chest, he pushed his hands into the adipose, the hot sweaty fat pulsing beneath his fingers. He frowned as he felt Hawke’s pulse grow dangerously low and listened to Hawke’s wheezing breaths. “A cardiac incident, I’d have to take you to the household clinic to do some proper tests.” The words felt distasteful in his mouth, he despised that the medical centre worked from was private to only the Hawke’s and contained conditions other clinics in Thedas could only dream of.
“Later, for now just settle things down,” Hawke responded impatiently. “Isn’t there anything you can do now? Or are you not good enough?”
“I- of course. I can- I can do a quick fix and a proper treatment when you get a moment, Sir,” Anders stammered. He took a deep breath and began flexing his fingers over Hawke’s pale chest causing light blue flickers of magic to radiate from them and sink into Hawke’s warm adipose. Eventually the Magister sighed in contentment, his plump lips contorted into a smile as the pain began to ease.
“Good boy,” Hawke purred. He sucked the icing from his right hand and raised his left to stroke Anders’ hair and run a finger down the back of his neck. “So talented.”
“Sir. That is your fifth cardiac event this month. I really think-” Anders began. He was silenced by a tug of his lead, pulling him forward and forcing him to use the bed of fat to steady himself.
“Here I was, so pleased at how good you were being,” Hawke smirked, watching Anders struggle to steady himself as his small hands disappeared into Hawke’s pale fat.
“I- of course, Sir,” Anders said reluctantly, his head hung forwards in defeat. He perched on Hawke’s fat and continued his work, and continued with manipulating the elements around Hawke’s breast. Before he knew it a long, fat arm wrapped around his waist and pulled forward, keeping him trapped in place. The heat and sweat between the two of them suffocating Anders, causing him to start growing dizzy alongside the exhaustion of the magic. Working on someone so huge always took everything out of him. Finally there was a crackling thumping noise, and Anders fell forwards onto Hawke’s chest. The warmth and tingle of electricity vibrating against him, the fat of Hawke’s body swaddling him. The Magister licked his lips, with one hand he wrapped Anders’ lead around his bloated fingers, with the other he wheezed as he lifted and stroked Anders’ back, covering him in a blanket of adipose as he fell into unconsciousness.
***
“Something wrong, Carver?” Hawke asked, the words sliding from his bloated tongue far smoother than they should for a man his size. He had dressed rather smartly, in a pair of robes he would normally wear to a ball, a deep blue with silver thread. They had been tailored to his new size that morning, and Carver wondered about what a waste that was given they’d be torn to shreds by the end of the meal. Hawke however looked as arrogant and comfortable as ever, basking in his obesity.
“N-no. Not at all, brother,” Carver said with an embarrassed smirk. Hawke had insisted Carver wore his Templar uniform to dinner, he had no respect for his brother’s profession - saying they were once wild boars that the Magisters had turned to little piglets. Carver insisted they still did an important job, but he was finding it hard to believe that with every horrific thing he had to professionally ignore. However, that evening it wasn’t his brother’s mind games that bothered him. It was that stood with his head bowed next to him was Fenris - the slave with lyrium markings who Hawke had dressed in a tight fitting muzzle. It was similar to a dog’s but made of black leather, hiding most of his face. Around his neck was his thick, heavy collar, made of a rich August ram leather with a golden ring for his lead. Which was at present wrapped around Hawke’s hand - a paw that was dripping with crumbs, sauce, and adipose.
Fenris was not allowed to sit at the table, none of the slaves were. They had to stand until they were dismissed, a game which was punishing for the frailer, weaker, slaves. Fenris the bodyguard however did not even falter, he even managed to not stare at the food that was being served longingly. Slaves were given their own designated food, scraps compared to the meals they cooked for their Masters’. Carver didn’t approve of how Hawke treated the slaves, but he had a soft spot in particular for Fenris. It seemed needlessly unfair to have him guard their dinner instead of letting him rest, especially since Hawke had insisted they eat in the late evening close to the end of the day.
When the whole meal was placed in front of them, Carver began to eat, eyes flickering to Hawke who was staring at him intently. He always took some food secretly to share with Anders and Fenris, but he had to make sure he wouldn’t be caught. Suddenly, Hawke clapped his hands, causing Carver to wince and look up. He was getting so large that it sounded more like wet meat hitting each other than an actual slap. When Carver looked up he saw Hawke had cut off a piece of the steak and held it up into Fenris’s direction. Carver scowled, what was his plan? Was he mocking him?
“Give this a try, little wolf,” Hawke hummed, pulling Fenris’s lead closer. Hawke opened Fenris’s muzzle and shoved the fork through. He ate it obediently, and Carver could see his thick black eyebrows furrowing in confusion behind his muzzle. “How is it? Good?”
“Yes- yes Sir,” he confirmed.
“Hm. Not poisoned my food then, little brother?” Hawke asked, causing Carver’s blood to turn to ice. He froze in place and stared at him, his face doing little to betray his true feelings. Betrayal? Disgust? Anger?
“Of course not. Eat your god damn food and stop playing games,” Carver snapped. He turned to his food, his cheeks heating to a bright red, and the bottle of white powder burning a hole in his pocket.
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justyeghost · 1 year
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Finishing up DA II: Legacy on YouTube Right Now Done with the stream. Act Two of DA II begins next week.
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storybookhawke · 2 years
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Malcolm was a brutal dad
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wipbigbang · 5 months
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WIPBB 2023 - Fic & Art Master List (# - L)
Below is the master list of all the bragging rights/posts that were posted to Tumblr and Dreamwidth, organized alphabetically by fandom from numbers to L. Please go show these people some love for all the hard work they did!
9-1-1
Beyond Appearances: Art (Evan Buckley/Sophia Diaz)
When You Say My Name: Fic | Art Post 1 | Art Post 2 (Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz)
A Song Of Ice and Fire/Game Of Thrones
Watch the world burn; i set it all alight for you: Fic/Art (Jon Snow/Daenerys Targarean)
Angel: the Series/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Deep Dark Sky: Fic (Connor/Dawn Summers)
Bungou Stray Dogs
half-time soulmate, full-time problem (so hold me like a grudge): Fic | Art (Nakahara Chuuya/Dazai Osamu)
Chalion Saga/World of the Five Gods
Penric's Last Ride: Fic | Art (Penric, Desdemona, the Bastard)
Criminal Minds
Half Broke Horses: Fic (Art On AO3) (Alex Blake/Emily Prentiss)
DC Comics
Batman
Fatherhood: Fic | Art (Implied Bruce Wayne/Jim Gordon)
right place, wrong time: Fic | Art (Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne)
Batman/Green Arrow
Grains of the Golden Sand: Fic (Dick Grayson/Roy Harper)
DC Comics (Batman)/Prodigal Son
9 Crimes: Fic | Art (Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Malcolm Bright, Gil Arroyo, Jessica Whitly, Jim Gordon, Harvey Bullock, Alfred Pennyworth, The Joker, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson)
Dead Poets Society
Spotlight: Fic (Chris Noel/Ginny Danburry)
Disney
Disney's Descendants
And I won’t lie down, roll over, and die: Fic (Gil/Harry Hook/Uma)
Nothing in this world by myself to protect me: Fic (Jay/Carlos De Vil, Evie/Mal, Evie/Jay, Evie/Carlos de Vil, Evie/Jay/Mal/Carlos de Vil, Ben/Mal, Ben/Jay, Jay/Mal, Mal/Carlos de Vil, Ben/Evie)
Disney Fairies
Death at the Hollow: Fic/Art (Fawn/Nyx)
Encanto
A Single Thread of The Tapestry: Fic | Art (Camilo & Mirabel, Camilo & Mirabel & Mariano, Mirabel & Camilo & Madrigal family)
How do you know what your life is worth: Fic | Art (Camilo & Mirabel, Mirabel & Pepa, Isabela & Pepa, Isabela & Luisa, Luisa & Abuela & Bruno, Bruno & Camilo, Félix & Julieta, Agustín & Dolores, Félix/Pepa, Agustín/Julieta)
Doctor Who/The Picture of Dorian Gray/Torchwood
Passing Through: Art (Dorian Gray/Jack Harkness)
Dracula/Jane Eyre/Sherlock Holmes (ACD Canon)
A Field of Thorns: Fic (Sherlock Holmes/Dracula)
Dragon Age II
Kindling: Fic | Art (Fem!Hawke/Fenris)
Set Yourself On Fire: Fic | Art (Marian & Garrett, Marian & Carver, Marian & Varric, Referenced Fenris/F!Hawke and Anders/M!Hawke)
ER (NBC)
Touch and Go: Fic | Art (Abby Lockhart/Kerry Weaver)
Final Fantasy IV/Final Fantasy VI/Final Fantasy IX/Final Fantasy X
Magical Girl Rydia - Summon the Four Warriors of Light!: Fic On Dreamwidth | Fic On Tumblr (Rydia/Yuna)
Generation Kill
Bradley the Damned: Fic/Art (Brad Colbert/Nate Fick, Walt Hasser/Ray Person)
Good Omens (TV)
The Rain We Thought Would Last Forever and Ever (Remix): Fic (Art On AO3) (Aziraphale/Crowley)
Harry Potter
Black House Will Rock: Art (Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Lestrange)
Repertum: Fic/Art (Harry Potter/Severus Snape)
Harry Potter/CSI/Hocus Pocus
And now you're mine: Fic (Harry Potter/Greg Sanders)
Harry Potter/DC Comics (Batman)
Reflection: Fic/Art (Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Rubeus Hagrid, Original Characters)
It (2017/2019)
faraway look: Fic (Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon)
Jak And Daxter
alien lands (overflowing with dust): Fic/Art (Jak/Daxter, Jak/Sig, past Damas/Sig)
The Red Prison: Fic/Art (Errol/Torn, Jak/Ashelin)
Jane Austen/Temeraire (Naomi Novik)
To the Rigor of Service: Fic/Art (Elizabeth Bennet & Charlotte Lucas, pre-Anne Elliot/Frederick Wentworth)
Jujutsu Kaisen
Phantom Origins: Fic | Art (Itadori Yuuji/Yoshino Junpei, Yoshino Junpei & Yoshino Nagi, Fushiguro Megumi & Kugisaki Nobara, Fushiguro Megumi & Kugisaki Nobara & Yoshino Junpei, Iguchi Takeshi & Itadori Yuuji & Sasaki Setsuko)
Knives Out
No Charm Equal: Fic (Benoit Blanc/Marta Cabrera)
Kuroko no Basuke
Three Little Words: Fic (Kasamatsu Yukio/Kise Ryouta)
Last Binding Series (Freya Marske)
The New Blyth Traditions: Fic (Robin Blyth & Maud Blyth, Robin Blyth/Edwin Courcey, Maud Blyth/Violet Debenham)
League of Legends: Arcane
bring me java, bring me joy: Fic | Art (Caitlyn Kiramman/Vi)
Lord of the Rings (Book)
both the sweet and the bitter: Fic On Dreamwidth | Fic On Tumblr (Arwen Undómiel, Elrond Peredhel, Bilbo Baggins, Original Characters)
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eridanisanenby · 8 months
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Atlantis Attacks
Ant Ant
Arkham Asylum
Agent A (Alfred)
Amity Arkham
Amadeus Arkham
All-American comics
Baxter Building
Bombastic-Bag man
robert Bruce Banner
james Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes
Black Blot/Blackagar Boltagon
elizabeth “Betsy” Braddock
Brian Braddock
william “Billy” Braddock
Billy Batson
Beast Boy
Blue Beetle
Boston Brand
BlueBird
Bouncing Boy
Carl “Crusher” Creel
Captain Carter
nathan Christopher Charles summers/Cable
Curtis "Curt" Connors
Caped Crusader
oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot
Captain Cold
Captain Carrot
Catherine Cobert
Cressida Clarke
Crocky the Crodile
Doctor Darrk
Doctor Destiny
Dorthy Duncan
Ding-Dong Daddy
yankee Doodle Dandy
Dinah Drake
Darla Dudley
Damien Darhk
(new) Fantastic Four
Four Freedoms plaza
Fin Fang Foom
Freedom Fighters
Freddy Freeman
Felix Faust
Guardian of the Galaxy
Green Goblin
Guy Gardener
Gorilla Grodd
Gotham Gazette
Gotham Globe
Gotham General
Green Guardsman
Golden Glider
Glorious Gordon Godfrey
Happy Hogan
Hank Hensley
Hank Hall (Hawk)
Henry “Hank” Henshaw
Hank Hall
Hippolyta "lyta" Hall
Hank Haywood
Jessica Jones
John Jonah Jameson
Katherine “Kate” Kane
Kristen Kringle
Kip Kettering
Lacie Lorraine
Loki Laufeyson
Lunella Lafayette
Lonnie Lincoln
Lois Lane
Lex Luther
Lighting Lad
Linda Lee
Luma Lynai
Lana Lang
Laura Lang
Louise Lincoln
dinah Laurel Lance
Linda Lang
Lena Luther
MasterMind
May Melinda
Miles Morales (og 42)
Meows Morales
Michael Morbius
Multiverse of Madness
MilkMan Man
Mateo Maximoff
Marya Maximoff
Mole Man
Mister Mxyptlk “Mxy”
M’gann M’orzz/Megan Morse/Miss Martian
Mia “Maps” Mizoguchi
Mary Marvel
Miguel Montez
Music Master
Mr. Miracle
Mirror Master
Mad Mod
Malcolm Merlyn
Maria Mercedes Mooney
Matches Malone
Monsieur Mallah
Nia Nal
Olivia Octavius (doctor Octopus/doc Ock)
Pepper Potts
Peter Parker(s)
Pabitr Prabhakav
Peni Parker
Peter Porker
Pedro Peña
Penny Plunderer
Quasar’s Quantum bands
Quentin Quale
Reed Richards
Rocket Raccoon
Richard Rider
Roberto “Robbie” Reyes (og 69)
Rachel Roth (Raven)
Ronald Raymond
SlapStick
Sun Spider
Scarlet Spider
Serpent Society
Super Skrull
Silver Sable/Silvija Sablinova
Sinister Syndicate
Sinister Six
Steven Strange (dr Strange)
Sybil Silverlock
Susan “Sue” Storm
Spider-Society
Samuel Sterns
Sebastian Shaw
Suicide Squad
Star Sapphire
Silver St. Cloud
Secret Six
Pter Ptarker (TT)
Taneleer Tivan
Tyros The Terrible (Terrax)
Teen Titans
Titans Tomorrow
Tom Turbine
Traci Thirteen
Unus the Untouchable
Vicki Vale
Valerie Vale
Web Warriors
Wade Winston Wilson
Wallace “Wally” West
Wallace “ace” West II
Wonder Woman
Warlock the Wizard
Wizards & Warlocks
Zatanna Zatara
Zachary Zatara
Zilius Zox
Duela Dent Napier Nigma
Cooper Coen/Web Weaver
Matthew Michael “Matt” Murdock/DareDevil
Kamala Khan/Ms. Marvel
Otto Octavius (doctor Octopus/doc Ock)/Superior Spider-man
Victor Von doom/Doctor Doom
Warren Worthington III/ArchAngel
Cassandra “Cass” Cain/Black Bat
J’onn J’onnz/John Jones/Hank Henshaw/Martian Manhunter
Kei Kawade/Kaiju Kid(/Kid Kaiju)
Mitchell Mayo/Condiment King
Max Mercury/Windrunner Whip WhirlWind
Red Robin/Joker Junior
Cletus Cortland Kassidy (Carnage)
Clark Kent
Conner “Kon” Kent
Chemical King
Carrie Kelley
Killer Croc
Karen Crane
Seaboard City
Total alliteration: 207
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wylldebee · 1 month
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Do you have a canon run through for Dragon Age? If you do, what is it?
(oh wow my first ever ask :D!) Yes! Yes I do! My canon world state mostly has the "Good" choices (as much as there can be in Dragon Age). Dragon Age: Origins (Warden: Valerie 'Val' Tabris, rogue; assassin+duelist): —Circle saved; Mages supported; Irving alive —Brokered peace between elves and werewolves —Branka killed; Anvil destroyed; Bhelen rules —Connor alive (not possessed); Isolde alive; urn not poisoned —Helped Alistair find Goldana (hardened him); killed Marjolaine (didn't harden Leliana); killed Master Ignacio —Hardened!Alistair and Anora rule together; Loghain was executed —Killed the Architect; both Keep and Amaranthine protected; Oghren and Felsi reunited —Didn't go with Morrigan —Sophia killed; Avernus continues his research ethically; drank the Power of Blood —Companions alive, well, and quests done; romanced Leliana
Dragon Age II (Champion: Arin 'Rin' Hawke, mage; Force Mage) —Joined the mercenaries —Returned Saemus to the Viscount; convinced Templars to leave; sent Feynriel to the Dalish; defended Ketojan from the Qunari; Aveline made guard captain; Carver is a Templar —Aveline and Donnic married; didn't side with Petrice; Bartrand not killed; Varric not allowed to keep Red Lyrium Shard; Isabela returns with the tome; didn't give Isabela to the Arishok; killed the Arishok —Let Zevran go; rescued Nathaniel; reunited Charade and Gamlin; handed conspirators to Orsino; allowed Emile to go free; sided with the mages —Sided with Larius; found Malcolm's will —All companions recruited and friend-manced; Merrill didn't destroy the Eluvian; Merrill's clan is alive; friends with Tabris; didn't kiss Tabris (but did flirt a little :3); didn't approve Ander's actions; killed Anders; romanced Isabela is all three acts. (Before anyone says anything; I have nothing against Anders and I have more playthroughs with him alive than I do dead. I'm all for Ander blowing up the Chantry. Is just Hawke mercy killing Anders because he would've been the number one target for Templars, and to also free Anders from Justice. Role-playing.) Dragon Age: Inquisition (Inquisitor Rhosyn 'Rho' Lavellan rogue; Tempest) —Captured the various keeps; Fairbanks not revealed as a noble; closed the lake's rifts; helped refugees; investigated the dwarven ruins; gained the cultists' support; Imshael killed; rescued the troops from the Avvar inner sanctum reached (<- f*ck this quest in particular) —Inquisition forces were regularly deployed; Sutherland's company was successful; contacted Charade; Jecin and Celeste married for love —Mages allied; declared the Inquisition for order; denied being chosen by Andraste; Samson my rival; saved everyone in Haven (<- frigging mission making me reload a thousand times to save everybody) —Celene alive; Celene rules and reconciled with Briala; Florianne alive —Grey Wardens rebuilt; Stroud left behind in the fade —Respected the temple's traditions; allied with guardians; Rhosyn drank from the well —Leliana made Divine —Met Ameridian; earned legend-mark from Avvar; dragon slain; shared the truth about Ameridian —Saved mines; stopped earthquakes —Bull remained loyal; preserved the Inquisition as a peacekeeping force; attempt to redeem Solas —Everybody recruited and friends with everybody; Blackwall made into a Grey Warden; Solas freed his friend; Cassandra rebuilt the Seekers; Dorian reconciled with his father; saved the Charger and Bull is Tal-Vashoth; Cole more human; gave Vivienne the heart; forced Hammon to work for the Inquisition; Varric tracked down the red lyrium source; romanced Cassandra (<- unfortunately as a male! Inquisitor but it's still part my canon world state) And that's that!
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homomenhommes · 6 months
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THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY
based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more …
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976 – Cordoba, Spain: Hisham II becomes Caliph at age 11. He is the openly homosexual son of the openly homosexual Al-Hakam II. Both kept male harems.
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1895 – Clifford Kitchin (d.1967) was a British novelist of the early twentieth century. He was best known for his four mystery novels featuring the sleuth Malcolm Warren (Death of My Aunt, Crime at Christmas, Death of His Uncle, and The Cornish Fox), but his other novels were also highly regarded, especially by other writers. His best known novels are The Auction Sale, Streamers Waving, and Mr. Balcony. He was one of Francis King's two mentors, the other being J. R. Ackerley. His other works include Book of Life and Jumping Joan.
Kitchin attended Exeter College Oxford and became a barrister. He was a gifted chess player, bridge player, and pianist. Kitchin led a varied and colourful life. He was born into wealth and increased his wealth through investment in the stock market. He used his wealth to take part in many different fields, including the breeding and racing of greyhounds, in which he was briefly an important figure.
He was actively homosexual and was living with his lover Clive Preen until Preen's death in 1944.
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1920 – Born: Brooding and intense, Montgomery Clift (d.1966) was one of a group of young actors in the 1950s who personified the emotionally repressed loss of innocence of the post-World War II generation. A dedicated actor who exhausted himself both emotionally and physically with the depth of his characterizations, Clift was also an isolated and tortured, closeted gay man who used drugs and alcohol to escape his pain.
Although he was both friend and inspiration to the likes of Marlon Brando and James Dean, Clift felt his own acting achievements were undervalued, and he died as bitter and broken as the characters he played in many of his films.
Clift was born into privilege in Omaha, Nebraska on October 17, 1920, the son of a wealthy stockbroker. His father spent most of his time working in New York, leaving Clift, his twin sister Roberta, and his older brother Brooks in the care of their high-strung mother. An upper-class childhood filled with lengthy trips to Europe and the Bahamas ended suddenly with the stock market crash of 1929, and the family moved to a small house in Sarasota, Florida. There Clift discovered the theater in a local teen acting club.
Clift's mother encouraged her son's acting ambitions, and when the family moved back to New York in 1935, he auditioned and was cast in a Broadway production, Fly Away Home. His 1938 performance in the lead in Dame Nature established Clift's acting career. He was seventeen years old.
Clift's success on Broadway continued, and he soon found himself courted by Hollywood film executives. He rejected a number of scripts before finally making a memorable film debut in Howard Hawks' 1948 film Red River opposite John Wayne. Repotedly, both Wayne and Walter Brennan were offended by Clift's homosexuality, and stayed away from him while filming Red River. For his part, Clift was offended by the pro-USA political beliefs of those two older actors.
He followed that with a critical success in Fred Zinneman's The Search (1948), which earned him the first of four academy award nominations. Clift continued to make successful films and developed friendships in Hollywood, the closest of which was with actress Elizabeth Taylor. Taylor and Clift were both passionate and vulnerable people who felt a bond immediately. They worked together on several films, beginning with George Stevens' A Place in the Sun in 1951, and remained friends until the end of his life.
Clift had always had relationships with men, but he dated Taylor and other women to conceal his homosexuality. In the early 1950s, he turned down a role in Alfred Hitchcock's Rope, based on the infamous Leopold and Loeb gay murder case, probably because it might have led to speculation about Clift's own life.
Though at the beginning of his career, he drank only moderately and conducted his private life discreetly, by the mid 1950s he was using alcohol and drugs excessively and spending wild nights cruising. In 1954, Clift rented a house in the gay resort of Ogunquit, Maine, and spent the summer picking up men on the beach for S&M parties. The studios did their best to keep Clift's exploits out of the press, but rumors about his lifestyle abounded.
On May 12, 1956, after leaving a party at Taylor's, Clift drove his car into a telephone pole. The crash caused scarring and partial paralysis of his face, which would affect his appearance for the rest of his life. Although he continued to act, and gave some of his most memorable performances after the accident (in, for example, Stanley Kramer's Judgment at Nuremberg and John Huston's The Misfits in 1961), both his expressive acting and his personal life were never the same. His post-accident career has been referred to as the 'longest suicide in Hollywood' because of his continued substance abuse.
In his final years, Clift plunged more deeply into drug and alcohol abuse and wild sexual behavior. He began to be considered unreliable by studio bosses. Sadly, by the time his companion Lorenzo James found him dead of a heart attack at their home, on July 23, 1966, he was virtually unemployable.
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1933 – On this date the Singing Nun was born (d.1985). Sœur Sourire a.k.a. Sister Smile was a Belgian nun, who had a world hit in and around 1963 with 'Dominique'. Her real name was Jeanine Decker and her name in the convent was Sister Luc-Gabrielle. She was born in Waver. In 1966 a film was released based on her life, under the title of 'The Singing Nun', with Debbie Reynolds in the title role.
Deckers became increasingly critical of Catholic doctrines and eventually became a public advocate for contraception. She also agreed with John Lennon's statements about Jesus in 1966. In 1967, she recorded a song entitled "Glory Be to God for the Golden Pill" — a paean to artificial birth control — under the name Luc Dominique. It was a commercial failure.
Her musical career over, Deckers opened a school for autistic children in Belgium. In the late 1970s, the Belgian government claimed she owed approximately $63,000 USD in back taxes. Deckers countered that the royalties from her recording were given to the convent and therefore she was not liable for payment of any personal income taxes. Lacking any receipts to prove her donations to the convent and her religious order, Deckers ran into heavy financial problems. In 1982, she tried, once again as Sœur Sourire, to score a hit with a disco synthesizer version of "Dominique", but this last attempt to resume her singing career failed.
Citing their financial difficulties in a note, she and her companion of ten years, Annie Pécher, both committed suicide by an overdose of barbiturates and alcohol in March 1985. She was 51.
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London Mardi Gras, the precurser to Pride, which Barry Jackson helped to organize in 1999
1946 – Barry Jackson, British gay activist and corporate and public affairs manager was born on this date (d.1999).
Born in south London, Barry read mathematics at the University of Sussex from 1966-69. There he was active in the student union, quickly learning to defuse arguments, and in student journalism.
In 1975, he went to work for North West Arts in Manchester, and then became development director of the Arts Council of Great Britain. He joined the University of Westminster in this role in 1990, before moving to the committee of vice-chancellors and principals as director of corporate affairs. There he ran campaigns to increase public funding for university research, to stop planned cuts in other areas of funding and to enhance recognition of the contribution universities make to regional and international competitiveness.
In 1994 he joined the board of the Actors Touring Company, and toured Greece when it presented simultaneous productions of Euripides's Ion in English and Greek.
While in Manchester, Barry became involved with the Campaign for Homosexual Equality, the first of a number of lesbian and gay groups which would benefit from his campaigning, communications and fundraising skills. His understanding and good humour in the often difficult circumstances created by prejudice and intolerance were later evident in his work at London Lesbian and Gay Switchboard. Between 1980-98, Barry spoke to many thousands of lesbians and gay men, their families and friends who had phoned, often in fear and confusion.
He also helped organise the first national conference on Aids in 1983, encouraged and supported the development of the Terrence Higgins Trust, and went on to be involved in a number of Aids organisations.Most of this he did with his closest friend, Mike Rhodes, who died suddenly in 1991. Barry helped set up the Mike Rhodes Trust, which makes an annual award to an individual who has "contributed most to promoting understanding of lesbian and gay life".
Shortly before his death from leukaemia aged 53, he was centrally involved in the staging of 1999's London Mardi Gras. The lesbian and gay festival brought together many strands in his life: activism with business acumen, politics with fun and style, an arts programme with a cutting edge and London with Sydney, two cities he loved.
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1535 – Rome: Pope Paul III wrote a letter to his son Duke Pier Luigi Farnese on this day and scolded him for having male lovers with him on an official mission to the court of the Emperor. Born in Rome, Pier Luigi was the illegitimate son of Cardinal Alessandro Farnese who later became Pope Paul III.
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1995 – For the first time in its history, the United Nations considers lesbian and gay rights abuses at its International Tribunal on Human Rights Violations Against Sexual Minorities. Following testimony from a number of women and men who have suffered abuse ranging from torture to forced institutionalization, the tribunal recommends that the UN document sexual orientation and gender identity issues around the world and integrate them into the organization’s human rights agenda.
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2003 – On this date Hijra eunuchs in the Indian state of Madhya Pradesh float the political party Jiti Jitayi. In the culture of the Indian subcontinent a hijra (also known by a number of different names and romanized spellings) is usually considered a member of "the third sex" — neither man nor woman. Most are physically male or intersex, but some are female. Hijras usually refer to themselves as female at the language level, and usually dress as women.
Census data does not exist, but estimates range from 50,000 to 5,000,000 in India alone. Although they are usually referred to in English as "eunuchs", relatively few have any genital modifications. A third gender has existed in the subcontinent from the earliest records, and was clearly acknowledged in Vedic culture, throughout the history of Hinduism, as well as in the royal courts of Islamic rulers.
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greypetrel · 10 months
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✨Meet the Blorbos✨
Or: a small guide to my characters and AUs in Dragon Age universe. They’re all in continuity, I played more than once and suffer from a sever case of indecision, so here you go.
A small scheme, and more details under the cut! Yes they're colour coded of course.
Dragon Age Origins: Alyra Mahariel. Double-wielding Rogue, Duelist + Bard, True Neutral, ❤️ Alistair / Morrigan
Dragon Age II: Raina Hawke. Double-wielding Rogue, Shadow, Chaotic Good, ❤️Merrill+Isabela > The Trash Raccoon Garrett Hawke. Mage, Spirit Healer + Blood mage, Chaotic Good, ❤️ Fenris
Dragon Age Inquisition: Aisling Lavellan. Mage, Lightning + Knight Enchanter, Neutral Good, ❤️Cullen Radha Lavellan. Double-wielding Rogue, Tempest, True Neutral, ❤️ Solas
THE AUs:
DadWolf AU: Modern time AU, follows da2 + Inquisition. Solas woke up 30 years before, Varric is older and Malcolm's best friend. They co-parent Aisling and Dorian, shenanigans happen.
Dark Lady AU: Someone on Instagram asked me if Aisling was Sauron. It's a crossover between Dragon Age and LOTR/The Silmarillion where Aisling is Sauron. "It was all a big misunderstanding". Read it here!
Whale AU: Fully historical, non fantasy AU. Aisling is a zoologist with an hyperfixation for sperm whales, she saves Cullen, a harpooner after a shipwreck caused by a whale.
Cuties Coexisting: A parallel world, Fenris met the Lavellan and hid with them until Act 2 in Dragon Age. Fenris/Lavellan, very very angsty, I'm not planning on writing more of it, but it's open for prompts if you like it. Read it here! (named by @/daggerbean )
Alyra Mahariel
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Double-wielding Rogue, Duelist + Bard, the shade of True Neutral that’s tired of everyone’s shit and is not remotely paid enough to deal with your problems, but will do it anyway because somebody might as well.
No-shit-taken person, she appears to be cold and unsympathetic, dued to the mother of all resting bitch face and the nice tendency to not blink when you’re saying something particularly stupid and she wants to underline that she’s judging you. Will go down in a fight when she’s dead, and it will take a while to kill her. Under the surface she’s very caring: her Vallaslin is for Sylaise, the goddess of the Hearth, and she will do many things to protect her loved ones. She’s reliable, once you’re on her good side or she feels responsible in keeping you alive, she will. Would manage to sell ice cubes to penguins.
Pansexual and poly, romanced both Morrigan and Alistair. Currently Warden-Commander of Fereldan, in a tense relationship with Weisshaupt, Arlessa of Amaranthine and Chancellor (and mistress) of King Alistair. Did the ritual, Kieran is 100% her son if you ask her. Don’t speak good of the Guerrins to her.
Raina Hawke
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Double-wielding Rogue, Shadow, Chaotic DumbassGood and official Purple trash raccoon.
Would reply with a witty remark even in a life or death situation, is the queen of awful coping mechanisms. Very street-wise, never had some formal training, learnt everything on the go becoming something very difficult to predict in a fight. Human disaster, disappointed her mother in every single one of her life choices, on purpose after Malcolm died and the mediator between them was no more. She took care of the farm and her siblings, will go the extra mile and some to keep everyone safe and fed and warm, but refused to abide to any other request. Is the chilliest person in the world, will not question and be friendly -if you like a witty, sarcastic friend that is- until you step outside her boundaries. Won’t shut up if the ideals she believes in are crossed, and can’t stand people in power who do nothing. She knits like her life depend on it, all her friends have hand-knitted garments as gifts. Will only refer to Varric as “Her beloved husband”, particularly if there’s Bianca around.
Lesbian, in a happy poly relationship (after fucking up gloriously with both) with Merrill and Isabela. Sided with the Mages, exiled Anders at the end. Carver with the Wardens, Bethany in the Circle, if you ask her it’s all her fault.
Garrett Hawke
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Mage, Blood mage + Spirit healer, Chaotic Good and the one who just knew he would have better stayed in his bed today. He knew it.
One year younger than Raina, they grew up together, joined at the hip. He just wants to live a peaceful life, have his own farm, grow pumpkins and cabbages and go with the flow. As it is, will let Raina lead towards the next crazy adventure and tone her down a little, or catch her when she’s choosing something overtly risky. It was him who convinced Raina to take Carver but leave Bethany at home for the Deep Roads and he never really forgave himself for it. Particularly because Raina took the blame for it. Got the message from Malcolm that if he wanted to make it as an Apostate, the number one rule was to lay low, be pleasant. Will not stay at home if his family or friends are in danger, tho. Learnt Spirit Healing from Anders, but he’s not extremely talented for it: knows the basics, can stitch up cuts, his talent with Spirits are bones. Learnt Blood magic spending more and more time with Merrill when she moved in with Raina, and that’s his talent. He usually mixes the two things: if he’s a mediocre healer with Spirits, he is pretty talented drawing energy from blood, manipulating it and the body to heal. Keen for the same reason on manipulating and using Water in his magic. Everything that flows. Has a severe case of Dad humour.
Bisexual, romanced Fenris. Same choices as Raina, he would have forced Anders to fix his mess up, but considering he used him and his sister and de facto involved them without telling them… Didn’t put up a fight.
Aisling Lavellan
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Mage, Lightning + Knight Enchanter. So much of a Neutral Good she is your mom friend and therapist and she's not cottagecore, she's directly grandma-core. Will ask if you ate. And serve you something more anyway.
She was adopted by the Lavellans at 6 and put her whole effort into becoming the best Second ever. And she managed: she passed as First as soon as she got her Vallaslin. The former First, Pavyn, was more socially savvy than her, but didn’t put her effort. Could be a Spirit Healer, but when she was 20 she had to restore to Blood Magic to save her friend and got scared that she never touched any Healing spell again. Instead, she’s a decent herbalist, convinced that everything can be solved with enough Elfroot treated in the necessary way. Horse Girl extraordinaire and a very practical person who likes to work more than to talk. Nice and welcoming, will give a second chance to almost everyone (the big exception is Erimond). Hates being called the Herald of Andraste. Magically very savvy, she’s not the most powerful spellcaster around, but she’s extremely precise: would catch a running rabbit with a lightning. Loves to experiment on magic with Dorian, they formed a great team working together: he theorizes, she puts in practice, they’ll invent teleportation given enough time.
Bisexual, romanced Cullen (tried to romance Cassandra, you can mock her for having a Templar kink). The Inquisition is for all, strongly refused being the Herald of Andrasted. Mages as full-fledged allies, Wardens rehabilitated, Celene reconciled with Briala and on the throne (with some blackmail just in case, but she couldn’t bring herself to like Gaspard or trust he won’t turn on Briala at the first chance). Didn’t drink from the Well, disbanded the Inquisition and became a Red Jenny. Chose to redeem Solas if that was possible.
Radha Lavellan.
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Rogue, Tempest. True Neutral and a person who’ll read you in five minutes, the Keeper told her her Vallaslin was either Dirthamen or none.
Elder adopted sister of Aisling, she and Pavyn (eldest) are the sons of the Keeper. She stood around mages for enough to know some theory and use it for her specialization. A woman of few words, won’t speak if she has nothing important to say, and passes as haughty and judgemental even if she’s not. She just likes to observe people and gather every single scrap of knowledge she can get her hands upon. She should have been the one to travel to the Conclave and spy, but Aisling convinced the Keeper and the Clan to go in her place. Feeling guilty, she jumped on the first ship as soon as Aisling wrote and told them she had to stay with the Inquisition, to help her. Sees her as her responsibility, and struggled to accept the fact that she was not. Since it was clear when she arrived at Skyhold that Aisling couldn’t get back to the clan any time soon, she joined in, and started to work with Leliana, as a spy. And oh she’s good at it. Hurt her hand badly in a fight, her right hand can’t grab fully and isn’t strong at all. Learnt to work around it, is pretty much ambidextrous in activities that doesn’t require a strong grip.
Romanced Solas. (ouch) Didn’t agree with Aisling on the Wardens, Celene or the Well of Sorrows, but she was the one educated to lead, and she trusts her judgement.
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pollicinor · 1 year
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Psyco (1960) Alfred Hitchcock Il mago di Oz (1939) Victor Fleming Il padrino (1972) Francis Ford Coppola Quarto potere (1941) Orson Welles Pulp Fiction (1994) Quentin Tarantino I sette samurai (1954) Akira Kurosawa 2001: Odissea nello spazio (1968) Stanley Kubrick La vita è meravigliosa (1946) Frank Capra Eva contro Eva (1951) Joseph L. Mankiewicz Salvate il soldato Ryan (1998) Steven Spielberg Cantando sotto la pioggia (1952) Stanley Donen e Gene Kelly Quei bravi ragazzi (1990) Martin Scorsese La regola del gioco (1939) Jean Renoir Fa' la cosa giusta (1989) Spike Lee Aurora (1927) Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau Casablanca (1942) Michael Curtiz Nashville (1975) Robert Altman Persona (1966) Ingmar Bergman Il padrino - Parte II (1974) Francis Ford Coppola Velluto Blu (1986) David Lynch Via col vento (1939) Victor Fleming Chinatown (1974) Roman Polanski L'appartamento (1960) Billy Wilder Tokyo Story (1953) Yasujirō Ozu Susanna! (1938) Howard Hawks I 400 colpi (1959) François Truffaut Gangster Story (1967) Arthur Penn Luci della città (1931) Charlie Chaplin La fiamma del peccato (1944) Billy Wilder L'impero colpisce ancora (1980) Irvin Kershner Quinto potere (1976) Sidney Lumet La donna che visse due volte (1958) Alfred Hitchcock 8 1/2 (1963) Federico Fellini Ombre rosse (1939) John Ford Il silenzio degli innocenti (1991) Jonathan Demme Fronte del porto (1954) Elia Kazan Io e Annie (1977) Woody Allen Lawrence d'Arabia (1962) David Lean A qualcuno piace caldo (1959) Billy Wilder Fargo (1996) Joel e Ethan Coen Il mucchio selvaggio (1969) Sam Peckinpah Moonlight (2016) Barry Jenkins Shoah (1985) Claude Lanzmann L’avventura (1960) Michelangelo Antonioni Titanic (1997) James Cameron Notorious - L'amante perduta (1946) Alfred Hitchcock Mean Streets (1973) Martin Scorsese Lezioni di Piano (1993) Jane Campion Non aprite quella porta (1974) Tobe Hooper Fino all'ultimo respiro (1960) Jean-Luc Godard Apocalypse Now (1979) Francis Ford Coppola Come vinsi la guerra (1926) Buster Keaton In the Mood for Love (2000) Wong Kar-wai Interceptor - Il guerriero della strada (1981) George Miller Il lamento sul sentiero (1955) Satyajit Ray Rosemary's Baby (1968) Roman Polanski I segreti di Brokeback Mountain (2005) Ang Lee E.T. - L'extraterrestre (1982) Steven Spielberg Senza tetto né legge (1985) Agnès Varda Moulin Rouge! (2001) Buz Luhrmann La passione di Giovanna D'Arco (1928) Carl Theodor Dreyer La vita è un sogno (1993) Richard Linklater Bambi (1942) David Hand Carrie - Lo sguardo di Satana (1976) Brian De Palma Un condannato a morte è fuggito (1956) Robert Bresson Parigi brucia (1990) Jennie Livingston Ladri di biciclette (1948) Vittorio De Sica King Kong (1933) Merian C. Cooper e Ernest B. Schoedsack Beau Travail (1999) Claire Denis 12 anni schiavo (2013) Steve McQueen Il matrimonio del mio migliore amico (1997) P. J. Hogan Le onde del destino (1996) Lars von Trier Intolerance (1916) D.W. Griffith Il mio vicino Totoro (1988) Hayao Miyazaki Boogie Nights (1997) Paul Thomas Anderson The Tree of Life (2011) Terrence Malick Agente 007 - Missione Goldfinger (1964) Guy Hamilton Jeanne Dielman (1975) Chantal Akerman Sognando Broadway (1966) Christopher Guest Pixote - La legge del più debole (1981) Héctor Babenco Il cavaliere oscuro (2008) Christopher Nolan Parasite (2019) Bong Joon-ho Kramer contro Kramer (1979) Robert Benton Il labirinto del fauno (2006) Guillermo del Toro Assassini nati - Natural Born Killers (1994) Oliver Stone Close Up (1990) Abbas Kiarostami Tutti insieme appassionatamente (1965) Robert Wise Malcolm X (1992) Spike Lee Bella di giorno (1967) Luis Buñuel The Shining (1980) Stanley Kubrick Scene da un matrimonio (1974) Ingmar Bergman Pink Flamingos (1972) John Waters Frank Costello faccia d'angelo (1967) Jean-Pierre Melville Le amiche della sposa (2011) Paul Feig Toy Story (1995) John Lasseter Tutti per uno (1964) Richard Lester Alien (1979) Ridley Scott Donne sull'orlo di una crisi di nervi (1988) Pedro Almodóvar La parola ai giurati (1957) Sidney Lumet Il laureato (1967) Mike Nichols
Dall’articolo "I 100 migliori film della Storia del Cinema secondo Variety: 1° Psyco, 5° Pulp Fiction, 33° 8 1/2, 45° Titanic" di Antonio Bracco
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perlen-gold · 2 years
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For the WIP ask game, Hawke's Father and Just Looking, please *-*
💕 Thank you so much @kourvo I didn’t think someone would actually ask anything about it! 😳 
So, here’s a snippet of the document wittily named “Hawke’s Father” XD
He had never seen his father shout before.
They had always been able to speak, without words. He and his father. Even when he was very young, small as a child with the infant’s display of self-taught will, and reluctant to speak, his mother pleading with him, it was as if his father’s eyes would secretly wink at him, tell him, it’s alright, you can talk when you like and whatever you like.
Malcolm Hawke was a tall man, his jet black hair shiny, a highly gifted mage and the gentlest man his son had ever known. His mouth in that sharply angled face was light with a dainty, subtle, musical  humor that resonated in his every melodious word, a self-ironic humor that was hardly ever at the expense of others.
“Once I was like you, Garrett,” he would say with his mellow, knowing smile under his carefully trimmed beard that was to obscure his appearance for some, and to augment for others. His eyes, immersed in streaming bronze and amber shines, were soft and warm, and often Garrett would stare into their only wood framed mirror searchingly, longing, wondering if that same warm glow was also sheening in his own eyes- If they were like his father’s. “Once I was like you, when I was young. You are like your grandfather whose tongue, for that is what people told, was said to be sharper than an Antivan Crow’s dagger.”
When magic unfolded its first seedling, in his young, dawning life as the daring crocus squints from beneath the innocent snow, his father taught and guided him with a tender smile whispering in his soft eyes. Sadness, yes, humming. Not a glint of reproach strumming, nonetheless. Hours Garrett spent wrapped in his father’s low, modulated, gentle eyes. When experimenting with magic, circumspectly, ever circumspectly, there was never need for words.
Do not be frustrated. Try again.
Slowly. Carefully. Never underestimate your own powers.
They were able to communicate merely by looks and glances during their studies, at dinner, causing Leandra to shake her beautiful head in amazement and affection, during their long walks in the moss and leaf green forest. Like the wind and the rain, always knowing when to approach, come nigh and accompany each other. As the years went by, Bethany joined them, young, skilled, amiable Bethany. She was the portray of his father, not in appearance but in mind and heart, tender and warm like smooth riverside-rocks. Yet, she and his father, they used words, splashed in them, laughing, frowning, interrogating, affectionate words. His father and he, they never wanted for words. Little Bethany was well aware of them and would gaze in awe, exclaiming: “What? What is it? Tell me! I want to know, too! Tell me too, Papa!”
(Excerpt from Ablaze)
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sourfacedlemon · 8 months
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Lemonfic Masterlist [3/17/24]
SourFacedLemon is the tertiary account of TheAceApples/@sourfacedlemon is the sideblog of @aces-to-apples
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Works: [ 7 ] Fandoms: [ 2 ]
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Star Wars:
"hold it in your mouth for a minute (real hunger has a real taste)"
"It wasn't about anything so shallow as physical desire. They wanted each other in the way of flesh wanting to knit itself together over a wound." Explicit, No Archive Warnings, Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Savage Opress/Clone Trooper Glitch
"a burning house i want to live in"
The Sith Master falls and a new Lord rises to take his place. Except, no, he does not. Mature, No Archive Warnings, Star Wars: Prequel Trilogy, Darth Maul/Anakin Skywalker
"little heart goes pitter-patter"
Wolffe's a little confused but he's got the spirit. Teen, Underage, Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Ahsoka Tano/CC-3636 | Wolffe
"house on fire"
Love is weird. Teen, No Archive Warnings, Star Wars: The Clone Wars, RC-1207 | Delta-07 | Sev/Anakin Skywalker
"sticky sweet stuck in your teeth"
Maul comes back from being Selected changed, but not unrecognizable. Explicit, Rape/Non-Con, Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Feral/Darth Maul
Dragon Age:
"caging the best of us"
Malcolm can only be grateful that Leandra is no longer with them to witness the destruction of the home they built together. Teen, No Archive Warnings, Dragon Age II, Gamlen Amell/Malcolm Hawke
"memento (mori)"
King Cailan has a very special request for Duncan's new warden recruit. Explicit, No Archive Warnings, Dragon Age: Origins, Cailan Theirin/Female Surana
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