this is the hawk party you know

i hate seeing people whine about ‘poor baby anders why would anyone hate him he did nothing wrong! he just wants peace for mages!!’ Because, boy! There are so many reasons to hate him. So I’m gonna list out all the reasons I hate this shitty ass character :) so sorry if it’s long

obviously, he blew up a chantry and killed a lot of innocent people. Let me repeat that because some reason people think that’s okay. Anders blew up a place of worship and killed innocent people.

Not only that but it made Meredith call for the right of annulment which gave templars the right to kill every mage in the circle. So not only did he kill innocent people in the chantry that he fucking blew up, innocent mages of the circle can also die.(depends on if you side with templars.)

The conversation he had with Aveline about her dead husband, which obviously crossed a line.

  • Anders: So you married a templar, huh?
  • Aveline: What of it?
  • Anders: Are they all as dirty as they seem?
  • Aveline: What?
  • Anders: Did he ever ask you to play “the naughty mage and the helpless recruit?” Maybe the “secret desire demon and the upstanding knight?”
  • Aveline: That’s disgusting!
  • Anders: I hear it’s quite popular.

The way he acts towards Fenris and Merrill if Hawke is in a relationship with either of them is disgusting.

  • Anders: I know it isn’t my place to criticize, but…
  • Anders: Are you sure about Fenris?
  • Anders: He seems less a man to me than a wild dog.
  • Hawke: You just don’t know him.
  • Anders: I know as much as I’m ever likely to.
  • Fenris: That’s right, mage.
  • Anders: He has let one bad experience color his whole world. Surely you want someone more openminded?
  • Fenris: A mage and a hypocrite. What company you keep.

He compares him to a dog and says ‘ONE’ bad experience made him like this?? O FUCKING KAY ANDERS

(If Hawke romanced Merrill but also slept with Isabela)

  • Anders: Hawke was a fool to let you move in. You’ll only betray him/her. That’s all your kind can do.
  • Merrill: Why do you only do this to me? Are you jealous? You don’t get upset about Hawke and Isabela.
  • Anders: You can’t really get jealous of someone for sleeping with Isabela. It’s just…understood.
  • Anders: She’s like a side dish. She comes with the meal.

Literally he’s disgusting

  • Anders: I know it isn’t my place to criticize, but… are you sure about Merrill? She acts sweet, but she’ll never choose you over her demon.
  • Hawke: Merrill loves me.

(If Merrill is in the party)

  • Merrill: What right do you have to question us? Is your Justice any different?
  • Anders: Yes. Keep your illusions then. Maker knows I won’t be the one to change them.

How can I forget! He approves to giving Fenris back to Danarius! You get approval from him by sending a slave back to their master. That in itself is enough for me to fucking hate him. He fucking whines about mages needing freedom from the circles and templars but? fenris hates mages? Better send him back to a life of being a slave. :)

lol I’m definitely forgetting some things but I need to get ready for school so this’ll do.  

And to anyone that tries to come and defend him, I DON’T CARE. I literally don’t want to hear what you have to say to try and defend him. I don’t.

Fenris Theory

You guys…

So I was recently watching party comments/reactions for certain thingies for DA2, and I came across a very crazy realization.

So when the whole party is being blood magicked by Idunna, the craziest things happened. So like - when Hawke asks these guys what the hell is wrong with them because they’re telling him to take it easy on her, all of the party members are like - naaaahhh just be gentle, she’s nice and we shouldn’t be hard on her - ALL EXCEPT for the mages…

…and FENRIS.

So I was like - DA FUCK. All the mages are like - “Woah, what the hell am I saying, this lady is doing something weird, Hawke.” And everyone who isn’t a mage is like - “take it easy, she’s had it rough blah blah”, EXCEPT for Fenris! When Hawke is like, “what the hell is wrong with you?” Fenris is like “I-I don’t know, be careful.”


Why is he the only non-mage who doesn’t get fooled or enchanted (all the way) by this blood mage?

Obviously the answer is because he has those markings - BUT do you realize what this means!? You guys - this means Fenris’s connection to the fade is as strong as a mage’s.

Those lyrium markings don’t just affect his physical abilities, but his entire body is wired like a mage’s. He’s just as connected to the fade - Fenris just isn’t marked by lyrium - he IS lyrium. Woooaaahh. So basically - because lyrium exists in the fade just as much as in reality - his abilities actually give them the ability to phase into the fade.


He’s phasing in and out of the fade!


That also means that if he basically has that ability, then he should be able to physically travel between the two worlds. HEHEHE.

This also means that if he is lyrium, he should be able to hear and understand the song of both blue and red lyrium. (I’ll get to that significance another time).

What this also means, that if you for some insane reason, chose to have your Hawke “die” in the fade (the creators said that whoever was left in there isn’t necessarily dead) then Fenris is actually the only person (now that the Inquisitor had their arm chopped off) that is capable of saving him.

If Fenris is this perfect blend of a living lyrium catalyst, he could successfully enter the fade and get Hawke out of there. I firmly believe that if that was studied more than he would be able to do it. As Danarius had wanted of his slave, Fenris was basically a limitless supply of lyrium for his magic.(Again, how this is done I will get into another time).

Another thing that made me stop and turn to look at Fenris a couple times is his insane ability to feel the veil. Though they could be just offhand comments, I somehow doubt that. The example I’m referring to here is his comment as you walk on the Bone Pit for the first time. Fenris says: “Many slaves died here, their cries linger in the stone.” But if you recall from any Dragon Age lore, we all know that the veil is thin where great tragedy struck, such as war, murder, and of course the slaughtering of many innocent slaves. It’s obvious that what Fenris is “hearing” is the cries of the spirits who are mimicking the deaths of those slaves that were slaughtered. But the only way one could hear that, would be if they could actually feel the veil, much like any other mage who is attuned to the Fade. Fenris is just as attuned to it, and he shows this time and time again.

Of course he could just be being epic, but again, I doubt that, as that’s a pretty amazing comment for someone who isn’t a mage.

I’m also piecing this together in the aspect about this - after Fenris sleeps with Hawke, he says he’s was able to recall his memories. I think by now that us FenHawke shippers have a canon that Fenris’s markings light up during “intense” moments, but think about this. What if the reason why Fenris is able to recall his memories at that time is because his lyrium is allowing him to brief the fade? What if those markings bring him ever closer to the fade, to a point where spirits would begin to take the shape of his memories that he so desperately wants back? That would explain why he was able to recall those memories, even though his mind had been wiped, and also why he immediately forgot them once they had stopped.

Now, I know you must be thinking “wait - wouldn’t that mean that Fenris would be able to recall his memories every time he lit up to tear someone’s heart out?”

No, not necessarily.

I’m a huge fan of the idea that spirits of compassion, though rare, tend to seek those that are searching and looking for something. While Fenris fights, that’s obviously not pleasurable, and his mind isn’t focused on the things he wants.

However, I believe that while he and Hawke slept together, that was a moment of intense want. He wanted something, and his mind was in a place where coupled with that intense emotion, his lyrium linked to the fade. In this instance, it wouldn’t be too surprising that a spirit came along and generously allowed him to recall his memories.

I like this theory, and I think that, out of some of the ones I’ve heard, this is nicely simple and would explain a lot of his power.

I’ll keep adding to this if I find more proof!

(Also, if you’d like, I’ve posted a theory on how this plays a part in Hawke’s rescue. Check it out)

Great Comet characters as shit I have said
  • Natasha: She touched my leg once so we're basically married.
  • Pierre: The number of times this week I have thought "death doesn't sound so bad" is truly staggering. I was just eating bread and boom, there it was again.
  • Sonya: You know I can't hold your hand to your car next year, right? I'm graduating? I know the wind is scary but no.
  • Marya: I am the law here and we play Viking metal at practice now, bitch. It fuels my aggression.
  • Anatole: Yo I got this chick's number even though I hit myself in the face with a pen because she has a thing for drummers, which I kind of am. Just not, like, in a band. It's fine, she lives in a different time zone. She'll never know.
  • Dolokhov: I will fight you with my two broken hands!
  • Helene: Once I thought I was a heterosexual. Then girls happened.
  • Bolkonsky: Sometimes I miss my hawk screech tic, other times I think having friends is fine too.
  • Mary: Not all of my suffering is because of women. Just, like 65%. Some of it is general life.
  • Balaga: (going 80 in a 25) Stop signs are suggestions!
  • Andrey: I wasn't at this party but I still heard all the ways y'all fucked up.
I’m Sorry (I Fell In Love Tonight)

( PROMPT: We’re making out on the couch when a member of your family - who doesn’t know we’re friends with benefits - walks in and what do you mean I have to be your pretend girlfriend? )

A/N: I’M BACK!! FIRST STORY SINCE MY ARRIVAL IN ROME!! I’ll be posting sneak peeks of my stories, as well as edits and graphics on my Instagram (3rdgymbros), so do follow me there!! Comments and reblogs are appreciated! I love you guys!!

WARNINGS: Sin. But slight sin this time. 

Taglist (temporary, for this series only): @mashed-fandom-imagines | @gryffindoggo | @ardenthly | @hawkiye

Taglist (permanent): @mainspidey | @x-wing-starwriter |@tomsleftbrow |@tryn25|@tanglefire | @midnight-memorial | @tiny-friggin-human |@tacklemyackles|@fangeekkk |@beamagtuto | @captainaudreystark | @hellosuperewczi | @dasia-aye

Hands, warm and strong, grip your hips. Peter’s lips, so firm yet soft, press against yours. His mouth slants against yours, seeking and ravenous, sucking on your lips and tongue. Moaning, you arch into him, your fingers tangled in his silky hair.

Keep reading

the mischaracterization of fenris

After being in the Dragon Age fandom for a considerable amount of time, there are common misconceptions about Fenris that I see being shared frequently. Fenris is a very popular character in the fandom and he no doubt is treated more favorably than Anders, but he is still mischaracterized by the fandom. The main fallacy that I am addressing today is “Fenris hates all mages!” which is just… why. The fandom frequently reduces Fenris to a few traits which do not accurately represent his character as there is so much more to him than that.

First and foremost, Fenris does not hate mages. Yes, he disapproves when you side with mages, but you have to keep his background in mind. Fenris was a slave in the Tevinter Imperium for a large portion of his life, and anyone who has played any of the Dragon Age games - especially Dragon Age 2 and Dragon Age: Inquisition - know full well about mistreatment of slaves by most mages and magisters in Tevinter. Slaves are are treated horribly–they are forced to endure every kind of abuse and are sometimes sacrificed in blood rituals for the mages’ benefit. From Fenris you find out that he was physically and verbally abused, denied meals and denied sleep. According to his sister Varania, he entered a grueling competition to win freedom for his mother and sister, and had lyrium etched into his skin through a ritual as a result of his victory–an extremely painful ritual which caused him to lose all of his memories as well. The markings themselves are very sensitive and painful, thus causing Fenris to show reluctance to being touched.

 As a result of the lyrium in his skin, Fenris was kept around by Danarius - the magister who was his master - paraded him around as some sort of awful attraction. Danarius also referred to Fenris as his “Little Wolf”, which is why it would be inappropriate for the fandom to refer to Fenris using that nickname since it is extremely possessive and dehumanizing. So when Fenris is being wary of any mages that Hawke meets during their travels, it is not because Fenris blames all mages that he meets for what happened to him, but because what he had experienced in the Imperium because of selfish mages is all he knows. Fenris isn’t barely restrained or just flat-out attacking any mages that they meet - he is on guard around mages he doesn’t trust or know personally, which brings me to another point: his relationship with Bethany.

When Hawke brings Bethany along to assist Fenris in quest ‘Bait and Switch’, Fenris tells Hawke to be careful of Bethany:

You harbor a viper in your midst. It will turn on you and strike when you least expect… that is in its nature.

Again, this points to Fenris experience during his time in Tevinter. He even speaks of how magic is a “plague” that has been burned into his skin (i.e. his lyrium markings) and soul. However, Fenris goes on to say that he is fully aware that magic itself is not bad and that there are mages who use magic responsibly. Of course, Fenris is still weary of even friendly mages as mages are at risk given their unique circumstances:

I’m not blind; I know magic has its uses, and there are undoubtedly mages with good intentions. But even the best-intentioned mage can fall prey to temptation. And then, their power is a curse to inflict upon others.

Where the fandom tends to go wrong with this is whenever they portray Fenris as being unreasonable in his distrust towards mages. They believe that Fenris hates all mages simply because they’re a mage and that there’s nothing more to it than that. To anyone who has paid attention to Fenris’ in-game dialogue, it’s apparent Fenris sees that Bethany fully understands the risks that come with being a mage:

Anders: Not all mages are weak.
Fenris: True. Bethany, for instance, was not weak.

This applies to a mage Hawke as well. Fenris is not unreasonable. He did not trust Bethany/mage Hawke at first, but after getting to know them, he realized that they were responsible individuals that he could trust. Incidentally, this mischaracterization of Fenris leads some in the fandom to believe that it would be impossible to romance/gain maximum affinity with Fenris if they are a (pro-) mage Hawke. Let me assure you right now that this is completely untrue–you can keep Fenris in your party without having to sacrifice your morals. As long as you are friendly to Fenris and don’t side with slavers, you can max out his friendship very quickly while still being very pro-mage.

Despite what happened to Fenris, he is still capable of moving on. Over the course of Act 2 you can clearly see Fenris coming to terms with his abuse in his personal quest ‘A Bitter Pill’. He is finally able to directly confront Hadriana, a magister working under Danarius who constantly tormented Fenris while he was a slave. This is also where he begins to realize that there are people who truly care for him–namely Hawke, regardless of whether Hawke is a mage or not. Like I mentioned before, Fenris is capable of seeing past the fact that someone is a mage. In the end, Hawke being a mage has no impact on how Fenris views them, which is apparent when he enters into a romantic relationship with Hawke or befriends them. 

Keep in mind that I am not saying that this excuses all of Fenris’ behavior towards mages, though. Fenris is still distrustful of mages. He still believes that Meredith is the only one keeping Kirkwall from going to hell, which we all know is… false, since Meredith and the rest of the templars actively antagonize mages and punish those who resist. I am merely reminding everyone not to forget Fenris’ personal experience with magic. 

Please do not downplay the severity of what was done to him. He has every right to be weary of mages. Do not portray Fenris as someone who would attack friendly mages on sight just because they are mages because Fenris has NEVER done that. So, to all of you who keep saying that Fenris would attack Dorian if they were to ever meet - replay the game and pay close attention to how Fenris interacts with mages.  Stop perpetuating that Fenris is a hateful individual who can barely restrain himself. 

ladycougar-trombone  asked:

How about a DA2 companions (romanced too, please) reacting to Hawke who's afraid of large bodies and water and absolutely cannot (and will not) swim? If you do this one, thanks in advance

Aveline: She noticed it when they were on the ship from Gwaren, of course. When Hawke started to get more and more panicked the closer they came to the ship, Aveline approached them and asked what the matter was. Upon finding out the truth, Aveline made sure to push through the crowds of fellow refugees to get Hawke a position in the ship’s brig so that they can see the sky, thinking it would help. She always remembers Hawke’s fear and always takes a greater care with them if she’s in a party going to the Wounded Coast. 

Isabela: She tried to hide her hurt at Hawke’s immediate refusal to join her crew but when she learns the truth a few drinks later, she understands. “Not all of us have sea legs, you know,” she tells them with a grin. “Some of us are just gifted in other ways…like having a sixth sense for finding dirty pantaloons..” Romanced: She was a bit stumped for a while as she tried to think about how she could keep Hawke around and still be a captain of a ship. “I do find it quite alluring to think of having you waiting for me in a little island cottage…with five dogs. No! Six. And a horse, maybe.” 

Varric: Varric found out quite soon after Hawke’s arrival to Kirkwall, and he can sympathise. “I’m not much of a dwarfy dwarf, you know, but I still get the sea sickness. Bah, we’re not made for the open sea. Too open.” He leans back in his chair and gets comfortable. “I’m fine right where I am, besides I heard that dwarves don’t deal with the sea too well. You sure you don’t have a bit of dwarf in you?” 

Carver: He found out as a child, when Hawke was getting pushed around by some of the local village kids and ended up getting thrown into the nearby lake. Carver had saved them, and since then has felt a strong sense of protectiveness over their elder sibling when it comes to their fear of water. He never brings it up to hurt them, even in their worst arguments, and if anyone dares make fun of Hawke for it, Carver will pummel them into the ground. 

Bethany: Beth figured it out when she noticed how anxious Hawke got during bathtime in their childhood. Similar to Carver, she’s very protective over their sibling’s fear and will be very harsh to people who think to use it against them. She makes a habit of warming up Hawke’s bath for them (if they’re not a mage) so that it will be hot in an effort to try and make it less stressful for them. 

Fenris: Fenris was admittedly curious when he noticed how much Hawke hated going near the Wounded Coast, but didn’t trouble them about it for fear of being rude. He overhears Varric mentioning it to one of the twins, but doesn’t question Hawke about it- he figures if they want to talk about it, they will. Romanced: After some time together, he does let them know he understands. “I…will always protect you. From anything you fear.” With a somewhat wry smile, he murmurs, “Even from the ocean, if I must.”

Anders: Is surprised by Hawke’s fear. It just…seems so mundane a thing for someone like Hawke to be afraid of. Then again, Anders once swam across Lake Calenhad to escape the Circle and would have frozen to death had he not been a capable mage. To him, the Lake meant freedom. He realises it obviously doesn’t mean the same thing to other people. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know,” he tells them one day on the Wounded Coast. “I’ll save you if you fall in. I’m an excellent swimmer.” Romanced: He offers to teach them to swim, but doesn’t push it when he’s refused. He cuddles close to them and says, “You know, cats are also scared of water. Sure you’re not hiding any whiskers on that cute face?” 

Merrill: Absolutely understands. She’s not that fond of water herself after the journey from Ferelden. She is happy to accompany Hawke to the Wounded Coast, but is always a little bit jittery around the water, and she and Hawke bond over this. It’s good to find someone who actually understands. Romanced: Merrill likes to tell Hawke that she would dive in the middle of a lake for them, but Hawke usually laughs and says they wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Sometimes when they get a little bit wistful, they dream of going on a honeymoon, but they both firmly agree the location must be miles away from a large body of water. 

Sebastian: He hears it mentioned by one of the other companions but makes no comment on it until he is alone with Hawke. “If you ever wish to discuss your fear, I will always be able to listen. Mayhaps I won’t share your fears, but I can try to help you cope with them as you wish.” He gives them a few strategies he used to deal with his nightmares following his family’s death, and they seem to work well for Hawke’s panic. Romanced: “We’ll have to make sure your chambers in Starkhaven face away from the Minanter river, won’t we?” He says with a gentle kiss and smile. “My royal spouse will have only the finest protection from all threats, I assure you.” 

anonymous asked:

Hello to my new favorite blog!!❤ can you do a how would the rfa+v+saeran would react to a drunk mc? I'm a totally goof ball and get emotional when I'm drunk and made me wonder how they would react. Thank you and have a great day beautiful writer!!!!!!

hello to the anon who just made me really happy!!❤ i’ve honestly never been drunk before (or seen anyone properly drunk, i don’t party or anything even though i’m 18 in a few weeks whoops) so i’m not sure how accurate this is, but i tried ¯\_(ツ)_/¯


  • He initially wanted to stay sober so he could take care of you, but you convinced him to drink a bit
  • Bad idea
  • We all know he is an emotional drunk as well as a lightweight
  • ?? The two of you cried so much ??
  • Honestly the last time anyone let the two of you drink together (at least that much)


  • Would watch over you like a hawk to make sure no one bothered you
  • Willing to give you a shoulder to cry on, but also pull you away from fights
  • Took you outside to get some fresh air and made you drink lots of water, as he didn’t want you to be hungover
  • Lowkey thought it was hillarious to just imagine that you were acting


  • Acting like your baby sitter the entire night tbh
  • “MC, no, I don’t think you need any more drinks”
  • “Do you hate me? You want to break up with me, right? I fucking knew it!”
  • “No I just want you to stop drinki- c’mon, don’t yell at me”
  • “I-I’m sorry! I love you don’t leave me I can’t live without you”
  • Smh MC stop crying on her shoulder


  • He’s able to hold his alcohol well, so he’s used to being the sober one having to deal with drunk people
  • But not his overly emotional girlfriend who clings to his shoulder
  • Awkwardly pats your back if you start crying over random things
  • “E-Elizabeth is so cute! I love her so much!” 
  • “Yes kitten, she is indeed very pretty”
  • He had no idea what to do tbh


  • He doesn’t drink alcohol, so he would be sober and just mess with you
  • Recorded you crying over stupid things for blackmailing you later
  • Followed you everywhere not only to get footage though, but also to take care of you
  • Saved you from falling down the stairs at least twice


  • Tried his best to comfort you and calm you down
  • “Shh angel. Drink some water, okay? Here you go”
  • Started feeling panicky when you cried more because of that
  • Did he say something wrong?
  • When he realized you were crying because “he was so sweet and caring” he just laughed and decided that it was probably time to put you in bed


  • At first he tried to glare at you to make you stop crying, but it didn’t work so he just got annoyed
  • Like Jumin, awkward pats on the back
  • Seriously he’s so uncomfortable with seeing you cry
  • If you started yelling at him, he would probably get mad/upset and just leave someone else to deal with you


I wrote something!! For @hollyand-writes​, who prompted me with: F!Fenhawke prompt from that list you put up (if you’ve got time to write a ficlet!) “With my help, your flirting will be much more socially acceptable.”

I was inspired I guess: 

Why, oh why had she encouraged her mother to give a party like that. No, not a party, a ball. A ball! Hawke is still trying to get used to being rich at all but her mother has embraced the riches of the nightmarish expedition like she’s never been a malnourished refugee, begging to be let into the city gates.

Now she is holding court at the fireplace, laughing as some wealthy widower is flirting with her. She is dressed in a glittering gown that would have paid for the whole ship fare from Lothering to this city.

Hawke is currently questioning if the trip was worth it at all if it has to end with her being trapped in layers upon layers of starched folds. As much as the dress tries to show all of her humble cleavage, it also has a high collar, starched to the point of feeling like wood and it is scratching her chin whenever she turns her head.

Because of that, she has to turn her whole body to address the young man who offers his name and a glass of white wine. She would prefer red wine but apparently, red wine is too strong for ladies and it was hard enough to convince the young man to bring her any wine at all.

She takes a sip and puts on her nicest smile as she addresses the nervous young man. “Serah Desjardin, was it?”

“Desjardins, Serah Hawke, Marlon Desjardins” he repeats, emphasizing the S at the end. “Of the Desjardins of Lydes, Orlais. You might come across that name again some time, as my family is extensive and keen on travelling.”

“That is wonderful.”

The young man looks at her with his glass of red wine stuck half way on its way to his lips. “What is?”

“Travelling?” Hawke answers, heat crawling up her neck. This is the third young man, trying to strike up a conversation with her and he at least brought her a glass of wine, so she is trying her best, but… she knows that she’s failing. “Travelling is so rewarding, to see what Thedas is made of, the people, the land…”

Desjardins takes a big gulp of his wine and Hawke sips again, a tiny sip with her lips pursed. She’s adhering to the clear instructions by her mother that a distinguished daughter of the House of Amell does A) not drink Ale and B) only takes the tiniest sips. With pursed lips. There was a whole lecture about lips and the correct pursing thereof and Hawke is pretty sure that she will get cramps around her mouth tonight from all the pursing.

The young man has emptied his glass — oh how she envies him — and thankfully hides his burp behind a hand. “Well, travelling in Thedas is not quite as romantic as you seem to think. Half of Thedas is fleeing from the Blight or something and you can’t stop the carriage for five minutes anywhere without some dirty child or knifeear begging you for food.”

Red spots appear in her vision. “How unfortunate for the people who had made a living in the country, growing the food we all eat, that they didn’t have the means to stay on their farms.” She has to call on all of her self control to not punch him in the face for ‘knifeear’.

“Yes, it’s unfortunate but there’s plenty of ways to get to places like Kirkwall without harassing innocent travellers — ”

— the stem of Hawke’s wineglass snaps in half between her fingers and the bulb tips over, falls, and shatters on the ground. Shards scatter all over her feet and her silken shoes. Small spots of blood appear where a shard has cut the delicate material and pierced the skin on her feet.

Desjardins stares at her feet with a look of disgust and then turns his nose up and raises his hand. “Servant? Servant, please.”

The remains of the glass stem crunch in her hand as she gets ready to punch that nose all the way to the Deep Roads. But a hand on her arm and a deep and calming voice in her ear stops her.

“It is unadvisable to punch one’s guests with a fist full of broken glass,” Fenris murmurs into her ear.

“Are you sure?” she replies through clenched teeth.

“Very,” Fenris says with a chuckle. He takes her arm and leads her out of the ballroom into the kitchen. He holds her hand over the kitchen sink and opens it slowly. The white glove is already colored in a bright red from the cuts in her hand, just like the tops of her shoes. Fenris pulls the long glove down from her elbow and pumps ice cold water over it.

“Mistress Hawke!” Orana yells out when she sees the blood rinsing off.

“Not mistress, Orana,” Hawke says quietly.

“I’m sorry, Serah, but what happened?”

“Nothing terrible, I was trying to flirt with some orlesian kid and he turned out to be an ass.” She slips out of the shoes and hands them to Orana with the stained glove. “I don’t know if you can fix this somehow but I would be grateful if you could. My mother is going to make me chase the cows when she sees these shoes like that.”

“Of course, Serah Hawke, I know just what to do.” She gathers everything in a towel and hides it in a lower cupboard. “I’ll get to it after the party, so that your mother doesn’t get suspicious if she doesn’t see me bring in the food.”

“Good thinking, Orana, thank you.” Hawke tiptoes to the other side of the kitchen, to the stairs that will take her up to her room without having to cross the ballroom again. Fenris follows her, his bare feet just as quiet as hers. “I could almost be a Rogue, don’t you think?” Hawke says, just as she trips over a broom and sends it down the stairs with loud clattering.

“You’d be perfect for diversion tactics,” Fenris deadpans.

Hawke sighs. “With my luck, this will not be the last catastrophe of the evening.”

“I would hardly call a fallen broom a catastrophe.” Fenris follows her in her room and closes the door behind him.

“No, I meant that stupid, arrogant, good for nothing, rich stink nose of an orlesian cow’s ass down there.” She throws off the starched jacket with its stiff collar and vows to herself to burn it later. The dress looks better like this anyway, it falls softly over her shoulders and the red fabric is a nice contrast to her dark hair. In her closet she finds another pair of flimsy shoes. She can only hope that her mother will be distracted by all the glittering nobles around her and not look at her feet too closely.

“What is it with you and the cows?” Fenris has an amused smile on his lips as he stands there next to her door like a guard.

“Fereldan farmgirl, remember?” She slips into the shoes and crosses over to him. Stopping in front of him, she stares into his green eyes. She is slightly taller than him but she always feels dwarfed by his control and strength. “I guess, I have to get back down there now.”

He swallows, his eyes dropping to her lips before meeting her eyes again. “Yes, probably.” He smiles at her. “But you might want to avoid flirting with orlesians.”

She groans. “I could arm wrestle all of them in my sleep but talking to them?”

Fenris chuckles. “Maybe I can help.”


“At least, with my help, your flirting will be much more socially acceptable than that.”

Hawke clenches her fists and sighs. “Alright, what should I talk about?”

Fenris grins. “First and foremost, you should not talk but listen. Make the man feel important by listening intently, asking him questions about what he does.”

“But I don’t care!” she groans out. “They’re all so boring.”

“Ask me.”

“About what?”

Fenris bows towards her, one leg stepping behind him, his back perfectly straight. Hawke is astonished how perfectly aristocratic he looks.

“Serah Hawke, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Fenris. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Hawke struggles to get her knees to bend to the kind of curtsy that her mother has taught her. “The pleasure is all mine, Serah Fenris. What brings you to Kirkwall?”

Fenris gives her an encouraging smile and then falls back into his role. He stands straight, his head held high and it is a stark contrast to his usual stance of being ready to fight at all times. “I’m collecting books on elven and Tevinter history and I’m hoping to find a few rare pieces for my collection here.”

“Oh, how interesting,” Hawke says. “Have you found anything yet?”

Fenris interlaces his fingers and nods. “Yes, I saw a few promising places at the market this morning and I plan to return to it tomorrow. Would you like to accompany me for that?”

Hawke isn’t sure if this is part of the game or if he’s really asking her to go with him, just them, without the others. It would be a first. “Yes, I would love to,” she rushes to say before the moment passes.

Fenris blushes and opens his mouth but closes it again without speaking.

“Ehm,” Hawke stammers, “what do I do if I don’t know what to say anymore?”

Fenris swallows. “You could always ask for a dance.”

Hawke holds her hand towards him. “Would you like to dance with me, Serah Fenris?”

“It would be my pleasure,” he says and his voice has a new rasp to it. He takes her hand and holds it out to the side and wraps his other arm around her waist, pulling her close. The music from the ballroom is muted but still loud enough for them to hear.

He takes a careful step forward and Hawke lets herself be steered by his lithe form pressed against her. He leads her in a slow circle around herself, holding her so close that she couldn’t stray away from his steps if she wanted.

But she doesn’t want to step away. She doesn’t care for the party downstairs, where her mother is probably already looking for her. She wants to stay here, in Fenris’ strong arms, guided around her room to the faint sound of music. She leans into him, closing her eyes as her cheek rests against his ear.

She has never danced like this before.

The music stops and Fenris twirls her out of his arms and pulls her back again. She laughs, slightly dizzy from the spin and he holds her so that she doesn’t stumble. She catches a glimpse of his eyes and her heart stops for a beat. She can’t put into words what she sees in them but they pull her towards him like a force.

Their lips connect, softly, fleeting, barely more than a dash of wind across a rose petal.

They both freeze.

It can’t be more, not now, they both know. But it’s more than she has ever hoped for.

“We must go back downstairs,” he mumbles against her lips.

“I know.” She lets her lips stay open, softly pressing forward. She feels him hesitate but then he presses back, his lips open like hers.

The music downstairs swells up again and the moment shatters. They both step back, and Hawke takes a deep breath. She holds out her arm for Fenris to take.

He wordlessly takes it and leads her out of the room and down the stairs. When a group of elegantly dressed men turn around to look at her, her lets go of her arm and retreats into the background like a bodyguard.

He watches her, how she charms the men, her flirting obviously improved. Occasionally she glances over to him, giving him a smile that nobody else ever gets from her.

That is enough. It’s more than he has ever thought possible for someone like him.

I hope you like it @hollyand-writes. :D

There’s probably a moment in Inquisition during one of those quests that Hawke tags along for where the party is dying. Like, they’re all about to be dead.

Varric shouts “Hawke, do something”!

And Hawke, being the salty fuck they are, responds with “Like what? heal you? You guys used to laugh at me for dragging Anders’ ass everywhere we went, but I didn’t hear you complain when he saved us all from certain doom. But, you know, I should totally leave him at home, despite the Inquisition not having a healer. Okay, because that makes sense. That makes perfect sense”.

And Varric’s like “Hawke, we’re dying; stop being bitter that you can’t make out with your boyfriend on Curly’s desk just to piss him off”.


If you follow me here or on Twitter you know drawing our D&D adventuring party has been my priority for the past month. WELL, guess what! I’ve finally finished all 7 of us! Meet The Shadow Hawks. We’ve survived goblin infested castles, orc strongholds, airship battles, undead cities, necromancers, water weirds, dragons, and F*CKING GHOSTS.

From left to right we have Himo [Wood Elf Rogue], Hemlig [Human Monk], Fubar Kimono-Ono [Goliath Paladin], Nim [Moon Elf Sorceress], Xanaphia [Wood Elf Cleric], Ilex [Teifling Druid], Ezra Crestridge my human fighter and FINALLY - @mindwasp our badass DM who puts in many hours to build a world for us to adventure in.

Also, the compiled piece.

So, I’m replaying DA2...

I currently am almost at the end (even though, I have to do Mark of the Assassin and Legacy, still.) and my current party is Alix (the new Hawke), Sebastian, Fenris and Merrill.

And I just LOVE Sebastian and Fenris’s whole friendship evolving through conversations while we’re out. Despite the fact that their first conversations do seem to be about whether Fenris is Andrastian or Sebastian trying to subtley convert him to being even a little bit faitful, there are gems like these ones that just make me go “aww”.

Sebastian: You know, when I return to Starkhaven you’re welcome to come with me.
Fenris: And do what, exactly?
Sebastian: You’re a fine warrior. If you could train men to fight like you do, we’d be unstoppable.
Fenris: I’m no leader, and I doubt humans would want me training them.
Sebastian: Then why not train elves? I bet there’s plenty who would admire all you’ve accomplished.
Fenris: I… haven’t accomplished anything.
Sebastian: No? You are your own man, living as you see fit—you give yourself too little credit.
Fenris: You are being kind.
Sebastian: Not at all. Think about it.

Look at how this conversation relates to Fenris’s character, he wants to get away from his past and once he has, he doesn’t know what he should do. Sebastian offers to take Fenris to Starkhaven with him and give him a job and a purpose. Then, Fenris notes that humans wouldn’t take too kindly to an elven trainer, and Sebastian asks him why not elves instead of humans. I get that this conversation does draw on Sebastian’s desire to raise an army to reclaim Starkhaven, but here is a human who’s talking to an elf and treating elves as equals within this conversation. He references that many elves would admire Fenris being free and living as he sees fit because elves are a historically oppressed race.

It’s a conversation where Sebastian encourages Fenris to believe in himself a little more and tries to help him out as a friend.

  • Aaron: Carry on without us, why don't you?
  • Chas: Sorry, we were starving.
  • Charity: And gasping. Soz.
  • Harriet: Er... am I up?
  • Aaron: Erm, well, no offence, but we kind of did our own thing.
  • Harriet: Wow. Well, then in that case, I'll bless you with gin and tonic and enjoy the party.
  • Chas: Your own thing?
  • Robert: Yeah, we did it somewhere a little bit less...
  • Chas: Hideous?
  • Robert: Yeah.
  • Aaron: Sorry.
  • Chas: No, I'm sorry we... we put you off. Oh, come here! Mmm, oh, baby! Aww... (hugs Aaron and then Robert)
  • Robert: Liv doesn't think it's her fault or anything, does she?
  • Chas: No, no, no. I er... Well, I caught her with the bubbly. So she's gone for a lie down.
  • Aaron: Mum!
  • Chas: What? It was one glass on an empty stomach. I watched her like a hawk but you know what she's like, she's sneaky.
  • Charity: (rings bell) Good news, everybody. It wasn't a barney, and they got wed!
  • (cheering and applause)
  • Adam: Get in, mate, nice one!
  • Aaron: Mate? You're no mate of mine, you liar!
  • Adam: Oh, come on, Robert made me do it, don't be like that!
  • Vic: I am made up for the pair of youse.
  • Diane: Me, too. Congratulations, pet. Oh, do you know, if your Dad could see you today...
  • Aaron: Oh, Diane, you haven't got a drink, come on. No good, is it?
  • Diane: Ooh, brownie points to the new son-in-law. Break his heart and you're dead, though. Just saying.
  • (chuckles, cheering)
  • Zak: (bringing the welly) Come on, son. Let's be having you.
  • Robert: Eh?
  • (laughter)
  • Chas: Now the welly!
  • All: Drink from the welly! Drink from the welly! Drink from the welly!

anonymous asked:

hey hey would u mind sharing what's wrong with fenris's act 3 quest? i felt it was.... weird but i haven't picked up on why beyond that. thank u! love ur blog So Much

Yep I can tell you.

1.  Fenris cannot canonically read until act 2 of DA2, yet Danarius said he knew Fenris couldn’t stay away forever/would contact Varania somehow.  How did he know this?  What was he doing? Watching Fenris learn how to read?  How was Fenris supposed to find his way back to Danarius if he couldn’t read anyway, Danarius’ entire talk is wtf in characterization.

2.  Danarius arrives in Kirkwall on a boat… when according to the map of Thedas, they would have gotten to Kirkwall sooner by wagon.  Also, remember that boat travel in DA’s timeline is very bad, so why would anyone purposely take a boat who isn’t Isabela?

3.  If you give Fenris to Danarius, he leaves by boat, which again…. doesn’t make any sense?

4.  How did Aveline track down Varania?  Why isn’t this explained more when all Hadriana tells you is:  you have a sister.  She doesn’t really give you the detail of said sister or anything.  Fenris doesn’t know his last name, or even his first name like… this seems like way too many plot holes of:  I found your sister Fenris.  HOW did you do that Aveline?!

5.  Why does Varania look nothing like Fenris?

6.  Every single person in Hawke’s party either does nothing or approves of giving Fenris back.  In origins if I dumped blood on the ashes, Leliana was gonna kill me, same with Wynne, but no one in DA2 has a back bone to stand up to Hawke?  Justice doesn’t say anything about Hawke giving Fenris back when he got angry at Anders for owning a cat in DAOA?  This is all really ooc.

It seems like not only was his act 3 personal quest not thought through at all, but it also seems like it was slapped on at the last minute.  It was rushed through, and it’s unfortunate just how badly written it is in canon.

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Where: Moraby Dry Docks - Lower La Noscea

When: August 20th, 2017 - From 5pm EST to 8pm EST.

We welcome anyone regardless of whether or not they wish to be a vendor or a spectator, entertainer or security. This event is designed to actively help foster mercantile RP within our community and businesses of all walks may attend and hawk their wares.

Keep reading

  • Bethany: I know it didn't work the way you wanted, but... it was brave, what you did with Justice.
  • Anders: It was meant well. I don't know if that's enough to forgive me.
  • Bethany: It must have been hard for him, being trapped outside the Fade. In a place where no one's like him.
  • Bethany: I bet he appreciated having a friend.
  • Anders: He did.
Fenris Inquisition Party Banter, Part two

Spoilers for DA:I and DA:2 are below, read at your own risk. And, because I read the tag, even more Dorian interactions! [part one]

Iron Bull

Iron Bull: You know the Qun.

Fenris: I know of it. 

Iron Bull: How did an escaped slave learn about that? The ‘Vints don’t exactly like us.

Fenris: Perhaps that is why I took an interest. 

Iron Bull: Could be. But it isn’t. 


Iron Bull: I heard from Varric you and your crew took down a high dragon.

If Hawke was Purple

Fenris: (sighs) Yes. Hawke was fascinated with them. 

Iron Bull: I think I could like this Champion. 

Fenris: The two of you should never meet. 

If Hawke was Blue

Fenris: It was mostly an accident. When the dragon showed up we couldn’t  avoid it. 

Iron Bull: Yes, but how was it? 

Fenris: Killing a high dragon?

Iron Bull: Yeah. 

Fenris; Annoying. 

If Hawke was Red

Fenris: (groans) Not another one… 

Iron Bull: Another what?

Fenris: If you lead me into battle with a dragon, I’m feeding you to it. 

Iron Bull: (laughs) Now I really want to know what happened!


Fenris: Did you see that woman in the village back there?

Iron Bull: Which one? 

Fenris: The one who wasn’t staring at either of us. 

Iron Bull: Probably a Venatori. 

Fenris: They’ve spread further than I like. 


Fenris: You owe me a sovereign. 

Iron Bull: (grumbles) It’s not right. You’re half my size!

Fenris: I wasn’t the one who brought coin into it. 

Iron Bull: Krem is never letting this one go. 

If Varric is in the Party

Varric: That mean’s Broody can finally pay me back. 

Fenris: I told you I was good for it. 



Sera: You’re not gonna go all elfy on me like weirdy, are you? Because if you are, I’ve got an arrow with your name on it! 

Fenris: ahm… what? 

Sera: You know! All the plight of elves and that shite. 

Fenris: I’m from Tevinter. None of the elves there were Dalish. 

Sera: Sounds nice. 

Fenris: The slavery, blood magic, and human sacrifice beg to differ. 

Sera: pbbbfbttt


Sera: So, I’ve been thinking – shut it you lot – and I was thinking that you ‘n Dorian are nothing alike. 

Fenris: Thank the maker for that. 

Sera: I’m not done, sulky! So anyway. No magic right? And he’s all primp and toss and sparkly – even when there’s blood!

Fenris: Is this going somewhere?

Sera: Yeah, you’re both still the same. 

Fenris: You make less sense than anyone I’ve ever met. 


Fenris: I’ve heard of Red Jenny. 

Sera: Yeah? What next, you gonna tell me it’s rubbish? We do just fine the way we’ve done it, got it?

Fenris: I was going to say you should look into doing some work in Tevinter. 

Sera; With all the weirdy blood magic and stuff? Pffftt, pass. 

If Dorian is in the Party

Dorian: I can see it already. Magister’s running around covered in glue and feathers. 

Sera: (cackles) yeah.

Fenris: (laughs)


Sera: Okay so you glow and kill things. Handy that. You ever been stuck in a dark spot and thought murdery things just to light up sp you could see? 

Fenris: No. But it’s good for pick pocketing nobles. 

Sera: What you mean you just – reach in and take it? Wicked! You should pants ‘em too. Nobs bein’ surprise pantsed by an elf! Never live it down. 

Fenris: I’ll try it some time. 

If Vivienne is in the party

Vivienne: Charming.



Cassandra: You knew the champion? 

Fenris: You read Varric’s book, you know the answer. 

if Fenris was Romanced by Hawke

Cassandra: I did. Why are you not with her/him?

Fenris: Varric went missing. We could cover more ground by splitting up. 

If Varric is in the party

Varric: (laughing) Be still my heart! I always knew you two loved me, Broody. And the seeker thought no one would notice 

Fenris: Hawke doesn’t abandon friends. Neither do I. 

If Fenris was not Romanced by Hawke

Cassandra: What was it like? Fighting by his/her side? 

If Hawke was Blue

Fenris: Hawke was my closest friend. Having him/her at my back meant I never had to watch it. 

If Hawke was Purple

Fenris: Often Absurd. Hawke attracted trouble like no one I’ve ever met. 

If Hawke was Red

Fenris: Bloody. We saw the abomination more often that I would have liked.


Fenris: So your order was responsible for the Templars. 

Cassandra: After a fashion, yes. 

Fenris: And investigated them. 

Cassandra: I’m beginning to think this is going some place I will not like. 

Fenris: Why did none of you show up in Kirkwall when the Knight Commander went mad?

Cassandra: I do not have an answer for you. The Seekers failed the city of Kirkwall. I will not let it happen again. 


Cassandra: I thought Varric was exaggerating. 

Fenris: Exaggerating? 

Cassandra: The brooding. I thought he was making it up. 

If Varric is in the party

Varric: (laughs) I warned you, Seeker. 

Cassandra: Hm. 

If Varric is not in the party

Fenris: (sighs) I’m not brooding. I’m as content as I can be with a hole in the sky spitting demons at us. 

Cassandra: Hm…


Cassandra: Are you are Andrastian, Fenris?

Fenris: I was a slave. Andraste worked to free them. The two were hardly compatible. 

Cassandra: So you do not believe in the maker. 

Fenris: What does it matter what I believe? The Maker is there and he left, or he isn’t. The world goes on exactly the same either way. 


Bonus Dorian

Dorian: Who was your master, Fenris? 

Fenris: He’s dead now. And good riddance. 

Dorian: Hm, yes, I should have expected that. I was only wondering because I think I’ve heard of you. 

Fenris: Are slaves killing their former master’s really so interesting? 

Dorian: (laughs) When they glow, yes. 

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Where: Moraby Dry Docks - Lower La Noscea

When: April 16th, 2017 - From 5pm EST to 8pm EDT.

We welcome anyone regardless of whether or not they wish to be a vendor or a spectator, entertainer or security. This event is designed to actively help foster mercantile RP within our community and businesses of all walks may attend and hawk their wares.

Keep reading

Let’s be serious for a moment - I would give anything for more Hawke in Dragon age: Inquisition.

  • Short conversations with Varric you could overhear?
  • A nod to Leliana, for they remember each other from Lothering.
  • A mage Hawke in discussion with Dorian about Amell family and magic and Tevinter. (Bonus if romanced Fenris/Anders)
  • A baking contest with Sera.
  • “So, you kidnapped my favourite dwarf, Seeker?”
  • “OK, but why aren’t you dressed like a Warden…?”
  •  Imagine the crack that could happen between Hawke and the Iron Bull. “You know a lot about the Qun.” “Yeah, I was quite close with the Arishok…”
  • “There is this amazing hatshop in Hightown, Cole, I’ll take you there someday…”
  • Solas and Hawke ranting about Dalish elves!
  • A chance to bring Hawke as a member of your party, as a companion?
  • A banter or several with other party members.
  • Hawke’s bad jokes and inapropriate flirting in the war room? What would be better?
  • Hawke’s mabari! There is not enough dogs in the Inquisition!
  • A game of Wicked Grace with Hawke, Inquisitor and Varric, when suddenly Hawke gets all talky.
  • No stupid excuses why they are alone? Of course their LI went to Skyhold with them!
  • A chance for Inquisitor to get to know Hawke. 
  • …….

anonymous asked:

Part 2 of Takao's fem best friend's unrequited love please?? An extra req, if you're gonna do a time skip, can you pls not make it longer than two months? I'd like those emotions to be raw, esp right after Takao knows of her feelings ^^ Thank you!

Anonymous said: Takao anon here! Yes, I’m the original anon who requested the first scenario. Um, honestly, I can’t think of any general plot for this 2nd one; all I actually want is a continuation of the 1st scenario, with more angst before the happy ending~ and yep, I want Takao to return his best friend’s feelings! ^^ So aside from the 2-month specified time, angst+happy ending, and Takao returning (maybe realizing his hidden feelings for her?) that love, like you said, I allow you to do whatever you want. 

I hope you’re not mad at me for delaying this for so long! I honestly don’t know how to feel about this, but here it is, I really hope it’s satisfactory. Since you like the feelings raw, I didn’t put a time skip. Thank you for your patience!

This is a continuation to this story here. You are heavily suggested to proceed only after reading the first part. Female!Reader ahead for consistency. 

It Was Always You by Maroon 5

Originally posted by grrungegoddess

Stupid stupid stupid stupid, he thinks, hands balled into fists at how completely idiotic he is. He should’ve just straightaway ran to your house instead of asking your friends, waiting for them to pick the phone up to ask them where you were, if you were partying with them—that way, he could’ve caught you before it got dark. Although he’s close to your family as your best friend, how is he supposed to knock on the door to your home at nearly midnight? 

What is he going to say if your parents open the front door?

What is he going to say if you are the one who opens the door?

Takao sighs, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his dress shirt and loosening his tie. His hair sticks on his face from sweat, but in contrast to his slightly ragged breath and the sensation of the cold air against his damp skin, his mind is numb. 

He can see your bedroom window from here. It’s dark. You’re probably asleep. The idea of throwing rocks at your window is quickly discarded—you most likely don’t want to look at him in the face again.

The glare of his phone catches his eye and tells him that his girlfriend is looking for him: ten missed calls and a couple dozen of texts, gradually changing tone from sweet questions of where he’s at to a storm of textual rage. He turns off the device—she’s the least of his concerns right now. Takao sits on your empty porch with empty eyes and a rabbit heart as his mind flashes him images of the last few times he hung out with you.

When he can only recall conversations about his relationship and that forced smile on your face, he curses. 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he says to himself, feeling as if his heart is in the fist of a phantom hand, painfully clenching the organ. 

The two of you don’t even talk to each other these days—at least nothing of substance like your usual deep or humorous exchanges. Since the end of his second year in Shuutoku, which is around the time he found his “soulmate” (Takao swallows bitterness at the word—how did he have the gall to use it so lightly?), the conversations he shared with you were shallow banter with him mostly talking about his girlfriend and you having to listen. He’d ask for relationship advice, what a girl likes, where to take her on dates. 

You were probably forcing laughter, faking smiles, crying yourself to sleep when you’re alone.

Takao let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. The night is dark and quiet save for the occasional gust of wind and sounds of crickets singing between the grass, but his mind is loud and disorganized: a mix of realization, question, and self-deprecation. The way you looked at him when he talks, how other people seem to let their gazes linger on you and him—everybody knew, even Midorima noticed, for heaven’s sake. How could he miss the signs? How could he be so blinded, even when he was the one that told you “nothing is going to change” when he got a girlfriend?

If only he could go back in time and punch himself in the face for saying that to you. It obviously turned out to be a lie, no matter how he didn’t mean it to be one. He didn’t just replace you, he made you suffer by putting it in your face for at least one year and you say a single word against it.

He blinks, and a tear slowly makes its way down his cheek. It takes a moment for Takao to realize that he’s crying, but when he does, a wave of thoughts darker than the sky he’s under flood his mind: there’s no way you don’t hate him right now, not when he’s caused you nothing but pain for a long time. That’s why you didn’t talk to him after the graduation ceremony, that’s why you’ve been rejecting his offers to lunch together, that’s why you’ve been oddly quiet whenever the two of you hung out. 

He remembers the big game Shuutoku won and how he doesn’t recall you congratulating him. It must’ve been since then. He must’ve hurt you so much without realizing, like the Prince in The Little Mermaid and how he asked her to dance the night away, not knowing of the swords she feels like she’s stepping on. And like the Prince, too, he discarded her for another, despite the sacrifices she has made and the pain she must endure.

Then, he thinks about what will happen next. His apology won’t be enough, not after what you’ve been through. You’ll grow to despise him, cutting him off from your life like removing a parasitic infection—that’s what he’s been anyway, sucking the life and love out of you. You won’t look at him in the face again when you pass by each other on the street. He might have his girlfriend in one arm, but the thought of him not being in your life coils a rope in his chest.

And when he thinks of you having another person by your side, someone who shares kisses with you, someone who gets to make you smile and laugh, the only one who is allowed to hold you in their arms—and that someone is not him…

Takao feels like he’s been physically hurt, but there are no wounds on his skin to show.

He spends the rest of the night punishing himself in the chest with these thoughts sharp as blade, bleeding tears into the night until he’s too tired to stay awake.

You wake up the next morning with puffy red eyes, gauging that it is approaching afternoon by the strong sunlight that enters your bedroom. The weight of your heavy heart is somewhat diminished, not only by the fact that you cried your eyes out the night before, but also by the faint feeling of hunger. After brushing your teeth and a brisk shower, you change into clean T-shirt and shorts, not bothering to conceal your swollen eyes since you’re staying at home for the rest of the day.

Your parents should already be away for work at this time of the day, leaving you alone in your house. Your assumptions are confirmed when you walk downstairs to find silence—even the television is off. 

So when you enter the kitchen to find Takao, sitting with a plate of half-eaten toast in front of him, you gasp as if you’ve seen a ghost.

He does look ghastly, his paler face contrasting to the marks under his eyes. He shows signs of surprise as well when he sees you, which quickly dissolves into hesitance. He’s here with the full intention of talking to you, apologizing, telling you how stupid he was and how he realizes he doesn’t want a life without you—

—you don’t even know he knows.


“__________-chan,” he says with a start—weird since he’s the one barging in your house. He realizes your swollen eyes and remembers that he spent the night crying too, but he can only hope that you don’t notice.

“What are you—how did you get it?” You look at the front door and back at him again, positive that the entrance is properly locked.

“Your parents let me in,” he answers, “I came here in the morning.” Takao still can see your mother’s reaction when she finds him sleeping on a chair as she checks the porch every morning. She was surprised more than anything, but she didn’t ask when he said he has something very important to say to you.

Maybe she knows, and from the way your father glanced at him before offering him breakfast, Takao thinks he knows too. Have you been so upset that your parents notice what’s going on, though you’re not the type to tell them? Did they mention his name during a family dinner, and all of a sudden you just got quiet, like when he mentions his girlfriend’s name? Did they hear your sounds of sobbing across the hallway at night?

“Oh,” you answer dumbly, making a sandwich for yourself as you face the kitchen counter. You don’t want him looking at you, not when you’re like this: vulnerable and unprepared. “What brings you here today?”

“I—you—” he trips on his own words, “__________-chan, we need to talk.”

Fear overcomes you for a split second at the seriousness of his tone. Takao has rarely used it in his conversations with you, but after knowing him for so long, you can tell. He means business.

“What about?” You ask, putting a slice of cheese on toast before busying your hands with something, anything. You don’t want to talk to him.

“__________-chan, look at me.”

You freeze for a moment and hope he doesn’t notice, but Takao does not hold the nickname Hawk Eye for nothing. You slowly turn to him, looking at him in the eye, keeping your defences up with whatever dignity you have left in you.

In front of you stands the boy who you had your heart in his hands, and instead of looking powerful and confident, he’s not much better than you are. For a second you are tempted to throw in a joke about his face—he must’ve partied so hard and the hangover still hasn’t subsided, but you know the humorous attempt is merely a cover-up of the truth.

“__________-chan,” he calls your name again, softer this time as if reminiscing a memory, “do you… like me?”

At that point, thoughts of lying to him, telling him that of course you do—you’re not best friends if you don’t, are thrown out the window. There’s no use for sugar-coating and false masks anymore. Your grip to whatever leash that has been keeping your sanity together loosens, and tears begin to pool in your eyes as fast as he made you fall in love with him, breaking the dam.

You defy his orders, looking down to the floor and covering your face with both hands. Takao’s eyes widen only a fraction before he feels a pang in his heart. He knows you don’t usually cry in front of people, that you prefer to let loose when you are alone in your room—the fact that you’re openly crying in the kitchen with the cause of your pain right in front of you is proof that he made you go through a lot.

He feels like he’s suffocating.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, “I—I tried not to… I thought—”

He places a comforting hand on your shoulder, attempting to pull you into a hug, but when you flinch and freeze before taking a step back, another portion of his heart breaks. You inhale deeply yet shakily, cupping your hand over your mouth as if it stops the sobbing somehow.

“It’s okay,” you say, a sudden calm overcoming you and his eyebrows crinkle in confusion. “I, we’re not going to the same university, s-so we won’t see each other as much,” you continue, cursing inwardly at your shaky voice when you see Takao’s expression.

“I’ll—I’ll stay out of your way!” It comes out as a suggestion, but it’s like his heart is about to burst in the phantom hand’s tight grip.

“I promise not to get in the way of your relationship.” He swallows, scenes of not seeing you ever again playing in his mind, and his mouth feels dry and bitter.

“I didn’t want you to know in the first place. Just please… pretend you don’t know.” His stomach sinks at the request.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, but it feels as if you’re trying to convince yourself, “I’ll be okay.”

That’s when he snaps, pulling you into a hug so tight you’re encased by his whole body. The desperation in his hands as he cups the back of your head says he’s afraid that you’ll slip through him like sand. Pressed against his chest like this, you feel his rapid heartbeat and warmth, and the tears you have been trying so hard to supress makes their way down your cheek, seeping into the material of his shirt.

“No, don’t, please,” he tells you, exhaling shakily, “I was—if I let you go now you’ll run away, and I spent the whole night thinking about what would happen and I,” he swallows, “I really can’t imagine not having you with me.”

“Then what?” You cry, pushing at his chest in anger to put distance between you. “You want me to stick around and ‘stand by you’ while you’re with your girlfriend? I’ve done that for the past year!” Your voice breaks with the gradually rising volume, evidence of how hard you cried the night before. “I don’t want to go through that anymore. I’ve had enough.”

The room falls into silence as Takao looks at you while you quietly lower your eyes down to the floor. Thoughts run a thousand miles an hour in your head: if Takao only loves you as much as a friend does, there’s no point in having this conversation anymore—at least not until you move on. You must cut all ties with him, start anew, and fall in love again to be ready to face him.

“You hate me now, don’t you?” He asks.

Even the words sting his tongue when he says them.

This time you look him in the eyes as you give him your answer.

“I wish I could,” you whisper, “that would make things so much easier.”

And like a meteor colliding with Earth, there is realization and clarity, like the smoke is cleared out of his mind. When he pulls you by the arm and crashes his lips onto yours in a desperate kiss, it feels as if everything makes sense—it’s right, and he has never felt nothing as perfect as this before.

Your eyes widen at the foreign sensation. You’ve never expected this to happen, never in your wildest dreams—at least not after you’ve discarded them. You feel tears well again in your eyes for the umpteenth time in the past twenty-four hours, because how can you not cry while he’s kissing you and you’re already giving up on him? Any form of resistance you can come up with is futile: your push isn’t as strong and your fists are instead bringing him closer, the way you try to pull away but always responding when he chases you.

Inside, you figure that there is still a bit of hope that he would return your feelings.

Takao’s kiss is deep, passionate, desperate. It’s more emotional than your previous conversation combined, it tells you everything you need to know about him and him you: that he is certainly not willing to let you go or run away, and that a small part of you hasn’t lost your wish of being with him despite what you try to tell yourself.

“I’m sorry,” he says in between kisses, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise, just give me the chance to.”

You gasp his name and he moans against your lips, kissing until the fire in his gut slowly turns into an ember, and by then he’s peppering slow kisses around your face in silent admiration and affection.

“What about your girlfriend?” You ask quietly. You really wish that you can skip this part, but he’s technically still in a relationship with someone else. Takao sighs, fishing out his phone and turning it on. The two of you stare until the blank screen lights up, and after a few seconds you can see notifications flooding in his phone, her name glaring in pixels. You spot snippets of the long sentences she sent to him, cuss words and spelling errors that turns out to be a continuation of what he received the night before.

“It’s clear that she’s upset of me ditching the party last night,” Takao scoffs a bit at that, “but who cares? She most likely found somebody else to grind with on the dance floor if she has the gall to diss me like that.”

“That’s horrible,” you say, eyebrows scrunching lightly with discomfort.

Takao places the device on the kitchen counter, paying absolutely no attention to it before he moves in to kiss you softly on the lips. When you pull away, it’s slow and unwilling, like you want it to last forever, but the need for air makes such wish impossible. His eyes are lidded, looking at you with an expression you can’t exactly decipher. You’ve never seen this look on his face before—something tells you that you’ll see more of this side of him in the future.

“I can’t believe it’s you all along,” he whispers, kissing you one more time. You reciprocate with equally, closing your eyes as you allow yourself to sink in the feeling of him wrapped around your senses. He smiles into the kiss.

“We’ve got a lot of talking to do.”

Hale’s Harbor

Rated: Teen

Words: 10,829

It was supposed to be six weeks of relaxation and intensive bonding with his father before Stiles went off to college. Of course, nothing was ever simple for Stiles. This was something he discovered when his childhood crush, whom he had never actually met, shows up and steers their boat off course. It’s a metaphorical boat. Like Moby Dick.

The day after Stiles graduated high school, his dad came into his bedroom with their old photo album. His mother had made it when she was in the hospital, wanting to leave behind her favorite memories with them. Claudia had shown them both bits and pieces of it while they visited her. Stiles had curled up next to her on the bed while she went through the pictures, telling him stories for each of them. Some were short and offered just enough to tell him who and where the people were, others longer with mournful silences splitting up her words, but Stiles’ favorites were ones that made Claudia laugh. It was his favorite sound, the rumble in her chest shaking him and made him squeal in delight.

He had only been ten when his mother was diagnosed, and twelve when she passed away. It had been too difficult at the time to go through the photo album and hadn’t changed in the years after. Now, Stiles was startled fully awake when his eyes caught sight of it. He hadn’t seen it since his mother’s death and only wondered where his father had put it on the worst of his days, when he needed something tangible of hers to comfort his short breaths.

Now his dad had it clutched between his fingers, knuckles white.

“I’m sorry for keeping this away from you for so long. Every time I tried taking it out of storage, I felt myself slipping again. I couldn’t lose myself again, not when I have you. Stiles, you kept me together when I thought every piece I had left was falling apart. I am so grateful to have you as a son, you know that, right?”

At Stiles’ nod, John continued, “I thought we could go through this together. If that’s alright with you?”

And so they flipped through the book, and Stiles recalled and retold the stories his mother had shared with him so long ago, his dad adding some of his own. It wasn’t until they got to the last page that they found a photo Stiles had never seen before.

John and Claudia were young, probably in their early twenties, and smiling brilliantly at the camera. What struck Stiles was where they were: on a boat called Claudia. John’s quick and shallow intake of breath was mirrored by Stiles. His dad lifted shaking fingers to press gently to the corner of the picture and lift it out. He flipped the picture over and read aloud, “John and me on dad’s boat. Summer 1986.” The words were in his mother’s script.

“This was right after we graduated college,” his dad said softly.

Stiles wiped at his wet cheeks and cleared his throat a few times before he was able to get out, “I didn’t know grandpa had a boat.”

John frowned at Stiles and furrowed his eyebrows. “You know, son. I actually forgot about that boat.” Stiles could see the wheels turn behind his dad’s eyes. “Have any plans this summer?”

Stiles grinned.

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