#Hawkequisitor

[aimeelouart]

The last week of winter break is just going to be nothing but calculus and Hawkequisitor fic, I can feel it

Bull’s words bring Lora’s attention to him, and she gasps excitedly. “Woah!” she says, pointing. “You have horns! And pointy ears!”

“Sure do,” he agrees. “Never seen a Qunari before, huh?”

“Qu-na-ri,” she echoes. “Hmm, nope, and you look way different from the other elves with horns I met. They don’t live here though. And their horns go like⁠—” She makes a gesture sweeping backward over her head.

“Uh⁠—” says the Iron Bull, outright confused for the first time.

“I think he looks a bit more like a dragon, don’t you, Sunshine?” Garrett prompts.

“A dragon! Yeah! Can you be a dragon too?”

“No,” he says slowly, “can… you?”

Sure enough, Lora vanishes into her dragon form and scampers over to the Iron Bull. To his credit, he only flinches a little bit as she scampers up his body to perch on his shoulder. “Yes! Dragons are the best. You should be a dragon if you can.”

The Iron Bull stares. Slowly, his eyes turn to Hawke. He seems to realize that yes, this is very much a test, and looks back at Lora. She has to duck a little to avoid getting bonked by his horn. “...yeah,” he says at length. “Dragons are the best.”

Damn, he passed. “Alright,” says Hawke. “You’re hired.”

[fuckyeahvarric]

When the whole squad looks so dang good.

[that-hawke-woman]

an unquenchable flame

    First there had been pain; stabbing, ringing, radiating through her with every step, every breath. The burst of cold air was a jolt to her system, it invigorated her body and mind to resist the shock that had begun to set in. It also began to bring the events that had just transpired into focus. 

    Corypheus. 

    Ana gripped her side and did her best to keep moving. Corypheus. How had he survived? They’d… they’d killed him, right? The thrill of terror that the memories brought with them made Ana stumble. She clung to the cave entrance for a few moments, trying to survey the landscape that spread out before her. Useless. There were a few trees, but beyond that, she could see nothing but white. Snow, and wind, and the fading light of day. The tunnel must have taken her out the other side of the mountain.

    Eventually the pain subsided, numbed by necessity and the bitter wind. Then, however, the cold truly came. Gloves could not keep out the chill, and Ana had wrapped her arms around her waist, in an attempt to keep her fingers from freezing. An archer with frostbite was about as useful as a dull kitchen knife. How long had she been walking, anyway? There was no real way to tell where she was going, besides the vague direction the setting sun gave her. She also was unfamiliar with these lands, having spent as little time in Fereldan over the last ten years as possible. The wind was strong; It whipped around her, pulling her this way and that, and she just wasn’t strong enough to resist. Was she bleeding? She was injured, no doubt, but had her body taken the brunt of it,  or had her soul?

    Then, the darkness started to creep in. The sun had set, and the only sounds were of the wind, the wolves, and her own struggle. The darkness had bled into more than just the sky, however. When her eyes were closed, and even when they weren’t, Ana saw their faces. Bodies lying on the ground. Blood, blood, so much blood. 

    How could she have ever dared to think she could do any good? To make up for the mistakes she’d made in Kirkwall? She’d gone to the Conclave to turn herself in. To face whatever judgement fate meted her. True, Anders had done the crime, but she’d been blind to him, blind to his intentions, blind to the seed of wickedness that had taken root in his heart. Somehow, she thought she could help. That if they could point the finger at her, if they had an enemy, a scapegoat... maybe no one else would have to die. A silly thought. A silly thought for a silly girl, brought to heel, once again, by Corypheus.

    The smoldering flame of her anger flickered to life as the name rolled through her mind again. She grit her teeth, and clenched her left hand as best she could. The Anchor. His grand tool, gifted to her, undoubtedly, by the same twist of fate that had taken her to Conclave in the first place. Perhaps it was just her lot to be thrust into positions where she would cause the most harm. If the Maker was real, if he truly used his influence to sway men and history, his sense of humor was severely lacking.

    Time seemed to stretch on, and on. Had she actually been moving? Was progress being made? Must have been. She had passed a few broken down wagons, a campfire or two, but there was no sign of either her own people, or the hoard of Red Templars they had been running from. 

    Her thoughts had become broken, and disjointed, it was all she could do to follow the debris what what she could only hope was the Inquisition caravan. Up, up, up she climbed, her weariness compounding with every step. It would be easier to give up, to let this be the end. No more fighting, no more losing, no more Hawke.

    But... Corypheus.

    Again, her anger sparked. Deep in her gut, there was a roiling ache, a dissatisfaction that she somehow knew would only subside when his head had been cut clean from his body. He would pay for this. Again. For all of them. It had always been him. Father had been marked, as had she. What might her life have been if that infernal creature had been destroyed, as he should have been, centuries ago? His pestilence had been allowed to fester for too long, and though she might have failed the end him the first time, but she certainly would not fail again.

Continued here.

[lovelyrotter]

i cant believe,,,,,,the perfect ship was under my nose this whole time...,,.

[pornosophical]

deadgodjess replied to your post: it’d help if I weren’t such a fussy bitch about...

I’m gonna point out that you have thrown enough money and resources in my direction that if you wanted me to sensitivity read or just beta read shit for you or whatever you’ve earned it and then some. Also, again, I like having reasons to research things.

I keep meaning to do that, especially with that Hawkequisitor fic, but then I just get so fucking tired

you know the kinda tired. I’m really hoping that finally getting out of this place will give me the reboot I need, but sometimes I worry new stressors will just leave less room

worry worry worry

[emiserable]

If Hawke Had Been The Inquisitor

Gereon Alexius: "You are a mistake, you should never have existed."

Hawke:

[trablie]

Run with me [m!Hawke x f!Inquisitor] GMV

[cullenders]

obviously, purplehawke.

[aimeelouart]

Hawke needs a nap

[fuckyeahvarric]

Chatting next to a nice, cozy fire?

*puts on shipper goggles*

Perfect setting for some flirting.

[that-hawke-woman]

((I would also accept that amazing dress for Hawkequisitor. Perhaps for the formal Orlesian celebrating of the defeat of Corypheus?))

[customrook]

hawkequisitor replied to your post “writing my warden’s origins story and i really like it and im proud of...”

Nonono I'll read it! There are plenty of people still scraping to read more. If everyone thought like you there'd be no new content ever!

omg thank u for this it was actually really inspiring!! im gonna go write now thank

[pornosophical]

okay, time to piss off Carver

like, imagine HIM with a Hawkequisitor. I mean the game would probably turn him into a red templar Hawke has to put down or something but wow way to sidetrack Jacob

anyway, the point is: when Hawke is ‘mourning’ Fenris he needs cheering up and support and that means ensemble and shit I am so faded

[holdtheskeletongrillby]

Inquisitor Hawke overhearing Sera and Bull talk about Sera sitting on Bulls shoulders to improve their fighting effectiveness and demanding to know why he and Varric never tried that. Them trying it and Hawke tripping. Fenris catching Varric and letting his stupid dork land on his face.

[aimeelouart]

Hawkequisitor and the Herald of Chaos

[aimeelouart]

:D