SAPPHIRE EYES.

Private and Selective Hero of Ferelden Penned by Void 21+

[magusanima]

And amidst deepest darkness, a light as gentle as the moon and stars above...

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Indie, Selective and Private Elf Mage Origin Hero of Ferelden of the Dragon Age series, with verses in Final Fantasy XIV, Modern and Medieval Fantasy, Assassin's Creed and More! Penned by Void. 21+. In this hellscape since 2014! Carrd | Memes | Worldstate

Blogroll: @bardicchord (multi)

♡Traveling with:| @onceawake | @fevyrroot / @calenheir | @blightever | @haludh / @4educan | @kenostaph | @heliosphage | @astraldestiny

[magusanima]

okay....thats a couple replies slapped down...ik what im replying to tomorrow....I WANNA DO THEM RN BUT I AM SO...EEPY...so. kissing u all on ur foreheads...on the morrow...i shall see u...

[magusanima]

@halfgigas has written: [ BATTLE ] unsure about their survival, sender and receiver see each other across the battle field, and race into a tight, giddy embrace with each other. 

It had been a worrisome thing, watching pavilion after pavilion be torn down, packed away and settled onto cart and horse as the sers and lords made for their departure from Ashford Meadows. And yet, Behni had not spotted the knight he’d sworn his blade to. How hard could it have been? The man near towered over most of the tents being broken, and he had already bothered to visit the Maester’s cots. To no avail…Seven take him if he had lost his life after all, if not to injuries then to some unruly bastard who hadn’t favored such a turn of events. Just because the princes had kept to their word and spared his life hadn’t meant he was out of the worst of it. And if Prince Baelor could die with victory in their hands then…

He really musn’t think of such terrible things. Not when so many yet lived. The Fossaway boy had his hopes, at the very least, even if his smile belied that very same worry he carried in himself. Right, how good of a knight could one be if the first cause you swear yourself to fails so miserably? 

He is fidgeting as he stands amongst the bustling yard, miserable and directionless. A hand brushes against his sleeve, and he sighs to himself, recalling the gift he’d tucked away. He’d hoped to present it to the hedge knight, as a sort of…light poking through the bower. Now it seemed so ridiculous. Even if he had received it…

The thought leaves him as soon as his stormy eyes land on the other’s staggering form, and perhaps he acts first before he thinks (which he likes to think is a rare thing, despite his ever bleeding heart) when he rushes over to Ser Duncan, barely allowing the call of his name to reach his ears before Behni’s arms are around him in haste. It is a lucky thing the half-giant boasts such size, for any smaller man might have crumbled at the impact. But it is a raw and breathless thing the sharp-eared, fledgling knight greets him with; something surely to kick himself about later but for now…he is relieved. 

“I’d heard word that you were as good as dead, but it’s good to see the gentle giant yet lives~” there was something of a choked laugh that left him, as he gave the other enough space to look him in the eyes. “Can I call you that even now though? You hauled that blighter of a prince around at the end of it all as if he were fresh venison for the butcher..!”

[magusanima]

@haludh has written: a kiss on the forehead. <3

She is lucky to get away with such a thing, that winsome Inquisitor. If anyone else were to threaten the Warden-Commander with standing on their tiptoes to give him a peck, he would be giving them a huff in response. But it is Lanaya, and that foxlike grin she leaves him with after her honey-warmth blesses his skin is poetic. He feels her fingers slowly brush through his waves until they settle back against his forehead. She is in a good mood today, it seems, and what a lovely thing to be greeted with; her emerald eyes seem to glow all the more because of it, and not just due to her mark.

“You seem rather chipper for so chilly a morning. Might I ask what it is that has you grinning like a girl who just stole an extra sweet roll from the kitchens?” Not that the answer mattered, he was charmed by her presence nonetheless, and he cannot help but take her hands up in his. It is truly moments like these where the breach in the sky and the taint in his blood are forgotten, and they can simply…be.

[magusanima]

sliding my knee brace on...writing time..

[heliosphage]

Atta boy, Grace. Where are his jeans? He's already extricating himself from his messy but otherwise delightfully tempting cocoon of his adequately-cooled-by-the-autumn-night-bedsheets. And, yeah, it's true: most of the time, Banks can trust him to accept a late-night offer to satiate their hunger stoked by the monstrous cocktail of youth and finals, but... This time around, he really is knackered!

[ Ben ]: you could. you have this thing called free will, and you are again criminally under utilizing it. live large! [ Ben ]: and neither. there's actually this late night diner i've been meaning to take you to. they have midnight churros i can be reasonably coaxed into sharing

—but knackered or not, it feels imperative, cosmically necessary, ordained perhaps by the higher Milky Way Gods, that Grace buckle the fuck in and join him anyway. Besides, Banks has not so subtly been dropping hints that, yes, Ryland, I do notice you withdrawing, tunneling into nigh on hermithood, and if you think I'm gonna let you fade into the dormitory shadows, then (Grace feels he's gummying), you've another thing coming.

[ Ben ]: ha. ha. alright, spirit halloween gandalf. but i'm always craving a cheap and delicious burger. you don't need magic to know that

His jeans are on. He could say how do you know the exact moment to get me out of my head? Or even how do you always know what I specifically need at very particular times? But the answers that come up always feel a little too close to home, and... Uh. When was the last time he did close?

What a scary thought. Shuddering, Grace walks out to shuffle to the sidewalk in the balmy 67 degree weather.

[ Ben ]: idk why i put up with you. do you make fun of all your other late-night fast-foody calls, or is that just me?

Heh. Get it? Anyway, why's Grace his go-to? Ben has plural friends.

[magusanima]

It feels…routine, to pull into his dorm’s lot after all the times he’d made his way over. He hadn’t minded, being the one to drive. The wheel kept him from fidgeting, the seat was positioned in just the way he liked it. No one had to tell him otherwise if the comfort of his car was weird because it was his. And…you know, he’d put those cheap, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling because he’d thought it was cute, and relaxing when the day called for a car nap. 

It was comfortable. He didn’t get a whole lot of comfort otherwise. It was probably why he sought out these late night escapades so much. Ryland said a lot of things that would come off as bitterly honest to a lot of people, but he preferred that to…other people, even those considered friends who lied just to be nice. He didn’t need nice, he wanted to know how people really felt. What was the point of going through life if you weren’t true to those close to you? Why torture yourself? He had his walls, and there was a distance, but he felt lucky to be as close in that distance as possible. 

He chanced the little moment before contact to check his phone, shaking his head at the little jab about his jests, before something of a snort comes from him at the food pun. Foody call. He’s funny. He makes him laugh. He can’t ask for more. Sure, he has other friends, but they don’t get him to relax his bones the same way you do. And he’ll tell you that in relaxed body language and acts of service but never with actual words. 

He puts his ride into a full stop as he spots his midnight accomplice, arming himself with a smug grin as he rolls down those tinted windows. “Remind me to take you to a proper ren faire one of these days. You’ll rethink the Spirit Halloween comment~” Not that it was the worst place to buy a costume, but c’mon…he was craftier than that! Carefully, he leans over to shove open the passenger side door, before shuffling back into his own side and peering out the windshield to the dorms above. So many lights on…and…he could hear distant music. He supposed some people preferred to drown themselves in celebration before semester’s hammer came down to squish them. Weren’t they doing that in their own way? Keeping their minds off of things, even for a little bit? 

“And bold of you to assume I’m seeing other foodies~” He leans against the wheel, head in his hands as he flashes the other a charming smile. “I didn’t take you for the jealous type, Ryland Grace! Why, I’d never think to cheat on my trusty companion for some common fast food whore…” Idk why I put up with you indeed, Ryland Grace. He didn’t understand why you did either. But you showed up, and that was enough. He laughs at his own joke, before settling back into his seat, not wanting to drive him completely up the wall with his theatrics. “So where are we headed then?”

[magusanima]

I’m home heading from work for the weekend. I hope you guys are prepared for my gay ass 🫵🏻

[magusanima]

Behni’s comfort movie is the Labyrinth btw☝🏽 in case anyone was wondering

[punk-sharkz-zero]

guy who says "FUCK!" to every minor inconvenience x guy who says "oopsie daisies" to earth shattering catastrophes

[meethammer]

Of course someone always has eyes on him. That is the shape that concern takes. Concern follows like exhaustion is wont to, like exhaustion that'd cling like a night of bad sleep, a month of hard work, or a lifetime of running. It follows like the shadows beneath those eyes or like the trail of not-his names that he would give like a stand-in. Concern isn't gentle, or at least not always. Driver looks. He knows, he knows, knows, because his sleep's bad, too.

Worry makes his brain turn. Let me see it. Let me help you.

Driver stands there at the front of apartment number 682, and out the window, rain is expected to spit until the morning, an effort by the city to turn rush hour biblical. He is dirty. He's wearing stray streaks of motor oil that cling, still, to the divot where his pulse is still juttering like mothwings. If Benjamin squints, they could look like bruises, too, could make him look as dangerous and as well-practiced of a liar. Driver looks to where he's bothering with his keyring and considers his next twelve steps before taking five.

"You're bleeding, too," he says. He's unconvinced. He doesn't say it. He's at the door of apartment number 683 now, and his voice is as soft as a down scrubbed with Bounty. "I can look at it. It's at the back of your elbow. You might need corner guards."

[magusanima]

He notices a lot of things, this neighbor of so few words. Maybe it's the lack of yapping that helps, but damn...it's as if he sniffs him out like a wolf. Most people wouldn't notice these things. The few that did made their assumptions or listened to his lies and moved on with their days. Come on, Banks. It's fine. Just ease into the conversation and show the dog your well-meaning, open hand. "Damn, you might be right...perhaps I'll take it up with the board then~ Your sharp corners are going to take someone's eyes out one day~" Something of an innocent laugh escapes him, before it just as quickly fades. The tease isn't very funny, but when you're the only one making any noise, it's hard to keep it going without thinking you've offended someone. He takes the silence to regard his offer. He's trying to help. Just let him help. You don't need to tell him your life story, he seems...entirely earnest. Just look at those eyes.

He glances to the grocery bags he'd lugged up on his own; something carried out before his injuries could soak through the fabric of a (very nice, by the way) coat. Or if it had, the nice grocers hadn't said anything. Why would they? None of them got paid enough.

How long had they been neighbors for? It wasn't as if he socialized on the regular. Not outside of work, anyways, and definitely not inside of other work. Maybe crossing that threshold wouldn't be terrible...he'd had worse people in his apartment. "...could you carry some of these in for me then? There's leftovers in it for you if you're into that sort of thing. I'd...cook, but it's been quite the day."

[magusanima]

can i hand u guys some modern behni...benny, even,

[magusanima]

If I’ve learned anything about behni in my year of writing him here, it’s that he’s great for giving men their bisexual awakening and also their first prostate centered orgasm

[magusanima]

@meethammer has written: Driver looks at it like a Rorschach test, like something personally offensive. Like a failure. "Where did you get that?" That bruise mocks him.

Damn. He'd almost made it into his apartment, almost came up scott-free, but someone always had to have eyes on him. Even in the comfort of his own apartment complex. This...this wasn't a threat though, not against him, anyways, not with the way the other was eyeing him. He almost felt guilty making the other worry. I can handle myself, really, if you knew the truth of it. This time was a bust, next time might not be. And anyways, the bruise you see is only the start of it. Take off my shirt and you might see more. But you won't, you're nice. Considerate, that's why you're asking.

His fingers hesitate over the door knob in front of him, before he sighs. Sure, he can have a little bit of this conversation, if it meant drying the sad boy's eyes. "Oh, this?" His arm retracts, and he holds it up for the other to see. "Just a work thing. Bumped it on a shelf after some kid thought it'd be funny to sneak up and spook the working librarian. Didn't think it would turn up so bad but...I suppose when enough force comes down..." Right, you would know that. Books could drop enough force to crush a man's skull and you're here teasing about a bruise.

[ophelie-trichereau]

“Madeleine Silarjuangat” This is the last large solar system I made. I created it for a custom order so I personalised it with my client who offered it to his wife for her birthday last year ♥️ This embroidery is called “Madeleine Silarjuangat”, which means “Madeleine’s world” in Inuit. My client lives in Canada, he wanted to name his embroidery after his wife, the Inuit language has a rich history of stars and legends about life above. Thank you again Kirt! I hope to have more opportunities like this to create more unique and custom orders, it is always very interesting and challenging for me to have to work directly for a client. “Madeleine Silarjuangat” Hand embroidery. Unique piece. Custom order. 32 cm diameter. DMC embroidery thread, cannetille, Swarovski crystal beads, 24kt gold-plated beads, stone beads and glass beads on linen. Wooden frame. https://www.etsy.com/fr/shop/OphelieTrichereau I take custom orders. #embroidery #broderie #planets #solarsystem #universe #scienceart #spaceart #embroiderer #theearth #thesun #sun #mars #jupiter #saturn #cosmosartwork #handembroidery #ophelietrichereau #solarsystemembroidery #sunartwork #soleilart #planetembroidery #universeartwork #astronomyart #dmcembroidery #astroembroidery #astronomylovers #spaceembroidery #cosmicart #outerspaceart #galaxyembroidery

[theatricuddles]

[ID: An embroidery hoop of circles forming a solar system, with a large sun, various planets, and some beads to represent stars.]

[magusanima]

@inevitableking has written: [ OPEN ] - seeing receiver, sender opens their arms out to them for a hopeful embrace.

The talk in the hall had faded long before the newly appointed ‘Hero of Ferelden’ had been alone. Once you showered someone with congratulations and plans for the future, you realized you hadn’t truly gotten to know one another, and things grew awkward. Why pry more into a hero when there’s not heroics to be found? So, he had taken to wandering the Royal Palace’s halls, attempting to think on those plans he had been so prodded about. There was his offer to Zevran, of course…but that came when they would depart the city together. How would he spend the next few weeks? There seemed to be a dozen celebrations that the hosts had wanted to see their hero make an appearance at, but the thought alone exhausted him…

…perhaps he would visit the alienage, he’d still had that letter to deliver, anyhow…one might as well bite the iron and get it out of the way. But he…hadn’t been sure he could do it alone. 

His trail of thought is brought to an abrupt stopping point as he hears footsteps about to intersect his own, and he holds his pacing. There is a sigh of relief however, as he meets the familiar gaze of his oldest companion, who seems all too pleased to have spotted him as well. There is a relaxation that eases both of them, as if they can temporarily shelve any formalities they might have had with someone else. What’s more, Alistair is hoping for an embrace in return. It had been quite some time since the ceremony that that’d run into each other (endless halls and all), he was perhaps, overdue for some form of friendly affection (and if he was going to be entirely honest, he was too…one could only get so far with professional handshakes and empty smiles).

Just as they’d done so a hundred times before, Behni slips into his arms, thankful that he’d finally peeled himself out of that stately armor and instead thought to garb himself (or, perhaps someone else had to peel him out, now that he thought about it) in less pointy leathers. “Tis good to see you haven’t collapsed from all the stately addresses.” He teased, a genuine grin threatening to tug at his lips for the first time in what felt like days. “Though I can’t imagine you’re sneaking around the halls for any sort of kingly purpose…how are you holding up, truly?”

[magusanima]

I always think it would be hilarious if I used my librarian powers to recommend you guys books..........

[magusanima]

going to the bookstore! Y'all want anything!!!!