mien'harel. call for justice.

LOW ACTIVITY | indie canon divergent tabris from dragon age | highly selective and private | occasionally nsfw | read rules before following 

[enjoy-the-life-baby]

[roleplaybaby]

Morning sex with soft touches under the sheets and slow, hot kisses peppering jaw lines and lazy thrusts covered by whispered “I love you“‘s and small gasps

[numin-revas-blog]

E N A S A L I I N

@numin-revas

“Why did you do that?” Asharis was not angry with the young Warden, merely curious to know the thinking behind her decision. They had returned to camp after finding the Urn of Andraste and Asharis had not yet confronted her about her actions. Not until now. “You put that blood into the urn. Why?”

it’s not a surprise to be approached after their latest journey, not given the decision she made. she knows her companions won’t take it well. except perhaps morrigan, but rin never acts out of an attempt to please the human witch. her choice was her own and she doesn’t regret it. 

her gaze is steady when she meets asharis’ eyes, almost challenging her to offer judgement. 

for a beat she considers giving nothing but a short answer, or even ignoring the question altogether. but she respects asharis too much for that. 

a small sigh escapes her and she's silent for a moment. when she speaks, her voice is as steady as her dark eyes, though the bite of anger in her words is sharp and heavy despite the quiet of her tone.

“ their religion is evil. just a way of keeping us down. or mages or dwarves or anyone that’s not like them. those ashes weren’t helping people. and if they’d stayed and word had gotten out what do you think would’ve happened? just another thing for rich shems to control. everyone else be damned. so fuck them and their miracles. “

[resourcesfortheavergaeroleplayer]

Send “✒” and my muse will tell yours the story behind one of their scars.

[theblogcold]

[tryppi]

Manjit Thapp

[oopsprompts]

“You can’t murder people just for being ignorant and obnoxious.”

“Maybe you can’t.”

[transparentsoul]

feed-your-inbox:

Send a word for your muse to find my muse in a certain state.

Mostly angsty stuff, but feel free to add your own.

Tears - Find my muse crying.

Rest - Find my muse sound asleep.

Dream - Find my muse moving in their sleep due to a dream or nightmare.

Bleed - Find my muse injured.

Drink - Find my muse drunk.

Collapse - Find my muse blacked-out on the ground.

Leaving - Find my muse dying.

Grave - Find my muse dead.

Fear - Find my muse panicking about something.

Hide - Find my muse hiding from something or someone.

Anger - Find my muse very angry.

Escape - Find my muse trying to run away from something or someone.

Toxic - Find my muse poisoned.

Bruise - Find my muse badly beaten up. 

Freeze - Find my muse trying to keep warm in the cold.

Battle - Find my muse in the middle of a fight with someone or something.

Saw - Find my muse getting a limb amputated. 

Cough - Find my muse coughing out blood.

[indiespace-blog1]

[minuty]

If flowers can grow through blankets of melting snow, there is hope for me.

Tyler Knott Gregson, Haiku on Love (via minuty)

[xfreischutz]

friendly reminder that zevran,

[macrolit]

Fight till the last gasp.

Henry IV, Part 1, William Shakespeare   (via patrict)

[erionmakuo]

post-trespasser nightingale! i love in-game leliana, but concept leliana makes me want to serenade also i keep imagining leliana played by cate blanchett and ommgg

[mononoowari]

[orbgoddess]

Kiko Mizuhara by Bungo Tsuchiya for Numéro Tokyo

[brokemymeme]

The Devil’s Carnival Sentence Meme

tw suicide, adjust pronouns as needed

Heaven’s All Around ❝ Who did I adjourn? ❞ ❝ Heaven’s all around you. ❞ ❝ I’ll be dreaming pieces of you. ❞ ❝ Cast my reverie back into the sea. ❞ ❝ All my little troubles haven’t got a prayer. ❞ ❝ Underneath my pillow is where it’s meant to be. ❞ ❝ Heaven’s all around you when you haven’t got a care. ❞ ❝ All that I can say, all that I can know, Is that I’ll be dreaming pieces of you. ❞

The Devil’s Carnival ❝ You can’t help but fall. ❞ ❝ Use discretion, stay alert. ❞ ❝ Get your tickets, form a line. ❞ ❝ You’re in the devil’s carnival! ❞ ❝ Come one, come two, come all! ❞ ❝ Welcome to my gates, you gay, and lucky souls. ❞ ❝ Welcome to eternity, now eat your just desserts. ❞ ❝ We’ve got your ordinary sinners and extraordinary ones. ❞ ❝ Keep your hands, and arms, and legs, and head about you at all times. ❞ ❝ Run little blind mice, scurry down the trail. Chop goes the farmer’s knife coming for your tail. ❞ ❝ How they end depend on how you play your part. Unfortunately, how you played your part has got you here. ❞

666 ❝ All 666 rules are policed. ❞ ❝ Each cog is well aligned. ❞ ❝ Breaking rules, it just won’t do ❞ ❝ Our carnival here’s a well-oiled machine. ❞ ❝ It’s my duty to advise you of the ordinance in place. ❞ ❝ There’s a chaos that rests at the heart of this beast. ❞ ❝ As you’ll note, the rules are clearly stated, even illustrated, and enumerated. ❞ ❝ As keeper, it’s my humble pleasure to first castigate and then admonish you. ❞ ❝ There are consequences, morbid consequences, crueler than ever imagined. ❞ ❝ There are consequences, bloody consequences when you don’t follow the rules. ❞

Kiss The Girls ❝ Kiss the girls! ❞ ❝ Where are the bees? ❞   ❝ Missed me, missed me, now you have to kiss the girls! ❞ ❝ One for the priest, two for the dame, three for the sweet little boy lost in the rain. ❞

Beautiful Stranger ❝ Let’s burn one another. ❞ ❝ Now, let’s play a game. ❞ ❝ Don’t pussyfoot. Shoot! ❞ ❝ My, what a strange duet. ❞ ❝ Hello, Beautiful Stranger. ❞ ❝ It’s the shadow’s domain. ❞ ❝ Shadow takes all, my pet. ❞ ❝ Three chances to claim her. ❞ ❝ Three clicks in the chamber. ❞ ❝ You’re my beautiful stranger. ❞ ❝ We’re like moths to the flame. ❞ ❝ The knife in my back, it reminds me of you. ❞ ❝ I could say that I’m hurt but it wouldn’t be true. ❞ ❝ How familiar the danger, slipping into the shadows. ❞ ❝ High stakes, three shakes, no breaks. Triple the wager. ❞ 

A Penny For A Tale ❝ God rest her soul. ❞ ❝ Bleed for a sinner. ❞ ❝ She’d kill for a bite. ❞ ❝ A penny for a tale? ❞ ❝ I just might well up. ❞ ❝ Oh, how they teased. ❞ ❝ These are difficult times. ❞ ❝ Lord, that greed, it’ll kill you. ❞ ❝ Thank you, sirs, you’re too kind. ❞ ❝ I just need a few pennies more! ❞ ❝ Lord, go on, pass the hat, will you? ❞ ❝ A penny for an old beggarman’s story. ❞ ❝ I heard from a birdy it doesn’t end purdy. ❞ ❝ It doesn’t end well. No, it never ends well. ❞ ❝ Your purse strings are tight. Bleed for a sinner. ❞ ❝ Lord, would it not be a sin for you to deny yourselves a tale? ❞ ❝ I’ll continue my rhyme for a dime or a penny is fine, these are difficult times. ❞ ❝ Let me tell you a tale for a penny, one that you can not hear anywhere else. ❞

Trust Me ❝ I’m so sincere. ❞ ❝ Don’t cry, crybaby. ❞ ❝ So trust me, Darling Dear. ❞ ❝ Trust me, just like I trust you. ❞ ❝ You know you never can hide. ❞ ❝ Oh, I was knocked to the floor. ❞ ❝ How many kisses do you need? ❞ ❝ You’re a tough little tadpole to love. ❞ ❝ Babe, you’re a hard game to catch. ❞ ❝ You’re a bad little love and I’m yours. ❞ ❝ I’m so sincere, there’s no need to tear. ❞ ❝ You’re a bad little love and you’re mine. ❞ ❝ You’re an urge that can never be cured. ❞ ❝ Never tasted as sweet a poison as you have. ❞ ❝ One for your tummy, one for your cheek, one for the devil inside of me. ❞ 

The Scorpion’s Tale ❝ True love can break the spell. ❞ ❝ Come, drink a cup of my scorn! ❞ ❝ Remember that you were warned. ❞ ❝ In their name, let’s drink to true love. ❞ ❝ She pondered if his love was poison. ❞ ❝ Love, it is foolish and green, my love. ❞ ❝ He pricked her so gently she swooned. ❞ ❝ What bitter yet delicious wine, my love. ❞ ❝ How quickly we forget the sting, my love. ❞ ❝ Let me tell you a tale of a love that did fail. ❞ ❝ What a pretty and dangerous line, my love. ❞ ❝ His words poured like wine as their fates intertwined. ❞ ❝ Take heed of the thorns, don’t scream when it stings. ❞ 

Grief ❝ Where is your little son lost? ❞ ❝ Drown in your beautiful grief. ❞ ❝ Where will your little son sleep? ❞ ❝ Who, then, will tend to the sheep? ❞ ❝ Let me open my teeth and cradle you there. ❞ ❝ Dark are the strangers that sleep on the train. ❞ ❝ Two little hands push the chair from your feet. ❞ ❝ You’re drowning in the grief of Jupiter’s water. ❞ ❝ Orphaned by Heaven where no child is spared. ❞ ❝ There’s a bed for the boy and rope for the father. ❞ ❝ There’s blood on their cots and bones on their plates. ❞ ❝ There’s a bed for the boy and rope for the father, both orphaned by Heaven where no child is spared. ❞

Grace For Sale ❝ It’s off to hell we go. ❞ ❝ Hark, the angels’ wail. ❞ ❝ A sheep has left the fold. ❞ ❝ We’ve got grace for sale. ❞ ❝ We’ve got grace for cheap. ❞ ❝ Count your missing sheep. ❞ ❝ Tongues slither in the mud. ❞ ❝ Fa la la, it’s off to hell we go. ❞ ❝ My fairest wheels are turning. ❞ ❝ Tongues slither in the psalms. ❞ ❝ Cross your heart and hope to die. ❞ ❝ That’s how a carnival grows, my son. ❞ ❝ Spread my filth, my wings, my weeds. ❞ ❝ Plant my hooves, my hooks, my books. ❞ ❝ Lay you down to sleep with wicked little stories. ❞ ❝ I raise my hell, my cane, my stakes, my snakes. ❞ ❝ Cast out for your sin? Come here for redemption. ❞

In All My Dreams I Drown ❝ He said, ‘Now hush, love.’ ❞ ❝ In all my dreams I drown. ❞ ❝ I’m begging you, please wake me up. ❞ ❝ Scold me, hold me, I’ll be yours to keep. ❞ ❝ You haven’t slept in many suns and moons. ❞ ❝ I closed my eyes as the ship was rent and felled. ❞ ❝ I don’t want to go to sleep, in all my dreams I drown. ❞ ❝ The only thing I beg of you, don’t make me go to sleep. ❞ ❝ The curtains ran between my legs as we began to sink. ❞ ❝ A storm is brewing in the South. It’s time you go to sleep. ❞ ❝ Oh, I will sleep when we reach shore and pray we get there soon. ❞ ❝ Like Jonah, we’ll be swallowed whole and spat back teeth and bones. ❞ ❝ Hush, now, hush, love. Here’s your gown, there’s the bed, lanterns down. ❞

[llliiillliiilll]

“On our first date I’ll carve our initials into a tree. It’s the most romantic way to prove to you I have a knife”

— Ares to Aphrodite

[numin-revas-blog]

R Ó I S Í N . 

The night is freezing, or at least it’s colder than what Róisín is used to, having spent close to three decades in the northern Free Marches. In Haven it snows constantly but it’s not something that oft concerns her — she spends the majority of her time in her quarters or in the Chantry, seeking out the warmth of fires. Even just the concept of sleeping with a solid roof over her head leaves her feeling odd, though, never mind actually doing so, so Róisín treasures the time she has in the field, even if she is shivering. 

After having spoken to her, Cassandra had instructed the agents to double up when keeping watch, both women wary of what Alexius might do if his spies — which he has, there’s no doubt — come across their camp. It also means that those who are accompanying Róisín to the castle will be well-rested for the ‘morrow, which is imperative if they’re to win a fight against a Magister capable of something that can only be considered time magic. 

She wants to see him burn.

“Aneth ara, Rin,” Róisín says softly, looking over at the Warden with a smile. “Of course I did; I want you here. His death hardly holds same weight to the others as it does for us.” A slight furrow appears on her brow and she breaks eye contact, her gaze shifting to the flames. “Forgive me for asking, but… I find myself curious. Where were you, before this? Before joining us? Leliana seemed to be convinced that you were gone, but then you weren’t, and I have heard talk of making you Inquisitor.”

Rin is used to cold nights. The alienage had none of the comforts offered to the humans of Denerim; even many of the poorer shems had some sort of heating in their homes. But the elves made do with a large fire in the center of town for nights spent in a circle, dancing away the cold that numbed fingers and toes and drinking to fight off chill. Celebration warmed their spirits and their bodies. 

Then it was just her and many shems gathered around a camp fire on the road, enduring the frigid nights of Ferelden with no comfort of family. Somehow this, sitting by a small fire with Róisín the only one at her side, feels so much warmer. 

Rin offers a smile in turn. It’s something rare to see, though not as rare as it once was, “It will be good to know you’re safe. Well, at least from this Magister.” She gives a slight laugh, shaking her head, knowing all too well the dangers that lay before them and the dangers that lay in holding a title such as ‘Herald’. 

The question has her lips pressing together, a short sigh making it’s way up from a tight knot in her chest, “I was... searching. Though every thread I followed had a chewed off end. For now this is more important.” 

Mention of making her Inquisitor sours her expression. She doesn’t respond at first, just picks up some of the sticks piled beside her and snaps them, adding them to the flames. The fire grows and dances, illuminating eyes tight around the edges, full of an old hurt and a deep exhaustion. When she speaks, her voice is taught with anger “I am done leading shems and waiting for their knife in my back.” She seems ready to continue, but then her eyes close and a soft, long breath spills from her, taking off the edge of tension across her shoulders. 

After a moment, she lifts her gaze to meet Róisín’s once more, “I’m sorry.” There’s a weight to her words, the apology for more than snapping. She’s sorry for what awaits Róisín, “I don’t want to leave this burden for you, but I just... I can’t, Róisín. I can’t do this again.” She wonders briefly what the woman must think of her. Years in the past she would have taken up the mantel to spare any other elf the pain of it, but now she is too tired, too worn away. She knows they will make Róisín Inquisitor. It’s the only thing that makes sense, and Rin is so deeply sorry for that, but she would crumble under the weight of it if she took the title instead. It’s why Leliana never asked her to come.