indefinite hiatus.
because of the lack of muse in waylon, i'm placing him on an indefinite hiatus (until i get the muse for him back). in the mean while, you can find me on:
darius trevelyan.
my Destiny oc.

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indefinite hiatus.
because of the lack of muse in waylon, i'm placing him on an indefinite hiatus (until i get the muse for him back). in the mean while, you can find me on:
darius trevelyan.
my Destiny oc.
-- what kind of hero will you be?
apostateslegacy:
“Oh. You didn’t?”
Whether he should believe Trevelyan or not, the Champion’s vigilance slightly dropped; from what he’d head from him until now, he hadn’t been given any good reason to not consider him more appreciable than the average templar.
“I’ll take a wild guess and suggest those are the exact reasons why he told me about you instead of another; perhaps he feared there’d be blood or else otherwise.”
Hawke leant back in his seat, edges of his mouth curling as he followed the other with his eyes.
“If so, he wasn’t wrong. You seem alright so far, Trev—- how should I address you?”
❛-- waylon. i prefer... waylon.❜
it was harsher than he intended, but trevelyan was a name he ( of all the good graces of the maker ) did not like to be addressed as. lips folded into a frown as eyebrows rose, mind going back to a time when he was actually full of PRIDE toward the name. before they thought it best to force him into the templar life. force him into the danger zone of lyrium addiction. if he met his parents right now, he'd gladly punch them in the face. if that stripped him of his rank?
bah, who cares?
❛... lets cut to the chase. are you trying to find friends among the templars? who and who not to trust in this age? it's written across your face.❜
waylon leaned against the wall, brow furrowing. if cullen thought that hawke had any chance of opening his heart -- make him more amiable, then he was wrong. ( it will take far more work than that. )
"Good morning, amatus~"
waylon put ur fucking shirt back on
u can’t tell me what to do duh ham
[looks at the inquisitor] oh no he's hot
oh baby
lookingdashing:
dorian holding the inquisitor’s hand from time to time, staring at the marked one for a long while and just studying it. dorian reading to an inquisitor after they have nightmares to help them fall asleep again. dorian speaking tevene slowly, meaningfully, enunciating every word and then explaining it to the inquisitor. dorian pressed up to the inquisitor late at night, writing declarations of love for his amatus and letters to his father in his head and watching as the anchor slowly grows. dorian accepting that he will one day lose this man. dorian holding him a little tighter.
♛
—— Dear Father Magister Pavus,
When I am with the herald, I am the happiest I have been in quite some time. He is still learning to grow, still learning to learn, and yet he is so smart. So wise. I feel as though I have found my place in this world. When I was younger I would have thought that that place would have been beside you, in succession to our family line, but things have changed. You have changed.
You tried to change me. Waylon doesn’t, and I doubt ever will. I could be wrong.
I do not miss you. This is where I belong.
——Ser Dorian Pavus of Minrathous.
[ cont. ] if you're concerned about comfort, I'm available for a test run. though, judgements might best be reserved until /after/ you're seated for a bit.
Care to inquisit me again, then?
Now, wasn't this a surprise?
He never heard Dorian say that since the first time he did; sultry words reserved only for him. Did he feel special? Yes: who wouldn't? Waylon couldn't help but chuckle as he leaned forward from his seat, a smile on his lips with every intent to follow through with that challenge. Fingers curled around the fabric of Dorian's sleeves, pulling him closer so their foreheads barely touched and lips mere inches from contact.
' -- If you'll take me. '
I heard you have a breach that needs closing. I have just the thing and it's between my legs.
’ -- Wouldn’t your great sword cleave me in two? ‘
I hear you're looking for a new throne, inquisitor, and I'd like to put in my application.
for a good, long second he stared at malani with a stare that rivaled cassandra's. a light frown creased his lips, but he didn't deny that the words weren't smooth. they were.
' -- uh... '
now how many times did they say that back in the blooming rose, with a different choice of words, but same meaning?
hey are you the inquisitor because i'd like to inquisit that ass yeaaaaah son
Silence.
Simple, p u r e silence.