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they should concede to call you Ares | s.m. (via vigoare)

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ghost is what they call you; soldier weapon asset–entropy is what you are; volatile disorder chaos
they should concede to call you Ares | s.m. (via vigoare)
You look after yourself dear, your health comes first x
anon, you are a blessing & i hope you have a wonderful day. thank you very much for the reminder.
I've been having some really bad mental health problems, but as soon as they calm down enough for me to focus, I'll be back to work on this blog.
“Don’t put your trust in revolutions. They always come around again. That’s why they’re called revolutions. People die, and nothing changes.”
– (Terry Pratchett, Night Watch)
So I saw this post and I drew a thing
Only a few days in Kirkwall, and the city had already grown on the magister. It wasn’t the rattling of chains within the Gallows, or the leering eyes of the Templars, nor the engravements of battered slaves holding up the foundations of Kirkwall that kept him – by all means, that in and of itself should have scared the former slave away. Instead, the integrity of the people whom lived here made him stay. Their ways were almost entirely new to him, but being amongst the Fereldans and Free Marchers brought back bittersweet memories of his home, his true home. He couldn’t say the city felt new to him. In fact, it felt like a return to a home he never knew he had.
Everything about Hightown was what one would expect of an upper class portion of town. The people dressed in extravagant clothes, bright and colorful, a stark difference from the somber and intimidating dress of the Tevinter upper class. His first stop was, of course, at the jewelry stands, easily getting sucked into discussing the work that went into each piece with a vendor, asking about the metals and precious stones. Valeriu would have bought out his stock, but he already had a rather ridiculous collection of gold jewelry from back home, that he was guarding like a dragon. Besides, the funds he stole from his mentor, Altinus, would only last so long.
The elf was about to make his way to the weapons, when a all too familiar voice caught his ear, gravelly and deep. His long ears swiveled around before he did, as if his mind was deceiving him. Immediately after, Valeriu turned, both overjoyed and shocked to see Fenris before him. Overjoyed that the fugitive managed to make it safely out of the Imperium, and shocked, perhaps worried, to see him in this place. Years had passed, but the threat of Danarius was still very real. Even a month before Vali left, Danarius’ bitter lose over his treasured lyrium guard rang true throughout the Imperial court, and then it went silent. Which was never a good sign. “—Fenris?” He said, dumbfounded, before smiling and making his way out of the crowd, half tempted to throw his arms around the elf and squeeze him tightly, out of congratulations of how far Fenris got. Before he was given pause, after gazing upon his expression and terse stance. “It’s a small world, isn’t it?”
“I...” What should he say? Well, he knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to thank him for giving Fenris a chance at freedom; even if it had been tiring and painful and he had wanted to give up many, many times, he didn’t. There were words on the tip of his tongue, but they wouldn’t come out. A surge of anger was so normal whenever his past came back to haunt him, he didn’t think that it was possible to feel... relief? Relief that even as time passed, Now, he could stand here facing someone from the Imperium, and he wasn’t brimming with uncontrollable rage. Valeriu was still paving his own path, and he felt relief that, for once, it seemed like the world wasn’t entirely out to get him. Still, it proved to be difficult to decide on what he wanted to say first. Fenris lifted a hand to his mouth, coughing lightly.
The elf averted his gaze, watching the people lazing about in the streets. It was easier to watch someone else when they weren’t looking at you. He couldn’t quite reach a total nondescript presence — his appearance was anything but nondescript — . “Yes, I suppose it is smaller than you would think. Why are you in Kirkwall?” ‘Twas better to ask sooner rather than later, and he couldn’t deny his curiosity in any regard. This city would not have been his first choice for a semi-permanent residence. Life was funny that way. He made small gestures to their surroundings before continuing, “The spikes, chains, and history of bloodshed and oppression are considered rather unwelcoming to tourists. It’s quite the surprise to realise.” Ah, and there it was, that single humorous bone in him.
One more thing had to be said, though. His eyes lowered, lifting a single hand in a vague ‘waving’ motion before speaking. Some conversational customs still escaped him; things were bound to be shoehorned in the middle of other conversations when he didn’t know when else to say them. This seemed like as good a time as any. If Vali was about to speak, Fenris cut him off as he said, “—thank you. For helping me back then.” Most definitely a little awkward.
“Why’re you asking? Thinking about taking a quick dip in it?”
Displeased grunting noise. “No.”
the beauty of a secret - a fenbela playlist
a playlist for an escaped tevinter slave and the self proclaimed “queen of the eastern seas” who find a new meaning to freedom
art: x
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What do you have against mages?
There's a pause in their actions as she presses her forehead to his. Others view Isabela as someone who doesn't have a tender bone in her body, but Fenris knows otherwise. Her fingers run over his neck, feathering the lyrium brand from his shoulders down to the small of his back. She moves her hand, briefly brushing the back of his fingers.
affection meme.
Forehead to Forehead: I’m here / understand.Touching the Neck / Shoulders: I want you to feel good.Touching Fingers: I want to speak, but lack the words.
The tenderness – he doesn’t expect it from Isabela. It isn’t from disbelief or misunderstanding her; he, perhaps more than most people, is acutely aware of how tender she can be. It simply… is not the treatment he’s used to from her. They know each other’s limits intimately, and they take each other to them ( in many ways ).
She rarely slows down her pace. He wouldn’t change it about her; it’s just who she is. If anyone would slow things down and show a little weakness, it’s almost always him. But her affections aren’t unwelcome. It’s the opposite, by a long shot – he will take them for as long as she’s willing to give them. He’d like to think that, and it makes him wonder…
It’s wrong, though; she doesn’t do feelings or “love”. Assuming she’d ever change her policy is silly, no matter how soft she might become around the right people. She was still the same old raucous and risque Isabela. She hadn’t changed, and neither would her feelings. So he tenses at her touch and turns his head, silent.
They were friends. That was it.
Sullen Pirate AU, Fenris.
how to be a monster: 1. learn the taste of dirt and pain. 2. teach it to others till your knuckles bleed. 3. see if that makes it easier to breathe.
rinse and repeat, Amrita C. (via sunrisesongs)
a warmup doodle of the bf
@magechampion.
“Does your pool of sarcasm ever run dry?”
@vigoare.
Fenris scarcely trekked far from his home, and this was no secret. His journeys outside were far and few in the first place; for the most part, they were only brief escapades to steal a needed item or two, and perhaps food, but nothing more. It was a carefully maintained presence, but there were bound to be people who knew of him in Kirkwall. He didn’t expect to see people who knew him from out of Kirkwall.
Standing there by merchant stands, there was no mistaking it. (He supposed he had an aptitude for recognizing a person’s features, even as the years passed.) His shoulders tensed, jaw clenching, and he quickly ducked into an alley nearby. It was out of the way without hindering his ability to keep an eye on the man.
He didn't know how long he waited in the shadows, but he did notice when the other finally began moving from the setup of stands. Straightening himself up, Fenris glanced around to evaluate the crowd before making his way over. It was a silly impulse, and a part of him knew he should be treating any part of his past with caution. And yet...
"-- Valeriu." Did he regret calling attention to himself? Perhaps it didn’t matter; he couldn’t take the name back once it’d been said.
psa; i am not above completely rewriting a reply. if my reply takes our thread in a direction u dont want it to go in, or if u just can’t work with it, or if you just want a few details changed, please tell me and i will rewrite it or edit it so it works for you. i will not be hurt or offended, i will be happy ur comfortable enough w me as a partner to say something.
do not try to fix me. i am not broken. i am scarred and bent. i do not need to be fixed. i need to be treated like a human, not a project. i have not made it through my suffering to become an outlet for your desires to make something “good” again.
do not touch me with trembling hands and tell me that i will feel better in the morning this beast has been with me longer than you have (via grieverx)
AFFECTION MEME
Send one of these from your muse to mine, or send me a ➥ for their affections toward yours. Created by @taka-yee, reposted with their permission!
Fingers in Hair: I will treasure you. Hand on the Head: I think about you a lot. Kiss / Touch to Ear: I forgive / forgave you. Forehead to Forehead: I’m here / understand. Kiss on or around Eye: I don’t want you to be sad. Hesitant Touch: You’ve hurt me / I still care for you. Boop on the Nose: You’re adorable / make me happy. Kiss on the Cheek / Mouth: I love you / I’ve missed you. Touching the Chin: I want honesty / things to work out. Mouth on or near Neck: I want you / want to be with you. Touching the Neck / Shoulders: I want you to feel good. Leaning on Shoulder: I need you / your support right now. Kiss / Hand / Touch over Heart: I want your understanding. Kiss on the Wrist / Palm: I feel deeply connected to you. Holding Hands: I want to be reminded of your presence. Touching Fingers: I want to speak, but lack the words. Arm around Waist: I want you to be careful / feel safe. Touch on / Kiss to the Ribs: I regard you reverently. Hand on Lower Back: I’ll be by your side no matter. Hands on or near Hips: I feel possessive of you. Touch to Thigh: I want something more with you. Head on Lap: I trust you / feel safe with you. Hand on Knee: I am concerned for you. Other: Fill in what your muse does / feels!