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"And just what have you been up to, hmm?"

He freezes with a grimace as his father’s voice cuts through the darkness of the room. Damn, he thought he was in the clear. “Erm... Helping some of the Lay Sisters clean the Chantry...” It isn’t the truth, but it isn’t necessarily a lie. He had been in the Chantry, and he had been with a Lay Sister... Just not in a way that theMaker or Andraste would approve of.

#v: only a memory #still can't find a good teen fc for him #afxther

@bloodylyrium | @afxther | @fenrirtevi | @chesthair-dontcare | @revolutionarydissent followed the wolf

“I once believed long ago that I could wish upon a star and my dreams will come true. Now I know such things are false.”

#bloodylyrium #afxther #fenrirtevi #chesthairdontcare #revolutionarydissent #archive #greeter #thank you everyone for the follow #or follow back! =3 #you don't have to pick this up at all #welcome to my blog!

@afxther

“ i must admit, ‘pretty’ is something i am not called often. ”

#v: dragon age;#afxther #R U RDY 4 THIS

afxther liked for a starter

These ancient relics were all well and good until they began to exhibit signs that they might be better off turned to scrap metal, melted down, and re-poured into something new; a pity one could not do the same with people when they began to grasp at straws of relevance.

Dorian found Malcolm in the library--not the public one in the rotunda but, rather, the more or less unused one in the bowels of Skyhold. It was a fitting enough place to round on the man, and despite the late hour his steps were purposeful on the flagstones.

“A word, Ser Hawke, if I may.” Dorian didn’t wait for a reply. “Were you perhaps aware that blood magic leaves a very particular mark?”

#afxther #|| a riff on your da:i headcanon #|| do let me know if i need to tweak it

HIM

and it was when she was alone, where leadnra could truly allow herself to drift in thought- most times it ended in agony, reminding herself of what she no longer could call her own.. but dwelling was only a sign of weakness, and she never wanted to be weak again; be strong for her children, be strong for her.

but when it is he- so familiar yet foreign; that she finds amongst the gaggle of villagers, he who seems so........ similar, is when her throat tightens. “ it... no. “

head shakes, she must be wrong, she had seen him die in arm, he was dead... taken from her embrace long gone.. perhaps she was simply seeing a manifestation of all she truly desired? leandra was uncertain.

and yet.. the women finds herself closing distance, lips parted, wide eyes and she HOPES to be wrong she HOPES that this is a mirage- hopes that this is her mind tormenting her.

she’s just

one

step

closer