#blodrikir

[soldottiir-a]

“ I don’t like Orlesian parties. “ Muttered the Dragonborn, as she tugged at the sleeve of her dress, for what had to be the hundredth time that evening. She was lucky Josephine wasn’t around, or she’d be tutting and smacking her hands again. “ The dressing up part of the parties ? I enjoy that, the gowns are beautiful, but the dancing is too stiff, the music isn’t lively and the alcohol taste like piss ! “ 

Even Imperials had more lively parties than this ! And honestly, she would like to enjoy a party where she didn’t have to worry about getting murdered. According to Josephine, that was all part of the game, no one batted an eye when someone was murdered at a party. “ I want to be back at Skyhold. “ No, she is NOT whining. The Dragonborn doesn’t whine !

@blodrikir​  ❤ ‘d for a starter ( for Gideon ! )

[halrhjarta]

         @blodrikir​ /// ‘you know i have feelings for you.’ - kol

         THE passing wind takes with it every whisp of breath in her. It rises over the hills, throughout the trees where they sit, and into the aether where Kyne dwells. The emptiness, borne of his confession, claws at her guts and takes a painful hold of her heart. It’s nothing of a revelation, however. Truly, she had known since they were children. It became both a hope and a fear that someone would love her someday. She had decided it would come in her own time, when it would no longer complicate her path. But he cared not for this, even knowing her as well as he did. The great Black Bear, brought low without a single blow from the shield-maiden. His shield-maiden.

She shies away from where Kolbjörn rests, his figure more imposing than ever before. Weakness raises her ire, feeling even more sickened by it.     “No.” She chokes, but commanding all the same. “No. No, you do not. You should not. Stupid bear.” With this feeble denial, the shield-maiden rises from the brushes of their encampment. Every drop of blood in her body screams for her to be away from him, to run until she feels neither love nor hatred, only to be rid of the feelings he has thrust upon her by admitting his own. 

[chainsxwsmile]

Happy Birthday, @blodrikir !!!!! You were so welcoming and kind to me in the Tolkien fandom, and I just hope you had a wonderful and relaxing birthday! Here’s a little Lysanna picture, drawn in prismacolor markers, watercolor pencil, micron pens, and photoshop!

[soldottiir-a]

“ Son of a bitch ! “ She hissed, pressing her thumb between her lips. Blood dripped from the cut, staining her teeth and leaving a metallic taste in her mouth. She just wanted to sharpen her knife and now she’s sliced her thumb open. Perhaps that’s what she gets for getting lost in her own head while sharpening her weapon. 

“ Son of a fucking bitch ... “ She grumbled, dropping the knife onto the table and grabbing the nearby cloth, wrapping it around her thumb. At least she’s alone, Josephine would probably have a heart attack hearing her curse over and over. Or at least, she thought she was alone.

Starter Call | @blodrikir (Tristan)

[dreadwxlf]

@blodrikir​

~{Thank you!!}~

[shirebxrn]

@blodrikir​ liked for a starter from a primary verse

Sometimes, when the nightmares gripped his heart too tightly, and the visceral fear of reliving the chaos of battle had him jerking out of bed with strangled yells and a pounding heart, poor Bilbo found himself awake and haunted and terrified to lay his head back down on his pillow. The best solution, Bilbo had found, was to engage in busywork. Keep his hands engaged, keep his mind off of the stench of death and the screams of the dying. Today was one such a day: he’d been in his garden since before dawn, letting the sensation of rich dirt beneath his fingers remind him that he was safe.

Yet another thing for the neighbors to disapprove of, gardening beyond normal gardening hours, but systematically purging his flower beds of weeds didn’t hurt anyone, and he kept to himself. It was a little past mid-morning now, and it was shaping up to be a very warm day indeed.

“I know you’re there, my dear,” Bilbo called over his shoulder, finally acknowledging the presence that had been lurking at his gate. She’d been there for a while now, watching, waiting, perhaps, for him to notice her. He sighed, sitting back on his ankles, before wiping his brow with one of his handkerchiefs. “Don’t just stand there. If you’re here to bother me, at least make yourself useful and help me with the begonias.”

[shaggywoolf]

⚕️🖤

[dreadwxlf]

“ … not many people really talk to me … “ - Aoife

  ~   Solas gave the other elf a quizzical look. “ And why is that? ” She seemed nice enough - perhaps she was simply shy? ~