#nothinglorious

[ghilannainguideme]

@nothinglorious

ghilannainguideme  asked: ❛ there’s nothing wrong with being a lizard , unless you were born to be a hawk ❜

⚔️ 《 LYNA AND ALISTAIR 》

SHADOW AND BONE. @ghilannainguideme​

  “And what if I was born to be neither? What if I’m supposed to be a nug or something?” He hated this, he hated not knowing exactly who or what he was supposed to be. “I guess I get what you mean, but think about it…I wasn’t born to do this; I wasn’t born to be a King. I’m supposed to be here, beside you and fighting against the Darkspawn. I’ll only ask you once please don’t choose that for me. Choose to let me stay, choose to let me continue doing what I love and what I love is being here with you.”

There was something in the tone of his voice that ached like an old broken bone. Not for the first time, she raged privately at what Arl Eamon had put on Alistair’s shoulders, at Teyrn Loghain for setting all of this in motion, at Duncan for pulling her into this shemlen mess rather than--

“I didn’t mean that,” she said, her voice firm but very quiet. She turned onto her side to face him, letting her hand rest on his shoulder and stroking it softly. The bed was warm and plush, and Eamon’s estate at least afforded them privacy, but at the same time, this place reminded her that she was an outsider--an interloper. That her life and the one that Eamon intended for Alistair could hardly be more different. 

“I want you to stay. Do you know that? Whatever time I have, I want it to be with you.”

She didn’t give him time to dwell on that. “If anything, I’d say you ought to be a mabari. Loyal, strong...” she tried, really tried, to suppress a girlish smile, but there was no help for it. She half-hid her face against his neck. “Handsome.”

[polyphoniie-a]

{ @nothinglorious | moved from here! }

Alistair had too much to drink and he was beginning to think Hawke had as well. The King didn’t have many people to talk to and perhaps using the Champion of Kirkwall as someone to vent too wasn’t the best idea, he talked as much as Alistair did and it helped. It helped to talk to someone else who understood. Despite being angry, he laughed and seemed to relax. “We’re always in charge. We can assign someone else to choose the acronym.” He brought the tankard to his lips, some of the liquid inside sloshing down his chest. “Andraste’s tits.” He hissed, swiping at the mess.

Castor laughed heartily and nodded. “You’re damn right we can, and y’know why? Because they put us in charge!” He laughed again. It was nice to see the man relax, actually. He’d heard this king was inexperienced, but overall ‘not the worst,’ (Not his words, mind!) and what sort of Fereldan would he be if he didn’t try to see for himself?

The fact that Castor was essentially an expatriate from the Fifth Blight was not the point, there.

“Oho, does Divine Victoria know the King of Ferelden uses such language?” He teased lightly, handing Alistair a rag to help clean up the spill. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her.”

[greyeyedgriffin]

Das Husbando tagged me in posts about the Fab5 getting called to help Hawkeye and I’m DYING. It’s so good y’all.

But now I’m like, “Who would Cait sick the Fab 5 on?”

Warden Alistair: @nothinglorious

Cullen (if just for the roof and getting him to wear clothes that aren’t armor: @oflyrium-andlove

Annnnnnnnnd the trash boy Tal: @quiisquiliae

[inquisitorofwar]

Starter for @nothinglorious

Denerim.

The Capital of Ferelden, the revered holy city said to be the birthplace of Andraste. It was surely a sight for the eyes, for after having spent months from one ruins to a small village, then to more ruins, snow, and then even more ruins left for restoration, something so intact and old was welcome. To get used to the slightly stuffier air in the city, as opposite to the crisp mountain breeze and the thick woods surrounding their path through their journey, was one thing. Not that it was a challenge, so to say, but it was just very... different. Éleanor wasn’t quite sure which she preferred so far, for if she was completely honest. Their little party had been left as small as possible, specifically to see to the Inquisitor’s requests on drawing as little attention as possible. It was one thing to get nailed as a heretic by the Chantry for having gained a ‘prosperous’ title of Herald of Andraste by the people, but Maker help her if the inhabitants of the holy city were to catch a whiff of her. Éleanor didn’t know what to expect, especially when considered to how much she despised to be called a prophecy. As much as Josephine dissuaded her from speaking her mind out in such frank fashion, the truth was that she’d just been a woman at the wrong place, and at the wrong time.

And with shitloads of luck to boot.

Their entrance to the Royal Palace had been... surprisingly smooth. She supposed that after having aided in subduing the rebellion, as well as helping the many civilians of Haven that they could, their standing with Ferelden wasn’t all too bad. They were about sixteen in total in their party, with Éleanor flanking the rest as they were escorted indoors. Walking felt strange after having spent a whole day on the saddle without stopping. They’d fallen short on the schedule as it was, and she really didn’t wish to start of a possible, good diplomatic relationship by insulting the King with tardiness. Besides, she wasn’t still fully assured that the King wouldn’t chew her for dumping a whole mountain over a town. Sure, it was deeply necessary, and it had been the only way to save the refugees, but not all had seen it like that. She could only hope that the King was reasonable.

[sararcdcr]

( @nothinglorious​ ) ;

         ———-  ❛ does that dog bark ALL the time or...? ❜

           sara chuckles, knowing well that it’s likely found something of interest. dogs are creatures that she loves dearly ---- being both intellectual and adorable at the very same time. though they may only be pets ( she had even owned one herself for a while before sadly having to give it away to a close friend ), sometimes they can be the best company a person can have. a companion and friend regardless of their inability to fully communicate with humans and alike. still, man’s best friend can and will find a way to get through to you. just like now, with the barking dog she’s looking at right now.

[hawkelana]

❛ Pain and misery always hit the spot ❜

Depeche mode quotes! || Accepting

Lana snickered as she lifted the mug to her lips, “I think you, my dear gray warden, have drank far too much...” She couldn’t deny how right that was though. Sometimes it did feel quite nice to let herself revel in self pity.

@nothinglorious

[cutebloodmage-blog]

“you shouldn’t be this deep into the forest alone.”

Merrill, startled by the voice, loosed an arrow too early. It fell shy of the mark, which ran off very quickly. Because of the Blight, food had been scarce and that Fennec would have definitely helped.

“You should know better than to scare someone in the middle of a hunt- unless you’re trying to start something,” she turned to face him. Merrill was nearly quivering; humans had always been rather intimidating to her. Especially ones with swords and armor. As the fear seized her, she could feel the ice spreading from her fingertips, and the bow groaning in protest.

Struggling to sound intimidating, she stuttered out a warning, “You should also know my whole clan is with me. Somewhere around here.”

[ghilannainguideme]

Alistair likes watching scary movies and carving pumpkins

(I didn’t manage to write anything properly, so I’m just gonna talk about things that make me happy, lolol)

I’m imagining that Lyna has to work during the day--hikers and campers and general forest management don’t stop because of Halloween--so Alistair shows up at her cabin just around sundown with two big pumpkins, one of those grocery-store pumpkin carving kits, and a DVD of The Thing or some other classic thriller. The kitchen table is soon covered in newspaper and pumpkin insides, and there are spiced pumpkin seeds toasting in the oven; they turn off all but a few lights, and a cold wind outside is making the tree branches outside rattle and tap on the cabin’s windows during all the creepy-quiet moments, and Lyna isn’t really sure if Alistair is genuinely gripping her arm in terror or if it’s exaggerated for the benefit of being comforted, but she happily entwines her fingers with his and leans her head on his shoulder.