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@shellheadtm said: reverse: can I sleep with you? - surprise have a dumb dwemer boy can i sleep with you || accepting

The house here was grand, yet had quickly become something more familiar, more homelike than he’d had in a long time. Since before his reawakening from ice, even, if he was honest. He’d always been more at home on the ice, near the sea, hunting with a pack of wolves or climbing the cliffs.

But here was almost familiar. While he’d never really lived in more than a tent, the house and the furniture was warm and comfortable, the style something halfway between his age and this new one, the familiar dwemer notes slowly taking over more and more as he and Tnathas settled further into the house.

Sven had insisted Tnathas take the master bedroom of this place. This house, and the empty city below them, meant more to him. Besides, the other rooms were far from shabby--his own was still large enough for a sturdy bed and wardrobes, though many of his things were still in his pack, waiting to be dispersed throughout the room.

The soft knock at his door had him looking up from the clothes he was mending. Tnathas stood in his doorway, features flickering from a nervous smile to something more charming, all as he stood just outside Sven’s room, asking his question and trying desperately to keep his tone calm. Sven looked from Tnathas, to his bed, then back, ducking his head for a moment before smiling. “Of course. You’re welcome wherever I am. My bed is more than big enough to the both of us.”

Standing from where he sat, he walked over to his packs, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out a large patchwork pelt blanket. It’d been one of the first things he’d made, from the various pelts of foxes and deer he found, the furs thick for winter, the leather soft from his treatments. He’d taken some time to embroider the inside even, mapping the stars of his home on the interior. It was meant to find a home on top the already plush blankets on the bed.

Instead, Sven walked it over to Tnathas, gently arranging the pelts around his shoulders, smoothing his hands over the elf’s chest before smiling, speaking softly. “That’s better. You looked too cold, standing in my door. Come in?”

#shellheadtm #v: ice burns; and it is hard for the warm-skinned to distinguish fire from frost { skyrim };;#query;#[ wowowow sven you smooth talker ]

@shellheadtm said: like i ain't need it but for the kids at home: talk about bucky being a normal guy and not all roided out on serum

ask me questions and let me tell you that good good bucky lore || accepting

it’s true! he’s a sham! or amazing! really it just depends on how you look at it but--

bucky’s origins have been retconned (see Captain America and Bucky #620), and frankly, it suits him better. see, originally, bucky just kind of stumbled onto steve rogers while he was changing into his captain america costume, and the brass decided to let him stick it out with cap. but in the retcon, bucky was a known troublemaker and a fighter, and the army decided to put that to use, train him, and use him as a spy, assassin, and a propaganda tool all in one.

(from Captain America #5). he was trained by the same people who trained steve (see Captain America #12). and that was just at sixteen!! sixteen!! imagine what age and muscles and body weight did for him. and honestly, it’s impressive that in a team made up of cap, the human torch, toro, and namor, that bucky, the one un-powered human, was able to keep pace with all of them.

he can do all that without a serum. that’s all 100% james buchanan “bucky” barnes right there.

(from Captain America #11). he doesn’t have a drop of serum in his blood. no, he was, essentially, to the russians, a placeholder while they got the widow program up and running. his value was that he was an american who could blend in with the enemy and travel undetected, but would be completely loyal to russia. his combat skills were a bonus utilized later when they did get their super soldier program up and running--it’s why he trained natasha, who is a super soldier. who he can also go toe-to-toe with, to an extent (see Winter Soldier #9).

which, speaking of holding back--bucky, generally, holds back a lot. because he doesn’t want to kill people. his conscience has really redirected a lot of that. but when he’s not holding back? it took wolverine, hawkeye, daredevil, and captain america to take him down (see Winter Soldier #13). he took down logan by himself and was able to lose the legendary tracker, and stopped one of hawkeye’s arrows with his normal arm (see Winter Soldier #12). not to mention everyone’s favorite moment when he uses his normal arm to hurl an arrow, killing a terrorist (see Winter Soldier: Winter Kills).

so don’t get me wrong, bucky is amazingly skilled, very strong, and very, very dangerous. he’s an assassin and world class sniper who holds back to be a hero, who uses his training to be as non-lethal as necessary, and does his best to keep himself above board--but he’s human. 100% human, with his only enhancement really being his metal arm. take the arm away, and he’s essentially the same exact guy, just minus a bit of versatility that the metal arm brings.

#query;#no file found { ooc };#shellheadtm #file:: winter soldier { headcanon };#[ i love my incredibly human son ]#[ he's dumb but brave and so full of heart ]

Blackwall, who has the worst beard in the Inquisition?

“Have you seen Cullen try to grow his beard out?” Blackwall shook his head, putting on the appearance of grave disapproval dispite the slight curl of a smile at the corners of his lips.

“Anyone with blond hair shouldn’t grow a beard. It, for a fact, just doesn’t look good unless you can just spring one up over night like a dwarf.”

#query;

☀

symbols | ☀ - ask my muse to stay the night | accepting

“You sure?” Vann ran his hand through his hair, slowly looking around the room for nothing else to look at. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to stay, he just...

Was this really the best idea? Their previous night together had started off in jest--who could be the bigger romantic sap, featuring many cliched things, like flowers and sweets. Vann had even read aloud some passages from Swords and Shields, though he preferred not to answer any questions Inara had asked as to how he’d found the book (thankfully she hadn’t noticed it was well worn with a few pages dog-eared).

But the drunken sex that had followed that night had been a random spark that set an odd simmer in him, something he wasn’t sure if he should fan to flame or stamp out immediately. Inara seemed fond enough of him--but she was fond of many people, and that fondness had brought quite a few to her bed. It wasn’t the number that was frightening--it was his inability to figure out not only his own feelings, but hers as well. This seemed, all in all, to be a very bad idea.

“If it’s what you’d like,” He murmurred, unbuckling his belt and shrugging out of his heavy coat. Vann’s boots came off next before he shucked his shirt and slid into bed behind her. His arms wrapped around her and he sighed. “You feel good like this--in my arms. Thank you.”

#valorcorrupt #query;#a: vann hawke;#[ wow wow wow this is gay ]

description from the twins | accepting

So that’s a Qunari.

The thought’s clearly shared by both the twins as they stare, not bothering to hide their gaze or how they both assess The Iron Bull. He’s taller than them both by at least a good foot, and that’s not considering his massive horns, bigger than any ram’s rack Rikvi had ever seen. And there’s something about the way the spirits swirl about him--she hasn’t met another Qunari, she doesn’t know if this is how their people are with the spirits, but the way they seem to hover about his head makes her think that there’s something in him that’s not quite the same as all the rest. Of course, the image Curiosity brings to her mind, showing her The Iron Bull through it’s eyes makes her even more--well, curious--a solid iron box, sharp and bloodstained on the outside, rusted at the corners, but not weak--just vulnerable. Hit him hard enough and he will break.

Vald’s watching his men just as much as he’s watching The Iron Bull--the way they chat, the ease at which they all pick at each other, the familiarity that simply fills the air as they unpack their belongings. They’re at ease, and they look up to The Iron Bull, not because they have to, but because they want to. And that speaks more to Vald than anything. The Qunari might cut an imposing figure, coming off as something foreign and frightening--but at the end of the day, his people love him, and it’s quite obvious that The Iron Bull shares the same feelings, no matter what it is Qunari are supposed to feel for those outside the Qun.

#afirmbelieverinnopantsfridays #query;

TELL ME ABOUT THE PHYSICAL ASPECTS OF ELVES YOU CAN SEE IN VAL

OKAY

so vaharel is half-elf, half-human, and as such, there’s some things that appear more elfy, and some things that appear more human. on the surface, if you simply looked at val, you’d see an elf. pointy ears, short, eyes that reflect light in the dark.

but upon closer inspection, there’s some telling signs he’s got a bit of human blood in him, specifically from his father. he has a more defined bridge to his nose, with a more obvious brow. his jaw is rather square as well, a feature he picked up directly from his father, who also has a very strong jaw. funnily enough, his hair and eye color come from his father as well (dark red hair and gray-green eyes)--he got his mother’s skintone though.

body-wise, he builds muscle a lot more obviously and aside from being short, has a more human-typical body build than the willowy figures elves typically have. he’s still well-proportioned, but when he’s trying on armor, it’s easier to get human armor for a short person than modify elven armor to fit his thicker arms, legs, and chest.

#headcanons;#valorcorrupt #query;

blackwall/thom ????

what other muses do you think i should play | accepting

!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i’ve never actually thought of that but??? i could see it tbh

He ran his hands down the grain of the wood, touch light, almost caressing the oak griffon like a lover. Wood was malleable, changing to the carpenter’s vision. If only life were so easily crafted. If only he could sand the flaws in his life smooth, stain them over so it blended evenly with the rest, becoming some unremarkable day among all the rest of his life. If only he could craft himself anew, truly, to become something different, something better. For himself, for the Inquisition--for the Inquisitor. He owed them that much.

#ooc;#[ i've never??? wanted but now i can totes see it ]#[ thank u friend ]#outlivings #query;