#vela.

[velasmagicas]

៹   ✦  𝐑𝐮𝐢𝐡𝐚𝐨 𝐋𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐮 𝐩𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐨!  ✦   ៹

@flcwerbud, assim que você acender essa vela, sentirá o suave aroma de lavanda preencher o ambiente, aquecendo seu coração e alegrando tua mente. Guarde com carinho, pois este é o cheiro do seu amor. 

Anne Marie D’orleans   💚  

[velasmagicas]

 ៹   ✦ 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐅𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐮 𝐩𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐨!   ✦   ៹

@alanissyd, assim que você acender essa vela, sentirá a suave mistura de baunilha & bamboo preencher o ambiente, aquecendo seu coração e alegrando tua mente. Guarde com carinho, pois este é o cheiro do seu amor. 

Anne Marie D’orleans  💚

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[velasmagicas]

៹   ✦  𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐮 𝐩𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐨!  ✦   ៹

@cleoking, assim que você acender essa vela, sentirá a suave mistura de alecrim & sândalo preencher o ambiente, aquecendo seu coração e alegrando tua mente. Guarde com carinho, pois este é o cheiro do seu amor.

Anne Marie D’orleans   💚  

[velasmagicas]

៹   ✦  𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐮 𝐩𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐨!  ✦   ៹  

@mulherdeareia, assim que você acender essa vela, sentirá a suave mistura de lírios & laranjas preencher o ambiente, aquecendo seu coração e alegrando tua mente. Guarde com carinho, pois este é o cheiro do seu amor.

Anne Marie D’orleans   💚  

[polarishq]

Meet INDIGO “Indie” DALTON. They are EIGHTY-ONE years old and hail from JACKSON, MISSISSIPPI. Indie embodies the constellation, VELA. They use SHE/HER pronouns. Their faceclaim is WILLA HOLLAND.

Vela reminds me of the weight of a leather jacket across smooth shoulders, a middle finger shoved into the air, black wardrobe and crinkled hair, the revving of a motorcycle engine, respect existence or expect resistance. .

BIOGRAPHY

Indie was pretty damn young when she realized that her redneck and suffocatingly Christian town wasn’t going to do it for her. She felt stifled; everyone expected her to look a certain way, to speak a certain way, to dress a certain way. But Indie was radical, even as a child. At five years old, she grabbed Millie Wilcott by the collar and kissed her right in front of the church. At eight, she punched Jacob King right in the nose for spitting slurs at a kid in class. She was a frequent visitor to the principal’s office, always boasting bloody knuckles and a defiant grin. Before she was ten years old, Indie learned to never take injustice or prejudice sitting down.

Much to her parents’ chagrin, she proudly came out as pansexual when she was fifteen. Though no one in the town had the right to kick her out, she lost whatever warmth she was still receiving. ( Which, to be fair, wasn’t much. ) People rarely spoke hateful things to her, if only because they knew that she would fight back, but they were happy to pretend that she no longer existed. Aside from a few secret hookups and stolen kisses behind the school, Indie’s life became very lonely after she came out. Honestly, she was fine with that. She would much rather be lonely than be fake friends with a bunch of bigots.

As soon as she graduated from high school, she moved out of her hometown and went off to university. Those were kinder years, but they came to an end sooner than later. Then she began to travel, as most people do when they have nothing but time. 

While she was on the road, Vela appeared on the back of her hand. Aside from a bit of curiosity, Indie didn’t pay much attention to it. Her mark didn’t change who she was or what she stood for. She continued her life on the road, falling in and out of love, even got married once, before ultimately winding up alone again.

She finally came to Polaris when she exhausted all other possibilities. Though there is still much of the world to be explored, she’s finally interested in learning about her magic. Mostly because she’s figured out how to manipulate gravity, and she wants to learn more about that.

She’s the kind of girl you find at every rally and protest, standing up for equal rights for all. She always stands up for the underdogs or anyone who needs it. She’s not afraid to punch someone’s lights out, will plead guilty with a grin. Also, she’s a bit of a softy, will cry at any movie, even if there’s nothing sad about it.

INCLINATION

Vela is meant for the wild card witches. It always sponsors those who will get their hands dirty for justice, determined to do the right thing regardless of the cost. Vela often chooses water or air elements, because it has a special connection with the wind and tides.

CONNECTIONS

Filling Carter Macarthur’s Foster Sibling.

Filling Pepper Hawthorne’s Opposites Attract.

Penned by Ricki ★

[ofexaltationsa]

❅ sleepy kisses for bwall

@ancientbound

For as high up as Skyhold was, it rarely snowed in the fortress itself. Some strange magic, Blackwall supposed. ( That’s what it all was, wasn’t it? The magic getting stranger by the day. It started with the bloody Breach and it’d all been tits up from there. Snow dodging their fortress and making it a muddy mess was the least of the magic he’d seen, but- well, he was a simple man. ) 

The Hinterlands required more time to tame than anyone had thought- the seat of the Inquisition’s power, where it all began, but the worst hit by devastation and war. Trips back were requisite. Blackwall didn’t mind. Familiar territory, known trails beneath his feet, was comforting in the world gone mad that they found themselves in.

A comfort, too, that the cramped camp required them to pair up in their tents. Better for the weather, the winter hitting them full force in the last few weeks. 

The Inquisitor- her word law, of course- chose Blackwall as her tentmate. ( He had hoped for it, but would not say so. Foolish old man that he was, romantic heart beating so sorely beneath his armor. ) It was a late night setting up camp and sleep came easily. Vela tucked against him, sharing a bedroll, it was almost like the cold outside wasn’t bearing down. Fatigue was enough that once he wrapped his arm around Vela to pull her close, a deep black sleep took him. 

By the way the roof of their tent sagged in the morning and the muted noises of the outside world, Blackwall bet on some not insignificant snow through the night. The thought made him tighten his grip on the woman in his arms. ( Even in sleep, something about her was taut like a bowstring. He worried for her and she rightly terrified him. ) They could spare a few minutes like this. He could steal a few moments of enjoying the cozy peace. Greedy, he breathed her in. 

His deep breath stirred her. A slender hand traced his arm around her and he sighed the breath out. He had hoped she’d sleep, and it was his fault for waking her. Guilty, he shifted to cover her more. Both half asleep, he supported his weight with his elbow of the arm that was wrapped around her. One thigh slid between hers and he covered her. There was no thought to it, simply a want. To apologize for waking her, to have her first memory of the day be his kiss. Ah, greedy old fool, he thought to himself as he captured her lips. No words to follow, no good morning. It was too early, too cold, so he simply lingered for a breath- and then kissed her again.