I am not your slave.

Multi-verse Indie Fenris RP blog from DA2. 21+. Gore and nsfw rp definitely here. Feel free to message!

[hornedchief-deactivated20161019]

                 ‘ The World Needs Good Cops. Like You.’ 

                                                       x x x

[hidinginhumor]

@tevinterlittlewolf || Secrets and Magic

He was free. Oh, Maker he was finally free. It didn’t matter that the Templars would still be looking for him. It didn’t matter that they could catch him and drag him back anytime. He was free, and he would revel in that freedom for however long it lasted. The moment he got on the shore in Lowtown, Neil ditched his robes and even his staff for more common clothing. Night had fallen, making it easy to sneak through the streets. However, that didn’t mean Hawke had any idea where he was going. He was lost in only a few minutes and wound up in Hightown soon after. If he remembered right, though, there was a road from Hightown leading out of the city. If he could find that, he could be out of this cursed place before sunrise. 

But luck was hardly ever on his side, and tonight was no exception. Just as he’d passed the Chantry courtyard, he heard the sound of metaled boots on stone. Probably not Templars, but a patrol at least. Even the City Guard would be suspicious of a man wandering around at night. Neil ducked into a small alcove, coming up to a door to some old estate. The place looked abandoned, so Neil tried the door. Finding it unlocked, the mage slipped inside. It looked even worse on the inside: cobwebs everywhere, dust on the floor and shelves. He sighed in relief and moved further inside.

[tevinterlittlewolf]

Fenris had been here for a few weeks now. Danarius hadn’t been here in quite some time; but he knew, sooner or later, he would show up. He would know Fenris was here. He would know, that his little pet was still off the leash, running from him.

He sensed an intruder, twitched at the sound of feet on the ground; the walk of someone who was trying to walk carefully, but Fenris heard. Too many years of paranoia and time as a guard made him sensitive to the sounds of unwanted entry. He pressed himself to the wall, shifting to peer over the edge of a doorway and catching sight of Neil’s back. Thin, but might have hidden weapons-- might be a mage. He didn’t have the look of someone of Tevinter, but he had been wrong before. Moving silently, swiftly, the only warning Neil got was the clank of metal shifting as Fenris drew his blade, tip of it resting against Neil’s back. 

“Do not move,” He spoke low, rough. “State your business, stranger.”

[tevinterlittlewolf]

Ghost | trashmage-extraordinaire

[spiritusrebellis]

Anders looked up at him at last and gave a small nod. He still clutched the half-roll of bread in one hand, and held it to his chest as he carefully maneuvered himself to lie next to Fenris, back to the elf’s chest and shimmying closer until he could feel his warmth. Only then did he begin to eat, nibbling slowly as he allowed himself to relax. Or tried to, at least. The stress of their journey was still wearing down on him, and destroying his appetite as well. It was my force of willpower alone, and not wanting to waste what Fenris had given him that he managed to finish the piece of bread.

Once he’d swallowed the last bite, his heavy eyelids finally fell shut and he gave an almost inaudible sigh, one that anyone without Fenris’ superior Elven hearing wouldn’t be able to detect. He was just so exhausted, and for the first time I as long as he could remember, he didn’t feel afraid to sleep. “Thank you, Master,” he murmured, too tired to fight habit and keep the word from slipping out of his mouth.

[tevinterlittlewolf]

Fenris couldn’t find it in him to be angry for it. It left a sourness in his mouth, to hear the word, but he just sighed, shifted until he was mostly comfortable. The bedroll didn’t allow for any position but Fenris tucked against Anders’ back, almost intimate in how close they were. If any of their companions had seen them like this... they’d laugh. 

“Not your Master,” He muttered, too quiet, laying a hand over Anders’ eyes; the low, singing hum of lyrium tingling into his skin. “Go to sleep, mage.”

And it wasn’t long before Fenris found himself following his own command, falling into an uneasy sleep.

[tevinterlittlewolf]

Dirty Little Secret « firstenchanterofkirkwall

[turadh-deactivated20160902]

“If it was not a problem before, than why is it one now?!” He snapped in return, climbing to his feet. “Are you even trying? You can not use it if you are afraid of it! Or, pardon me, maybe not afraid, but it will not be of any use to you if you hate it. I am beginning to feel I am wasting my time with you. I don’t understand how you work. You have lyrium carved into your skin and you’ve repressed your–” Curse. “–gift for years. One of them is prohibiting growth and I am beginning to doubt it is the lyrium.” 

Unfair. Entirely, unbelievably, unfair. He knows Fenris is trying. He knows the poor man is doing his best, given the hand life has played him. Orsino does not know his entire story, only the fragments of what he trusted him with, but just the pieces he was granted was enough to weave enough patience and sympathy to give him more of a chance. But it was running out. He was risking so much for such little progress and repressed fear was manifesting itself as anger and exhaustion. 

“… You’re doing fine. We just – need to find balance. We will.”

[tevinterlittlewolf]

Fenris’ teeth ground together hard, and he went tense. He hated his gift, hated the trouble it had caused him. He would have been happier a warrior, happier to let that little flame die inside him without a word. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he paced in the circle he’d made with the fireball, spots on the floor still spotted with frost and ice. 

“How do you-- how do you normally suggest your students find balance, when they are struggling with--” He swallowed the bitterness that started to rise into his throat, drawing his fingers into a tight fist. “Magic?” The word held so much heaviness for him; came out strained, as if he spoke through a great deal of difficulty.

But it was the first time he’d let himself say it, instead of skirting around the word, like it would save him from something he already knew.

[aithreachas-a]

                          Twice my age and from SCOTLAND

                                         Multifandom OC Written by Harley

[sassyelf-mage-deactivated201701]

[askbroodyelf]

I’ve reached 5000 followers! I have no idea how that happened! Thank you so much TvT

Here you have a combination of three of my favorite things: Fenris, profiles, and long wavy hair. As a little thank you <3

I probably should celebrate this with a contest huh? But what kind? I really liked the fic-to-short-comic one last time, but maybe we can think of something new together. Let me know your ideas?

[tevinterlittlewolf]

Dirty Little Secret « firstenchanterofkirkwall

[turadh-deactivated20160902]

The jolt of agony that followed the abrupt tumble to the floor left the elf arched in pain as one hand immediately retreated to rub at the offended hip that had struck the floor first, the other curling into a tight fist against the smooth ice that now covered the foyer of Fenris’ mansion. Hissing a swear, Orsino thumped the thumb side of his fist lightly against his forehead several times before dispelling Fenris’ spell once again. This time, however, not all of it was chased away, just the immediate ice in his vicinity. 

He is trying to remain calm – it is a mistake. A slip up. Fenris has never used his magic before. Ah, but he doesn’t call it his magic! He refuses to name it! The amount of times the tattoo’d elf had argued over the use of that word went all the way back to the first night he even came to help. No, it’s not magic, it’s some beastly and hateful thing that he doesn’t want to be associated with. The lyrium in his skin makes it hard for him to regulate his mana. It has to. It shouldn’t be this hard.

Magic isn’t needed to soothe the pain in his hip, but he uses it anyway as he lays there, pinching the bridge of his nose and regulating his breathing and composure. Maker, he feels so old. Of all the things to be in pain, it’s his hip. When the pain subsides, Orsino sits up, rubbing his face and ignoring the painful numbness that tingles up his spine and through, not around, his hips.

”Fenris,” He says, voice low. “What, in the name of all bloody creation, was that?” And, after a pause; “Do you need a break?”

[tevinterlittlewolf]

Fenris swore again, under his breath, his tailbone aching from where he fell. His palms still felt cold in the aftermath. He struggled to stand, bare feet trying to find grip on the icy patches beneath him. He let out a frustrated growl. “I do not know!” He snapped, his anger getting the best of him, for the first time in weeks. At least before, he had been able to reign it in somewhat. “I do not know how I am supposed to do any of this! I was never— taught, it was never a problem.” He snapped. He let out a frustrated snarl; heat at his palms again, and with a frustrated gesture of one hand, he threw a ball of flame at a broken patch of ice away from Orsino, melting away a ball-shaped circle of frost and leaving dripping patches on the surface of what remained.

His breathing was rough, his brow shining with sweat. He could feel the lyrium in his skin like a pulsing all the way down to his bones.

After his outburst, he raked his fingers through his hair, his brow knitted. “Perhaps— a break,” He said, his voice tight.

[startshxtwithme]

Send me a ✏️ and I'll draw your muse.

[siickangel]

[000px]

[goblinreign-deactivated20170912]

                                  How you turned my world

                                           you precious thing–

[meme-cafe]

Send me a “ 🔥 “ for an unpopular opinion.

Bonus points if you include a topic. ( IE. shipping, roleplaying, ect. )

[mitchellwrites]

deathless ♚ sentence meme

[yonjuichigo]

You will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast.

You are going to break your promise. I understand.

You’re lonely too.

It will stop your breath, how cruel I can be.

I am a demanding creature. I am selfish and cruel and extremely unreasonable.

I am your servant. 

I crawl at your feet; for before your love, your kisses, I am debased.

For you alone I will be weak.

I belong here, and you will not deny me.

I say these things, and the world listens.

I do not tolerate a world emptied of you. I have tried.

In the dark, I have pored over the loss of you like pale gold.

I will not let her speak because I love her, and when you love someone, you do not make them tell war stories.

I moved the earth and the water for you.

You will always run away with her.

You will always lose her.

You will always be a fool.

You will always be dead, in a city of ice, snow falling into your ear.

You have already done all of this and will do it again.

No one should be judged for loving more than they ought, only for loving not enough.

We look terrible to you, and severe, and you see our blood flying.

What we carry between us is hard-won, and we made it just as we wished it to be, just the color, just the shape.

There need never be any rules between us.

Let us be greedy together; let us hoard.

Do not leave me, swear that you will never leave me.

I am selfish. I am cruel. My mate cannot be less than I.

Sleep with fists closed and shoot straight.

I can’t abide a poor liar.

You look like a winter’s night. I could sleep inside the cold of you.

Oh, quit that. Blushing is for virgins and Christians.

Scold me; deny me. Tell me you want what you want and damn me forever. But don’t leave me.

Bad luck relies on absolutely perfect timing.

In his own country, Death can be kind.

What is the world but a boxing ring where fools and devils put up their fists?

Men die. It’s practically what they’re for.

I am no one; I am nothing. 

Nothing in me was not made by you.

A revelation is always the end of something. It might even be cause for grief.

Just tell yourself a story that’ll satisfy you and pretend he told it.

Forever isn’t bright; it isn’t like that. Forever is cold and hard and final.

I savor bitterness - it is born of experience. It is the privilege of one who has truly lived.

If you want to kill yourself, do not use us as your knife.

What did I do wrong? Was I boring? Did I ignore you?

Don’t you dare speak to me like that.

I have worn nothing but blood and death for years.

I have fought all your battles for you, just as you asked me.

I have learned not to cry when I strangle a man.

I have learned to watch everything die.

I am not a little girl anymore, dazzled by your magic. It is my magic, now, too.

Are we not devils?

No one is now what they were before the war. 

I have not seen you without your skin on.

Close up your head; your brain is getting loose.

We obsess. It’s in our nature.

I’ve a devil of a habit for being right.

In war you must always choose sides.

If you try to be a bridge laid down between them, they will tear you in half.

We are all dead. All equal. Broken and aimless and believing we are alive.

My old bones will follow yours soon enough.

It is better to be strong and cruel than to be fair.

I will see him with his skin off before I agree to fall in love.

After love, no one is what they were before.

I have survived, but I have not been spared.

In the space of one heartbeat to another I loved you and I was lost to you.

Frighten me, make me cry, only come back.

It’s not so bad, my darling. Being dead. It’s like being alive, only colder.

You’ll think it’s love, while he dines on your heart.

You will be so beautiful when you are old.

I cannot keep you and I cannot let you go.

You will live as you live in any world…with difficulty, and grief.

I look at you and it is like my throat being cut.

She said you’d come and I swore to eat your heart.

I still want to kiss you.

My heart is being cut in two. I cannot bear it.

What happens to anything beautiful?

I have to know, I have to or else you will just rule me until the end of everything because you know and I do not.

[wnq-writers]

Whether you are the moon or the sun, I do not know. Either way, you guide me out of the darkness and into the light.

Ramn Grewal (via wnq-writers)

[tevinterlittlewolf]

Lyrium and Asprin« reilinwarad

[reilinwarad]

Reilin jolted awake when he heard that little bell. Nobody should have been in the office. He looked to the back door, to make sure no one was stalking outside the frosted windows.

“A-One moment!” He called, quickly throwing on his lab coat and crocs.

Closing his office door behind him he made his way to the intake window, “I’m sorry, the office is closed until eight am…is this an emergency?” He questioned, keeping his eyes on the men.

[tevinterlittlewolf]

“Yes,” the man spoke low, his voice rough and slightly accented, marking him as foreigner. “We are searching for lost property. We believe it may have come through here, if it is not still here to begin with.” The man rummaged in his bag, coming out with his phone. He flicked through it until it came to a blurred picture of the elf still dozing on the couch in the back room; flash of white hair and lyrium tattoos visible in the photo.

“Have you seen an elf like this?” 

[tevinterlittlewolf]

Dirty Little Secret « firstenchanterofkirkwall

[turadh-deactivated20160902]

“Think of it.” He says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Instead of thinking of fire, think of ice. But–ah, don’t direct it at me. Practice facing the wall, or the stairs. Ice magic can be just as unstable as fire and can manifest itself in just as many different, dangerous ways.” A blizzard, for instance. Ice spokes that put the sharpness of most swords to shame, capable of piercing stone, in some cases. On the less extreme side – snowballs, iceballs, a pitiful flurry of snow and shavings. 

“Fire may still come, but you are in control, not the magic. It is merely a tool to warp the delicate nature of the fade into being your weapon.” However, if he still proved to be having difficulties with the fire being dominant, they would need to switch back, and first hone his abilities there before trying to jump between the specializations. 

[tevinterlittlewolf]

Fenris pursed his lips. He nodded, a quick jerk of his head; for once, stifling his arguments about the fact that he was not, in fact, magic. The argument was a tired one, and not one he wished to reiterate tonight. Not now, when a semblance of control was so close at the tips of his fingers, threatening to slip away. “I am not overly familiar with Ice,” he said after a moment, low and quiet. “But I have been to Ferelden. I will do what I can.” 

He drew in a slow, deep inhale. He thought back, on his experiences with ice -- with winter.  The way the wind had stolen the feeling out of his fingers, until they felt stiff with it. He had always thought of that little thing inside him as a flame. 

What if it had been something else?

He thought about the cold. About how it leeched the life out of his fingertips. He thought about it expanding; coming up and out of him from that place deep inside. Frozen. Like ice. 

He didn’t aim at Orsino this time-- but instead, at the floor. The burst of icy wind at his fingertips was sudden and overwhelming -- a patch of ice starting where the initial hit had landed, and spread outwards across the floor under their feet, frozen solid. Fenris’ feet lost traction on the sudden slippery shift of material under him-- and he hit the ground solidly, the blow jarring all the way up to his spine. “Vehendis--! “