blightead

[blightead]

ok after some thought, gonna be moving some muses to a different space and probably deleting this blog in about a month, just to give some time if others want to continue drafts.

#OOC.

[blightead]

cian is a short king which works out from him in a couple ways. 1) everyone expects the hero of ferelden to be very tall and imposing and not just some guy with a bad mustache 2) his partners are usually taller so he can just fit real nice and close

#MOBILE. #OOC. #everybody: omg i heard the hof was here!!!! #cian: omg no way where

[blightead]

he's so warm. she's helpless against it, falling into him and his kiss with a sigh. there is no part of him willa wants to part with. her unmarked hand slides into his hair, and there's a little crack of her own knees against the stone when she moves to press close against him. it draws a laugh from her, huffed out in a shaky breath that makes clouds in the night air. it prompts her to pull away, but only just, and gives her a moment to catch her breath.

❝ will you stay? ❞ she meant for the night. maker, she'd let him stay forever.

the night air in skyhold always carries a chill, and willa's hand is cool against his cheek, but fenris hardly feels the cold. not now, with willa pressed as close as she is; if anything, he feels flushed, over-warm. it's a familiar feeling, at least — one he spent seven years wrapped in, half the time hopelessly.

fenris finds the stone of the balcony hard and unforgiving under his knees when he surges forward into willa's embrace, but like the rest of the world, it seems to fade away to the background — he cannot seem to touch her enough, takes her face in his hands and then wraps his arms around her, as if she might vanish if he lets go.

#dracaeons #VERSE: INQUISITION. #IC. #WILLA HAWKE.

[blightead]

wilhelmina privileges are not given lightly and most of the cardholders are dead

#OOC.

[blightead]

there it is. the corner of her mouth lifts, and she looks away. instead she examines the cuffs around her wrists. she'd been on her way. isabela had found her a trustworthy ship with a captain that wouldn't ask questions. sebastian gave her a prayer for good luck. merrill had squeezed her hand and told her to enjoy all of ferelden's brown-ness. fenris had entreated her to write. even gamlen, when she'd given him the key to the estate in the dead of night, seemed forlorn - for all their differences. but the whispers hit her at the docks : did you see those templars grab up tethras? she couldn't leave him. she'd already betrayed a friend. ❝ i've been gone this long. the hinterlands can wait, ❞ she pauses, hazarding a look up. ❝ you couldn't. ❞

❝ well, ❞ says varric, sounding a lot more sure than he feels, ❝ you know me. ❞ because he's not that sure that she does, after all this; or maybe she knows he'd hate — does hate — the idea of her coming to his rescue, when he'd spent so much time crafting a story to keep them all from getting too much attention from the chantry, and just doesn't care. varric's can't really tell which option's worse. willa's a good friend — the best he's had, probably — but he remembers the look on her face, after anders, and wonders whether under her carefully-crafted expressions, that face is still there. he dodges the question. ❝ y'know, i thought you were out in the hinterlands somewhere. ❞

#dracaeons #VERSE: INQUISITION. #IC. #WILLA HAWKE.

[blightead]

never over the fact that the only way i can see that jayne outs herself as being a mage is if she’s protecting her siblings’ kids

#bc the continued flourishing of the couslands is ultimately why she does what she does anyway #why she’s Become This Way

[blightead]

the green knight starters

❝ look, see a world that holds more wonders than any since the earth was born. ❞   ❝ let me tell you instead a new tale. ❞   ❝ so stay a while. rest. and make yourself content. ❞ ❝ and if death awaits me? ❞ ❝ surely your knights have spilled enough blood in your name to bind them closer to you than i. ❞ ❝ good to have one’s family by one’s side. ❞   ❝ i recognize but i do not know you. ❞ ❝ what is this? a trick? ❞ ❝ and this is what you want most in life? ❞ ❝ green is the color of earth, of living things, of life. ❞ ❝ the world is fit for all manner of mysteries. ❞ ❝ you are not very good with questions. ❞ ❝ surely a knight knows something of love. ❞ ❝ i never knew so many books even existed. ❞ ❝ what if i wanted to sit by your side and take your hand and have your ear? ❞ ❝ do you still fancy me? do i make you happy? ❞ ❝ green is what is left when ardor fades, when passion dies, when we die, too. ❞ ❝ when you return, you will come with your head held high. ❞ ❝ this is how silly men perish. ❞ ❝ you rest your bones, my brave little knight. ❞ ❝ where you off to? a knightly quest? ❞ ❝ all dead. no one to bury them. ❞ ❝ by nightfall, you will be at the doorway of your destiny. ❞ ❝ i promise, you will not come to harm. ❞ ❝ why greatness? why is goodness not enough? ❞ ❝ are you really going to go? ❞ ❝ you’ll do this one thing, you return home a changed man, an honorable man? just like that? ❞ ❝ keep your five fingers strong, your five senses sharp. ❞ ❝ you have mud on your face. ❞ ❝ is it wrong to want greatness for you? ❞ ❝ i’ve been waiting for you. did you not hear me calling? ❞ ❝ what do you expect me to do? ❞ ❝ i am the luckiest here today because i am amongst you. ❞ ❝ do not take your place amongst legends idly. ❞ ❝ though my will longs to leap across this table and meet you, my body will not follow. ❞ ❝ you tell me a tale of yourself, so that i might know you. ❞ ❝ i’ve got no guts for merriment this year. ❞   ❝ i need…i need a sword. ❞ ❝ i dare say every table in this land has heard of you and sung your song. ❞ ❝ i know more than just your name. ❞ ❝ well, come on in if you want. ❞ ❝ perhaps you think that i am something i’m not. ❞ ❝ why would you ask me that? why would you ever ask me that? ❞ ❝ are you real, or are you a spirit? ❞ ❝ you are at the end of your quest. a little sooner than you expected, perhaps. but such is the case for us all. ❞ ❝ i am just a lost traveler, seeking rest for the night. ❞ ❝ did my father send for you? ❞ ❝ are you certain there is nothing you wish to give me? ❞ ❝ what will you say if i asked you to make me your lady? ❞ ❝ i do not know of any man who has not marched up to greet death before his time. ❞ ❝ were you afraid? ❞ ❝ you have had a year to find courage. ❞ ❝ come, come home. come home with me. ❞ ❝ i never asked for your company anyway! ❞ ❝ what witchcraft is this? ❞ ❝ go that way and your doom is at hand. ❞ ❝ unhand me and let us go our ways. ❞ ❝ fear not. you’ve only slept through the night. ❞ ❝ which direction are you headed? ❞ ❝ i will eat and give thanks and then take my leave. ❞ ❝ how do you know my name? ❞ ❝ you will find no mercy. no happy end. ❞ ❝ i don’t want your games, or your gifts, or your kindness. ❞ ❝ there’s an enchantment sewn into its threads. wear it and you will never be struck down. ❞ ❝ do you believe in magic, in witchcraft? ❞ ❝ do not touch me. ❞ ❝ i’ve lost something. will you help me find it? ❞ ❝ i’m very sorry. i…i did not see you. ❞ ❝ i fear i am not meant for greatness. ❞ ❝ stand up and face me! ❞ ❝ make a move or i shall make mine. ❞ ❝ let’s just stay here. come. let’s just stay here. ❞   ❝ i’ve got time. i’ve got lots of time. ❞   ❝ out my window this morning i looked, and i saw a land shaped by your hands. ❞ ❝ i look out upon my friends here today and i see songs no muse could ever sing or dream of. ❞ ❝ no. i’m not ready yet. ❞   ❝ i’ll finish this quest for you. ❞

#ASK MEMES.

[blightead]

the bear and the nightingale by katherine arden : part one. change pronouns as needed.

what tale will you have tonight?

i will have a story.

are you quite warm?

i've never been colder in my life!

a lot of good magic or miracles did her.

you must come here and help me.

what manner of girl-child comes here, all alone?

your father will be worried.

i was lost.

are you hurt?

how could you frighten us so?

it was very wicked.

tomorrow is soon enough for more talk.

eat and grow strong.

what brings you so far?

either you are a good judge of men, or you are dead.

come and help me.

what are you seeking?

do you wish to stay, then?

it is a hard life we lead here.

wash off the stink.

is she getting worse?

madness is a shameful thing in a line of princes.

i think you have a larger problem.

she cannot fail to be a beauty.

it would be an insult to you.

i would pray for your soul.

this is rotten stuff, already the silver is green around the edges.

you have trespassed on what is mine.

do you think faith will save you?

well, i go where i will.

don't mewl.

you are marked.

you will die.

am i so easily defeated?

what are you doing here?

he is a very fine horse.

i am too old for journeys.

you have taken something that was not given to you.

would you like some bread?

you might grow to love him.

i am going away forever.

i am sorry. it is a hard thing.

i must go and try myself, against the world.

it is a bitter thing to be a father whose sons abandon him.

do not hate me for going.

what lives in the river?

have you been listening to the peasants' stories?

can i help you fish?

who were you talking to?

are you a devil?

i look after the horses.

do they know you're here?

#ASK MEMES.

[blightead]

me, staring at everything i wrote last night : who am i

#OOC. #we are so back baby???? #also i think i'm gonna clear my inbox #and migrate pages.

[blightead]

@highaver said : you have to rest. we've still a long way ahead of us.

she was not so messy and wild-eyed as she had been when they found her. the tangle of half-burnt hair had been taken in hand by their sister, and then carefully cut to even out what was missing. the dirt had been washed off, her clothes changed. but jayne was still thin, still feverish, her large eyes still wide open long after the rest had gone to bed. she wrapped herself tighter in her blanket, pursing her lips in a sour expression to cover the fear in her eyes.

it came to her at night, in her dreams. whispering in her ear to burn, didn't it say it would help her burn them all? just give in and let them burn, jayne. it would show her what she'd seen : her home, on fire. corpses, endless corpses. and she'd get angry, so angry she almost let it . . . until she woke up, just in time. what happened if she didn't?

balfour stood by the fire, his voice soft but firm.

❝ you sound like mother, ❞ jayne snapped, and in the space where her throat closed up and her eyes stung, she focused on the fire. ❝ i can't sleep. it's dangerous. ❞

#highaver #VERSE: ORIGINS. #IC. #ANSWERED. #JAYNE COUSLAND. #:((((

[blightead]

❝ typical city boy talk, ❞ willa said, but she didn't laugh. she thought about carver grumbling just the same. might as well have stayed in ferelden if the ship was gonna kill us! willa shut her eyes, briefly, dropping a careful curtain over the memory. no. she'd never be fit to speak if all she could do once she was home ( home - ferelden had always been home, even after awhile ) was think about those who would never join her. she opened them again to find varric staring at her, hard, as he'd done the whole trip. willa stretches her legs out in front of her and flexes her hands in her bonds and tries to resist the urge to smile at the templar's brief, panicked expression. ❝ is there something on my face? ❞

andraste's ass. varric doesn't know whether he wants to hug hawke and never let go or to try his chances at throttling her for throwing herself headlong into this mess that the seeker's trying to bring down on all their heads. he's seriously thinking about making a move to do one of those things to the templar posted up in the corner; but the idea of drawing too much attention to the hold, especially from the seeker, isn't that appealing. ❝ she usually is. ❞ he hasn't stopped watching willa since they wound up here. ❝ personally, i think if we were meant to cross the seas we'd have grown gills. ❞

#dracaeons #VERSE: PRE-INQUISITION. #IC. #WILLA HAWKE. #i hate this for them (i love it)

[blightead]

she leans forward, capturing his lip with her own. the blanket that she'd curled up in on the balcony slips off her shoulders, but it might well have flown entirely away. willa has known hunger and thirst, moreso than others in her position - so she knows what it is to suddenly have everything you could want. her lips move against his, heart pounding. it feels familiar, it feels new, it feels - maker, she has missed him.

unfortunately, she has to breathe, and she pulls away with a shaky intake of breath. her free hand comes up to trace the curve of his cheek. ❝ i've missed you so much, ❞ he'd been here for months, but - it was different. she'd still missed him, here with her, without the titles and spikes. she scoots, desperate for closeness. her brows knit, as if she might say more, but she kisses him again instead.

he means it. nothing could change how he feels about willa, and they are feelings that he would have held onto for the rest of his life, fenris is certain of it. so much that he could not bear to hold his tongue any longer; that he could not bear to lose her to the fade. so much that it would not matter whether she felt the same.

nevertheless, relief warms him from within to hear her say it again, like a hot drink on a cold day, spreading throughout his chest and tingling its way down to the tips of his fingers where they rest against willa's cheek.

in truth, she needn't ask; as far as he is concerned, he has already given his consent to her for to whatever she likes, a thousand times over. but she did ask, and it makes all the difference. ❝ yes, ❞ he says, softly, thinks of letting himself into the amell estate countless times, of seeking her out in the bone pit, the wounded coast, every nook of kirkwall, and in every scrape they've found themselves in since. of all the times he's thought of it. ❝ — yes, of course. ❞

#dracaeons #VERSE: INQUISITOR. #pov you're a scout with a view of the balcony watching cassandra's fanfic come true #IC. #WILLA HAWKE.

[blightead]

constantly thinking about what a templar like . . . dispelling your magic feels like. like, in a fight i imagine it kind of feels like having your knees kicked out from under you. if it's a constant, more subtle moment i can see it leaving a general feeling of queasiness or sluggishness. or the feeling like you're getting sick.

#OOC.

[blightead]

❝ isabela was right, ❞ willa isn't looking at him, by design, but at the roof of the ship's hold. she had come to kirkwall much the same way as merrill, years ago. a cargo hold stuffed full of refugees. this one just contained she and varric and smelled considerably better, but she felt a mite queasier. she lowered her eyes to look at the templar lurking in corner, concentrating on keeping her docile. no doubt he was the cause. at least it meant she didn't have to bother coming up with excuses for not eating what was offered. she tries for a smile at him. ❝ it's better on deck. ❞

@dracaeons, for varric.

#disordered eating tw #VERSE: PRE-INQUISITION. #kind of? #dracaeons #IC. #WILLA HAWKE.

[blightead]

early inq willa does make one too many allusions about just cutting her arm off if she dies and still using the mark enough for her to get sent to talk with a chantry sister, or something. like this woman is very clearly not ok.

#OOC. #i know i say it every time but it's true #suicidal ideation tw

[blightead]

thinking always about willa just before dai starts. having a parallel interview with leliana while cassandra is interrogating varric bc she heard varric was brought in for questioning and she wasn't going to lose someone else. on the boat back across the waking sea to go give her testimony.

#OOC.

[blightead]

❝ only on paper, ❞ she said with a thin smile. ❝ the man practically lives in the infirmary. ❞ as if héloïse herself didn't. their work felt constantly incomplete. even the lulls seemed to portend some terrible thing on the horizon, perhaps that was why she felt so anxious sitting here, doing nothing. that was it. it certainly wasn't because of him, sitting down on the bed and smelling faintly of drink. it did not make her stomach knot when he smiled - but - didn't.

she might have taken the blade for him, even if she'd been conscious. she might haved died, and been glad to do it. maker, she was beginning to sound like one of the breathless faithful.

héloïse picked at her nails again, but when she brought her eyes up to his face again she caught a glimpse of part of his hands, hidden where he'd crossed them. on instinct, she leaned forward - winced, hissed a little - and grabbed his wrist to tug it away. ❝ what have you - let me see. ❞

"Don't you and Sovin share a room?" Bael wondered, folding his arms and resting on the bed so she didn't need to speak so loudly. His gaze lingered at the site of the wound briefly before giving Héloïse his full gaze once more.

He had a drink (or two) half a bell ago with the hope that it would cut his nerves enough to sleep. The smokiness lingered on his breath.

"I'm doubtful that he'd be so excited to see me in it after that assassin almost killed you because of me." He managed a joking smile, though it did not reach where it truly should. His own hands were still busted from the encounter with the assassin, bruises finally formed and looking more painful than they felt to Bael.

He wanted to break the tension he felt in his chest, a string pulled too taut in his chest. He didn't want to admit that it was worry, of course that was a normal emotion to feel when someone takes a knife for you, but there was a secondary feeling that was dangerous and settled awkwardly into a fragment of his chest he thought was long filled with graveyard dirt.

#whalefelled #VERSE: INQUISITION. #IC. #HÉLOÏSE.