mmarchive

as for threads: reply to them as usual, i’ll see them and reply on the new blog when i do, if you want to @ the new blog in the reply somewhere u dont Have to but it would be nice for me :3c otherwise i’m replyin to things i already owe there now, and if i’ve liked a starter call or smth just tag it for there

send 🌩 for a nightmare vic has had !

          the first of vic’s more terrible nightmares came shortly after his first encounter with darkspawn, and shaeva ( as well as the rest of the camp, and likely all of ferelden ) had been made well aware of it.

         they’d been in the deep roads a few days prior, admittedly not the best way to ease someone into fighting darkspawn. he’d seen so many, in many different forms, including that hideous broodmother. these sights carried on into his dreams, in the form of morbid close-ups of gnashing teeth, clawed and grubby hands reaching out for him as ogres charged nearby. the nightmare itself increased the fear factor, of course, and every darkspawn that appeared in the dark void he was trapped in made him all the more terrified. how they scratched and dug at his skin, adding the fear of the taint into the mix. had he remembered to keep his mouth shut ? shaeva always did remind him. how greatly he’d talked himself up, then, and how wrong he’d turned out to be ! the darkspawn, which seemed to multiply with each second, started to become more fearsome, quickly surrounding him til he could see nothing else.

send 🌠  to reveal a good dream vic has had ! 

                one memorable dream vic had, was the end of the blight.

      but it was a dream, of course, so the state of the world was rather beautiful. the archdemon was defeated with ease, and everyone lived ; crowding together in one group hug and cheering at the top of their lungs. everything was over, everyone was safe again, they’d finally get to rest. those who had died, as well, lived again. even his mother drew breath to sing for the archdemon’s end, past friends, family members, and lovers his friends had mentioned embraced them in joyous celebration. and from there, they decided to stick together, to try and make thedas a better place for everyone, beyond stopping the blight. there were also nugs, for some reason. perhaps leliana was to blame. got to love dreams.

      “ i like the idea of clearing her out of here for a day, but a day is too long, ” threnn nodded, listening closely to vic’s proposition. “ i think cabot⏤and his alcohol supply⏤would thank us if she were gone for at least an hour. ”

   their arms would cross over their chest, loosely, just barely held up; a hand stroking their chin before tapping absently at it. “ but how? maybe i could convince one of the serving boys to lock her in the kitchens? that doesn’t give us much time, but time nonetheless. ”

   shrugging, threnn leaned back in their chair, arms now lazily draped upon their torso rather than being actively held up. “ bees are too predictable; we’d be⏤no pun intended⏤giving her her a taste of her own medicine. we need to do something absolutely outrageous, one that’ll shake the foundations of this maker-forsaken fort. ”

         vic gave threnn a somewhat concerned, yet still interested expression. ❝ just make sure you don’t value the life of whatever serving boy you pick. ❞ he scoffed, legs swinging more forcefully, practically shaking the entire table. 

       his features scrunched, and a hand rose to rub his head and cover his face for a moment, trying to think of something that could bewilder the likes of sera. fun as this idea was ; he should have given it more thought. an eye peaked out from his hands, now giving threnn a questioning look. 

@lostson liked for a starter! | ( solas sc! )

         " are you quite sure that you hold no responsibility for this? “

      tea. specifically, the leaves, all over his desk. well, half of his desk; solas had just stepped into the rotunda when he caught the other man red-handed.

                                ( tea handed? the quip might have made him smile, once. )

         ” seeing that your hands are full of tea bags, one can only assume. “

        ❝ i am quite and absolutely sure. couldn’t be surer ! ❞ vic quickly crossed his arms over his chest, attempting to hide his hands and their dubious contents. 

bold  any  fears  which  apply  to  your  muse. italicize  what  makes  them  uncomfortable.

the  dark      ⋆      fire      ⋆      open  water      ⋆      deep  water      ⋆      being  alone      ⋆      crowded  spaces      ⋆      confined  spaces      ⋆      change      ⋆      failure      ⋆      war      ⋆      loss  of  control      ⋆      powerlessness      ⋆      prison      ⋆      blood      ⋆      drowning      ⋆      suffocation      ⋆      public  speaking      ⋆      natural  animals      ⋆      the  supernatural      ⋆      heights      ⋆      death      ⋆      dying      ⋆      intimacy      ⋆      rejection      ⋆      abandonment      ⋆      loss      ⋆      the  unknown      ⋆      the  future      ⋆      not  being  good  enough      ⋆      scary  stories      ⋆      speaking  to  new  people      ⋆      poverty      ⋆      loud  noises      ⋆      being  touched      ⋆      forgetting      ⋆      being  forgotten

                     she blanches, and not from the chill in the air. the promise of a song had been spoken in somewhat of a jest, not really made to be carried out. how long had it been since she had sung? forever, it seems. how often she used to sing! the loreius chateau had been filled with song, once upon a time. mother had called her the greatest songbird in all of orlais; salons had even begged the eldest loreius daughter to perform from time to time. but it was in the quiet of the night when helena enjoyed singing the most: to her younger sister. lullabies were sung under the veil of the moon, to soothe the younger’s troubled sleep. hand was held until justina loreius fell into slumber. 

                         absentmindedly, helena squeezed vic’s hand. memories of her family flooded her mind, and eyes blurred. no…it wasn’t the time to think of such things. she would think of her sister another time, alone, and allow unshed tears to fall. not now, under the gaze of another, who will ask questions she doesn’t want to answer. 

                         “if you wish it…” helena licks her lips, wondering what her voice will even sound like after such a long time of no use. perhaps her voice will screech, and that will truly give him a fright…enough to truly bring him back to life. or perhaps her voice will actually sound decent…for a few moments helena ponders what to sing, before settling on her sister’s old favorite. 

                        “too long I have traveled, soon i’ll see her smiling, the girl in red crossing i’m longing to see. oh, i know she is there, daisies in her hair, waiting by the chantry to marry me.” gently she begins to sing, the sad song her sister had always adored. her voice is shaky at first, before growing in strength. her thumb brushes his hand softly, as helena had done so many times in the past. “i found her lying there, daisies in her hair, waiting by the chantry to marry me..” silence, save for the crackling of the fire. she brushes a stray tear away, never breaking the joining of their hands. perhaps….she had sung well enough. 

             vic watches with a very expectant look, one that tells just how pleased with himself he is. poor helena, he thinks. by the time he’s well again, she’ll certainly want nothing more to do with him. that will be his own fault, though, as it usually turns out to be. at least he’s enjoying himself for now. but ... perhaps helena growing tired of him wouldn’t be something so easily shrugged off. come to think of it, such a thing sounds quite terrible. perhaps he’ll have to lay off, be less annoying so not to ruin everything. starting ... after the song, of course.

        the singing was nice, relaxing, and he even shut his eyes for a moment to properly listen to it. his mind was still caught up in the hand holding his, the gentle squeeze and brushes that came with it. what a nice moment. soothing, even, if that's possible at such a time. of course it makes him nervous, nice moments like this are always ruined by something eventually, but for the time being ; everything’s quite alright. 

         so alright, even, that he finds himself drifting into slumber. hang on now, he thinks, this wasn’t the plan. he wants to stay awake, hear her sing some more, ⏤ he really has no actual interest in falling asleep. but he’s tired ... exhausted, actually. after the events of the day, how could he not be ? getting wounded is tiring enough as it is, but with the extra scare, now combated with helena’s comfort and singing ? he very well could fall asleep.

        and he does, slowly. as he drifts off, there’s a sleepily murmured ❝ that was pretty, ❞ followed by a whispered ❝ thanks. ❞ his hand never moves from helena’s, and after a few tosses and sleepy sighs, he remains quiet for the rest of the night, as his body attempts to heal and prepare for what the next day would bring.

👀 + a question for vic to answer honestly !

      the words that he heard shattered malthos’ heart. the empire … that pit grew again in his stomach, tugging at the back of his throat. he felt sick. dirty. disgusting. but he grit his teeth, holding it all back with a heavy swallow whilst readjusting his grip on vic’s torso.

         " the empire won’t take me, “ he said, gruff, skin prickling with shame at the notion of his lie. how much longer could he keep this up? how much longer could he continually lie to vic—to everyone around him? not long, he decided; but for how long he would think on it, push it aside for another day? malthos did not know. ” they won’t. “

      his lack of words likely wouldn’t be entirely comforting; but the shenk'ari’s priority was safety. but he couldn’t continue further with vic in this state—hurriedly, he ducked into an alleyway, which was only so deep but deep enough to keep them from the streets.

         ” i’m not leaving you, “ malthos reinforced, half-propping vic up against a wall. a clawed hand carefully rose to force vic to look him in the eye by the chin, resolute.  ” do you hear me? i am not going to leave you, no matter what. even if it means i have to put a thousand holes in those imperial bastards, that i have to fight endlessly; i will not leave you again. “

           being propped against the wall was somewhat relieving, the break from moving giving him a chance to try and straighten his head, and catch his increasingly shallow breath. how dizzy he was, tired and pained ⏤ he felt like he was going to die. typical thinking of withdrawal, and not incredibly likely unless it took a turn for the worse. even so, paired with his emotional state ; it was nothing short of agony. 

            he remained quiet for a good long while, joyless eyes peering into malthos’ and searching for some shred of hope in them. happy as it made him to be near the other, he couldn’t relish in it now, his misery and newfound shame drowning out all other feeling. he’d joined the venatori to be something more, to have more people in his life, to find a rush somewhere that kept him clean after all the work he’d gone through to get there. malthos was there for it, knew of all those decisions, and now he was witnessing vic after failure, pushed back to square one. vic almost couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. 

          at least malthos knew the right things to say. such words were usually just what vic needed to hear, though this time ; they didn’t bring quite as much comfort. slouching forward, he allowed himself to lean into malthos, with his face resting on his shoulder. he wanted to rest, for the world to shut up and leave them alone for a moment. arms gingerly wrapped around malthos, and a quiet sniffle could be heard as he tried to compose himself. ❝ how can you be so sure ? ❞ he asked lowly, hopelessness seeping through in his tone. ❝ i thought the venatori were safe, too. i was so sure. but now ... ❞

stranger things sentence starters !

       vic’s answer comes in the form of a still-friendly frown, his eyes narrowing at shaeva as he lets out a small sigh. ❝don’t be foolish, now.❞ he insists, lightly bumping her shoulder with his elbow. ❝just ‘cause you’re leading doesn’t mean we don’t get to worry about you. it should be you we’re worried most about.❞ leading must be a stressful thing, he thinks, one more burden to add to the list of difficult things. hopefully his companionship and frequent jests are enough to ease things now and then.

She stopped, mirth fading from her everpresent smile as she looks at his things. As convenient of a distraction as it was, and an easy way to evade his questioning yet again – not out of need for secrecy but simply for want to make him work for an answer – but more than that, she was reminded of how … careless Fereldans could be when it came to manners and cleanliness. Travellers especially. After it became clear he had not placed them down for just a moment or two, she asked delicately, “Surely you don’t meant to place your weapons there of all places?”