#ꜱᴏʀʀʏ. ɪ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ.

[bxynjolf]

what type of anger do you have?

seething rage

all you see is red. you're not too loud, but you don't make your anger silent either. you'd never tell them you're angry, but their friends will whisper in their ear about you. if they tried to come and talk to you, you'd probably yell at them. you hate them with everything you are.

tagged by: no one! do the meme!

[bxynjolf]

her eyes , brilliant like malachite , he’d once said , never leave his as fingers interlock with his own. each shallow breath he takes is a dagger piercing deeper into her heart , a wound that she knows will never heal. though she does her best to maintain composure , calm , if only for his sake. still tears stream down her cheeks as she leans in to kiss him one final time , forehead resting ever so sweetly against his. there’s desperation , she fights hard to conceal , present in her touch. she doesn’t want to let him go , she isn’t ready to say goodbye. gods help her , she’ll give anything for more time. “ i love you ,” she says , as if it were the first time she’s said it aloud , her love as steadfast now as it had been the day he’d proposed , “ … may we meet again, in the clearing, at the end of the path. ”

[ saved. ]

[bxynjolf]

“Keep talking, and I’ll seriously slap the shit out of you.”

▮▮▓▓ ancient meme from literal years ago ! // closed.

❝ S'pose I've got a spot on for who poured vinegar in your tin this fine evenin', ❞ Brynjolf's grin does not falter, even in the wake of Mercer's sharp words. Instead, he bellied his mischievous efforts with a wink, splaying his hands over the ledger to cover the scribbles as he leans in, emerald eyes ablaze with joviality. He'd not often press Mercer's nerves like this, but when a business opportunity arose, so did his inkling persistence.

❝ But, please. Patience, Mercer. This is quite the potential for our operation, if you'll lend me an ear rather than your palm. 'sides, you'd not want t'damage such fine goods! Who else would greet our darlin' matron of coin? Delvin? She'd sooner pluck his eyes from that blooming, bright bald head of his like a starved Saber mid-freeze than take on his patter. ❞

[bxynjolf]

❛ i say nothing. i know nothing. i certainly don’t remember a thing. ❜

》》 the low road, is it? // for @luckydxy

❝ Aye, lass— ❞ Brynjolf’s lips twisted into a notably mock-expression of pity. Simpering words are thick with his honeyed accent. Although his hands were splayed before him, the very ‘misplaced’ ring had long since found its way in the inner lining of his sleeve. It’d been a clever little addition to his fine garb. ❝ I can’t say I’ve seen a thing either, loyal guard. ❞

Head canted ever so slightly, the Second of Thieves made no effort to disguise the sweeping glance through the Market, silently noting the few other meandering souls. Not many would interrupt this impromptu opportunity; that lonesome Lioness looked to have directed her poking charity projects elsewhere for the time being.

Excellent.

His gaze then turns to the other, inviting her into his mischief with silent amusement.

❝ Perhaps that wee trinket of yours will pop up elsewhere, eh? Maybe even…..for the right price? ❞

[bxynjolf]

𝘞𝘏𝘐𝘊𝘏 𝘎𝘙𝘌𝘌𝘒 𝘎𝘖𝘋 𝘋𝘖 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘚𝘏𝘈𝘙𝘌 𝘝𝘐𝘉𝘌𝘚 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏? [. . .]

Hermes

You literally were born and then invented mischief. Like, you were a newborn and you immediately invented thievery and then lying. Go you. You are the living embodiment of chaotic neutral. Yes, people are so annoyed by you sometimes, but you are so unbelievably charming that you get away with everything. Who doesn't love a charming rogue?

[bxynjolf]

SONGS TO WRITE WITH : ( sOURCE )

whether it be melodies that give you inspiration for your muse or songs that get you into the writing mood—pick 10 songs you find to give you the urge, the drive, or the creativity to write for your muse—then tag your favourite peeps to get an insight on their musical inspirational feels.

i. fast talk - Houses  ii. human - rag’n’bone man iii.  thief - imagine dragons  iv. best day - atmosphere  v. no money - galantis vi.  feel it still - portugal the man vii. come with me now - kongos  viii. here - alessia cara ix. breezeblocks - alt j  x.  take me out - franz ferdinand 

TAGGED BY :  @firsnotfurs <3 TAGGING :  @ulfhrafnx , @gvildmastcr , @hemoplagued , @prophecyveined , @broughtmagic , @summergilded , @ofhighever , aaaaaaaaaand all y’all ! ! 

[bxynjolf]

❝ The thing that worries me the most is that you’ve been in the hole so long, it’s become home. ❞

                some ancient meme i lost whoops┊ @ulfhrafnx

          And from the festering pit he’d taken shelter in, Brynjolf smirked. Naw, the gesture was not laced with jest and giddy; it was bitter and sardonic as it carved a sarcastic path through rugged features. 

                                                    ❝And? ❞

         He didn’t intend for his upset to rise so easy. Rare was his temper stretched, even rarer was it that his petty wrath was directed at her. Yet, the barb had caught a thorn in his chest and tore it further. There was no sense in feeling so curt. No rightness in the wrong surge of ill feeling. Nah, his spirit didn’t move like it once had. Hadn’t in awhile. Perhaps it was mere worry. He’d confess he’d not been short on that with Mercer’s peaking paranoia; had he less sense, Brynjolf might’ve fretted the bitter thing would be bolting. Wee bastard had lined up his resources in such a way, distanced himself from local assets, even pulled funds from previous projects he’d once insisted as priority—–

         Silence somehow shrieked louder than his previous, shrill jabs. 

         He’d not worry about it. He couldn’t afford to. Mercer’s abrupt despondency could be (loosely) summed as no more than a temperamental play, one of many even. Surely, the sorry sod had never stooped to such extremes but….there was always a first.

         ❝Aye, you pursued this hole-ridden rat, you know? Dog me all you like, pretty lass, but I’ve made no cover from where I hail. Can you claim the same, darling? ❞ 

[bxynjolf]

bold the ones that apply to your character. italicize the ones that apply on occasion/situationally.

absent minded  |  abusive  |  addict  |  aggressive  |  aimless  |  alcoholic  |  anxious  |  arrogant  |  audacious  |  bad liar  |  bigmouth  |  bigot  | blindly obedient  |  blunt  |  callous  |  childish  |  chronic heroism  | clingy  |  clumsy  |  cocky  |  competitive | corrupt |  cowardly  | cruel  |  cynical  |  delinquent |  delusional  |  dependent |  depressed |  deranged  |  disloyal  |  ditzy  |  egotistical  |  envious  | erratic |  fickle  | finicky  |  flaky  |  frail  | fraudulent |  guilt complex |  gloomy |  gluttonous  | gossiper  |  gruff  |  gullible  |  insecure  |  insensitive  | lazy  |  lewd | liar  |  lustful | manipulative |  masochistic  |  meddlesome  |  melodramatic  | money-loving  |  moody  |  naive  | nervous  |  nosy  |  ornery  | overprotective  |  overly sensitive  | paranoid |  passive - aggressive  | perfectionist |  pessimist  |  petty |  power-hungry  | proud |  pushover  |  reckless  | reclusive  | remorseless |  rigorous  |  sadistic  |  sarcastic |  senile  |  selfish  |  self-destructive  |  shallow  |  sociopath  |  sore loser |  spineless  |  spiteful  |  spoiled  | stubborn |  tactless  |  temperamental  |  timid  |  tone-deaf  | traitorous  |  nonathletic  |  ungracious  |  unlucky |  unsophisticated  |  untrustworthy  |  vain  |  withdrawn  | workaholic.

TAGGED BY . my bae @firsnotfurs TAGGING . @edhelgund , @ulfhrafnx , @woeblades , @ancientsung , @prophecyveined, aaand last but certainly not least, one cool dude @selfishisuppose <3333

[bxynjolf]

WHAT  COLOUR  IS  YOUR  SOULMARK  ?

brynjolf  : orange

out of all the colors, people with an orange soul color are the most social. they are happiest around people and prefer to be out partying than sitting at home on a friday night. they are never short of friends and get to know people all over the world.

orange soul colored people are always looking to excite themselves and often do dangerous or thrilling things to feel alive. they are heavily competitive and excel in sports and physical activities. they rarely self reflect, preferring to stay in the here and now instead of dreaming about the future.

dealing with an orange soul colored person is pretty easy. they don’t hold grudges over simple things and prefer not to judge others. in fact, they’re most likely to ignore stereotypes and befriend anyone that will talk to them, regardless of sexuality, race, gender, or mark.

due to their nature of never wanting to settle, they never stay committed to something for long, often bouncing from interest to interest. this causes them to constantly be looking for the next thrill, and they often grow bored with their environment quickly. schedules are not their strong suit. they are also the most likely to give up on something should it not give them a sense of purpose.

tagged  by :  @woeblades

tagging :  @ulfhrafnx , @firsnotfurs, @prophecyveined aaaaaaaand you ! 

[bxynjolf]

𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞  𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 — Brynjolf. 

alcoholism  .  amnesia  .  anxiety  .  appetite loss  .  binge eating  .  co - dependence  .  cynicism  .  defensiveness .  denial  .  depersonalisation  .  depression  .  derealisation .  devaluation  .  displacement  .  dissociation  .  drug abuse  .  dysphoria  .  emotional detachment  .  flashbacks  .  flat affect  .  guilt .  hallucinations  .  hypersomnia  .  hypervigilance  .  hypochondria  .  idealisation  .  insomnia  . intellectualisation  .  introjection  .  isolation  .  low self -esteem  .  narcissism  .  night terrors  . obsessive compulsion .  overeating  .  panic attacks  .  passive aggression  .  paranoia  .  phobias  . projection  .  psychosis  .  rationalisation  . regression  .  repression  .  restrictive eating .  risky sex  .  self - harm  .  somatization  .  splitting  .  sublimation  .  suicidal ideation  .  sleepwalking  . suppression  .  thousand-yard stare  .  triggers  .  trust issues  .   violence  .  whiplash temper  .

TAGGED BY : @woeblades TAGGING : @ulfhrafnx , @laststcnding , @herosbreath , @firsnotfurs aaand everyone who sees this :) 

[bxynjolf]

℧ hi kc i luv u

           ⇨.  ╱ ╱ fancy a chance meeting ? ┊ selectively accepting !

Brynjolf loses a bet to Elona.

                            ❝Fair win, lass.❞

     Despite the grueling loss, there is no bitterness in his expression. No sore loser would be spotted today in the Flagon; at least, not among the senior members of their sorry bunch of thieves. Had it been any other source, Brynjolf would practice some reserves. Delvin, blasted bastard, was a charming but well established pain in the ass. Vex could exercise quite the venom in her rebuttals too. Tonilia shared the same breathtaking toxicity, if pressed. Sapphire took her hands and dealt in shadows, all passive, all underlying, all mottled and muddled till her need for coin rose and her fingers would reach out like a vindictive Skeever. ‘Bout only other sod he felt his words could be laid out openly, with little repercussion that is, was Rune. He was a good, if bit too trusting man. 

    ❝Now, tell me,❞ the Nord murmured, a wicked smirk crooking his lips, ❝What does the victor demand of her spoils? We laid no boon before our wee gamble, you know?❞ 

[bxynjolf]

her heart is almost bursting with glee as he enters her sight . tripping over her own two feet , she does not hesitate to bring her arms 'round him , all the stress of the day leaving her body . he was her first friend in the entirety of skyrim , the first to accept her . " brynjolf ! did you bring back anything for me ? a shiny trinket , perhaps ? "

        ❝Ah, lass. I brought you the handsomest gift of all.❞

The urge to dip into a mock show of grandiose fun was quelled, though he did bring a hand up. Calloused fingers, nicked and scarred from too many picks’ soured spring, splay forward then. In that moment, his amusement is apparent. Although he fancied a toss about in the hay like any other lad, he’d never been too fond of public sentiment. Made his skin itch all uncomfortable-like. 

                  At least, it had. 

There was such an innocent charm to the bonnie thing’s touch. Like morning dew on a spring rise, there was no threat of that water drowning him. This was fleeting, as all things were, but genuine. A good contrast to the vast bunch he’d corralled over the months. He returned the embrace halfheartedly. One arm looped around her shoulders while his other hand splayed toward his roguish mug. 

                                                 ❝Myself. ❞

[bxynjolf]

"heart's day is tomorrow." noted rather blandly, gaze not once straying from the sprawled handwriting that collected on the pages of the ledger. "have any plans? aside from the usual market schemes, i mean." [i don't know what i'm doing but have this]

                    ❝S’pose it all depends, yeah? ❞      In a way, it truly did. What would Brahms, one skeezy bastard of a merchant, allow to pass through the tariff ridden bay of Solstheim to their awaiting mitts? What manner of mischief would their latest bloom of a recruit get up to---would a grave failure be scraped off the stonework or would a smug announcement of success be delivered with gold and a grin to Mercer? 

     What work could be shifted, delayed, or paused for a proper romp in the hay with that darling lass passing through the Bee and Barb? 

     Very little, Brynjolf thought, as brilliant, spring eyes roam idle parchment. So few hands could be spared. Now more than ever, really. Not to mention, their beloved sour-shaft of a cabbage Guildmaster never did seem to permit any recreation with the bonnie babes that passed through the Rift. Not that the Second of Thieves had evidence of this; more so, just a sneaking suspicion. 

                       So, his response is delivered with a prompt smirk. 

                    ❝You treatin’ a lad t'a round or three or what? ❞ 

[bxynjolf]

❝ that’s a fine looking high horse. ❞

    ┊┊╱  hozier meme / always accepting ! 

                       ❝How kind, lass.❞        There is no falter in his roguish grin, not even as he smugly continues. 

      ❝Handsome thing came from your pa’s farm, I believe. Or, well, one of them.❞ 

      Whether the creature was purchased proper or lifted from underneath a noble’s nose, however, was a different matter entirely. Brynjolf enjoyed his games. Games of mischief, of theft, of robbery: these tricks of the trade were not skills he’d let rust. Delvin’d have himself a right fit if he knew his pal, and by technicality ‘higher-up’, was risking capture over some pompous froufrou of a critter. 

[bxynjolf]

BOLD what applies to your muse.

alcoholism. amnesia. anxiety. appetite loss. binge. eating. codependence. cynicism.defensiveness. denial. depersonalisation. depression. derealisation. devaluation. displacement. dissociation. drug abuse. dysphoria. emotional detachment.flashbacks. flat affect. guilt. hallucinations. hypersomnia. hypervigilance. hypochondria.idealization. insomnia. intellectualize. isolation. low self esteem. narcissism. night terrors. obsessive compulsion. overreacting. panic attack. passive aggression. paranoia. phobias.projection. psychosis. rationalization. regression. repression. restrictive eating. risky sex. self-harm/self destruction. somatization. splitting. sublimation. suicidal ideation. sleepwalking.suppression. thousand-yard stare. triggers. trust issues. violence. whiplash. temper.

tagged by: @ancientsung <33

tagging: @ulfhrafnx , @maleficaes , @prophecyveined ,& @silvrsight ! 

[bxynjolf]

▲▽  ¦ ¦   wishlist starter ╱ @ofhighever

          Friend was a kind word to lay on his peer, but Brynjolf certainly held no grudge to the lad. The bawdy footpad was as easily swayed as weeds in the breeze; the fear of Mercer’s command surpassed that of the Second’s own firm warning. Blasted man-child was only doing his job, in the end.                        And, damn did the bastard give a damn valiant go at it. 

          Perverse steel had glanced his side. Poison was a nasty thing, nasty indeed, and the simple-minded soggy idiot had enough brains for the use of ‘em. He’d personally been no stranger to the lot either. He’d dipped his own in a rather fine sample before this flight, but this mix acted odd. Stubbornly vexing, he’d soon found the wound festering fast. Speckled and tawny, a creeping numbness had washed over him. Trickling down, inch by inch, a sulking sluggishness stabbed at sore muscles. Groggy, in a way, he’d downed what all he could to ebb its effect. He’d only need a bit of time, just enough to visit a proper healer. Few healing droughts, boosting elixirs, and salves crafted for mild injury had been hastily tucked away. However, there’d been no anticipation of using each in an attempt to curb this wretched ailment. Scrambling, every failure was marked by further symptoms. Had he time to dawdle in consideration, he would have plucked every blasted vial there was to be had.           By the third week, the unsettling numbness lifted, giving way to a vile, shredding agony that flared with every twitch of movement. His travels had maintained a steady pace somewhat, surely aggravating the cut. Although vexed, clumsy feet fell with the same determination as his ripe mind and body had before the unlucky excursion. Every labored breath marked one more step towards something. Hazy staggering was punctuated by delirious daydreams, mercifully. Not good, not safe, not secure in their feverish persistence, but it was a slight reprieve. Good things, good things to wave off the nagging listlessness in his crooked mind———           Cool Septims, gentle in their clinking and generous in their numbers, slid through his fingers. There was laughter in the distance. Delicately radiant, a bonnie lass, but her sensuous figure was just shy out of sight. An inconsiderate rap was at the door———Rap, rap, rap———Where was the door?            Jagged rock collided against splayed palms. When had the soil risen? Foggy thoughts pushed forward; he wrenched himself up from damp ground. He was seeking a door, where was the door?            He could hear it still. The thundering, clattering, ever constant steady rap,rap,rap———no, not a door. Couldn’t be knuckles. Too much like wheel——wheels from where?                                              And then pitch black.

          Brynjolf woke to the chipper gleam of a solitary candle. Set dashingly aside, faded yellows painted the scene with dim clarity. It was a darling cabin, certainly swept cozy and adorned lovingly with trinkets a-plenty. Had he been in a better state, his hand might’ve twitched at the temptation. Instead, he shifted upward. Stiff from rest, he could claim he was feeling infinitely better. Emerald eyes were no longer hollow with shadows. Vibrant hues of spring green were alight with acute awareness. The filth of his journey had been scrubbed away. Like the dirt that’d caked his very form, his wary leathers had been removed yet replaced in their entirety with lighter, sturdy cotton. Sat up, the once infamous thief gave a startled gasp. The sneering slash was not gone, not fully, and when pulled at the seams, incited the nastiest discomfort. 

         ❝ By the NINE, ❞ he hissed, hand instinctively moving to soothe the sore.