#dovwahlaan

[vattghcrn]

@dovwahlaan​ || starter!

    “Can’t recall the last time someone bought me a drink without wanting something.” Barring his pool—no, PUDDLE—of friends who gained some shitty reward of his company, more or less. But he doesn’t know this woman: least beyond immediate recognition of the UNNATURAL glint of her stare pinning her as something more than what met the eye. And yet he sits with her, still. While the rest of the common folk getting their daily fill provide a wide BERTH that once upon a time could’ve wounded the witcher’s ego.

    It’s not really there, anymore. He doesn’t give the slightest DAMN.     And just might find some satisfaction in being LEFT ALONE.

    “So, do I keep waiting for you to blindside me with some OWED favor, or wanna just be straight and tell me—?” Hostility is void wholly in his reply, merely expressed as a fact he can’t help but assume. His stare levels hers, and the slow cock of his head illuminates CURIOSITY. “Could skip a step, then. Maybe even spare you a coin or two.”

[ivakir]

5. would you hug your muse?

* INTERVIEW THE WRITER

   After some thinking I realized that despite that Ivakir is very unpleasant person, she still deserves a hug. Maybe she will become better after this.

[chmpn--a2]

@dovwahlaan​  :   places a soft kiss for your boi right here

Hm? Oh, he's melting. Her lips press to his, ever so softly, and his eyes fall closed. Garrett's hands come up to cradle her jaw, his thumbs stroking tenderly over her cheeks as he returns her kiss. It's just what he needs. If they were to part, he fears that he might fall to pieces. While still soft, he dares to deepen it, and his hands move so that his arms can wrap around her and pull her close, holding her against him. "I love you," he thinks to himself, which causes the corners of his lips to twitch into a small smile. Can you feel how much? All of this warmth inside of me that you invoke? Surely you do. I'm yours.

[chmpn--a]

@dovwahlaan​ sent:  ✒︎     /      x !

There's a burn scar just under the right side of his jaw, hidden (for the most part) by facial hair. It's from an accident that involved magic and that's all he'll say about it. He doesn't divulge that it's there, but it's visible when he throws his head back to laugh. Point it out and watch as he grows self-conscious about how he turns his head.

[takivvatanga]

@dovwahlaan cont. from here because i love mya and i love louise and i have no self-control

Mya’s eyes don’t frighten her. Nothing frightens her anymore, these days. As if she’d used up a lifetime’s worth of fear during those hellish weeks of imprisonment, felt it and felt it and felt it until it simply ran out. She hasn’t been afraid since. She hasn’t felt much of anything, since. Where once there was fear, only anger remains, anger and stubborn defiance and fierce determination to make things change. To make things better. 

Being angry is good. As long as she is angry, she doesn’t have to grieve. Louise thinks about her father, and her face darkens. 

“My Dad didn’t want me out there messing around with weapons. He always said to me, Louise, just make sure you treat other people like you would want to be treated yourself and you’ll never have to worry. My Dad was a fool.”

The young woman kicks at a rock on the dusty ground, sending it flying into the fragrant, blooming bushes that line the roadside. A small bird flies up, squawking indignantly, darting away into the shadows of the trees beyond. 

“He was a damn fool who got himself killed trying to rescue-“ she casts an inquisitive glance at her companion out of the corner of her eye. She has never told Mya the whole story of what happened, what made her abandon her old life, only hinted at events here and there, made it clear that she has good reason to act the way she does, to speak the way she speaks. Good reason to be angry. What if she told her? 

No, she decides. She’s not ready to share the whole, entire, ugly truth, the truth of her own failure, her own mistakes, how one stupid impulsive decision loosened a landslide of calamity on herself and her father. 

“...someone”, she concludes, nodding her head, running her hand across the crossguard of her weapon. 

“He went off to rescue some stupid girl who got herself into a hell of a lot of trouble, and got killed for it. After he died, that’s when I learned how to fight. Because I told myself, Louise, you ain’t going to go down the way your old man did. You’re going to do your bit to make this world a safer place so others don’t end up like that. Like…that girl did. Like my Dad. This world is full of monsters, wherever you look, there they are. And I can’t be havin’ it. Not like that. I’m going to make a difference. Nothing wrong with that, yeah? Nothing wrong with wanting to make things change. So I went and apprenticed with someone. Someone willing to take me on and teach me. I suppose I did learn some things, even though he turned out to be, well, a fraud.” 

She walks on in silence for a while, stopping briefly to readjust the straps of her backpack. It’s weighing heavy on her shoulders, but not as heavily as the memories do. No point dwelling on it, she tells herself. Head up, eyes forward, shoulders back, and keep on moving. It’s the only sensible option. 

“If you want to be a knight, then what’s stopping you? I’ve seen people pretend to be all sorts of things, to the point where other people had no choice but to believe it because they believed it themselves. What is a knight anyway but some fancy armour and a fancy shield with a coat of arms painted on it? No offense to knights, but – most of the ones I’ve met haven’t been doing terribly much at all. From what I’ve seen, you’re easily as good as them, if not better. And you’re a person of action, to boot. That’s what people can respect. That’s what I can respect. You’re solid, Mya. You’re not just empty talk like most people. You’re not like most people, full stop.”  

[daenfireys]

@dovwahlaan​ said: ‘ i always understood you, and you always understood me. ’

the violet eyed queen smiled both with her lips and eyes at the taller warrior who she had grown to trust and perhaps even adore to some mesures. she was always interesting with her stories, but perhaps dany just liked hearing her voice.

                   “ Is there something you want to tell me Mya? ” a playful eyebrow rose as a her smile turned slightly into a cheekier one than the softer one.

source.   /    semi-accepting.

[soulsofnirn]

FARKAS sat on the steps of jorrvaskr, there was a light dusting of snow, though most of it had melted by now. the air was piercing cold, it didn’t bother him though. he had one of vilkas’ many fur coats draped around him, maybe it was his way of feeling like his twin was there. it made him think of their childhood, if it could really be called that, where he would lend his belongings to his brother, to calm him, keep him warm or keep him feed. vilkas had always been top priority for him, he just wanted to make sure he was okay. he had definitely not been himself at all that day, it was like his heart had stopped or a part of him was missing. he was nothing without his brother and it took him leaving to realise that. not every thing they had been through together, it was in this moment. it must have been midnight at that point but he didn’t really care, he looked up at the two moons, wondering if vilkas was also looking at them. he had volunteered to go out and look for him, he didn’t care what it took but mjadveig was right, they were better in numbers. a part of him knew that his brother didn’t want to be found, it made him sad and wondered if it was truly his fault that he left. maybe he was thinking of staying, not going through with kodlak’s dying wish and that him getting angry at him was what the push he needed to leave. there was no way that farkas was going to get any sleep tonight.

he didn’t even know of his fellow companions saw him leave, he just lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, a million thoughts racing through his brain and it got too much, so he saw no point in lying there if he wasn’t going to sleep. so, he figured that the fresh air would calm his nerves but it seemed like it made them worse. who knows what could’ve happened by then? he wondered if the silver hand had gotten a hold of vilkas, just like they had kodlak and if they were going to walk into jorrvaskr and rub it in his face. though, they hadn’t felt his wrath yet. he couldn’t afford to think like that though, he had to think that vilkas was okay and that he was going to come back but that thought always crept back into his mind. he took a deep breath and ultimately was lost in his thoughts, riddled with worry for his brother. he would do anything to bring him back. he blamed himself for all of it.

he wasn’t expecting mjadveig to actually approach him, he simply looked at her with tired eyes.

@dovwahlaan​~

[theharellan]

1 + 2 for the modern au headcanon prompt

Modern Thedas Headcanons | Accepting | @dovwahlaan

1. opinions on the following things: ugg boots, electric scooters, starbucks, shaved sides haircut, selfie sticks, beanies.

Ugg Boots: He cares for them as much as he cares for any shoes, which is to say very little. As boots go they look more comfortable than most, but you couldn’t pay him to wear them. He doesn’t typically wear shoes unless there’s an expectation that would make his life more difficult if he didn’t (think Halamshiral), and when he does he prefers sandals. Generally when he sees ugg boots they’re on students who are wearing sweatpants and comfortable tops so he can at least appreciate the general sloppy aesthetic they cultivate.

Electric Scooters: I’d say he’s neutral, the only scooters Solas has any opinoin about are the scooter companies popular on the campus he works at, after they were made popular students tend to just leave them anywhere in the path when they’re done.

Starbucks: He doesn’t drink coffee, unlike tea it doesn’t offer any benefits he needs and it’s even more bitter. Adding milk and sugar is a waste of both. Their other drinks are passable, but there are better places for hot chocolate. He rarely goes of his own volition.

Shaved Sides Haircut: He likes them, although in his case they were just a stepping stone on the road to shaving his head completely. Solas has lived through the memories of Orlesian women with foot-high wigs and remembers the strange trends of Elvhenan, the fact that they’re a trend hardly registers in comparison.

Selfie Sticks: He’s never had one himself, as one of the tallest among his circle of elven friends his arms are usually the designated selfie stick (unless @ancientimpudence is around) . As an invention they seem innovative, they don’t strike him as vanity run amok or a symptom of a decaying society because self portraits have existed since the invention of the camera, only the process was far worse and more expensive. He’ll take the modern selfie.

Beanies: Probably the sort of hat he owns the most of, all of them have self-made ear holes.

2. how is their social media presence?

Sporadic, he doesn’t use Facebook and has two Twitter accounts. One lies inactive for most of the year and mostly exists to occasionally tweet about current politics, the second is exclusively for art or photography. His Instagram account is much the same, filled with recent creations or photos of his travels. He does have a Youtube account, and has created several videos that focus on discussing common historical misconceptions, especially about Elvhenan and Elvhen history. As Youtube videos go they’re on the dry side visually, he’s not a video maker by nature and has other hobbies he’d rather dedicate himself to over editing. Most of his internet use is for research purposes, and before the advent of social media websites he probably was a member of a forum or two.

[eclipsecursed]

SHE SEEKS SOLITUDE PREFERRING THE LONELY WOODS OVER THE BUSTLE OF HUMANITY. she’s made camp a few miles outside of the nearest village, and it’s by choice after hearing the madness and mob mentality following the attacks from a wyvern. renfri had decided rather quickly that she would rather spend her night in isolation and away from civilization. her desire to be alone is interrupted by the sounds of someone stumbling through the trees. her eyes narrow, hand drifting near the hilt of her sword in case she must defend herself. it drops to her side once she sees who is coming towards her. a girl, wide eyed and afraid from the looks of it. clothes entirely too big for her frame, renfri suspects they have been stolen. 

“you alright there?” she questions, minding the venison that she’s roasting over her fire. she glances back over, shaking her head. stupid question, clearly she’s not alright. “i won’t hurt you, you can sit by the fire and warm yourself.” @dovwahlaan​

[ofrxvia]

@dovwahlaan​

This wasn’t an unusual contract by any means. Draconids were rare, but they were still monsters that he hunted. Dragons, on the other hand, even kings couldn’t pay the cost of hunting one of those. He had asked around the town, and they made mention of a beast flying about the area, and the description they gave seemed to him to suit a Wyvern. The coin they offered was just enough to make this worth the hunt, so Geralt accepted. And soon he was riding north, to the wilderness where the beast was supposed to have its lair.

Roach was left tied off the road once Geralt figured he was far enough north. Indeed, there were several signs of a beast prowling the area, and now Geralt moved on foot. His silver blade was drawn, and before he ventured too far he coated the sword with oil made specifically to burn a draconid from the inside out. Witcher’s oil’s always had a nasty effect on the beast they were designed to counter, and it was always worth using them, even if the mixture was annoyingly difficult to brew.

The Witcher stalked through the underbrush, those keen golden eyes constantly searching for further sign of the quarry. But the scent was varied, and there were no signs of kills anywhere. There wasn’t even a pile of dung to associate with a Wyvern. This was unusual, and the Witcher grew ever warier. The populace could have seen the wrong creature, but he wasn’t even seeing sign of another type of monster. Geralt kept his pace steady though, almost entirely silent as he stalked through the forest. The only reason he kept going was that the scent of a Wyvern was around. 

[hawkeyde]

@dovwahlaan​ said:   “ nice moves. “

HAWKE BEAMS AT THE STRANGER,   struck by the sudden praise.   ever the proud first born.     the champion flips his axe upwards, plants the hint into the ground, plops his hands atop it.          ❝  thank you !!  you should see my dance moves. ❞

[seahaloed]

[ flower ] for your muse to offer my muse their favourite flower || @dovwahlaan​

He started to notice them appear, randomly. He’d assumed that they’d somehow gotten wrapped up in his things while they traipsed through the wilderness. Sprigs of lavender, or a handful of daisies in his pocket. Nothing to denote intended placement.

Not until he began to notice a vase appearing in his room every so often did he even begin to suspect. Peonies with soft pretty petals that seemed to crumble if he so much as touched them. They were too sweet for him, and he often placed them in Sigrun’s room. They seemed to last longer in there, and she appreciated them.

(he didn’t want to ruin something so nice looking)

It took him a few days to notice it. A small pot that appeared on his shelf that was a few bulbs, with thin green sprouts climbing out of them. This was a gift, but no one had said anything. He took to watering a tending to them and very nearly killed them in the process, but with some coaching from Anders of all people, Nate learned how to water them. They had been daffodils, and they bloomed in a brilliant yellow. They seemed so out of place against the dreary grey of the keep’s walls.

“I suppose I should thank you for the daffodils--” he tells Mya rather suddenly. He’s dressing to head back to his room for the night. He smiles a knowing smile before pulling his shirt over his head, He takes a few steps forward, resting a knee on the edge of their bed.

“May I return the favor?” he ventured, waiting a moment for her to nod before he stood up properly again to find where his belt pouches had gotten thrown to in their rush. From the pocket, he retrieved a single clipping from a carnation. Winding his way over, Nate settled back on the bed a moment before holding it out to her.

“I couldn’t find any roses, but I thought this might be just as well. It’s still red, after all...” he manages a small laugh.

[chmpn--a2]

@dovwahlaan​ gets beetle!

Beetle is a simple dog. An intelligent dog, capable of unimaginable carnage, but simple. Beetle sees a nice person. They are friends now. Hello, new friend! He humbly requests a scratch behind the ears! When he sees the predicament that the human is stuck in, however, he whines. Why are you stuck to that tree? Who did this? Ears go back and he makes a sneezing noise. Perhaps he should go get his human. His human understands other humans better than he does. Worry not, tree human! Beetle's got this!

[rekakrola]

☾ What is their favorite and least favorite thing about the night?

⚜️. 

favourite: no one can see him, & he’s alone. he can be vulnerable, worried, sad; sneak about when needed, do what has to get done under cover of shadow.

least favourite: no one can see him, & he’s alone.

[gulldrengur]

@dovwahlaan​

                              “𝑰 𝑪𝑨𝑵 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑪𝑯 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝑰𝑻 𝑴𝒀𝑺𝑬𝑳𝑭.”

“Yes, I cansee” he replies sarcastically, not only was his horse impatient but also himself. He stares how the DOVAKIN struggles to reach for her own mount, trying to grip the reins the best she can and jump to sit on her horse properly, the warrior sighs and emits a soft chuckle, the vision is just something he’ll not wish upon anyone. “Just let me help you and we can arrive at Whiterun in fewer days.” he pats his horse to ease him “we have so much to do and you are being stubborn, and you still need to visit the monks.”

[warringpeace]

STARTER for @dovwahlaan​ muse: g.oddess | verse: s2

While she’d spent the past few centuries locked away in Hell, she hadn’t forgotten those she’d known before her imprisonment. Although both of them had taken on different forms since then, their auras were the same. 

She’d expected to see a new client that day. Instead, she was hit by the overwhelming sensation that she’d seen her before. She was reminded of fire, ash, and brimstone, and her memories brought her back to a dragon she knew before the great floods and famines. “Mya.” It was a name she hadn’t uttered in a long time, but the more she looked at the girl, the more sure she was. The question was whether Mya recognized her or if she really was there for legal advice.