#duxbellatorum

[cookignis]

-tells u about his lyrium addiction, tiddy out-

@duxbellatorum

Tiddy out while listening to his lyrium addiction ways and taking mad notes like whisper in my ear papi

[dreadeds-blog]

‘ It wasn’t eavesdropping . ‘     A small smile quirked his mouth. ‘ Well.    Perhaps a little . ‘

@duxbellatorum        /        s.c.———accepting here

[mabariisms]

I LOVE YOU MORE THAN I LOVE MYSELF (this is completely IC???)

                  (  * Excited Barking ! * )

[ Dog is hopeful that this means the Commander Cullen won’t be angry with him for getting drool and dog hair all over his bed !  (...how he got up to Cullen’s bed? Another mystery for another day.) ]

[hissrading]

CALLOUT POST for @duxbellatorum

pretended to eat out zevran and got caught by his gf

[snowball-with-knives]

late but those tags are because i mean all of it D: you're great, and I have very sentimental feelings about you as a person because you've been nothing but supportive and positive to me and everyone else, and I adore having you on dash so much that i'll follow you on blogs that aren't even in DA. You're great, and I wish so many good things for you, and I mean it

[lyriumgriffons-blog1]

There’s blood everywhere!

Kieran glanced around, wondering how he could feasibly explain the mess that also coated his armor.  ‘It wasn’t me’ would be too blatant a denial for anyone, let alone the former Knight-bloody-Commander of Kirkwall to swallow.  The Warden toed one of the corpses lying near his feet while his mind raced, trying to come up with an explanation, any.

“… Oops?” the word slipped out almost unbidden and Kieran wanted to kick himself for the utter failure of an eloquent reply.  He took a deep breath, “What I mean to say is… they started it, I was merely defending myself.  By blowing them to the Black City and beyond.”

The saving grace was that he’d used a perfectly legal spell.  Walking Bomb on its own was messy, Virulent Walking Bomb was on a completely different level.  Useful, but it made cleaning up a hell of a lot more difficult.  “Now, was there some purpose to our wandering, or did you just want to stand here and stare at me?”

[paragein]

The contract was supposed to be easy enough. Blond, blue eyes, young, six foot two inches, well-built, Fereldan, military, found in Kirkwall at the moment. There was also a rough sketch that was of no help, considering the skill level was... lacking. Basically your generic, cookie-cutter Ferelden poster boy. Like those weren't a penny a pair.

This one seemed to be right. His mark was supposed to be a Seeker, according to the contract, and not a Templar, but the rest was right. He chalked it up to stupidity on the contractor's end; couldn't tell the difference between the two, apparently. He fell into an easy pace behind the Templar, shadowing his steps until he diverted into an alley, where Levi followed.

The armor would make it trickier, Levi decided as his hand moved to rest casually on the hilt of his sword under his cloak, but not impossible. A quick insertion into the neck, bared above the armor. A small window, but doable.

His steps quickened as he rounded the target with barely a whisper of metal as the sword was drawn; he used the side wall of the alley for momentum, pushing off it with his foot to slam the both of them into the opposite wall. But just before the blade cut into neck he'd bared with the heel of his hand on the victim's chin, he caught sight of the eyes. The dim light didn't lie: they weren't blue.

"Well, shit," Levi said, stepping back and looking distinctly unruffled, like he hadn't just tried to cut open a Templar's throat. "I thought you were someone else."

@duxbellatorum

[eromai-blog1]

@duxbellatorum

Russians, in Dite's experience, always had the most encrypted phones. Of course, that was based on her experience with Russian cleaners—Bull, specifically—but Russians did lean to a paranoid, suspicious nature. In any case, an encrypted phone was the reason Dite was expected to unlock it by hand. The phone owner's hand, more specifically. All she had to do was slip him the tranq and wait for it to take effect, unlock the phone with his thumbprint, and download the information. So Dite seamlessly replaced the hooker he had ordered in his shitty Moscow hotel.

She hated Moscow. It was always too cold.

Agent Leandros was in the adjoining room, listening over the tiny earpiece tucked behind the shell of her ear and hidden by her messy Russian-call girl style hair. She already put the tranq in the arms dealer's drink. She had about twenty minutes before it took effect, so she was dragging out the wait before letting him lay his greasy Russian hands on her. At the moment, she was pretending to be freshening up in the bathroom.

"Have you ever had borscht?" she murmured to her ear piece, speaking softly so the john wouldn't hear. "I'm not a fan of Russian cuisine. Blini are delicious, at least."

[queenmakcr-archived]

🍸

MOBILE MEMES » NOT ACCEPTING

SEND 🍸 FOR A DRUNK TEXT

BIG BROTHER ❤️ » dhis party sux !!!! the drinx r lousy, the music sux and the boys r like gropign and weird and uhglyBIG BROTHER ❤️ » cnan u plx pcick m up??? if ur ntot busy andn tlell them ur m boyfrirend pls  ❤️❤️❤️

[lawbrcught-blog]

CALLING U OUT FOR READING TIDDY FICS BRUV

“ ... ”

“ Shit. ”

[xaedificare]

“ no, if i’m honest, i have no idea what i’m doing. ‘

ariadne still felt light-headed, her hand tingling with the magics she knew next to nothing about, and a partially healed hole in the sky that everyone insisted she was the only one who could fix.

it was hardly a wonder she had a headache.

she sat on one of the fences near the external walls of haven, her knees hugged against her chest, chin resting on one as she looked out over the valley, frowning. the weight was a little overwhelming.

naturally, she had to make some jokes about it.

“ but i figure no one else does, and that’s not stopping them either. “

[fadewalking-archived]

duxbellatorum for the url thing?

Send me a url and I'll answer the following;; - Accepting @duxbellatorum

Opinion on;

Character in general: Ah, Cullen. I really admire his similarities and differences to Solas, actually. If you think about it, they are rather profound. Opposites as they may seem, they are both quite militant, and they both seem to value doing what they think is right above even their own personal welfare. How they play them: I’ve not read too much of their interactions, but from what I have seen: Very IC Cullen. The Mun: I have never spoken to the mun before, but I am sure they are a great person.

Do I:

RP with them: I have notWant to RP with them: Yes, should they also want to.

What is my;

Overall Opinion: I am perpetually curious as to how Solas and Cullen would interact, and I would jump at the chance to play with them. 

**Note: Mun’s answer are all to be completely honest. Don’t send url if you don’t want brutal honesty

[loveardently-blog1]

“I was born with a rare disorder that prevents me from experiencing humour.”

GRAVITY FALLS MEME || accepting!

" My what a travesty. I certainly would not wish to bear such a burden since birth. I cannot fathom a worse fate than a lack of humor. ”

Kia gave a pause, brow raised as she waiting to hear any sounds. Any sort of genuine reaction from the man before adding, “ That was a jest, Commander. I cannot see but you certainly can learn to laugh. ”

[mageright-blog]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GET IN BABY JAIL

nice chantry it reeks of combustion and also like fuck u and you can’t catch me copper

[lamabilite-queue]

what the FUCK does the inquisition want with me

[vuulpecula]

5. things you didn’t say at all

send me a ship and one of these and i’ll write a mini fic | accepting | @duxbellatorum

       Trust me. Easy to say, harder to do. Trust involved something less sturdy than knowledge, it required hope. One did not easily earn hope after they’ve fallen from a tear in the sky into the ashes of the conclave. Trust me. Trust me. Trust me. Fox had wanted to tell them all that, but she was their prisoner -- their murderer, their destroyer. And the sky bled demons from its oozing wound. There was no time to speak, they had to fight, not knowing if the greenish light that emitted from her hand would save them and close the breach. Although, she herself did not know if what the elven mage had shown her would work on such an immense scale. When the others looked to her, the words fluttered into her chest. Trust me. She had hope, but she could not count on the others to bear the same. 

      I understand. Many were still skeptical of the woman marked Inquisitor, but a few gave her their trust in due time. Cullen remained guarded. He observed, he gave his confidence little by little. He helped train the young woman who’d been fighting all her life for something more. He honed those skills and Fox understood what it meant. He was doing it for the good of the Inquisition. The Commander was a good man, a strong man, he’d seen hell. It took days to uncover this small piece of information and even then, it had to be pried out word by word. She understood. She understood. She understood. 

      Forgive me, I am so afraid. The fortress was cold; those at the gates were left there as the Inquisition journeyed inside. Fox listened, but she sensed something was off. There was a darkness there, one that pooled and swirled in the pit of her stomach. She wished to send word immediately that something was wrong, but the doors shut too quickly and the men began to die one by one on their brother’s blades. The Templars, if their brave Commander could’ve seen them as thus, would he still be so brave? Then came the demon and its tricks. Enviously it infested her mind, the single piece of herself she could still hold to, and there they were. Her trusted advisors. Fox knew, she knew the words they spoke were not their own, that their bodies were dark manifestations of the people she was coming to know as friends, yet, when it was done, when she was free, her mind still remained captured. A prisoner to the memories left behind. Even as she wrote the report, her body seized with fear. They would read it, they would all read it. Not once could she look upon Leliana’s, Josephine’s, or Cullen’s face as they informed themselves. Fox fled to find solitude and when the Commander found her, for he was best versed in the mentality of a tortured mind, she broke apart. Millions of tiny fragments, crushed by the weight of it all. Reality and the picture painted by the demon melded together. If she failed, there would be nothing left. They would suffer because of her when all she wanted was to take that suffering away. She’d wanted to scream at him how terrified she was, to ask his forgiveness for being so weak, but instead, she managed only a shaky: I’ll be fine. 

      Save yourself. The fight came too early; they were unprepared. Haven was going to burn. Fox saw him at the gates, she saw the fear in the Commander’s eyes ( and all the others ) when he looked upon the hoard that headed toward them. A plan was pounded out roughly, as quickly as it could be. The trebuchets. They were their last hope. She could see the words poised upon his lips, to stay and help, but he was the Commander. He was her friend and she would not risk his life. Not now that the wretched creature who claimed himself a god had surfaced to take what he thought was his. “Go, take the people, lead them to safety.” Fox had shouted at him over the roar of a thousand racing heartbeats. Her hand was on his forearm, urging him away. The others needed to be saved, but she had to have him do so, for he needed to be saved as well. 

      Survive. Death was expected. Fox’s actions were risky; as the Inquisitor, she sent the others away and faced the monster and his pet. How she had survived... Andraste must have truly been watching over her. When she woke in a cavern made of ice, she wasn’t sure she could move. Would it not be easier to close her eyes and sleep? Thedas would continue, it would be ripped apart, but it would continue. Words floated back to her, words from her advisors, from her companions, from her friends. They taught her how to survive and survive she had to do. Bruised, broken, and battle-scarred, she made her way toward a whistle of air until she found the source. Then she dug. She dug until her fingers all turned red and bloody and then she dug some more. It was dark now. A thick blanket of snow covered the rubble of Haven and it continued to fall. Wolves howled in the distance. Fox stumbled on, finding burned logs every once in a while. The snow had erased all tracks, but the dark, ashy pieces stained the flakes black where they tried to fall. Then, in the distance, fire. She had found them once again. She had survived. Fox could not feel the furs that were quickly wrapped around her when at last she fell to her knees, mere meters from the tents. She could not feel the arms that raised her out of the snow or see the face of the man that carried her, but she knew his voice and she understood what it was saying. You found us. You found us. Survive, she wanted to tell him in return. Survive. 

      Smile Commander, it’s all part of the game. Their new home took up much of her time after the journey from Haven. Together they worked upon the castle until it turned into a picture in their minds. For a brief period, there was an illusion of peace that washed over each and every one of them -- but it was short lived. For politics reared its ugly head at the Winter Palace and the Inquisition could not sit idly by when Corypheus was sure to make his next move. Josephine taught them how to play, but the game was much different upon the marble floors of the place. Dangerous, yes, but also fun. Once in the halls, as they walked side by side after speaking with an old general about the Duke, the Commander was approached by a small group of ladies. They fawned over him and for once, the Inquisitor could fade into the background. No one asked her how she was, no one pressured her for what she would do next, or worried her with memories of the Seeker Fortress. Fox could relax, and she did, watching as Cullen became flustered and uncomfortable. Smile, she’d wanted to tell him, for the game, she would’ve said. In truth, his smile was warming. There was a comfort within in that reminded her of dreamless nights at Skyhold -- when fear did not invade her sleep with its icy hands. Perhaps it was for the game, but it was a different sort of game. 

      I’m still falling and I can’t stop it. Adamant Fortress. Fox had seen the look of trust within the Commander’s eyes as she left his company to continue into the Warden’s lair. It gave her the strength to fight. A fire was ignited deep within her and she would not let him down. Not again. Not like with Haven, when so many of their men and women died. Everything went according to plan, they were winning, but then the dragon appeared. A creature all feared to be an archdemon. It attacked and the weight of the massive beast and the magic used to harm it, broke the fortress. And she was falling, falling, falling. The Fade opened; their survival. Within it, the truth was discovered, and one was left behind. Andraste was not Andraste, she was not the Herald people believed her to be. Then the choice, the choice to leave one behind. It was a burden too heavy on her heart. She screamed to stay, to help, but she was dragged back into the realm of the living by those who survived. When she again saw her advisors, she wished to fall at their feet. She wished to beg for their forgiveness, for she did not have the strength to stand, knowing she would again fall. Since Haven, they had very little loss, and now it suffocated her. Guilt was a deep pit, but it was one she could not voice. 

      Keep yourself safe. Battle was more frequent as they neared the end. The Arbor Wilds were filled with demons and nightmares alike. Corrupted creatures of the fade followed their master into the lush greenery and all fought. He was the Commander of the damn army and yet when she looked upon him, for perhaps the last time, Fox wanted to beg him to keep himself safe, but she knew what he’d say in return and she wasn’t quite sure she could promise him she’d do the same. 

      Do not weep. It was to be the end. Her hand pulsed with green light as a squire helped her into her armor. This would be the last time, she told herself. It had to be. They had the knowledge that it took to defeat the creature that plagued the land. A magister out of place, out of time. Josephine came first, she hugged Fox so tightly, she worried a rib had cracked. Then came Leliana, who whispered of secrets and bow skills that would surely aid in the fight. Finally, came Cullen. His hand on the hilt of his sword as if he too planned to join her. Already she had fought all of them to stay behind. “Maker preserve me,” he began, but she cut him off with a gentle hand to his cheek. Offering up an encouraging smile in return. Never had she lied, yet now, she shared with him something she did not yet know was the truth. “I’ll return,” only the Maker knew if it was true or not. Fox hadn’t wanted to lie, she wanted to tell him not to weep, to not mourn her if Corypheus did what he set out to do ( or she died killing him ), for it would tear her apart for him to hurt further. And so she gave him hope and trusted that he knew how fragile it was.