#scvcnofswords

[blightworn]

🍒- for berthindeath and yourself 🗡🗡🗡

positivity meme | always accepting!

@berthindeath: bree is soooo talented; their writing is beautiful and devastating (shoutout to @vowspurned for gutting me with every post) and i looooove our conversations about our barbies so much. just an all around wonderful person to write with and talk to <3333

myself: tbh i'm proud of myself for coming back and diving in and reaching out to people and being so open and willing to talk to others. i genuinely haven't acted ANYTHING like this since 2013, and the reception has (mostly) been very positive, and i'm appreciative to everyone following me for being wonderful and receptive to my freak!!

[chaos--mode]

Ren can absolutely not manage to keep a straight face once the spells and daggers stop flying. she's usually not quite this jovial when she's dragged along into the Hossberg Wetlands. too wet and muggy and uncomfortable warm, in a way that she does not like.

but right now Rook is covered nearly head to toe in muck and, well. maybe she's just a little bit childish, because it's funny, all right, leave her alone!

@scvcnofswords, for their part, does not look pleased with the situation. ❝ just don't tell them you saw me, because this is embarrassing. ❞

she bites the inside of her cheek in an effort to stifle the worst of her grin. it doesn't really work. she reaches up to try and help them clear a bit of the sludge from their face. at arm's length, of course ; Ren definitely doesn't want to get any of it on her. not more than she has to, at least.

❝ you got knocked on your ass mid-fight, ❞ Ren offers, a weak olive branch considering she's still barely managing to keep her laughter to herself. ❝ that's not really embarrassing, is it? ❞

she supposes it's less that Rook got blasted 20 or so feet, and more that they landed right in the deepest part of the mud swamp they'd been fighting right next to.

&. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. ( currently accepting! )

[thedaschosen]

PROMPTS FOR GESTURES AND MOVEMENT  / ACCEPTING /  @scvcnofswords  asked :  shrug and salute from harrow to illia

( ⌺ ) // GOLDEN EYES OBSERVE EACH FACE BEFORE HER. she's met with understanding -- some sharp with seriousness, other's warm. then, there was harrow. giving a rather exaggerated and humorous shrug before a quick salute of respect. a light huff escapes her, grinning back a laugh with a dip of her head.

" harrow ... what am i going to do with you. " she smiles fondly in a whisper -- knowing the other was perfectly capable to handle the mission at hand. they would all be split up for now, but would reconvene further ahead. if all goes to plan -- this would all go smoothly. but when has that ever happened ?

[immortalmuses]

@scvcnofswords sent: ‘ all time ever does is pass and all i ever do is remember . ’ (regin to the iron bull)

ㅤㅤㅤThe Iron Bull uncurls the mountainous slope of his back, straightening up from where he's hunched over the grinding wheel with his axe in hand. He hums acknowledgement to Regin's words, tilting his head to better consider her with his good eye.

ㅤㅤㅤ"... We had ways of handling that under the Qun, y'know..." Bull says, absently testing the edge of his axeblade with the pad of his thumb, "If one of us couldn't leave the past where it belonged, we'd... submit ourselves for re-education."

ㅤㅤㅤHe'd done it, perhaps more than once. The Qunari has a hard time remembering, sometimes. Swinging his freshly sharpened weapon in a practice arc, The Iron Bull asks, "What's brought this on, Boss? Something in your past distracting you from our delightfully apocalyptic present?"

[circlefled]

'what stands out about my portrayal' - honestly just the sort of sheer artistry to how you write; you paint pictures with the internal dialogue that's honestly so engaging and lovely to read, and it strikes so viscerally. every emotion you put your characters through reads in a way that you can channel that feeling, and really experience the moods and scenes you're bringing to life

What is something about my portrayal[s] that sticks out?

gonna be honest here i've re-read this one a few times and every time it makes me smile so big. I'm glad you enjoy reading all of the spirals i give this man because they're a joy to write.

[berthindeath]

@scvcnofswords asked:

Regin's already there, when Gwen returns. Honestly, how she always knows things- always has such perfect timing- she's never told, but she's sitting in Gwen's room when the necromancer enters in- rises to tug the other woman to sit with her. She doesn't say anything- but she does pick up a brush from the table, and start carefully running it through Gwen's hair, picking out any leaves or debris that had been caught in it from the other woman's excursions, and carefully-so very gently- undoing any tangles. The blonde storm-mage doesn't say anything for a long few moments- but she does reach and squeeze Gwen's shoulder gently, and begin to quietly hum, after murmuring. "If you want to talk, I'm happy to listen. But if you just want to exist- that's fine too. Door's locked." You don't have to be strong, indomitable Rook. It's just us. When she's finished detangling, she takes a small bottle from the table as well- a hair oil, smelling like cherries and cinnamon and cedar- and runs it through the strands, before carefully beginning to braid, starting at one of Gwen's temples, and working her way around- joining it to a matching braid she creates on one side, before starting again slightly lower with the same process, and then another, thick braid with the rest of the length. She ties off each braid with a silver metal piece, glinting in the light of the aquarium and sconces. When her hair is done, Regin tugs, gently, so she can hook her chin over Gwen's shoulder, wrapping her arms around the other woman from behind in an embrace. "I've got you."

It's silent, the entirety of this moment. To be loved is to be seen and with Regin, there is no escaping the radiance of her affection. Their friendship had been a surprise, Harding having introduced them purely out of desperation, as a means to turn the tides of this conflict. But what bore of it was a companionship unlike one she's ever had. While she loves her companions, they've become like a family of sorts to her, her bond with the elven woman is something else entirely. One forged so swiftly, yet so strongly, that they've already reached an unspoken understanding with one another.

She needed her now. And here she sits as if she'd manifested her into being. It left her throat dry, her eyes burning almost immediately before sinking onto the lounge chaise at her side.

The attention that's paid to her is foreign; the way Regin's delicate fingers sift through the tangled mess that had been her hair, an act of care that has her heart thudding in her chest and her eyes swelling with tears she begs not to shed. Exhaustion lives in her bones, unable to remember the last time she truly slept for more than a few hours at a time.

She is tired. But not just from the burdens of her calling.

The other woman's words finally hit her ears, permission granted to just be. To exist. To feel. And it's in that moment that a tear slips free, trailing down the swell of her cheek as it sinks beneath her curve of her chin. She still does not weep, it is not felt in the entirety of her body but the veneer has cracked. The oil's fragrance stirs her senses and she can feel herself to start to choke up. Fingers ever so gently slip perse strands into a braid, but Gwendolyn is overwhelmed. The care, the gentle quiet of existence, it has her chest jumping, her chin trembling as she finally just lets go.

" I may lose him, Regin. " She whispers painfully, finally. Expressing something she's held in her chest so tightly ever since the ambition had left his lips. How she'd kept it in her heart, not showing just how terrified it made her. Who is she to tell him the direction of his path? To tell him that it frightens her at what would become of them if he were to go through with it. Could she wipe the horrors clean? Could she forget the flesh torn rot of the hand that rendered her flesh sullied? To replace it with his that would be kinder, despite the unbearable likeness?

Lichdom.

She feels the arms that weave around her, the comfort of her touch as she feels her chin fall to her shoulder. She feels safe here, for once as her hands lift to grasp at Regin's arm closest to her so that she might rest her chin against her arm. Her heart breaks, and breaks, and breaks as she leans forward, taking Regin with her as she lets out a weak cry.

" Am I a selfish thing? "

[abanbas]

@scvcnofswords asked: "I fear the past melancholy is returning."

NOSFERATU (2024) directed by ROBERT EGGERS.

Sitting down next to them, Sire as per usual, took his sweet herbs and began packing them into his pipe. " Melancholy is forever, just like all feelings, we just cycle through whatever ones help are brains get it." He lit the pipe with his pinky before shaking his hand, as if he'd actually get burned. "That's the wonderful thing about things. They all pass, new things come and old things stay just how you left them, like a rock needing turning."

They lay a hand on Harrow's shoulder before smiling, puffing smoke butterflies into the air, leaning back on his palm to see them better. "But right now, you feel it right?" He turns to them, furrowing his brow. " So then, tell me...What's the old melancholy telling you?"

[howetragic]

❝ The past can bind a man as surely as irons. ❞ (litriu mahariel)

I Don't Keep Track of Memes I'm a Mess @scvcnofswords

Nathaniel's eyebrows rise in agreement.

He should know. He's been bound by both, quite recently. The former does linger even longer than the bruises from the latter, of course.

"And which one binds you harder, Hero?" he asks.

[fatalexmonstrum]

“ The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ” (regin)

"Once upon a time, someone told me you could tell a person by the character of their enemies." She remarked with her usual deadpan. "Of course, they're dead now, so."

Killed by her own hand (allegedly) and left to fade into dust and memory as time left them behind. Ancient history. Literally.

"I suppose they mean you are far more capable, or whoever is against you is inept? I dunno."

A shrug. Mildly amused eyes hidden behind the smoked lenses of her glasses.

"What I do know is that you're not living life right if you don't have at least one person wanting you dead..."

[blightworn]

💌💌💌💌💌

@scvcnofswords | oc positivity meme: always accepting!

aaaaaaa so many thank you!!

@berthindeath: I LOVE GWEN SO BAD !!!! she's such a strong and embodied character that has so many well-defined sides to her that i'm really excited to explore!!

@abanbas: SIRE SIRE SIRE !!! niko has a really special character here. i love him, he loves so deeply and wears his heart on his sleeve, does his best but is fallible as everyone else. he feels REAL in a way that just. ugh. chef kiss.

@prophetries: EVELYN IS SO METAL!! i'm not really a huge fan of the inquisitor as a base character so tbh i didn't think i'd really care for an inq muse but ugh.... i love her so much. she's unwell...

@ymirgel: YMIR IS SO FUCKING COOL 10/10 would let her glare me into oblivion bc im weak. i love her manner of speech a lot

@theodosiani: FRAUKE AND BIRDIE!!!! ugh. cheating here but i can't help it they have amazing characters!!! i love every headcanon and thought about them, i read them Avidly.

[ymirgel]

Black moon, bow and arrow, crescent moon

🖤 BLACK HEART — what would you say is the darkest thought you've ever experienced? what do you think caused you to have that thought? have you ever planned on or fantasized about acting on it?

well. what immediately comes to mind is, and what i eventually plan to turn into a drabble, is ymir's breaking point after witnessing the catastrophe wrought upon minrathous. exploring the streets. seeing the devastating consequences of her actions. it tips her over. she's seeing through the red lens of justice. ymir hasn't lost her composure like that in a while. it's the fact she couldn't protect these people, that she failed to do so, she succumbed to enacting severe vengeance. she didn't plan this to occur, nor fantasized about it. but did, in fact, act upon instinct. another thought i believe she would harbor is prior to the war of banners, she and her old rival, Dáinn, engaged in fierce combat. has she fantasized about humiliating him through dampening his pride? yes. planned for it? not at that moment. that man burrowed under his skin so deeply, ymir refused to give him even a second thought. even to consider shattering his skull under her boot is expending unnecessary mental energy on a pitiful excuse for a necromancer like him.

🏹 BOW AND ARROW — if there's something from your past that you'd give anything to go back in time and redo, what is it?

this i have thought of for awhile, and i believe that i'd love to explore this (especially with another mourn watcher). ymir yearns to learn about her parents. she doesn't know of them that well. and while it is beyond her control, she wishes to redo whatever had her parents decide to leave little ymir in the necropolis in an attempt to save her life from the horrors encroaching upon her parent(s). she wishes to experience a normal life with her family, a secret dream she keeps to herself.

🌙 CRESCENT MOON — what would you say is your current biggest dream and/or career aspiration and why?

to regain trust with the mourn watch through protecting the veil. defending is all ymir knows and will ever know. she is a nationalist first and foremost. her life for her kingdom. her life for the undead. ymir believes she cannot attain a 'normal' life no matter how much she yearns for it. her mental scars run too deep to turn this dream into a reality. if she is to die, it is on her own terms. and it will be in the underground arena, where the most senior of reapers can ascend into guardians of the Necropolis: the undead valkyries.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ⸻ @scvcnofswords

[thedaschosen]

MAKING DEMANDS  / ACCEPTING /  @scvcnofswords  asked :  go rest. i'm not asking. (Regin to Taran)

( ⌺ ) // HEAVING BREATHS ACHE AT HIS LUNGS, a sheen of exhaust filming at his skin. brows furrow, calloused hands tightening across wrapped leather across the hilt of his spellblade in determination -- " no ... i can continue -- " i'm not asking. her sternness hits him with a blink of surprise, a rare tone that was used with him. there's a temptation to argue -- stubbornness at the tip of his tongue as lips part, brows briefly knitting together with confusion. " ... alright. " he subsides -- shoulders drop in defeat, clipping the hilt to his belt as the already flickering magical blade disappears from existence. feet drag across grass, moving to slump upon a tree stump. muscles scream and burn -- letting a hand swipe back loose black locks with a sigh. hands meet as forearms balance upon his knees-- rubbing at his palm, new pink rimmed blisters already beginning to form.

" i can't seem to balance my focus ... " he admits, frustration narrowing at his eyes as he stares harshly at his palms. his reluctance to learn the basics of casting since he was thrown into ostwick beginning to catch up with him. he had never thought about the intricacies of magic before the inquisition -- always casting out of survival than precision. but he was grateful to have a great teacher beside him.

[chaos--mode]

@scvcnofswords embraced the chaos : ❝ i know that you're trying. i see that you're trying. ❞ (from Regin Lavellan)

it feels almost invasive, for someone to say something so piercing to Ren. and, like, someone as big and important as The Inquisitor, capital ❛ i ❜ ? Ren wants to sink into the depths of her chest and crawl underground.

she huffs and crosses her arms instead, fingers fidgeting with a loose thread in the sleeve of her tunic. ❝ i'm ... it's not a big deal. i'm here, and we're helping, and ... that's all there is to it. ❞

it's really, really not. Ren isn't going to ever say that out loud, though.

&. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. ( currently accepting! )

[fadewalking]

As we say at my renn faire group: HAPPIEST OF BIRTHS TO YE and as for Solas, from Regin: A small leatherbound notebook- filled with transcribed elvhen songs passed down from the Dales and the earliest days of the Glory Age- before the exalted marches. In the margins, in Regin's careful script; 'these are old 'walking songs' that I've come across in my own travels, mostly from ruins in the Dales and Sahrnia. Perhaps you've come across some of them yourself in memories of the Dales and before- but I thought perhaps some might be of interest. Not all of them are explicitly 'Dalish'- particularly pages 4, 16, and 22- my personal favorite is the very first one. There's also some from the Free Marches in the last pages, and one from Antiva. Happy nameday, Solas. And at the corner of his desk in a box to keep it from going stale, a sweet almond croissant made in the orlesian fashion, and filled with frangipani.

It's Solas' Name Day (kinda) // @scvcnofswords

It was one of the most surprising gifts of the evening, if for no other reason than the sheer amount of time the Inquisitor must have devoted to it. It flattered him.

He thumbed through a few pages.

The Elvhen words used were imperfect imitations of his dialect. Not her fault. That came of the Elves of the Dales as they held on to what he had destroyed. He could correct them and show her, as a gesture of his gratitude.

Then he flipped back to the very first page. He would start there, with her favorite one. As he read, he absently released the sweet from its holding and ate. Orlesians could do something right. Maybe this age did have its merits.

[oakthcrn-a]

‘they have made their choice. I shed no tears for them.’ (regin lavellan)

song of achilles // accepting // @scvcnofswords

𝑨 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑾𝑵 𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑴𝑬𝑫 𝑨𝑪𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑺 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑭𝑹𝑬𝑪𝑲𝑳𝑬𝑫 𝑭𝑨𝑪𝑬. She shook her head, and a stray curl of coppery ginger hair bounced free as she did so. She reached up to tuck the strands back into place behind her pointed ear. She slowly sheathed her blades as she looked at the massacre before them. Venatori agents had tracked them in attempts to snuff out their lives in service to the elven gods. They paid for that service with their lives. 

It must have been the look on her face that stirred such a statement from the Inquisitor. Lark's sapphire hues shifted to the other, and she studied them in silence. 

❝ 𝐀𝐡 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐛��𝐭 𝐚𝐡 𝐝𝐨 𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦, 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐡 𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬. ❞ She replied before turning to the lifeless bodies, she bowed her head and silently said a prayer to Andraste for them. 

[berthindeath]

i would be annoying and bomb all ur inboxes but i've decided to be nice: but this is for All your blogs: ☆ put this star into the inbox of your favourite blogs. it's time to spread positivity! (x10)

I love you so much. You are my favorite human on the planet. My twin flame, my heart. I would not be here if it wasn't for you. I can't wait to be talking about our idiots when we're 80 and in the same nursing home (we'll make it happen) ride or die my love.