vorashvan-a

[vorashvan-a]

ARCHIVED MOVED TO @vorashvan

[vorashvan-a]

ARCHIVED MOVED TO @vorashvan

all asks/threads/drafts will be moved over!

[vorashvan-a]

OK.... i think i'm going to work on moving bel to her own primary blog because the lack of functionalities i can use on a sideblog is getting on my ever-loving nerves. also, she deserves it. so!!! im gonna bop around.

mutuals absolutely feel free to msg here or on discord at mei4387 ! just lmk who you are!

[vorashvan-a]

Lost in thought

[vorashvan-a]

[vorashvan-a]

you want to go on a crazy fade adventure with bellara so bad. you want to get stuck with her in a fade bubble for days. you want to get sucked into a crazy fade tear and end up 1000 years in the past and have to find your way back. YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO!!!!!!

[vorashvan-a]

January 22, 1925 Journals of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]

[vorashvan-a]

dude minrathous just caters to me so hardcore........its like a stupid little fishy gotham city.........COMPLETE with its very own batman! by the way! im exposing myself as a dc comics fan but it's just.......delicious.......i blighted minrathous first purely bc of the logic w/ treviso's blighted waters but this time around i saved it and im FERALLL

[vorashvan-a]

me skipping into one of the champions' battles on three times the difficulty as my last playthrough 10 levels too early: 😁

[vorashvan-a]

(trying to flirt) can i be your problem

[vorashvan-a]

use this generator to create headcanons for your muse. post 5 to 10 results you agree with!

This character is not allowed to drink energy drinks.

Is a top. (you know what. I SURE THINK SHE CAN BE!)

Does not know what sleep is.

Almost drank the lethal dosage of caffeine once.

Can't sit in a chair properly.

Has an incredible long-term memory but an awful short-term memory.

Is awful with kids. (exception re: manfred. deals better when she realizes they're essentially tiny stupid inquisitive adults.)

Is not the greatest with social cues.

Stole a lollipop at the checkout when they were 5 and they still feel guilty about it.

Insists on trying to summon a spirit at every sleepover.

[vorashvan-a]

Bellara huffs a little to herself and leans back further into the cushion. She's trying not to break her very serious expression, even when she hears Neve's quiet pealing laughter from across the sofa. This was criminal! Unfair!

"Fatally, huh? You sure sound wounded," the elf grumbles, the hint of a grin cracking her face to her absolute displeasure. She turns a little to look at the detective wryly. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but it sounds to me that there was a little bit of a chance that you wanted to." Bellara wheedles a little bit, beaming at the other woman and this newfound back-and-forth game of theirs. "What's a girl gotta do to get honor around here? What's your price?"

Conspiratorially, she leans over and whispers, "I do have a loaf for khachapuri proofing in the kitchen." She shrugs a little too casually for someone who's essentially bribing a detective. "Just putting that information out there..."

neve laughs at the way bellara's nose scrunches, how she makes a face that is probably meant to be annoyed, but sort of just comes off as adorable. not that she doesn't think bel could do serious damage if she wanted, but because she knows she wouldn't (and that in itself is a novelty worth ruminating on).

and then she's being goaded and she knows full well that she's being goaded. bellara calls her nervous- makes her out to be a coward. as if not sliding across the chair to sit with her was somehow a black mark on her brave status. she pats her shin to beckon her closer and neve settles her with a knowing look.

" if you think calling me a coward is the best way to get me to do what you want, bel- you're going to have to do better. " now it's a game. now she's zeroed in on the fact bellara is being purposefully obtuse. " even if i did want to, you've insulted my honour. i'm wounded, bel. wounded. maybe even fatally. " she doesn't look or sound particularly wounded.

[vorashvan-a]

[ defend ]

NON-SEXUAL ACTS OF INTIMACY: accepting.

Pain explodes behind Bellara's eyes instantaneously when the massive Hurlock throws her like a rag doll and she tastes warm copper on her tongue. It had been her fault, really, too distracted with firing off arrows at the blight boils that would keep spitting out Darkspawn lest they were destroyed. A split second of distraction was more than enough time to let the monster grab her by the torso, claws digging and piercing through leather and skin, enough to hurl her clear across the former meadow.

"Shit," she mutters to herself. Her body doesn't want to obey commands. It rises sluggishly, as if rusty and grating. Neve's voice calling out registers distantly in her mind. Where was she? Bellara looks up and sees the blurry approaching Hurlock and the hair-raising screech that echoes through her bones. Was it one, or two of them? One, two, one, two, one, two, one, tw—her hand reaches for her arrows and she finds none. They must have been scattered in the air.

Panic and bile sting the back of Bellara's throat. There's the ominous dark purple charge of a Fade ability glowing at her gauntlet but she's not going to be fast enough. Instinct takes hold and all she can do is put her arms up to shield the incoming smash of a hammer—

It never comes.

She opens her eyes. Neve stands tall and protective over her, like a statue, arms outstretched with the teal remnants of glacial magic. The Hurlock hovers less than an inch away absolutely frozen solid. Mythal'enaste, Neve looked powerful. Docktown was so lucky to have her. Pushing against the rock wall behind her to stagger upwards, Bellara's about to say thank you and maybe something else incredibly stupid—

Their only warning is a subtle crack in the ice shell, but it's enough that Bellara catches it from the corner of her eye. The Hurlock shatters its encasement and the hammer comes swinging once more towards Neve this time—Bellara bodily shoves (half-falls, in her case) both them out of the path and immediately twists her arm back to blast a massive Fade portal that sucks the Hurlock into the ether.

It closes just as fast. There's no sound except for Bellara's harsh breathing, the niggling thought that her bun is falling out, and that she should really roll off of Neve.

"Are you okay?" The Veiljumper asks first, worriedly, propping herself up with a wince. Despite her obvious injury, she scans Neve first, her eyebrows pressing together in the middle to make a worry line. "I should've—" Bellara stops, inhales, and shakes her head. No. She wouldn't beat herself up over it. No. This wasn't Cyrian all over again. She wouldn't have let it get that far. Never again.

Her eyes open again, earnest and warm. "I'm glad you're okay, Neve."

[vorashvan-a]

kind of obsessed with the banter series where taash is like “huh you’re not bothered by killing people even when it’s not personal” and harding is like “oh well one time i was told to kill this old wolf lurking around the farm, but i felt bad for it, and then it savaged the lambs. which i had to put down myself. so i learned young that a quick kill prevents more suffering! that’s why the inquisition hired farming people as scouts, because the scouts were required to kill people who weren’t our enemies personally or trying to hurt us. :)” i guess none of that is news and at the same time there’s so much to unpack

[vorashvan-a]

Sparring/Training Sentence Starters

Requested by Anonymous

“Come on, then! Hit me!”

“Your stance is all wrong.”

“Am I doing this right?”

“I feel like I’ve been chewed up, spat out, and run over repeatedly.”

“Get down and give me 20!”

“How many miles/kilometers are we running?!”

“Hey! Watch where you’re swinging that!” 

“Nice punch! Now do it again!” 

“You won’t hurt me, I promise.” 

“My grip feels off…” 

“Have you ever used a(n) __ before?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you…” 

“I think I’m going to feel that tomorrow.” 

“If you can lift me up, then you can lift these weights just fine.” 

“On a scale of one to ten, how much did that hurt?”

“Here, you put your feet like this…” 

“Relax. I’m trying to help.” 

“Can you teach me how to __?”

“God, we stink.” 

“Are you doing okay?” 

“Are you alright?” 

“If I do fifteen push-ups, can I be done for the day?” 

“Come on! Another round!” 

“You can win this time!”

“Work your angle a little more and you got it perfect!” 

“What are you doing up at this hour?” 

“Where did you get that bruise?” 

“Hey, no, stop. You’re going to break your fingers punching like that.”