Decwsx
silentstephi:

HOLY SHIT IS THIS ACTUALLY IN THE GAME?!?!??!?!

silentstephi:

HOLY SHIT IS THIS ACTUALLY IN THE GAME?!?!??!?!

spicyshimmy:

kassa-fabrication:

a zev from my sketchbook

Greetings from Antiva.
The sky of late has been very blue, but not as blue as I am without you, my dear Warden. Do you see how poetic I am in the wake of my prior epistle, which was more bawdy than lovesick and heartsore? And here you may have been thinking to yourself, “Poor Zevran; he has lost his touch.” Not so—for though you have not felt it, I have been practicing said touch for when we are together again.
On myself. 
Ah, that was very subtle, yes? Perhaps you flush to think of it, or of the sun upon my skin, but I assure you—here, where the days are bright, it is the shadows that impart a certain privacy, a certain warmth. I recall the darkness of this city, how dull the colors once were, how resigned I was never to care for the gray curl of smoke above a tannery or the flash of a red bird’s wing in sudden, furious flight. 
Now, when I see that smoke, I think of the frost upon your furs, while the red bird’s wing is the color of my sudden, furious heart, filled with blood and the thought of you. And the shadows—ah, the shadows. I am fond of them, recalling the shadows you cast upon me in the earliest of mornings, before we faced, together, the freshly fallen snow.
Yours,Zevran

spicyshimmy:

kassa-fabrication:

a zev from my sketchbook

Greetings from Antiva.

The sky of late has been very blue, but not as blue as I am without you, my dear Warden. Do you see how poetic I am in the wake of my prior epistle, which was more bawdy than lovesick and heartsore? And here you may have been thinking to yourself, “Poor Zevran; he has lost his touch.” Not so—for though you have not felt it, I have been practicing said touch for when we are together again.

On myself. 

Ah, that was very subtle, yes? Perhaps you flush to think of it, or of the sun upon my skin, but I assure you—here, where the days are bright, it is the shadows that impart a certain privacy, a certain warmth. I recall the darkness of this city, how dull the colors once were, how resigned I was never to care for the gray curl of smoke above a tannery or the flash of a red bird’s wing in sudden, furious flight. 

Now, when I see that smoke, I think of the frost upon your furs, while the red bird’s wing is the color of my sudden, furious heart, filled with blood and the thought of you. And the shadows—ah, the shadows. I am fond of them, recalling the shadows you cast upon me in the earliest of mornings, before we faced, together, the freshly fallen snow.

Yours,
Zevran

nickelbackthatassup:

no emoji in the world can replace the depth of :/

perahn:

The patterns and the habits of a slave
Are all he knows for endless, painful years
And even once he runs, he can’t behave
As though he’s free; he’s driven by his fears.
The choking hate he raises as a wall
So none may see the pliant slave within.
He tries to raise his eyes and to stand tall
With mage’s shackles carved into his skin

make me choosemahariels asked human noble or dalish elf origin

We are Couslands and we do what must be done.

Tonight you will eat fish. Tomorrow, you may die.
Okay Moiraine thanks for the peptalk goodnight then (via stillwaitingformyadventure)

f-t-n-m-desu:

notcreativeondemand:

Literally all of these are accurate for my life

This is totally me…. cries

ask-koki-kariya:

suprarationality:

The Fault in Our Stepbrothers

Megan?Megan.

ask-koki-kariya:

suprarationality:

The Fault in Our Stepbrothers

Megan?
Megan.

I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me.
Joshua Graham (via msndobrev)

…That’s your name.

One day I’ll remember; I’ll remember everything that happened. The good, the bad. Those who survived. And those that did not.