#HANDFULLS OF DIRT

[obstinaterixatrix]

so like you know this post

I really enjoy george hearn’s version of ‘epiphany’ in sweeney todd 1982, I think he does a great job with emotion, but jung han ryu amps up the emotionality to INSANE levels. he’s wailing, he’s shrieking, he is throwing himself at the ground, there’s this moment where like. if you’re familiar with the lyrics at all, there’s a certain action that corresponds to a certain lyric that’s pretty astoundingly staged. for epiphany the timestamp is 1:15:05. but honestly watch the entire sequence from pretty women, the way this production builds to the climax of the song is REALLY something

oh my god someone uploaded korean sweeney todd 2007 to yt. listen to me. what you need to do is, if you're not going to watch the whole thing, at LEAST go to around an hour in and watch the sequence of pretty women to epiphany to a little priest, you HAVE to watch the entire 20ish minute sequence. then you need to click the link to act 2 and if you're not going to watch the whole thing AT LEAST go to around 15 minutes in to watch by the sea (this is actually my favorite performance of by the sea FOR REAL) and then skip to 52 minutes in and watch pretty women (reprise). you have to do this.

[gil-notskajla]

AUs were meant for independent fanworks by fans who cant coordinate and agree upon all details like a studio or singular author would. They weren't meant for corporations.

[eeveeafraid]

i love having relationship trauma

[juggalomary]

did yall miss me. i hope you did bc im returning with a bang. anyways here’s this. warnings: mcd, child abuse. up on ao3 within a few days

A new day, a new disaster, that’s what soap would say. He was always an optimist. Never heard saying anything about how they were likely going to die on suicide missions. Even though it was so valiantly obvious. He has to be watching from his overwatch position right now.

Ghost was glad to have him on his 6. They’d been switching places more often, soap on overwatch and sniping the people trying to end his life. He never called out to him about these people. Sometimes they’d just end up dead.

He always knows it was soap though, who else could do that so accurately. Soap was the best of the best. He’s not going to let ghost die. He’s not that selfish, never was.

Soap was the best of the best, most morally sound. He held his religion above many temptations. Infil was filled with chatter most of the time, except for soap, running his thumb over rosaries and whispering to a power long forgotten by the other men.

Exfil, a shell shocked soap would sit silently, or wail for not his mother, or ghost, but for someone, god maybe, to end his suffering. He was already going to hell, that’s what a priest told him at 15. He confessed and was told his punishment.

Never repeating that confession to anyone else, in fear of rejection. At 16 he carried his older cousin's casket in between the pews of that same church. He got home and told to man up. He turned 17 and enlisted.

That led to right now, soap covering his 6 and ghost shouting for help. A bullet lodged into his spine, blood gushing from the wound. His screams would’ve revealed his position if he cared anymore. There was no way he would get out of this. He just needed to get to a position he could radio to exfil from.

The enemy must’ve heard his screaming for Johnny, there was no response from soaps end. He must’ve been comprised.

The thundering footsteps we’re getting louder needed to move.

He pulled his hands above his head, chin resting on the ground. Looking up from under his eyebrows he saw about 20 meters until cover.

Pushing his arm to unbend he grabbed for purchase on the grass. He needed to pull himself forward to get to cover. His legs proving useless he grabbed a handful of grass and pulls. It rips.

He keeps trying to pull himself forward, but with every futile grasp comes a handfull of dirt and roots. The footsteps grow louder. He can’t die like this.

He screams in pain and frustration. Johnny is comprised, he’s comprised. It’s a solo mission, he needs to call exfil there’s no price here to scoop his useless self off the floor. He could cry. He won’t cry.

He grabbed a rock and pulled himself forward a foot. That’s okay, he’ll to cover soon. He’ll stay awake, he’ll stay strong. He will not cry.

Another idea comes to mind. He pulls 2 knives from his kit and stabs one into the dirt to use as a sort of handle.

One foot at a time he drags himself to the tree line. Sitting up to access his radio he leans on a tree.

He calls laswell. He needs exfil. He needs to leave. He’s losing blood, but he can’t feel it, he’ll pull through.

His eggs were twisted in horrible ways, he didn’t feel that pain, but he also couldn’t move them. He’ll be okay, he can just rest his eyes for a few minutes. His eyes were far to tired.

Nothing from soap. Nothing from laswell, there’s no point in staying awake, he’ll wake up to the radio transmission.

His eyes fall open again.

“-nom, SIMON! COME IN!” A young woman was on the other side of his radio.

“Mom? Mom I’m scared, I don’t want you to leave me here with him again.” It seemed he was crying.

“Simon who’s there, I’m coming, we need to know where you are.”

“Mommy I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m in the woods mom. Please don’t let him find me. He had a bat mom.” Drearily weeping through the radio was not something that elete SAS lieutenants do. But his mom was back, he missed her so much.

She tried her damn best, especially since he was stuck with his bummy ass father. She tended to his wounds whenever she was sober. She took beatings for him when he was too young to know he’s a man and he should be taking it. She wiped his tears whenever he came crying. Somehow it wasn’t enough.

He still had his tooth knocked out, he still was given drugs before he realized what they were. He still had to see that sex worker die. He still has to kiss that snake.

Haven forgotten about that snake until right now the hissing in his ear was not of any relief. It should’ve, it would mean his radio was working. His hands were too heavy to really hit the button to turn it on though.

Tears were not allowed though. The snake was in his ear, not biting his lip, his mom was talking to him. And Johnny would be back soon.

“Ghost, Simon, do you copy.”

“Mom I’m not alone anymore”

Crunching could he heard, a dark figure approaching him. He had a pistol. He shot the gun, but the bullet shot right next to his ear. He let himself relax, foolishly.

The man in front of him was his father, but his face was skewed. One part of it was his father, and the other half was of price. The side with price reached out and told him to calm down and stay awake. Then price was gone and it was just his father.

He was screaming, not Simon, Simon would recognize who was screaming and it wasn’t himself. A blow landed on his head, he saw it but didn’t feel it. His father was standing there, his mouth was moving but he wasn’t saying anything. Then he hissed like a snake. Mouth open he saw the snake that bit him all those years ago, he started screaming for real this time.

The snaked closed is mouth and then said something in Spainish. This man was none other than a cackling manual roba. Scalpel in one hand he laughed. The scar on his ribs flared up as he was called every insult under the sun. He was told to not fear as, it would feel so nice soon.

Turning his head out of the grasp roba has on his face he was met with Vernon’s rotting skeletal face. There was dirt in his eyes, ears, mouth, nose. He was buried.

“GHOST!”

“Mom? Save me.”

“Ghost who’s with you right now.”

He opens his eyes, praying he can see at the end of this all. Scratched corneas would end his career, and his career is all that he had left.

In front of him, soap was sitting, thumbing his rosaries and mumbling a prayer. Without greeting he looks up. “Simon, I’ve missed you.”

“Ghost. I repeat, who is with you?”

“Johnny. Bye mommy, I’ll see you soon.”

With his final goodbye to the only person to truly love him, he can rest.

“Simon, I loved you too.” A Scottish lilt was the last thing he heard before the world went silent. He laid his head on the tree and closed his eyes. He hoped that Johnny was in the next 7 minutes. And price and Gaz. Maybe he can finally see them again too. Laswell will join them at some point. Then they can meet her wife. Maybe she’ll have kids after retirement.

He hoped he was happy.

-

Ghost was found 2 days later. Soaps rosary in his pocket and tear tracks running down his face wiping off the eye black.

Task force 141 was together, earthly and in spirit. Buried in the national cemetery one next to the other.

[chocolate-goouse]

I think it's high time I shared this guy I created called Tony.

Me and a couple of friends were playing Terraria, when I accidentaly said the word Worm 3 times trying to say that I had a handfull of truffle worms.

Of course, one of my friends made fun of me, and then I was possesed, launching into an ad that went like this; keep in mind I was saying this in a the strongest eastern tennesian accent I could muster.

"WELCOME TO TONY'S WORMS N' WORMS N' WORMS! BEST WORMS THIS SIDE OF MISSISSIPI. WE GOT PRICES THAT WILL HAVE YOU GAGGING UP DIRT BEFORE YOU CAN SAY WOORRRMMMSSS!!!! 1 BUCKET FOR 2 DOLLARS 3 BUCKETS FOR 10, AND IF YOU GIVE US 90 DOLLARS WE'LL GIVE YOU THE SECRET GOLDEN WORM!"

Then, of course I decided to expand on the Tony lore. Making him a delusional Worm obsessed weirdo who owns an abandoned bar in the woods where he sells worms. Then, I decided to play him in a dnd game, so of course I expanded more. Making him a middle aged, mildly insane worshipper of the Worm god, who blacked out after singlehandedly drinking a bar out of business. Losing his memory, all he could remember is a dream of the Worm god employing him as a Worm saint. Of course he has no idea about how to worship, so he's a barbarian with a bucket of worms at his side.

He then discovered he was a member of the IRS throughout the campaign. Thank you if you read this far, I yapped alot.

Other oc shit:

Mud brown eyes

Almost comically large trucker hat

Covered in dirt 90% of the time

Extremely long straight blonde hair in the back, he is balding in the front though.

He has a worm in his ear canal that tells him what to do Jimeny Cricket style

If you want a good description of Tony, imagine Android 13 except less handsome, and wearing a brown shirt, a jean jacket, and cargo pants.

[twofacecreations]

I've had a recent MHA idea in my head that I'd love to see as either a short story or a comic. If I have time I may end up drawing some skits.

Basically Izuku would have a moss quirk. This would basically make him a living mass of moss, fungi, and other plant matter with a soil core. He would look entirely human unless injured or eating. Although his skin would feel like soft beds of moss, when under stress it can cause rashes similar to poison Ivy.

He's capable of photosynthesis thanks to his green hair, but is incapable of ingesting normal food. Due to water and nutrients needing to be obtained through soil, he is capable of storing soil inside his body. Rather than having any type of organs , he uses the soil in a similar way to a digestive track. His mouth acts as a direct entrance and exit to his soil, and pouring water into his mouth allows him to water said soil. The same works for food.

As he is a moving plant rather than a stationary one, he would need to photosynthesize in peak conditions constantly to keep up with his body's demands. Due to this, he would not be able to 'digest' anything that would take a long time to decompose, as that is the only way for him to draw nutrients from his body soil. To combat this, he can either reject the nutrient deficient soil and replace it with fresh compost, or ingest decomposing mater. Constantly dispelling and ingesting bacteria rich soil; aswell as feasting continuously on decomposing animals, coffee grounds, rotting fruit, etc, would allow for him to remain active, provided there is enough sunlight. A high powered glow light is very sufficient at ensuring his high light requirements are met.

Personality wise, I think this quirk would affect him a lot. Not a lot of energy would be stored for processing, and would rather go into ensuring he has the correct conditions to live. Due to this he would likely remain slow moving and slow processing despite his intelligence, only moving quickly in the case of imminent danger or fresh food. This would make talking low on the priority scale and considered a waist of precious energy.

His social life would be near zero, no one wanting to hang around the kid that regularly feasts on road kill. But this would also lead to physical bullying being avoided out of pure disgust, even Bakugo flinching away from possible contact.

I'm just imagining him becoming one with the forest floor, shoving handfulls of dirt in his mouth, and getting reprimanded for feasting on roadkill Infront of scared pedestrians lol

[shrunkupthejams]

hey! it's been a hot minute and my writeblr intro could use some refreshing, so here we are!!

my name is achilles! im 18, and im a hobby writer. im in university right now, but i still try to make time to write when inspiration strikes! just here to share my stories, have fun and goof around! my target audience is always, first and foremost, myself.

my favourite things to write are high fantasy and world building!! mostly, my stories all take place in the same universe, an archipelago on a planet named dirt. in my works, i like exploring trauma, sappy fluff, and unconventional relationships.

when it comes to storytelling formats, i'm most often just holding handfulls of writing snippets and hoping for the best while i piece them together. i tend towards short stories, or short story collections, though most of my works will probably become novels or novel series. (im just a bit allergic to structure.) (though, i think i might just hate chapters.)

i also dabble, just a little and very self-indulgently, in fanfiction! inspiration for fanfiction tends to strike me very randomly (in frequency and in content), though i do have a few small finished fanfics! fanfiction is actually what got me into writing, way back in middle achool. it's all very much an exercise in cringe and heartfelt silliness for me.

with my wips, i tend to bounce rapidly all over the place and not get much done for it, but here's what i've been working on! some old (since middle school!!), some new!! (for my sanity and the sake of the length of this post, none of my fanfic wips will be included in this list.) (however, i refuse to exclude any of my original wips, so buckle up!! there are a LOT.)

working title: camilla marie & co.

the gist: what starts as a sort of chosen-one magic school shenanigans becomes a wild goose chase around the archipelago of dirt when camilla is taken by the knights of the capita. a high-fantasy coming of age story about chosen family, fate, and figuring out who you are in the face of adversity and others' expectations.

[☆ intro post]

working title: double a batteries

the gist: an accident that leads to kesh discovering they have superpowers turns their life upside down. a sci-fi/fantasy story that explores morality and familial obligations.

related aus: the adventures of jet astriak, jaiw au

[☆ intro post]

working title: isr: afters

the gist: two childhood friends, moriah and charo, reunite years later after becoming affiliated with the same magical gang. explores parental issues, with a healthy helping of childhood friends to lovers, organized crime, and vague religious trauma.

related aus: moriah & the greasters, cutiepete future au

[☆ intro post] (none yet!)

working title: shielda x dlade

the gist: follows the relationship between shielda, a reluctant chosen one, and her friend sabine as her newfound status moves her up through the ranks of iroma's military. explores intimacy and the line between right and wrong.

related aus: théqet & ardain, apartment neighbours modern au

[☆ intro post]

working title: seeing ghosts

the gist: when rea moves to calderine city to finish her practicum, she isn't really looking to make any friends or connections, not even with her very sweet new roommate, madden. but when she begins to be physically haunted by ghosts of her past, she is forced to learn to trust and rely on the people in her life, madden included. a fun little exploration in being haunted by your past (physically), self-sufficiency borne of trauma, and intrusive thoughts, maybe.

[☆ intro post]

working title: nnsei

the gist: existing on the fringes of the teenage academy population in their own ways, victoire, félix and aeliane all have their own problems in addition to clawing their way through their last year of school. victoire won't stop exploring the catacoumbs below the academy, even at the risk of his own health and safety; aeliane is still grappling with the trauma of her mother drinking herself to death; and félix, well, félix won't ever tell his friends what's going on behind that ever-present smile, but rumour has it his sister was offered up as a blood sacrifice in a solar cleansing ritual a few years ago. and in addition to all that, there might just be something sinister going on behind the closed doors of the academy, especially if the monsters stirring in the catacoumbs are anything to go by.

related aus: the sacrifice of brinelle somer

[☆ intro post]

working title: of sea jewels and great lords

the gist: after being tasked to find a group of missing villagers, geo finds themself responsible for imprisoning chad, a lackluster, troublemaking magician beneath a mountain. the trouble is a) finding such an uninhabited mountain, and b) travelling with said troublemaking magician. the trouble is also a third secret thing: the choice between duty and love once geo finds themself falling for chad against all odds.

[☆ intro post]

working title: as cherry wine

the gist: rosy is killed the night before she is due to return from her bride's pilgrimage to marry leisel. she awakes as a vampire and is forced to reconcile with her new identity and eventually, to reconcile her relationship with her former fiancée, who still believes her dead.

[☆ intro post]

working title: waldosia

the gist: after seven years at sea, wallie fischer, the last person shia wants to see ever again, returns to their hometown and all the things he left behind with a warning for shia of an imminent threat to their smuggling outfit and loved ones. shia is forced to work with wallie against the threat, but they can't seem to let the past rest, especially given they had been wallie's fiancé before his abrupt departure seven years before.

[☆ intro post]

working title: bentley

the gist: how bentley met her wife, and how her loss led bentley's descent into madness and misfortune. (could probably be considered an au off of waldosia)

[☆ intro post]

working title: giselle & darius

the gist: not long after her marriage to darius, the vampire king, giselle decides she must get her hands on the crown, through any means necessary. *any* means. (could be considered au of [REDACTED] <- literally the only thing i will ever fuss abt spoilers for lol)

[☆ intro post]

working title: timekeeper kiddos

the gist: the life and times of oaken and her friends, beginning with their discovery of a door between worlds that takes of the appearance of pvp battle arena, where they take on the roles of otherworldly deities called 'timekeepers'. when the lines between reality and the arena begin to blur and people begin to get hurt, they're forced to figure out how to send the timekeepers back to their own reality. beyond that, the web that connects these six friends, and chaz, flows them through adulthood, as they go their separate ways.

related aus: jungho at psu au

[☆ intro post]

working title: jmg

the gist: when enki and akira fight to help sora and his siblings escape their abusive and negligent father, they're surprised to learn sora has been dead the entire time.

[☆ intro post]

working title: cymothoa exigua/modern au

the gist: a tragedy about socio-economic and individual power, gender roles, and self-censorship; leaving behind the rigid expectations of a conditional parental love, only to leave yourself behind in the pursuit of romantic love. despite getting out of the negligent household of his childhood with several of his siblings in tow, zenith fails to escape the patterns of his parents, repeating his mother's sacrifice of individuality for love.

[☆ intro post] (none yet!)

☆

[absolutelymarshmallow]

Telltale signs of approaching summer

1. Water starts smelling Suspiciously Like That

2. Orange flavour no longer nauseating, but pizza is

3. The backs of my knees are misbehaving

4. Wanting to eat handfulls of dirt whether outside or inside

[makes-her-sick]

I like throwing handfulls of dirt at kids its my passion

[bewwy]

I'll post a fic Wip here

Sumarry: Phil is haunted by a ghost long dead.

It was a warm sunny day, the kids were rough housenig in the flowers, Tallulah throwing a handfull of dirt at Chayanne, and he jumping on her as revenge.

It was a good day.

The wind ruffling the leaves, and mixing with the laughter of his kids, Phil closed his eyes to enjoy the sun.

But doing so, brought back the memories of the previous morning. It wouldn't leave his mind, the purple crystals shinning in the darkness of the main room, guiding him trough his home. In to the aquarium waters.

It sends a shiver trough his spine, and Philza shakes himself off, rising from the ground and walking to his children, black spots dancing across his vision and the chill holding steady against the sun.

The kids notice him aproach, and Phil tries to smile away the unconfortable feeling, their squeels of laughter and joy acting as a sword, cuting away the memories.

"You little shits enjoying yourselfs?" Both

covered head to toe with mud smile proudly. "I'll need to make you new clothes! Cuse those rags are gonna be sprouting weeds at this point."

"Stop with the drama papa" Tallulah rolls her eyes after the sign.

"We reuse resycle and Rihanna in this house" Signed Chayanne

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Phil weezes out a laugh. "Alright, bath time you too! Go home and get washed, I'll meet you there with some new clothes."

The kids pick themselves up, with Tallulah trowing herself in to his pants, leaving a stain shapped tallulah in it.

"Tallulah! Oh my god. Now I'll need a new pair as well! Uhg.." Philza complains lightly. "Come on both of you! Get going!"

And the kids do, Tallulah warps first, and Chayanne gives a wide grin as he teleports away trough the purple particles.

Fuck...

Fuck him.

It's actually pathetic, the simple color of the particles, brings back all the bad fellings with it. Really, it's quite impressive.

Philza closes his eyes again, trying to take a deep breth and center himself, he sees his kids, just a warp away, and hears laughter. It's not - it's not his kids laughter though.

It's mocking, amused even, as if finding the actions of a stranger perplexing, but comedic. It's so close too, it sounds like it's inside of his ears, and yet so far away, muffled by a indiscribable distance.

He opens his eyes. It's coming closer.

Phil looks across the field and sees nothing, only the overturned dirt and scattered flowers, some unfortuned crushed petals in the ground by his feet, it's pink, but the edges are burnt due to the direct sunlight.

As he looks at the crushed flowers, purple particles appears at the cornner of his eye.

How long has Phil been standing there? Is it Chayanne? Wondering why he hasn't come back yet? But he did say he was gonna do something first, didn't he?

He turns around.

There is no one there, but the laughter seems closer, less muffled.

He needs to go, Phil will let them borrow one of his shirts, but he needs his kids back. Now.

He grabs his warp stone, holds tightly in his hand, and thinks of home. Phil & Missa. Phil & Missa. Phil & Missa. Phil & Missa.

Why isn't he porting?

[lazyloanshark]

Magic Item: Ground of Lyft

Eating this handfull of dirt doubles your carrying capacity for 1 hour

Cursed variant: Halves your carrying capacity for 1 hour after

[metallightningbug]

The Insecticon tries to imagine it and finds himself more than a little envious. Given how tiny he is on the grand scale of things it's safe to say that the closest he could get to eating a planet would be putting a handfull of dirt in his mouth.

"That sounds amazing (amazing)."

(@metallightningbug) "What is it like eating a planet (planet)?"

( IT IS A MYRIAD OF FLAVOURS. )

( ALL LAYERED, COMPLEX UPON THE GLOSSA. )

( SOME ARE BETTER THAN OTHERS. GAS GIANTS ARE NOT AS PLEASANT AS ROCKY WORLDS. )

[supernatural-bias]

—keep playing please

SUMMARY | you've never liked storms. thank god for your weird neighboor and his impromptu band sessions

PAIRING | platonic tommy & wilbur x reader

REQUESTED | no

WARNING | reader doesn't do well with storms, hints at a sad past

WORD COUNT | 2.7k+

AUTHORS NOTES | a rewrite of this fic from almost over a year ago. tagging @lyssys @zooone @beep-beep1

🍃 Masterlist 🍃 Navigation 🍃 Rules 🍃

The walls in this place had always been too thin.

Apartments in Brighton normally had that one thing. That one tiny thing that made the picture perfect abode completely dog shit. You had learned that your first couple months after moving out. No matter now completely sound something may seem on paper, theres always going to be something to ruin it. Whether that be leaky pipes, no hot water, or an elevator that doesn't work. In your case it just happened to be paper fucking thin walls.

The fabric of the small couch you were attempting to sleep on had been rubbing up against your skin nonstop for the past sleepless hour. It was rough and smelled like every dingy bar you had to pass on the streets just to get back home from the train: cigarette smoke and cheap alcohol.

Unsent emails lie dormant on your flickering computer screen, the failing power curtosy of the storm wailing outside.

It, being the email, detailed your heated resignation from your dead-end job. An effort that had taken weeks of deleting and typing. Deleting and typing and deleting and typing until the print on your keyboard had been faded to a nothing but a distant memory. Maybe if one were to squint hard enough, they would see the letter a or f on there somewhere.

The device sitting no less than a couple of yards away might as well be halfway around the world in the great planes of Africa, too far from your reach for you to even consider getting up. Everything seemed like that nowadays, actually. There, but not really.

The sound of something shrill made you flinch. Was someone attempting to run a bar of metal through a cheese grater? Oh, right. That was just the sound of the window panes being thrust up against your brick walls. Normally, one would assume that having thin walls is where the misfortune regarding a shitty apartment would end. But apparently having only two windows, both as brittle as the expired candy you received from your batty grandma on the holidays, came part and parcel with it.

But none of that would matter—not a single email, or the lack luster walls, or even the window—would matter. If it wasn't for the tear tracks on your face.

Anyone who knew you even remotely well would have spotted something wrong the moment they entered your apartment. No, it wasn't the handfull of tissues that had missed their goal of the mini trashcan sitting by your side. No, it wasn't the pair of pajamas you hadn't changed out of in two days time. It was where you were sitting.

Ever since your days as a child, when your biggest woes were but an ice cream cone dropped in the dirt, the couch had always been the place to go when the familiar sting of tears rose. It was where the last happy memories of your family resided. And you knew it was stupid to hold onto something that had since fallen to peices, but humans had always been sentimental like that. And what were you if but just a human.

Every time a storm came in you would get like this. It would all surface until that same spot on the couch—propped between two pillows and enveloped with a heavy blanket—was taken up. By you, an echo of the person who had once been bright. Filled with the daydreams of the road ahead of you.

But you knew now those roads just led straight back to where you were now. With emails that would never be sent sitting across from you as you cried for reasons you couldn't explain.

As yet another round of bright electricity struck the ground outside your window, a new sound drifted through the air and into one of your ears. Slow at first, but growing bit by bit until it was enough for your eyebrows to furrow together.

It was a soft melody. Very out of place in your current situation. You felt like you should've watching a symphony from afar while hearing that tune; not wasting away on your couch in the dead of night.

A warm voice accompanied it as well, along with the slow sound of a steady drumbeat. It cut through the next round of earth shattering thunder like a hot knife in butter, dulling the anxiety provoking noise.

With trepidation, you found yourself propping your knees up on the couch, leaning your ear against their living room wall. It was something straight out of a cliche movie—children spying on their parents for instance. It was a poor attempt to be able to hear the weak music better, but for once, you were aiding the opportunity given to you by the poorly built walls.

With the peeling paint of your cheap apartment wall scratching at your ears skin, you were just in time to catch the tail end of the song.

The music was so much clearer now. Crisp, refreshing. Soothing. Before it was similar to the sound of water dripping from a leaky faucet. Now it was a roaring river, washing over you in waves. Bringing a smile to your cheeks that were still stained pink with streaks of salty tears.

You were drowning. Drowning in the lyrics, drowning in the beat, drowning in the utter joy that resonated through nothing but a few musical notes placed in an orderly fashion.

But then, just like that, it ended.

And you were left alone with the weather once more.

Why were you here again?

That's the only thing that came to mind as you adjusted the blanket on your shoulders. Hoping that you didn't look like that homeless person on the corner near the grocery store. A hesitating hand drew itself up to the doors scuffed surface, knocking timidly once, twice, three times before falling limply to your side.

Some shuffling came from the other side of the door. It was hard to tell, but you thought you heard a couple people laughing—one of the people's laughter being louder than the rest, if you could even call it that. Sounded more worthy of the title of a shout. Or perhaps even a wheeze.

The fact was, your head was simply too filled with thoughts. All of them whirling around in a tight blend of anxiety and fear to completely notice the sounds of joy. Why had you left your apartment? For a song you had thought was nice? You didn't even know these people and vice versa. So why in the absolute hell were you practically standing on their doorstep just to hear more of that music.

Your posture automatically straightened as the door cracked open. Light spilled from it, more noise accompanying the action. To say you were a little grateful for the change in atmosphere, from a dingy communal hallway to a slightly less dingy communal hallways, would be an understatement.

"Hey! What d' ya need mate?"

The boy (or man, it was hard to tell. He had a very childlike quality to him) currently standing in front of you was the epitome of everything you weren't.

He had on a turquoise jumper with simple black trousers. A design of stick people decorated with muted colors had been printed loosely on the front. Tousled and wrinkled to the moon and back, it looked like he'd had quite the night. Overall, the guys' clothes looked well worn and loved.

His face was set with a gentle and caring look, a wide smile pulling it all together. He was staring straight at you, his piercing baby blue eyes making it seem like he was looking right through you and into your soul. A light dusting of rosy pink complemented his cheeks, blonde hair tucked behind his ears and falling into his eyes with a slight tickle. If you had any money to bet with at that moment you would have placed it all on the notion that this was the person with the loud laugh you'd heard moments before. Certantly seemed cherry enough for it.

"Yeah, hey." You tried your best for a smile. Something that seemed a bit easier than a few moments ago. "I'm the person who lives a door down, and I couldn't help but hearing the music. Because for some reason I'm still awake tonight. At one in the morning." The last part was a bit quieter, more of a mummble to yourself than him.

Immediately, your words seemed to embarass him, his ears flaming up something ferice as he nervously laughed.

"Oh! Oh yeah, so so sorry about that. We were just having a laugh and playing around, didn't mean to disturb you at all really. I can tell then to quiet down or something if that's what you nee—"

"No!" Your hands froze in mid air as you cut him off. "No, please. I actually came to ask if you lot could keep it up? I have trouble desling with storms, and my walls are really thin, but the musics good and it's a nice distraction."

Blue eyes cautiously tracked your movement as you folded in on yourself a bit, inwardly cringing at oversharing with a total stranger. Your self loathing only increased as he held up a single finger to you as if to say 'hold on', before poking his head back through the door behind him, yelling a few inaudible things back and fourth with someone before returning back to you.

"Uh, hey, what's your name?" He asked you, voice as soft as before. You hesitated for a moment, eyes sunken and lips dry, before answering.

"It's (Y/n)."

"Mines Tommy." The person now known as Tommy smiled. You attempted once more to mirror the look, but it felt less like mirroring and more genuine. As if just sharing a moment with an old friend. He brightened up at that, still maintaining a carefree posture.

"Why don't you come in?" Tommy glanced behind you as if looking for more people but stepped back with the same warm smile to open the door. "You look like death, and I'd rather not have Wil's nice neighbor fall dead at his doorstep. Bad for clout."

"Gee. Thanks." You chose to retort instead of asking who Wil was, following after his laughing figure into the new environment. You had been right about earlier. He was the one with the loud laugh—looking like he was about to double over with the way he practically lost control of himself. Something about that made you chuckle yourself.

Walking through a much brighter lit halfway, you followed Tommy until the thin room opened up into a much larger one. What you assumed would be the living room, although right now it looked more like a music studio. Inside were more people, all of them situated in a sloppy semi circle.

There were about four of them, each sitting by different instruments and laughing. All were men and had a scruffy look to them. Like they were scuffed around the edges, but if you pried hard enough, you could find their soft center.

Tommy looked over at you while you were still taking in the sight. He watched as your pupils adjusted to the new setting, glancing back at him as if silently asking what you were supposed to do now.

"These guys are my friends, it's okay." He leaned over to whisper at you in a tone that was a tad bit to loud to be a wisper. You got the feeling he wasn't that good at being quiet.

"Stay here for a moment. I'm going to go talk to them." He told you before walking off.

Tommy walked up and started talking, something that you couldn't hear from where you were standing. He was using wild hand gestures, and every once in a while the people he was talking to would glance behind him at you. When they noticed you staring right back, each would just offer a wave or smile before looking back at Tommy with a more serious expression.

After what seemed like forever, Tommy turned back around to start walking to you. But this time the four other people trailed after him like ducklings, all of them looking at you with eyes that crinkled together at the edges. Almost as if happy to see you.

"Okay (Y/n)," Tommy clapped his hands together, and noticing how you jumped at the suprise, lowered them back down while mouthing an apology. One of the guys socked him on his arm playfully, causing Tommy to glare at them before looking back at you.

"These are my mates. They wanted to meet you, the praiser and five star reveiwer of my music that happens to be Wil's neighboor." One of them hit him in the arm again with a laugh as they explained to Tommy in a playfully condescending way—like a teacher explaining something to a child—that it wasn't his music. They just received a raspberry from Tommy before he began to introduce them one by one.

The first was Ash. He had on a red beanie that went together quite well with his chunky glasses. Along with his scruffy mustache—that you thought was rather impressive—and chill nature, he could have easily been mistaken as someones laid back roommate from university. A vibe you much appreciated. He offered you a polite tip of his hat and a greeting while balancing a sleek guitar on his hip.

The next to be introduced was a fellow named Joe. He had a large smile and waved at you swiftly. His sandy blonde hair and beard made him look older than he actually was, but giving off a homey vibe all the same. He was the shortest of the group, which was like saying he was the dumbest scientist to work at nasa. They were all giants compared to you.

Then was the next man. His name was Mark and he looked quite similar to Joe. Both had sandy blonde hair and a beard, yet Mark's face was a bit rounder. He also happened to be a few inches taller than the previous member. He didn't say much when Tommy gestured in his direction, just stuffing his hands in his pockets and awkwardly smiling.

"—and that's Wilbur. Wil. Soot. Soot man. Sooty boy." Tommy finally finished speaking, pointing at a brunet with a baseball cap on while dragging out different versons of his name. He just got an eyeroll in response, much different from the soft smile that was tossed your way by Wilbur.

Looking back at you with wide eyes and an expective grin, Tommy spoke directly to you this time.

"Whatcha think?" He boasted with his hands on his hips. "Are we cool or what?" A small smattering of laughter from the boys behind Tommy followed the blonds words as they tried to deny it, doing a very poor job considering you did somewhat agree with Tommy. I mean, you had shown up on their doorstep and all.

You paused.

"You're all too fucking tall." You finally relented with a head tilt, bouncing you eyes from one person to another till they had circled back to Tommy with a glint he couldn't decipher. But something told him it wasn't anything bad. Not like the state he had just seen you in a few moments ago.

He felt his heart swell in the slightest bit for no reason at your words. That was evident enough with the way he bounded over to you to wrap an arm around your shoulders. Wilbur chided him slightly for the sudden action, telling him to give people space like they had talked about, but you just laughed. Feeling like this would become a regular occurrence.

You had a feeling you were going to be spending a lot of time with this new group. That's one thing for certain.

[rozugold]

im tryna catch up with the protégé tommy au but its alot to swallow, could u give a rlly quick summary (like a handfull of sentences if possible) of where it takes place/what happens? /nf of course!!! i can always look myself if thas too much to ask :))

Aaaa imma try-

Painted illusions starts at the end of exile, Dream comes back just in time to see Tommy on the dirt tower. He brings him down and takes him to the big finale mountain to set up base. Tommy emotionally shuts down after his attempt and Dream uses this to get him to join his side under the guise that Dream will help Tommy get back to his normal self. From then on he assists Dream in his evil endeavors, he builds the underground bunker, steals the axe of peace, and sets off the tnt machines during Doomsday. Dream then gives Tommy the biggest task yet, to kill Tubbo and rid of his last attachment.

Spoilers for if you’re not done with the disc confrontation comics!

Currently we’re in the healing arc/season 3. Tommy now lives with Tubbo in Snowchester for the time being and is trying to learn how to be his own person again. He’s also trying to figure out how to deal with the guilt he feels over helping with the destruction of L’Manburg, and how to deal with the burden of having the revival book knowledge that Dream made him memorize.

Also! The green tinted comics are during Dream’s rule while the red tinted comics are after Dream’s death (so Tommy’s rule)

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Prepare for trouble, and make it double!

My attempt of making a writing colab along with @thotsforvillainrights and her beautiful baby Kaishi! Hope I made justice for your cute little one!

"Boreeeeeeed....." the kid whined, upside down besides his fatger on the couch as he read a book without much caring it in the first place.

With a huff, Kaito raised himself up and kneeled right besides his dad, leaning his hubby cheek against his shoulder.

"Papaaaa?" The boy almost whined as Kai only flipped a page of his book. The five year's old pouted as he stood up and started to make noises with his mouth, knowing how much Kai was bothered by them.

"For crying out loud, what?" The older malr snapped as Kaito stopped making noises and just stared blanky back at him "Well?"

"I'm bored."

"... do I look like an amusement park to you brat?" Kai sighed before driving his attention to his book "Go play with your toys or read something. "

"You are the most boring dad in the world papa." Kaito pointed out with a frown and before Kai could come back with some smart ass reply they heard door's noises and Kaito immediately brighten up.

"Mama!" The boy shouted in goee as he climbed off the sofa as Kai immediately thanked God or whoever was above for you to finally be home.

"Woah hey bub!" You giggled with a few packs on your hands as the child hugged onto your lev with all the strenght he had.

"I missed you! Being with papa alone is boring." You tried to prevent a snort to come before you just giggled and carresed both of your son's checks lovingly.

"Guess what? There is a surprise on the hallway and maybe you womt be just as bored."

"But papa said we cant have a dog." The kid pouted as your heart clenched a little... you were still fighting over Kai to at least get a puppy.

"Is not a puppy sweetie. But is your cousin Kaishi!" You smiled brightly as your son's (e/c) shined a bit even if his face didn't changed at all "Go say hi to him and be nice!"

"Ok." The kid nodded and went pass you as you picked the bags and soon heard shrieks of gless coming from the hallway and a very fearfull looking Chisaki Kai almost drop himself on his way as he found you with wide eyes.

"I heard screaming. From two kids. We have only one. What did you do?!" He almost exclaimed as you arched an eyebrow and giggled.

"You already forgot hon? Our nephew Kaishi is here to spend the day with us. Isn't adorable? Kaito will have a playdate almost!" You stopped giggling when your husband's face went as pale as it could get "oh my god Kai you're okay?!"

"T-Two... brats... Two little demonic pests... in the same house... in my house..." his golden eye twitched as he brought one of his hands to scretch his forearm.

"Aren't you being a little overdramatic?" You tried to coax him to relax until you both froze at the sounds of devilsh giggles, pots falling and surely Rappa and Mimic's screams of anger.

"I am not." If you didn't knew your husband, you surely would've tell by his tone of voice that he was actually terrified.

.

.

.

"This drink will make everyone's who drink it into a rat!" Kaishi exclaimed while adding dead leafs into the pot as kaito nodded with a determined and concentrated face.

"Rats like cheese... I guess maybe a bit of spoiled cheese?" Kaito offered while pointing at to the trash can.

"Yeah! That will work!" Kaishi smiled as Kaito quickly picked with his already dirty hlittle hands the before saftely wrapped spoiped cheese and dropped onto the pot.

"Now what?" The boys looked at each other before Kaishi picked a bit of mud nearby, silently suggesting to put as Kaito smiled and nodded.

The... substance, was indeed something. Not only the appearance of it was terryfing but the smell of it almost made the two young boys puke.

"We will have to drink that?" Kaishi spoked, his little voice all funny due to him covering his nose as Kaito immediately shocked his head in disaproval of the idea "So who will?"

"..."

"..."

"Papaaaa!!!!" "Uncle Kaiii!"

He froze aat the voices of the boys as he was trying to play shogi in peace with Pops as the elder only chuckled when the two energetic boys opened the door's room, Kaito carrying a cup of God's know why.

"What now?" He arched an eyebrow from his place of the couch at Kaito covered in mud and dirt offering him a cup.

"Drink it!" Kaito told simply as Kaishi covered his mouth to prevent a giggle to escape.

"Why on hell I would do something like that?" He stared at the two before he felt his hives appearing on high speed "You both. Bath. Now."

"Drink this first papa!!" Kaito stoomped his foot down, not getting a tad bit scared when Kai just stood up with a glare.

"Kaito Chisaki."

"Drink it!" The boy accidentaly tripped and it sended the mixture right on Kai's necj and some of it on his mask... thankfully.

"Oh geez." Pops chuckled while grabbing his cup of tea as he saw in question of minutes Kaishi grabbing his cousin's hand and yelling to run as Kai ran after them with a pissed offf shout.

.

.

.

You finishedd making the snacks for the kids until you saw your husband on the doorway, eye twitching, sleeves rolled back, from head to waist all dripping wet as the two boys greeted you like little angels... and to notify, they were sparkling almost.

"Uh... I heard some shouting but I thought you three were playing so.." you smiled awkwardly as you picked Kaishi up as he nuzzled on your neck as Kaito pouted as the jelly little mommy's boy he was.

"Those pests..." your husband muttered in a murdeful tone of voice before sighing and going straight to the bathroom.

"What did you two do to your poor uncle and father huh?" You asked as the two boys stared at you back before both replying in the same time.

"We tried to turn him into a rat."

Oh dear...

.

.

.

You soon notice that the boys were handfull even to yourself together so you quickly offered a movie to put on as you saw the look of your husband's face as he tried to just eat his dinner in peace but alas, his son and nephew had other plans on just asking ever type of question possible and if not answered right away they poked him, not caring about his mysophobia anymore.

"You're an angel you know that..." you smiled in sympathy as your Kai rested his head on your shoulder, completely drained from having to deal with two versions of hyperative children of the same gene.

"You deserve to rest my poor baby." You murmured while kissing his temple as he grumbled something.

"Gross." Kaito commented as Kaishi nodded in aproval.

"Disgusting." Kaishi tried to imitate Kai's voice only to end up laughing along with Kaito.

"... tell me is already the time to bed for those..." your husband almost begged until Kaito got up to fist your clothes on his tiny fists and rest his head on your lap.

"Can Kaishi stay the night mama? Pretty please?" He asked with the puppy dog eyes you just couldn't refuse.

"Absolutely no-" "of course honey." Kai got his face up from your neck only to glare daggers at you as the children cheered.

"You traitor..." he spoke in utter disdust as you could only giggle.

.

.

.

"The boy are sleep. The extra cushion did came in handy." You smiled as your husband immediately fell into the bed with a groan.

"They're quite... handfull." You laughed at his mumbling and went to do your night routine... as soon as you finished you got out of the bathroom to met Kai already on his back staring at the ceiling before those amber eyes fell on you.

"They did drain your energy out today huh?" You sit down close to him and softly started to comb your fingers into his hair as he sighed in relief.

"... Lay down.. is getting cold and I dont want you to get sick." He mumbled sleepy as you smiled in utter love for usual anti social germophobic man, giving excuses only for you to lay down and touch him.

"Needy arent we?" You teased, face front to him as he opened one eye lazily before testing the waters and giving you a kiss that soon turned heated.

"I will show you needy."he growled lowly as you felt already heat coming down there and also a tad bit of hardness on his part as he hover over you to attack your neck only for-"

"We can't sleep." Kaito opened the door, carrying his plushie as Kaishi yawned wlazily and opened one eye.

"Auntie? Uncle?"

You just patted your husband's back when he just dropped on you and screamed in frustation on the crook of your neck.

Tough day for daddy Kai.

[uratowel]

Fear will fade but the fade is fear

Chapter 3:

The temple of the holy ashes was gone. Nothing from the once so imposing and exalted building that she had admired with fascination days prior was left anymore. The foundation was completely blasted, the nave as well as the adjoining buildings were razed to the ground. Occasionally you could find remainders of the once stately stonewalls, only now they looked brittle and charred like they were made of gray, bunred charcoal - a single touch and they would crumble into ashes like everything else. A thick layer of dirty ash, mixed with dirt and soot, covered the debris, the ruins, the floor and was still softly falling down on anybody nearing the rift. Just like freshly fallen snow, the ashes engulfed everyone and everything into a blanket, muffeling all the sounds - only thing you could hear was a disturbing loud crunch from the footfalls of the heavy armouread figures wandering about. If you found a spot where the wind was able to blew the covers away, all you would see was burned-black, dead earth. Looking around, the ruins, wreckage and shards scattered around within a radius of over a mile seemed like silent witnesses of what happend.

The temple now was only a mere fading memory of what it once was. The airy and wide hall, whose ceiling was supported by marble pillers, the noble cloisters, the shining white floor in which you could see yourself and which reminded you of a huge frozen lake in winter - all gone froever within the blink of an eye. And with it all the life in its vacinity. In the outskirts of the side, in between of all the debris you could find the bodies, or what may have been the bodies, of a handfull of the victims. There had been hundreds of people at the conclave - elfes, humans, dwarfes, templars, mages, clerics, innocent souls that were brutaly ripped out of their lifes. The corpes were twisted, burned beyond recognition and formed into bizarre sculptures of black and still smoking coal. The picture was horrifying but the smell was even worse. The biting stench of sulphur mingled with the heavy and sweet smell of melted grease and burned flesh... more than once Mara found herself on the verge of throwing up.

And as if the cruel sight of destruction and death wasn't bad enough, dark red stalagmites some as big as the storey of a building, some as small as the hilt of a sword, sprouted from every crack in the mountain and earth. Red Lyrium - an eerie and abnormal mis-product of nature, the mutated and malicious cousin of blue Lyrium. Supposedly the destructive might of explosion combined with the sudden death of hundreds veered it from the depth of the fade right into the waking world. The deeper they went into the ruins the more frequent and bigger the stalagmites became and the closer they got the louder became their song. It was a steady ethereal humming, like the sound when you circling the rim of a wineglass with your finger. This sound, no, melody was somewhat welcoming and pulling you in but it made Maras head swim, made her vision blur and her stomach nauseaus like beeing seesick. She didn't like it one bit.

"Maker be with us!" You could hear the murmured plea of some of the soldiers standing by. Their heads were hanging low and you could see their pale faces. Some of them were angry, others shocked and overwhelmed. Just like Mara but she had no time to linger on grief or fear - there would be time for that later. If there even will be a later for me.

The breach hung right at the center of what was once the temple of holy ashes. It was a huge, garish green billowing rift lingering in the midst of the empty space. From it the unnatural energy of the fade oozed out like thick vapour. Every so often the power discharged itself from the breach with foreboding electrical crackling and hissing. Everytime it happpened the mark in her hand flared painfully.

With a shudder Mara teared herself away from her hand and forced herself to take a look around the soon to be battlefield that now lay before her. Instinctively her hand grabbed the hilt of her weapon. She was relieved that the seeker had decided to free her from the handcuffs and, after some hesitation, had allowed her to fight with the swords she had found on the way. But even with the both of them fighting they had a really rough time going against all the enemies they encountered. Luckily for them they found some very reliable additional pair of hands on their way. Cassandra and Mara had to face one problem after the other. They were shot with projectiles made of green energy and where the debris had hit the ground, murderous demons and shades peeled themselfes from puddles of greyish green ooze. Shortly before they reached the forward camp, they heard fighting sounds coming from a ruin a bit further their way. Nearing it they found the source of it - in the middle of crumbled walls a small group of people was desperately fighting against a never ending flood of demons that emerged from a small rift. The fight wasn't going well for the defenders. Without thinking twice Cassandra had jumped down the small drop the two of them had been standing on and stormed across the yard sepearting them from the fighters - with a shake of the head but a smile on her face, Mara sprinted right after her, drawing her swords slamming them into the first enemy that had barred her way. Less than a minute later the demons were gone. That had been the point things had become... lets say weird or weird-er.

"Quickly before more come through!"

Suddenly everything happened at once. Someone grabbed her marked hand and yanked it towards the rift. She barely heared the words the person had spoken. The second her hand had been raised the mark somehow had connected to the rift, building a sickly green sizzling bond between them. The feeling was highly uncomfortable - her hand and arm felt like burning, she felt a sharp pain throughout her whole body, a ringing in her ears, a strange power pulling on her. For a second it felt like the rift would suck her in but she withstood the pull and instead concentrated on the energy connecting her to the rift. Right in that moment she became very aware of energy flowing between her and the fade. With all her willpower she commanded it to SHUT THE FUCK DOWN! Then, suddenly, the connection broke apart, the rift flared one last time and imploded with a dull blast wave, knocking her back a few steps. Mara had felt lightheaded and wobbly on her feet but to her relief the pain had subsided and all that had been left was the steady thrumming of the energy she could feel surging through her hand. She had stared at the mark in confusion, then at the person standing right next to her. They only had smiled at her and had answered her unspoken question with a gentle nod. Maras eyes had widened in realisation. She had done it, she had closed a rift.

After everyone had calmed down Cassandra introduced the man next to her as Solas. The elfen mage had been the one pushing her arm and telling her how to close the rift. It seens as he knows quite a bit about the fade and the veil. According to the seeker he also was the one taking care of her after they had found her. While she was out cold Solas had barely left her side, tending to her wounds and studying the mark. Seemingly the insight he could gather led him to belief that the mark in her hand and the energy seeping through the rifts are similar and thus the mark could have the ability to manipulate the fissures of the veil. Luckily for them Solas' theory has proven to be right. If she concentrated on the power in her hand and forced it towards the rifts she somehow was able to close that damn things. She might not know exactly how it worked but at the moment the HOW was irrelevant. What mattered was THAT she was able to help.

Besides Solas a dwarf, who introduced himself as Varric Tethras - rouge, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong, joined their group. He was a man full of sarcasm, witty remarks, questionable vim and an impressive display of chest hair. Oh, and lets not forget about his companion Bianca - love of his life and deadly precise crossbow. Mara decided the moment they met, that she would like Varric.

After that they managed to get to the forward camp without bigger trouble where they were greeted by a frowning Leliana and a very unfriendly clerc, named chancellor Roderik who both had been in midst of an argument. Unfortunatedly, Mara somehow managed to get herself involved into said argument partly because of her unwelcome presence and partly by reminding them that there is a bigger problem than her presence. Then, all it took was a little flare of her mark and she had become the center of attention and suddenly had been pressured to decide on their next move. Sadly, it had been a lose-lose situation: A) Take the remote mountain path which would be the saver route and they could possibly save the lifes of a missing scout squad but it would take a lot of their non-existing time and cost the lifes of the soldiers who would pose as a distraction. B) Continue on the direct path to the breach and fight alongside the soldiers which would spare time and thus save the lifes of many soldiers on the field but would also abandon the scouts to their fates and put Mara and the others into higher risk of dying themselfes. Eventually Mara decided that time was the crucial factor and, as cruel as it seemed, people would die either way. As much as she would've liked to rescue the scouts, their fate was unclear and the chances of finding them alive seemed too small. The chances of saving more lifes altoghether the sooner she closed the breach had carried more weight at the moment. So, Mara decided that they should join the forces and rush to the breach as fast as they could. Unsurprisingly not everybody was happy with her decision but they had been in kind of a hurry with no time to think of an option C that could have made all of them happy. Leliana seemed like a resonable person and would get over it with time. I mean, she could've just commanded us to use the path through the mountain instead of dumping the resonsibility on me.

Mara could understand why they made her choose. There were the obvious reasons Solas and Cassandra had mentioned, sure, but there was also another reason. She was their bad guy. It didn't matter if the people hated her because of her decisions - because they already did. Even if her choice of action would turn out to be a sucess the poeple won't suddelny praise her and forgive her that she may or may not be responsible for the events at the conclave. Best case, it could be a first step to make amends because they start to consider her story to be true. Worst case, they still vote for her to be hanged because they still don't belief her and dismiss her actions as petty attempt to deceive. In the end, it didn't matter, she promised to help those people and she indented to do so, no matter what.

Mara took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment to calm her nerves. I. Can. Help. All I have to do now is close that damn big one over there. Piece o'cake, right? She opend her eyes and examined the area around her, giving that big green gush infront of her a wary look. After fighting even more demons and fade creatures back to back with the remaining soldiers and closing two other, smaller rifts they had made it to the breach - partialy hurt but still in one piece. Together they managed to clear the path of enemies and rifts with only minor losses on their side. Now, that the path was secure the backup from the forward camp was able to easily close ranks. Now the destroyed temple premises were figuratively swarmed with soldiers and additional voluntary hands.

Besides these people there was their quartett, consisting of Cassandra, Varric, Solas an herself, and Lelilana together with two squats of archers. Leliana herself was equipped with a neat longbow which was swung around her back and a quiver full with arrows at her side. She and her archers positioned themself on the elevated areas around the clearing. Mara watched them ready themself and she was bound to notice that in the long run the marksmen would have way too little arrows. That was not the only thing concerning. The soldiers may all wear armor and weapons but they were a potpourri of different sets and the quality was... mediocre. Well,it was not as bad as it might sound. As far as she could tell, most of them actually knew how to fight - on a reasonably trained level - and even if not, all those fighters were brave und determined men and women who they did their damnest to fight against their fears and whatever was coming. When everything would be over they would celebrate, drink and sing as the heroes they undoubtedly are and praise the names of the fallen. Mara envied them for that.

Way down on the soon to be battlefield she watched the soldiers running around to take their positions. As small group of them had gathered around an outstanding figure. A tall and broad man with straw blond hair yelled orders and gestured them where to go. He wore a crimson red coat with a big, dark fur collar that covered most of the heavy silverite armour he wore underneeth. At his side dangled a lether sheeth with an impressive longsword inside and a silverite kite shield was fastened to his back.

He looks so different now. Mara grinned a little to herself. Where's he hiding that ridicious lion helmet of his? She couldn't see it anywhere near him. Maybe he wasn't very fond of waering the helmet at all? It seemed excessively ostentatius, needlessly pretentious and highly impractical - to her at least. He just could've worn a simple silverite helmet without loosing any of his authoriative aura. Or he was just indifferent about it or, maybe he even enjoyed wearing it? Eitherway it didn't seem to hinder him in his ability to fight. Mara had to admit that, even despite the helmet, the Commander was quite the impressive figure both aside and inmids the battlefield. A fact that came not only from his outstanding appearance but also from his formifable skill as a fighter. The way he moved and fought on the battlefield and the way he commanded made clear that he had seen his fare share of battles in his life.

Feeling suddely self-conscious Mara gave herself a quick once-over and had to surpress a heavy sigh. She was still wearing the armour she usually wore while she was traveling. It consisted of a short breastplate, a thick special leather gambeson and a pine green tabart beneath it (the breastplate was affixed to the thick leather front of the gambeson and the back had various small metal plates embedded in it), light silverite pauldrons and vembraces, thick leather gauntlets, tight leather trousers, lether boots and metal greaves and, if she had to, a helmet. She always liked her armor to be as light as possible to not restrain her mobility but still heavy enough to ensure good protection. She was well aware that there were spots on her body the armor did not or rather only partially cover, like her back, thighs and her neck. But she was quick and agile enough to avoid hits to exposed areas and avoided having enemies at her backside.

Normally Mara did take care of her equipment as best as she could. She made sure that the single parts and especially the bindings were in good shape and even tried to maintain it as clean as possible. Sure, her armour hadn't been all shiny and new or impressive but she had worn it with confidence and pride. Every new mark has been a silent witness either to her achievements in battle or to the journey of her life - it has been part of who she was. Now her armour was all grimy and stained with goo, sweat and blood. The breastplate was completely dented and scratched, some of the clasps were broken and the whole gambeson has suffered some severe damage. Besides the demage she was missing her left pauldron and gauntlet as well as her helmet. She barly recognized her former self. Gone was Mara Trevelyan, representative of the esteemed Trevelyan family. Gone was Mara Trevelyan, the proud and respected soldier. What was left was Mara, disgraced prisoner and main suspect of killing hunderets of people by blowing up a whole temple. Mara crincled her nose in disgust and grimaced at the thought that occured to her. I guess my armour fits me quite perfectly then, isn't it?

Mara was so lost in thought that she didn't notice the person approaching her. She startled as someone laid a their hand on her shoulder and squeezed frimly. She jerked her head around to find Cassandra stepping into the space besides her. The seekers gaze was stern and fierce while she was starring up to the sizzling green crack in reallity a few yards away.

"This is our chance to end this! And yours. Are you ready?" Cassandras voice was as ferocious but also filled with hope.

Am I ready? Duh. I don't know what this mark in my hand really does, how I got it or how it works. I rather use it out of pure instinct. Nobody knows if the mark is going to work with the breach as it did with the small rifts before. Everyone can sense that there will be some kind of attack from these demonic creatures but nobody knows how many enemies there will be - and if we can defeat them. Acually, nobody has a damn idea of what happend or what will be happening, so... NO, I am NOT ready. Seriously, can anybody really ever be ready for shit like THIS? On the other hand - nobody CAN be ready for this. Seeing it like this, I'm already the most ready I can really get, sooo... Fuck it. I'm ready to kick some ass. Let's do this!

Maras lips turned into a lopsides smile as she could feel a well-known prickling and tightness spreading from her chest. There was tension, anticipation, impatience and also fear. Together these feelings were forming an almost wild beast that was rageing inside her chest. It was relentless and it would break free as soon as the storm of battle would close in on them. For some, this feeling would be unsettling but for her it was welcome like an old friend. She was positively thrilled. Mara looked at the seeker and gave her a confident nod.

"As ready as can be. As long as you got a plan to get me up there 'cuz I don't think I can reach the breach from down here."

"Breach IS a long way up." Mara and Cassandra both turned around to see Varric approaching them, his eyes following the shining green column of light up into the darkend sky. Cassandra frowned and growled at her tagalong.

Cassandra opend her mouth to give them a retort but was interrupted by Solas. The elven mage appeared from behind a near wall right after Varric. His face looked pale an calm but his eyes shone. "Yes. You can not seal the breach with your mark."

"What? What is that supposed to mean?" Cassandra closed in on Solas; her eyes ablaze and voice low and growling.

Solas didn't flinch. He kept his unnerved composure and just shurgged. "This rift was first. And it is the key. Seal it and perhaps that seals the breach." He said as a matter of fact and made a protruding gesture towards were the green energy hovered above the charred ground.

Mara took a step closer to the stone railing before her and looked down. Of course Solas was right and Mara metally facepalmed herself for not noticing that herself. If you examinded the whole breach closely you could see that the greyish green stream of unnatural energy errupted from a sickly green crackling and rumbling gash in the vail between two worlds.

Upon absorbing the sheer dimension of that first rift and the inevitable danger that it entailed, she could't help but feel the beast inside her chest getting eager to be set free. The impatience inside of her rose minute by minute. But she had to play it cool. No one of the others needed to know about her pugnaciousness. Mara took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"Well, perhaps sounds good enough. Like you said seeker 'this is our chance'." She mimiced Cassandras gesture from earlier and squeezed her shoulder firmly while searching the womans eyes for a reaction.

Cassandra locked eyes with Mara and nodded before she shared that determined look with their two companions "Then let's go down and finish what we came for." The seeker turned on her heels and briskly walked towards the way down.

Mara, Varric and Solas followed shortly after the seeker. To reach the rift they had to descent about one storey, down to the floor that once was the great hall of the temple with a now shattered statue of Adraste in its center. Unfortunately all the stairways down had been destroyed due to the explosion. The only path down was a rather steep ramp on the opposite side of the hall.

Half way around the preimeters of the hall and through a forest full of debris, strange rock formations and of course stalagmites of red lyrium Mara suddely felt sick. Her vision blurred and a newly surge of pain flooded her body and made her head feel like a qunari smashed it with a huge hammer. She stumbled and stooped in her tracks to regain her composure and willed the pain to go away. And here I thought I was gettin' used to being hit with fade energy... That was when she heard it. A distant yet loud and clear voice, deep and contorted with a dark rumbling.

"Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice."

Mara scanned the area but couldn't find the person speaking. This was odd. It seemed like the voice was coming from... the breach? That was impossible. Next to her she saw Varric throwing the clusters of red lyrium disgusted looks while Cassandra came jogging back to them. She looked as startled and confused as Mara was.

"What is this? What are we hearing?" The seeker asked no one in specific.

Solas' eyes wanderd over towards the breach while he thoughtfully rubbed his chin. His calm and low voice almost sounded scarier than that otherworldy one they just had heard. "At a guess: The person who created the breach."

"Keep the sacrifice still!" - "Someone help me!"

Another bodyless voice, the voice of a woman, reverberated from the ruins of the temple. Cassandras jaw dropped down and her eyes widened upon realising whose voice they heard. "That, that is Divine Justinia!" there was no room for mistake. But who is the other person then? What had they done to the Divine?

"I have a strange feeling about that. But we should get down there already and see whats going on." Mara felt dizzy and a strange sense of impending danger and sudden alertness made the tiny hairs on her arms and her neck stand up.

Right before climbing down the slope to the lower level the mark in Maras hand flared again. This time the agony that washed over her was at a much more tolerable level so that she didn't have to stop in her tracks. She slided down the ramp as gracefully as she could and almost sprinted towards the evil green. Again, they heard Justinias desperate plea for help.

"Someone! Help! Please!" - "What's going on here?"

Wait a moment, was that... "That was your voice!" Cassandra shouted. Indeed it has been Maras own voice she just heard. What the hell? Damn it. Why can't I just remerber already? Just as if the maker had heard her the moment the group stopped infront of the massive rift its energy flashed in a bright green light that engulfed the whole area. Mara instinktively shut her eyes closed, covered her face with her right arm and ducked away from the outburst.

Slowly, hesitant Mara opened her eyes. She had to blink a few times as she rightened herself and tried to see what just had happened. The air around her was wafting like it would on the most hottest days of summer. But there was no heat, in fact the temperature kind of felt like it had dropped a few degrees instead. She turned around herself and imedeately stumbled a step back as she found herself looking in her own face. "What the..." was all Mara mumbled. The other She had just slammed open the doors to the great hall and rushed into the non-existing room - right throughout Mara. She froze in space and sucked in the air sharply. I'm fine, I'm fine. Fuck the maker, that was wired. Let's never do that again.

"What's going on here?"

Mara spun around on her heels to see herself stopping infront of the Divine Justinia. The picture that enfolded itself infront of her was cruel and distressing. The holy mother was captured and held in the air by what must have been magic. Her feet dangleing a foot above ground and her arms were streached apart like she was crucified. She turned her head as far as she could and looked at the other Mara in panic.

"Run while you can. Warn them!" The Divines voice was hoarse from screaming.

But instead of herself immediately leaving, a telltale deep growling emerged from somewhere to her right. Both Maras turned their heads towards the sound and that was when they saw it.  A huge, faceless figure of black smoke with burning dark red flames were the eyes were supposed to be stepped from the fade.

"Ahh. We have an intruder. KILL HER!" It shouted furiously.

Its deep, contemptuous voice morphed into an angry and loud rumble that echoed in her mind and made her ears ring. Her temples throbbed vigurously and her head felt like someone reached right through it, grabbed her brain and squeezed real hard. It almost felt like her mind was strenuously trying to dig deeper into her memories but couldn't. Something, a barrier of sorts was effectively blocking its attempts and causing her headache in return. Strangely enough though, Mara wasn't too frustrated about that. Even if she still couldn't remeber the event that has been revealed or anything else for that matter, she felt so, so relieved. She had been there, at the conclave with the Divine but it hadn't been Mara who attacked her. No, she had been there to help Justinia and it seemed the Divine had trusted her. She was the good guy. But then again, who was this angry creature that had orderd her death? There was no doubt that it has been responsible for the destruction of the temple, the explosion that killed everyone but her. What or who was it? Why did it do it and how? Who are its collaboraters? How many henchmen does it have? Are they still alive? Is IT still alive?

C'mon strange fade vision, show me more! Wait! No, no, no, no, no...

This time she could feel it before it happened: the energy rushing through her arm, the tingling of her skin, the numbness in her fingertips and the burning pressure that accumulated in the palm of her left hand. On instinct Mara snapped her eyes shut and threw her arms up in the air. The mark in her hand errupted with green energy at the same time as the illusion before her shattered in a nova of dazzling bright light.

"Damn." Mara muttered under her breath. She open her eyes and as her eyesight recovered Mara turned around to find her companions standing only a few steps behind her. Cassandras mouth was wide agape and her face wore a shocked and confused look. Their eyes met and the seeker decidedly strode up to Mara.

"You were there! Who was this, who attacked? And the Divine, is she...? Was that vision true? What have we been seeing?" There was urgency in her voice but also bitterness and fury.

Mara slowly shook her head in an apologetic manner. "I'm sorry, seeker - Cassandra. I don't remember." She spoke in a calm, almost soft tone.

"Echos of what happened here." Solas walked up to the other side of Mara, reliably filling in their gaps in his sober fashion as if what just happened was the most obvious thing. "The fade bleeds into this place. This rift is sleeping. It is not sealed, but it's closed - albeit temporarily. I am sure now that with the mark, the rift can be opened again and then be sealed properly and safely." With a smooth motion the elf reached behind him, grabbed his staff of his back and propped it onto the dusty ground, causing the fine black sand and ashes to swirl around the base of his staff. "However, opening the rift will likely attract some attention from the other side." The corners of his mouth tucked up into a sad smile as his gaze wandered away from the rift to meet her and Cassandras eyes. The look on his face was meaningful. He knew what was about to happen - they all knew.

Cassandras features hardened and you could almost see her whole body tense. Mara could feel it as well: anticipation was rising, her heart began beating faster and faster and she could practically hear the rushing of her own blood. Finally the time has come for her to seal that marker forsaken green bleeding wound, to save all those people from all the monsters and bring them a little bit of peace. And maybe fighting for the sake of all those people, fighting in their name was destinys way to show Mara her purpose? Was this her fate? Was it predestinated to her to be at the conclave, to be the sole survivor, to burry that mark so that there would be a tool to close the rifts? Was this a fate she could accept? What about Marcus? Was it possible that a person could have more than one fate? Anyway, fate or not was a question for later, if she survived this - maker be damned she would survive this or Marcus would kill her. No, all she had to do now was to seal that one fucking rift and kill some demons. She could do that.

Mara took a deep and long breath and slowly exhaled to tame her exitement when a saying her uncle told her popped into her mind 'Fate rarely calls upon us at a moment of our choosing'  It may sound precocious, but felt fitting non the less.

Mara smiled to herself. She unsheathed her weapons, locked eyes with Solas, Varric and Cassandra and with one last nod to the seeker opend the gates that barred that restless beast inside her chest.

to be continued...

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read on AO3:

Fear will fade but fade is fear (english) or

Angst ist nichts, Nichts ist Angst (deutsch)

Anyway, love your faces. Stay save everybody

Your UrAtowl aka Chullia <3