#I'll get started on that‚ shortly ~

[throughpatchesofviolet]

Hm ... revisiting The Final Problem--in my brain, that is--and thinking about how Watson gets called back to an inn as a ploy to get Sherlock alone ... perhaps I can use that for Sherry's lore.

[mymarifae]

i would like mydei if he was a woman, but he's not, so i don't and i hope he dies. this is actually not hypocritical at all because i have seen 500 billion mydeis across so many stories over the years. Grouchy No-Nonsense Analytical Hardened Warrior Man Who Has A Funny Way Of Showing He Cares is nothing new i am literally so bored. HOWEVER you don't usually see women in this type of character archetype - not without wayyyyyy more attempts to soften her around the edges first, at least - so it would be rather subversive and fun. but we live in the worst timeline so this didn't happen and now i have a shirtless ab-bearing man on my screen and i don't want him there

[cyanide-latte]

Brain bees are back today :[

[multishipperbish]

i'm not dead, just overwhelmed by school work

[wallbeatjournal]

You okay? Haven't seen you around too much lately.

i've been very distracted by Posting over on main lately tbh! i'm in the middle of writing a zine lesbian-coding the filmography of my favorite b movie character actor and all-time scream king babygirl kyle gallner. INCLUDING all of his one-off appearances on terrible court/cop procedurals like law&order <3

i'm doing stupid data analysis. i'm outlining. i'm soliciting peer review. you're welcome to join me over there in Scholarship OR you're welcome to blocklist my kyle tag and avoid the whole mess <3

(btw if kyle gallner had been on riverdale as an adult he would've had a kerr smith principal honey/dawsons creek situation where they'd write him in playing a not-quite-exactly-continuous adult version of his queer mass-murderer character from veronica mars. he'd of course be a betty antagonist, since betty is veronica mars. maybe a friend of chicles. maybe a friend/victim-enabler of hal's. much to ponder)

[timothyslucy]

please forgive me chicago fire fam. 😔💔

[shadowedresolve]

STARTER CALL // HARU OKUMURA

so! i'm starting over when it comes to starters, since i was having trouble with burnout/stress and keeping track of how many i owed. hopefully, this will help me be more active going forwards. with that in mind, like this post for a haru starter??

[glacierruler]

There is hope for humanity /gen

So a little while ago, 143 Street Tacos, a local taco place, caught on fire.

Vinny's is holding a fundraiser to donate to the employees of 143 Street Tacos so they can have money while they wait for the restaurant to reopen.

[ofpd]

do you have a les mis fic rec list 👀

yeah i am somehow able to make one which is insane bc i usually don't even read fic. the only time ive ever read this much fic before was when i was into atla which like. that was a hyperfixation strong enough to get me onto this website. exr has such an effect on me... (and yeah almost all of this is gonna be exr. naturally)

i assume you've read or at least heard of world ain't ready, but i'd be remiss not to mention it! the thing with this fic is that it's the ultimate exception to every preference i tend to have with exr fic—it's a modern au, it ends with them having a good, loving, requited, healthy relationship (and with them being alive), and it's often cheesy in a very fanfic way. and so i was really not expecting to enjoy it nearly as much as i did. like, i really really loved it. it's genuinely quite well-written with compelling characterizations and it really does an amazing job of fulfilling the need i sometimes have for them to just. be happy and alive and loving each other. it's possibly the fic i spend the most time thinking about.

the other long fic that i've been really into (i'd say it's probably my favorite les mis fic i've read) is beautiful & good. it starts off slow, but i promise the buildup is worth it. i really love the way in which their relationship is developed throughout—it always feels realistic, in character, and interesting. and it's just so enjoyable to read (and often very funny!), and there's always something new (or many things) that makes me go insane every chapter. it also is the most interesting fic i've read when it comes to them having sex & their characterizations wrt it. actually, the thing that compelled me to read this fic in the first place was a friend telling me that, at one point in it, enjolras says that penatrative sex isn't egalitarian. i really love when they're so insane....

i've actually read all of that author's les mis fics, and i don't remember there being a single one i disliked. but some favorites include epiphanies (woah crazy another modern au), the pursuit of light (the token non-exr fic on this list woah), in lutetia, and the loves of les amis.

another favorite is, of course, ta bouche de ciel by my bestie lucy @jondrettegirls <3. there are lots of things i love about it (which makes sense, like lucy and i are friends in part bc we have such similar tastes w this kind of thing) but one way in which it stands out is that it's the only fic i can think of that i've read that has examination of the concept of beauty as it relates to both normative cultural ideals and to exr as a prevalent theme.

and some other shorter fics i've really liked include thorns and all (which i found bc i was curiously looking through the exr hanahaki tag. this was the only one in it that i particularly enjoyed and oh my god. parts of it made me so insane), put to the sword (among other things in this fic, i love how weird r is about spirituality! just like me fr), and into the light (which is as close as any fic comes to being My ExR Canon tbh).

hope you enjoy!

[koushirouizumi]

I think I promised to @ you whenever I finally wrote something up about Hikari being autistic. I’m just gonna leave it pinned on my blog for now. It’s a little clumsy and poorly worded in parts, but still, you’re the reason I finally felt motivated to write it up! Thank you for encouraging that headcanon!

@stardustmacaron (YES THANKYOU for pinging + See my tags!!!)

{^ A BEST GIF I Ever grABBED} (Note to lurkers still please do not re-post without asking Permission first Thankyou!!)

[reflections-of-mobius]

[ @familylightfox || Continued from here!]

Little voices, grand gestures- anything and everything to make the story feel more alive for his children. He made sure each could see each page of the book as he read it, smiling all the while. It was no surprise that Izzy fell asleep first- the younger of his kids, her bedtime was far more set-in-stone than her brother's...though Roman was also limited from time to time.

He silenced a chuckle at the soft snores of the youth, folding the book shut with the silent movement of its spine. Julius trailed after Roman, feeling content and grateful for the two- something he felt each and every night, to be certain, but tonight...somehow, he felt that especially so.

"I would love to, Roman." The youth's code had progressed a bit since his early days, but there were still trademarks of the mobian's own hand in every line he wrote. Julius loved pouring over his son's work- it gave him a glimpse into what Roman had planned for whatever project had caught his eye, each and every time. Though this was more of a test of sorts- a way to see how Roman's teachings were progressing...he could hope the youth passed with flying marks, but it certainly wouldn't be the end of the world if he didn't. "If it doesn't, then we'll simply have to work on it until it does. And if it does...well, there may be a town visit in the near future for you, my boy."

There would be, regardless- but there was nothing wrong with a carrot to offer, even if it was as common as bubblegum at a highway rest stop.

"We should be passing by a nice city soon...I'll have to check Tire's navigation systems, but. It would be a pleasant break from your studies, wouldn't it?" He offered a lighthearted smile. Sure, the kids had to be careful in town- but so did he. It was simply the trade-off.

[]

Tire was rumbling along the road while Julius read to Izzy and Roman- sensors flickering. Something was out there. Not in the ocean, but somewhere- just in the woods, beyond the road. Several Egg Pods were deployed...

And all of them went offline.

A warning was sent out- moments before something launched from the trees. Red and blaring, a burning projectile that Tire had no chance to avoid even if it swerved. That didn't stop it from trying, though.

[]

Several of his children had suddenly gone offline. Julius felt ice slither down his spine.

"---Roman, go get Izz-!"

BANG!!!!

KRACK-A-KWSHHHHHHHHHHHH---

The world suddenly slammed sideways, multiple warnings blaring through Julius' brain as his false eye was overloaded with information. The lights overhead flashed and sparked- before shutting off. He fell straight into the wall.

[thefangirlingdead]

Hurt?

More Leon to Florida!

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, knowing that his best friend’s world is still turning without him there, but it does.

Because that’s just it, isn’t it?

Leon was part of something in Edmonton, and now he’s not. 

A voice in the back of his mind reminds him that maybe, maybe, he could be part of something in Sunrise, Florida, too, if he tried, but that’s too much to think about right now. 

[lucybellwood]

Lemme tell you a gay little story about an eagle.

Our town (~9,000 people) has a couple garages, but there's a big one on the main drag. My family has been going there for decades. I drive past it every day.

There used to be a huge pine tree on the corner of their lot, but last year it became a hazard and had to be taken down.

Shortly thereafter I drive by and see they've hired a guy to chainsaw sculpt the stump into a bald eagle.

Birds own my heart, but nationalism makes me twitchy. I withhold outright condemnation of the eagle, but I'm skeptical. (The original owner—an objectively Good Dude—sold the business to a younger couple a few years ago, and I don't have any knowledge of their whole deal.)

Then it turns out someone on staff is really into making costumes for the eagle. Every holiday. Every month. Stuffed turkey, witch costume, menorah headpiece, bunny ears. These people love to dress their bird.

The changing of the eagle suit becomes a source of joy every time I drive through town.

Until June, when the eagle is bare.

Now look, maybe I'm expecting too much asking my garage to celebrate Pride. But this is a small town. Every time I drive by that stupid eagle—this thing that has previously brought me so much joy—I feel hurt. I feel reminded that there are plenty of people in my liberal bubble who don't consider my community worthy of celebration. I drive to work, I feel bad. I drive home, I feel bad. The eagle is mocking me.

Then my A/C quits working.

So I book an appointent to bring my car in—and realize what I have to do.

I pick all this up at a thrift store for under ten bucks. I print the shirt with some weird heat-transfer fabric crayons I find in a cupboard. I loop gold elastic around the sunglasses and pray they'll fit on the eagle's head. (It is also important to draw your attention to the price of the feather boa.)

(Nice.)

My reasoning is thus: if I show up with a complete costume ready to go, someone will have to look me in the eye and say "We don't believe in that," at which point I'll be finding a new garage. But if they let me dress the eagle, then people in town get to have the joy I've been missing since the start of the month.

I listen to a lot of hype-up jams on my way over. I hate confrontation. I also don't wanna have to find another garage. I want to believe that this decision isn't actively antagonistic, but I'm not particularly hopeful.

I talk through the A/C issue with the guy at the desk, hand over my keys, then take a deep breath.

"Who's in charge of the eagle?"

"Oh, that's all Dylan. Second bay from the end."

I walk down the row of hydraulic lifts and find a disarmingly smiley middle-aged man pouring fluid through a funnel. I introduce myself and explain that, since the Pride parade is this Sunday and the eagle seems to be missing a costume, I have taken the liberty of making one myself, and can I get his blessing to go put it on?

Dylan grins this absolutely giant grin and goes

"Oh hell yeah."

So that's what's up now.

Happy Pride.

[amoremagnificentbastard]

Guys.

It's 12:45 in the morning and I just ordered my new laptop.

Specifically, my new gaming laptop.

You think I'm feral now? You think I'm thirsty now? Just you wait. I'm about to become the worst menace you've ever seen.

And I? Am so. Stinking. Excited.

[trianglegoddess]

Feral McGee™

It starts with the Joker. 

His goons picked up Tim Drake. Not specifically because it was Tim Drake, he just so happened to be in the Joker’s neighborhood, and we'll, he can't pass up that opportunity now can he? 

Except Tim Drake is watching, along with the rest of Gotham, at the Batcomputer. He’s nursing a broken foot and has been put on monitor duty until he's cleared for field work again. 

The guy looks enough like him, though. Black hair, blue eyes, and bags under his eyes for days. He's also got the same lean sort of build like he does. 

It happens like this. 

The Joker is doing his monologue thing where he explains whatever twisted game he's come up with this time. He takes up the majority of the screen, so nobody can see Not-Tim behind him, not until the big reveal. Then he covers the screen again, getting up close and personal, before stepping back. In those quick few seconds, Not-Tim is no longer sitting there tied to the chair. 

Someone off camera lets the Joker know, and he whirls around, confused as the rest of Gotham. 

And then Not-Tim comes in with the steel chair. 

Or, well, a crowbar, but the reference holds up. 

He takes out one of Joker’s knees before punching him in the face. The Joker drops like a bag of stones, out cold. 

Then he looks towards the camera. 

“Hey there. I'm not really sure where I am, but also if he was after Tim Drake, he got the wrong guy. I'm not him, I'm just some dude. Anyway, I'll just-yep-” he carefully steps over the unconscious Joker, gives the camera a little wave, and then leaves. 

Batman and Nightwing enter shortly after, with the Joker and his goons out cold and tied up. The knots were complicated enough where, in the end, the police resorted to cutting the ties off of them so they could be properly cuffed and taken to Arkham. 

“A constrictor knot,” Batman tells Nightwing as they watch the villain be taken away. “Often used by sailors to temporarily tie things together to keep something in a bag, or to hold something to glue it back together.”

“Huh,” Nightwing says, scratching the back of his head. “Go figure.”

—

The next time it happens, it’s the Riddler. 

He’s laughing, giving his riddles to the Bats and recording himself to all of Gotham while his victim, one of the Wayne brats, hangs over a vat of something. From a distance, he looks like Tim Drake, or maybe a lankier Dick Grayson. And he’s not the only victim, they’re all scattered across the city, but he thought an important figure such as a Wayne should be under the Riddler’s direct supervision while he enacts his schemes. 

While the Riddler cackles and plots and waves his cane around, in the background all of Gotham can see the figure escape. Several Gothamites recognize him as the kid from before, who clocked the Joker. They all watch with bated breath as he sort of wiggles his way out of the ropes holding him up. Once he’s free, he climbs the rope and gets himself down safely. 

Gotham holds their breath as the kid casually walks up to the Riddler, who’s mid-rant. He politely taps him on the shoulder, and as the Riddler is turning around, the kid clocks him just as brutally as he had the Joker. He’s down with one punch. 

They think he’s going to say another sort of awkward goodbye, but instead he pats the Riddler down until he finds a piece of paper tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. 

“Right,” the kid says, looking at the list. There’s a lot more static overlay now, and several wonder if it’s damage to the cameras. “Uh, the Clocktower, the Docks, and-” he squints at the page for a moment-”Mama Nacaroni’s? What the fuck is that? Anyway, uh. See you later, I guess. Oh! And we’re at the Gotham Arena. Have fun with him, I guess.”

The kid tosses the paper off to the side before the camera cuts to black. 

Just like last time, everyone is out cold and tied up. The Riddler himself is sporting a pretty bad shiner, but well deserved nonetheless. 

“Stop it,” Red Hood tells him. Batman just looks at him, and though Hood can’t see the top half of his face, he can tell that his eyebrow is raised. “You know exactly what I mean, B. Put the adoption papers away.”

“Hn.”

—

After that, it sorta becomes a game. The rogues of Gotham are no longer after a Wayne, or after anybody who holds any kind of social status like usual. They’re all going after this one kid, all determined to be the one to hold him. And each one is televised. 

Mr. Freeze freezes him in a block of ice, but due to the cameras glitching out, nobody can really see how he got free. They do, however, see the kid suplex Mr. Freeze. It should seem impossible, given his lanky figure, but he evidently has more muscle than he’s originally let on. 

Two-Face gets a hold of him, using chains and some power-dampening cuffs just on the off-chance that he’s a meta. They all watch as the kid leans down, pulls a bobby pin out of his hair, and picks the locks on his cuffs. One punch, and Two-Face is down. 

Gothamites are going wild for the kid. They’ve dubbed him Feral McGee™ (an online poll, of course), because every time he goes in for the punch he gets this feral look in his eyes. Also, just the fact that he casually goes up to these rogues and takes them out with all the casualness of doing something incredibly mundane? Incredible. The Gothamites are eating it up. However, despite the video evidence, nobody has been able to properly identify the kid. They know he has black hair and bright eyes, but any time he gets near a camera, it’s like there’s this weird, sort of warped quality the camera takes on. It doesn’t usually calm down until the fight is done-as one sided as they usually are-before he awkwardly skedaddles away.  

He gets kidnapped by the Penguin, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy (though that was more just a friendly chat than anything), Mad Hatter, and the Riddler again. 

And then the Joker escapes. 

It’s no surprise as to who he’s going to go after. 

Due to one too many careless goons, they manage to find their way to the Joker’s hideout pretty quickly. This time, it’s all Bats on deck, and they all hide away in the rafters as Feral McGee™ is hung over a vat of acid. His whole body is tied up, hardly a single inch of exposed skin to be seen except for the neck up. 

They watch the goons, they watch the Joker, and they watch Feral McGee™. 

The Joker is monologuing, practically begging the bats to come find him before the timer runs out. When it does, the kid gets dumped into the vat of acid. 

Despite these stakes, the kid seems to be only mildly annoyed. 

“Fuck this, I have homework I still need to finish,” they hear him say. 

They all watch, amazed and confused, as the kid starts gnawing through the ropes. Human teeth shouldn’t be able to do that so easily, but one bit after the other, and soon enough the kid’s got himself freed enough to just climb up the rest of the rope. When he’s at the top of the crane holding him up, Batman lets down a rope and pulls the kid up and out of danger. 

“Oh, cool, you’re all here,” the kid says casually, as if meeting the entire Bat Clan is just a normal Tuesday. And then he pulls out a notepad and pen and hands it to Red Hood. 

“Can I get an autograph? You’re dope as fuck, dude.”

Red Hood has to look away and hide his face in his arms for a few moments to not give away their location with his laughter before signing. And then, one by one, the others do as well. They pass along the kid’s notebook with shit-eating grins and barely contained snickers despite the fact that the Joker is still right below them. Even Batman signs it, after his children don’t stop hounding him about it. 

In their distraction, they didn’t see the kid sneak away. He’s far away from them now, nearly right over the Joker. Danny waits, though, until the Joker has turned around as the timer almost runs out. They watch as he snickers at Joker’s flabbergasted look. The Joker comically looks back and forth and under objects the kid obviously isn’t under. However, before he can do or say anything else, the kid drops from the rafters and right on top of the Joker. He crumples to the ground, unconscious. The kid, however, just brushes the dust off of himself. Despite the fall he took, there isn’t a scratch on him. 

When the bats join him, they give his notepad back to him, barely able to contain their laughter at the absurdity of it all. The kid, too, joins in the camaraderie, laughing and joking along with them as Batman secures the Joker. 

“Okay, okay, but I gotta ask, dude,” Red Hood says at one point, looking at the kid. “How do you keep getting kidnapped?”

The kid just shrugs. “I get distracted easily. And I’m sleep deprived, so you know. Social awareness is kind of at an all time low right now.”

“Why are you sleep deprived?” Nightwing asks, barely hidden concern in his voice. 

 “Finals are kinda kicking my ass right now. Especially this dumb English homework I have. You guys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, lucky for you,” Red Hood says, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders as he walks them out of the warehouse, “I happen to know a lot about English. So, it is Shakespeare?”

“Yeah, Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

As they walk off, Batman calmly watches, though the rest of the bats can see his jaw twitching. Nightwing comes up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“If you don’t adopt him, I will.”

“Hn.”

[biowho]

Here's every version of the letter the Inquisitor gets from their LI plus Varric (which didn't make me cry at all)

If your Inky didn't romance anyone:

Inquisitor, Greetings from miserable, rainy Minrathous! (Don't tell Dorian I called it that.) The rotten weather here is making me nostalgic for Skyhold. The mountains were freezing, but at least the air didn't smell like wet garbage. We'll have to get in another game of Wicked Grace, soon. Harding picked up the trail again. I'd tell you not to worry, but I know how useless that is. Instead, I'll just say: I've got a great team on this. Neve could stare down the Maker, and wait until you meet Rook. He's/She's/They're a natural: Smart, resourceful, completely unpredictable. You'd like him/her/them, as long as you don't try to beat him/her/them at cards. Chuckles'll never know what hit him. I'll write again once we have something solid for you. Drinks at the Hanged Man are on me when this is over. Take care of yourself. Varric

Blackwall:

My love, You have summoned me to Minrathous, and I will answer your call, as soon as responsibilities here in the South allow. I have missed being by your side. Will these troubles be the last we face? The world seems always to conspire, through duty or disaster, to pull you away from me. I do not resent it. You are dedicated to purposes far larger and more significant than myself. I hope you do not think me a fool for hoping that one day, your only concern will be the color you wish our walls to be painted, or the flowers we will plant beside our gate. I'm partial to carnations. Yours always, Thom

Cassandra:

My love, We are no strangers to duty, or the separation it demands of us. You head for Tevinter, and though I want to go with you, there is work we both must do. I will not falter in the tasks that wait before me and I pray my actions, in whatever measure they can, will keep you safe. The others see only confidence in my resolve, but you have always known more than mere appearance. I confess to you, and you alone, that I am afraid. I'm afraid of what may happen, that Thedas will face such turmoil as it did before. I know not what awaits us. Yet even in the face of uncertainty, there are two things I cannot doubt and never will. The first is that our paths are never separated long. That I will find you at my side when I need you, as you will find me at yours. I will play my part in this and follow as soon as I can. The second thing I never doubt is you. Whatever lies before you, trust yourself. Trust your heart as I trust it. It will not lead you astray. Yours, Cassandra

Cullen:

The top of the letter has been punctured by small, sharp teeth, leaving most of a beloved name and a few sentences chewed to read. I fear the puppy started on this letter shortly after I did. I'd start over, but I must send this tonight if it's to reach you. Matters are settled here and I make for Tevinter as soon as possible. I almost believed chaos might spare us this time. I can't say I wished to see Minrathous before now, but I am eager to see you. I long to see your face and know that you are all right. You are I've There's I wish I was better at putting into writing all that's in my mind. For now, simply know that I love you. It is the most cherished constant of my life. The days ahead will not be easy. I know there's much you carry, more than many realize. But whatever you must face, you will not meet it alone. You have my sword, my counsel, my - I could write this list forever when all I mean to say is this - Whatever you need of me, I am yours. Cullen

Dorian:

Amatus, I'm writing. Again. Yes, the sending crystals still work and yes, you'll be in Minrathous in a few short weeks. But a letter, written in blind longing, is real. It can be touched, and it can be held, when ink and paper must substitute for your skin on mine and my breath in your ear. I used to scoff at frequent declarations of affection. Trite, I thought. Save them for rare and precious moments. But time and love are no longer things I care to squander, especially not as we race again toward calamity. And so, in each of these fleeting, ephemeral seconds, I will tell you that I love you. Whether penned or spoken, or conveyed by glance or action, I love you. In this moment, and in all the moments to come, for as long as they do, I love you. I will find you soon. Yours, Dorian

Iron Bull

Hey, Kadan, Not the first time we've marched toward different battles. I know you're keeping the crap from catching fire up in Tevinter. Wish I could be there, but I'll make sure there's a world for you to come back to when you're done dealing with crazy vints and stupid Antaam and whatever other crap Solas kicked up. (Shit, the Antaam. Remember when I was worried what would happen if I went tal-vashoth? That right there!) I know you're gonna be careful, and you've got Morrigan there. Just take care of yourself. If anything happens to you, I'm going to have to take Krem and the Chargers and stomp across all of Tevinter to come get you. It'll be a whole thing, and you know it'll upset Dorian. Being apart from you made me realize something else. I spent so long being whatever the Ben-Hassrath wanted me to be. An investigator. An agent. A mercenary sending reports. These past years, since the Inquisition ended, I've been able to just be what I want to be. And what I really want to be is yours. I like the person I am when I'm with you. So come back safe. Love, The signature appears to be a stylized rendering of the Iron Bull's head.

Josephine:

My Dearest Lord/Lady, I have spoken to friends in Minrathous. They offer us their hospitality, not to mention shelter from the worst intrigues of the Archon's Palace. While you're well acquainted with the roving eyes of grand courts, please take care. Tevinter's regard can be the oldest and cruelest of them all. The family writes the weather back home is beautiful. I do miss our quiet times together. There is a question I've wanted to ask you for so long. I would like to pretend I have been busy, or it was not the proper time. But, if I am being honest, I only waited because I have been afraid of choosing a poor moment. Please, let me make a promise to you here. When we return to Antiva, I will ask you, on the steps of the estate, if you will do me a great honor. And I dream you will say yes. Always yours, Josephine Postscript: I cannot believe it nearly slipped my mind. Yvette and Lord Otranto send their best wishes, and hope to see us back home in time to welcome their third child.

Sera:

(An artistically doodled journal page presumably from the Inquisitor's partner, Sera.) Keep this as close as I need you. (A drawing of a pile of flowers, with lines like it's moving, an arrow pointing to it labeled "us.") - North again, Mini-wrathus still stuck up its own pucker. - Magiturds are scared of us. They don't even know. - We work with Maevaris, right? She's wow. - So many Friends! Jennies in all the walls! - We kill him this time. He took from us twice! (A drawing of a cracked egg scribbled out, with "can't even joke" in letters that tore the page.) - Still thinking of you sideways. - Never mind the Dalish, here's the Veil Jumpers! Tempest-kin! (A drawing of a tall, shorthaired elf (Sera?) and Irelin brandishing two fingers, backflipping as a tree explodes in runes.) - The memory thing makes my head spin. If that Rook doesn't take it, throw it out. - Tell Morrigan ppbbth! for me. - I'll also tell her ppbbth! She knows why. - Tell them to Stripe. Him. Up. I wanted more books. (More heavy scribbles that tear.) - You meet; I'll keep you safe. Then I'm your time off, and you're my time on. (The last section has different colored inks, like Sera has returned to it several times.) New naked names: -Sweet-tits (scribbled out) -Bestest (scribbled out) -Loverly (scribbled out) -Lovey (scribbled out) -My-for-always-and-ever - name's not too long, time's too short. -But "Sweet-tits," though (scribbled out)

Solas:

Vhenan, I do not know if you will see these words. My ritual is ready and will soon be set in motion. Perhaps when you read this the world will be as it once was, and you will see why all I did was necessary. I cannot ask your forgiveness, but I hope you come to understand. That night in Crestwood, when I shared the truth about your vallaslin... you do not know how close I came to breaking. I could have shared the truth, or even put my plans aside and simply stayed with you as Solas... as I wanted. I regret the pain I caused you. What I feel for you will never change. The note is unsigned, but the handwriting is Solas'.