#SeekJoy

[leonys1713]

"Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light" - JK Rowling

[toriroze]

Exploring all the surrounding towns & cities of the San Francisco Bay Area. I went to school in Santa Cruz, but always found myself in San Francisco, specific parts of Berkeley or specific parts of Oakland on my days off…This is Lake Elizabeth…I’m going to go skate around her today 🏔️🛼❤️💦🌲 • #exploring #bayarea #nature #lakeelizabeth #lake #seekjoy #seekadventure #meditation #discoversanfrancisco https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn4vihdJjuM/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[wickedlehane]

HUGS feat. Faith with Buffy (let’s be real, i cannot possibly tag every incredible buffy I know), @lostsovl, and Angel (namely @perfectanguish)

TAGGED BY: @pryceism

TAGGING: [you!]

[jawlost]

                        @seekjoy​​ said:  "That's a pretty nasty bruise. Want some ice?"

sometimes,  porco thought that andy was one of the most brilliant and intelligent people he knew, then sometimes,  like now,  he knew he had thought wrong.   “ tell me you’re kidding... ”  he had hoped she was, but he could never be too sure, after all. head hitting the rather hard pillow of the infirmary, a small hiss lets itself pass through his mouth as his eyes sharply close. a soft string of profanities slip from his mouth and he’s shaking his head. 

porco was getting far too familiar with these hospital beds, angry at himself for getting hurt and angry at everyone else, too. but not her, no. never her. 

“ how long have you been here? ”  his voice if soft, as though it too is bound by bandages. despite porco’s eyes being opened now, he still mostly refused to look down his torso at the mess he was sure his abdomen would be in, remembering vaguely one of the doctors saying how ‘it wasn’t pretty’. another scar to his collection, another tally etched into a wall. if he was a shifter, this wouldn’t have happened. if he was a shifter, he wouldn’t still be stuck here in this shithole. but if he was a shifter, he’d never had met andy. he muses silently, hoping it plays off as idle pain from the wound. porco didn’t want to imagine a world where he’d not met her. “ who’s watching the stall? ” 

[spentfaith-moved]

         @seekjoy​  said  :  “ we’re so full of sugar, honey, ice and tea. ”

Gabi often thought that had Hange been one of the scientists that resided back in Marley, then maybe she’d have actually gotten along with them. Bite back her tongue a little harder and sit a little more still while they spent hours running her through test after test. So many tests and she wasn’t even a warrior yet. It scared her a little to what her future may have held but… that was then. The future now was so disgustingly different, Gabi almost struggled to even look that far in her past. 

Everywhere she looked, broken buildings and torn earth surrounded her, reminding her and everyone of the hell they had been through. But Hange’s voice and erraticism broke through it all like nothing she’d quite experienced. Gabi had never met anyone quite like them before, even through all the pain and loss, Hange still radiated… something. There was still the obvious wedge and strain between paradisian and warrior, a blanket thrown over the issues for the sake of the world was soon ripped away, forcing them all to meet ugly truths. Gabi, despite her revelations, still had her reserves, but she considered herself one of the few that was happy to work towards fixing the broken bridge between them. 

“ You… you know you can say shit, right ?  ”  She looks to Hange, a look of confusion on her face as Gabi’s eyes knit a little closer together. Was she really trying to sugar-coat a curse word? Clearly, Hange didn’t know Gabi that well yet. She ponders briefly if she should keep up the guise, but with every second word being some base form of profanity, Gabi soon retcons the idea.  “ I might be a kid but I’m not exactly what you would call sheltered. ”  The streets of Liberio would attest to her rather mature vocabulary.  “ And speak for yourself, you may be full of shit, but I sure as hell aint. ”

[massensterben-a]

@seekjoy​ / illdeed:    ❝  you can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.  ❞

The ground sways gently under his feet. It rises and sinks to the steady beating of the waves as they roll against the docks. The metal has a way of creaking and groaning that wood can't emulate. He's out there on the deck and listens to the gulls, white tatters in the orange sky that dip into the water and rocket back up into the clouds with banshee shrieks and hectic grace. Bertholdt has not seen seagulls in years. He forgot them, to tell the truth. Reared by the sea, he always considered them commonplace, not worth remarking upon. Now he can't get enough of them.

Their cries herald a different world, the bridge to a land where his life is on standby, where he has been cut out only to be transplanted into this horror story. But then, he supposes he shouldn't trust the birds. Anybody who claims that things will be different somewhere else is selling something. Zeke is not saying that but that's just because he's a better salesman.

His war chief found him out here, a lean shadow against the wind-swept horizon, staring out at a harbor he cannot see, merely guess the direction of. His attention was once such a coveted good, so precious and rare. Bertholdt strove for it as a child, eagerly by heel, until he outgrew the praise and caution his superior could bestow. Zeke has always been such a dualistic presence in Bertholdt’s mind, both comfort and warning. When he saw what remained of Ragako, he was the only one who understood what he was seeing. And his heart almost rent itself in two, torn between sobbing relief and shrieking fear.

It is still going. The noise in his heart and head drowns out any better judgment. If he were five years old, maybe Zeke could be persuaded to hold him, to pat his head and make a joke to cheer him up. But that magic has long lost its luster and he is sixteen now and Zeke is a stranger. All confiding is done under the protective shield of ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’. Bertholdt talks about how long it’s been, how different he feels now, because they must talk about something. If he thinks of the girl in the ship’s hold, writing her dying heart out, her will and testament, then he can’t keep his breathing even.

How fitting, that Zeke would reassure him with a metaphor, some trick of the language, nothing concrete, another magic trick. You are still a weapon. That is all he says. They didn’t know what to do with you, but I will use you correctly. I will bring you back to your purpose. And Bertholdt supposes he should thank him for the consideration. All his decorum calcifies in his throat, a smooth stone he can’t swallow. Bertholdt stares at the sea, watches it blur.

Of course, to a man with a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. Bertholdt knew that. Marley has not changed. Zeke has not changed. It is himself who has been abstracted and perverted by his time away. He grew up as if behind the looking glass, cut off from the real world, trapped in some fairytale where monsters are just monsters and friendship prevails. And then the real world came crashing back. The animal splinter in his soul shivers in disdain. He wants a different world, a different nature. He wants all his friends back.

No. Stop whining. Don’t be a child. You have a job to do. You have nothing else now.

“Yes, sir. I suppose I will just have to remember that. It’s been difficult, living with them. But we will do whatever it takes.”

[dehducer]

                                          @seekjoy​ said:   ‘I’ll only eat half.’

 𝐈𝐧  𝐚𝐧𝐲  𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫  𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞❟  𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐝  𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞  𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞  𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭  𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝  𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩.  Be  pleased  that  the  idle  chatter  and  drunken  conversations  weren’t  overpowering  and  all  consuming,  but  there  was  something  eerie  in  the  silence  now.  The  tension  was  almost  palpable,  believing  if  she  reached  upward  then  her  fingers  would  be  slowed  in  the  thickness.  People  still  spoke,  quiet  conversations  between  smaller  groups  breaking  out  and  the  occasional  sound  of  cutlery  scraping  against  a  plate  cutting  through  it.  Pieck  had  decided  to  join  them,  comrade  new  and  old,  instead  of  staying  in  her  titan.  Her  monster.  Her  safety.  The  steam  from  its  decaying  body  filtered through  from  the  tree  line,  festering  away  in  the  night.

 On  any  other  night,  she’d  have  stayed  hidden  away  in  her  flesh  home,  find  comfort  within  it’s  walls  and  rest  for  what  could  have  been  the  last  time  she  was  able  to.  Anxiety  beating  her  in  the  end,  she  figured  some  company  was  better  than  none  on  a  night  that  could  be  her  last.  Pieck  had  curled  in  on  herself,  knees  brought  to  her  chest  and  arms  hugging  as  her  eyes  bore  into  the  fire.  Chin  resting  atop  her  knees,  she  wasn’t  sure  how  long  she’d  been  staring  so  intensely  into  it’s  flames,  longing  for  nothing  but  a  reality  she’d  never  be  granted.  ‘I’ll  only  eat  half.’  The  words  felt  like  cold  water  poured  down  her  neck,  snapping  her  completely  from  her  state  of  discontent.  No  answer  former  in  her  throat,  eyes  fixed  on  the  plate  in  Jean’s  hands.  Pieck  almost  wanted  to  laugh.

 Twice  she’d  tried  to  kill  him,  once  he  tried  to  kill  her.  Here  he  was  now,  plate  with  enough  food  barely  sufficient  enough  for  himself  offered  to  her.  War  was  cruel,  a  weapon  ought’ve  known,  but  it  was  also  strange  how  quickly  grievances  could  be  forgotten  among  enemies.  His  body  was  warm  as  it  sat  next  to  her,  uninvited  but  not  unwelcome,  she  didn’t  move  from  her  spot  save  for  her  head  tilting  to  look  at  Jean  better.  “  You  don’t  have  to  be  nice  to  me.  ”  Her  words  were  serious,  but  not  malicious.  Soft  in  their  nature  as  her  eyes  softened,  too.  “  You  need  it  more  than  i  do.  Keep  it.  ”  Unfurling  like  the  delicate  flower  so  many  expected  her  to  be,  pieck’s  arms  instead  chose  to  cross  over  her  chest  as  her  legs  relaxed.  She  still  felt  like  a  wolf  in  sheep’s  clothing  in  the  jacket  that  matched  his,  but  she  had  no  other  choice.

 The  emptiness  in  her  chest  that  had  been  created  with  the  loss  and  betrayal  of  her  friends  had  never  felt  so  apparent  than  it  did  in  this  moment.  Kindness  from  the  people  she’d  been  brainwashed  to  hate.  People  she  still  may  have  hated.  One  of  them,  him,  offering  it  to  her  as  though  they  were  old  soldiers  at  a  bar.  She  had  never  felt  more  alone.  “  I’ll  be  fine.  Thank  you  though,  Jean.  ”  

[flawedhearts]

❛ Are you okay? Did they hurt you? ❜ / ROBB & ELLA

If it had been anyone else, she would have put up that headstrong front almost immediately. Nobody was allowed to see the emotional weakness of a Heart, alliances had to be forged from strength alone and as her parents often reminded her, those wolves from the North bit. Years ago, she might have been inclined to believe such claims but now, after years spent yearning for familiarity, it was hard to reconcile such an image with someone who had never once hurt her.

But by his very presence alone, she was under incredible scrutiny. Yet she wouldn’t turn Robb away, not if every instinct told her that her punishment for going past looking at him would be much worse than what she’d already received. Her blunt nails dug into her palm as she turned to look at him, and without prying eyes she was able to just take in what time had done to him.

As much as time hadn’t been friendly to Ella, he looked completely exhausted. Without much for a second thought she’d crossed the room in a heartbeat. For a moment she forgot about the bruises at her throat as she craned her neck to look up at him, “You’ve not been sleeping.” There was no room for argument, it was glaringly obvious to anyone who bothered to pay any attention.

“That is far worse than anything they’ve done to me here. You’re far more important than a former bannerman’s daughter.”

some meme i'm not looking for | @seekjoy

[neveragreeable]

       ‘  WHAT’RE  YOU  LOOKIN’  AT ,  WEIRDIE ?  ’   he’s  surprised  her ,  appearing  so  suddenly  in  her  doorway .  friggin’  creepy ,  that  is .   she  doesn’t  get  why  the  inquisitor  keeps  him  around .   must  be  good  at  the  stabbing  thing  he  does ,  but  even  then ?   is  that  really  worth  the  mind-reading  spirit-y  bullshit ?   ‘  there’s  nothin  for  you  here ,  so  why  don’t  you  just  piss  off ?   go  bother  elfy .  ’    and  she  turns  back  to  her  parchment ,  where  she’s  scribbling  stick  figures  of  inquisition  members .   under  her  pencil ,   a  mess  of  lines  making  up  cullen’s  fur  takes  shape .

@seekjoy liked for a starter

[contrariian-archive]

       ‘   YOU  LOOK  CHEERY  AS  ALWAYS .  ’   said  with  a  signature ,  patent-pending  deacon  grin ,  the  spy  slides  into  a  seat  across  from  his . . .  coworker ?  pal  of  a  pal ?   who  knows ?  not  deacon ;   he’s  not  used  to  the  kind  of  vulnerability  that  comes  from  being  partners  with  the  world’s  most  soft-hearted  yet  bad-ass  vaultie .    not  used  to  people  knowing  that  he’s  around ,  knowing  anything  about  him .   especially  not  people  like  her .    ‘  wish  i  could  say  i  have  a  present  for  you ,  but . . .  ’   he  clicks  his  tongue ,  shrugs  fluidly ,  and  reaches  into  his  pocket .   a  deck  of  cards  is  produced  with  a  flourish ,   the  kind  of  showmanship  any  new  reno  magician  would  be  jealous  of .   ta-dah !

       ‘  what  i  do  have  is  the  once-in-a-lifetime  opportunity  to  play  caravan  with  me .  ’   what  can  he  say ?  he’s  bored .

@seekjoy liked for a starter

[willowdied]

@seekjoy​ :  ❝ i know i shouldn’t miss them, but… i was grateful for those moments. ❞

eyebrows raise as she turns away from the dish she was doing, rag still in hand ( a mundane task, something she really hadn’t thought she would ever be doing in her life which was something she did not mind being wrong about all too much ). it was somehow both strange to think of both them before they had settled into this and that they were able to get away from that too, the militia. certainly it wasn’t all bad, for one, they were taught how to defend themselves and they were somewhat cared for, by some more than others which she assumed that riley was referring too, but she didn’t usually think about the soft moments like the other did. 

the thought, though, her girlfriend’s words.... it was enough make her set down the towel and fully stop the task she was doing, approach, and wrap her arms around her as she fell back in silent thought, thinking back.

“ do you miss them? ” she asked, smiling a little. “ ...you know i don’t think that’s wrong of you. i guess sometimes i get lost in all the bullshit and down moments. not the not so bad. ” her head hit her shoulders, relaxing just a little bit. “ i do not know if i miss them, but it’s strange to think of then , though, i do know what you mean. ” she tilted her head. “ they lead us here, to easier times which i do not mind. i know that. ” 

[torntruth]

𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝚂𝙴𝙲𝚄𝚁𝙸𝚃𝚈  𝙾𝙵  𝙳𝙸𝙰𝙼𝙾𝙽𝙳  𝙲𝙸𝚃𝚈  𝙸𝚂  𝚂𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙻𝚈  𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙴𝙳  𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽  𝙿𝙸𝙿𝙴𝚁  𝙸𝚂𝙽'𝚃  𝙸𝙽  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚂  𝙾𝙵  𝙸𝚃'𝚂  𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚂.    The  chaos  outside  of  it’s  walls  is  just  as  frightening,   if  not  more,   than  what  people  describe.    Diamond  City,   while  called  The  Green  Jewel  for  it’s  wall,   is  severely  underappreciated  in  it’s  security.   It  wouldn’t  even  be  that  safe  had  it  not  been  for  her  or  Nicky.     Piper  stops,   10  MM  pistol  in  her  fingerless  gloved  hands.    A  breath  in.

“   Hey,   Red?   ”     Piper  asks,   head  tilted,   brown  eyes  staring  at  the  back  of  Cait’s  shoulder.     Everyone  gets  a  nickname,   that  isn’t  the  special  part.     “   You  ever  been  to  Diamond  City?   ”      That  is.    It’s  not  that  Diamond  City  is  a  secret,   it’s  that  Piper  doesn’t  bring  it  up  unless  she’s  starting  to  trust  someone.    Diamond  City  is  home  to  the  most  precious  thing  to  Piper:     her  little  sister.     She  certainly  doesn’t  bring  Nat  up  unless  the  person -    like  blue -    is  already  aware  of  Nat. That’s  probably  the    “I  found  my  Dad  dead  because  of  betrayal”   trauma.    The  sun  buzzes.    Blue  trusts  Cait.    That’s  her  outer  reasoning,   but  deep  down,   there’s  just  something  about  Cait  she’d  like  to  have  by  her  side  when  traveling  back  to  Diamond  City.    Not  something  she  wants  to  do  alone.    Preston’s  busy.    Nick  is  out  at  Far  Harbor  with  Blue.    Danse  is  Brotherhood.    Mac’ll   ask  for  money.    She’s  certainly  not  going  to  ask  a  Super  Mutant.    Deacon  is  always -     anyway,   these  are  all  just  excuses.   She  asked  approached  Cait  before  anyone  else.

Under  the  roof  of  this  red  rocket,   falling  apart  because  nobody’s  touched  it.   Maybe  they  will  now.

discussed  starter  for  @seekjoy​ .

[wickedlehane]

“Ever have a dog, Faith? I did. Rusty, Irish Setter.”

The streets of Sunnydale were lined with ghosts, metaphorically speaking. But, for all the dead people she knew and the undead creatures she fought, you’d think Faith would know some actual ghosts. Like, the Casper kind at least.

No, these silver-lined phantoms were memories, more so. Ringing in her ears as she walked the nighttime roads. What had brought her back after all this time was Buffy’s death, but it was Buffy’s resurrection that was keeping her here. Damn Scoobies always trying to be the big, stupid heroes. Not that she wanted Buffy to stay dead, but things were different now. They were older, for one. They’d lost friends, made some new ones. Faith had been in prison for just a hair over two years, which did not a reformed sinner make, but she was trying. Damn it, she was trying. And Buffy’d been in Heaven. Or as close to it as any of them would ever get.

“When I was a kid, I used to beg my mom for a dog. Didn’t matter what kind, I just wanted, you know, something to love. A dog’s all I wanted.”

Buffy now had dropped out of college- the same one where the brunette Slayer had attacked Blondie on her last trip in town. Hell, half the city had been torn down since Faith was last here, and everything seemed new. But she saw the scars of the old buildings that had been resurfaced. The potholes were filled in darker, with a black asphalt that hadn’t yet been bleached by the sun. Joyce was gone. Angel moved away. Buffy was dead, again, for real. Until she wasn’t anymore.

Everything here was gossamer, flitting in front of her eyes, dancing in the cool moonlight breeze. And maybe if she ripped the sheet off these ghosts, she’d see there was nothing there after all.

“A dog’s friendship is stronger than reason- stronger than its own sense of self-preservation.”

Faith was taking patrol solo tonight. B needed a break and the other Slayer absolutely needed out of that house, what with Willow and Xander constantly giving her crap like she was going to stab them at any moment. One, for the record, Faith was the original stab-ee. Secondly, the more they suggested it, the better the idea sounded. So she needed to clear her head before she gave anyone a reason to throw her ass back in the slammer.

Most of the town was patched up from when she’d seen it on the news, or even when she’d first rolled through. First found Buffy’s grave and all. People were moving on too, going on with their lives. Something that always freaked Faith out a little- people had futures to work towards. She had a past to run from. But with the other Slayer and the bond they shared? She had a present, which was more than she used to be able to say. Solid ground under her feet, and while some of her past was buried beneath it, Buffy was not. She was right beside Faith, even if the earth was sharp and soft, turned up from where she’d clawed herself out.

After a while trolling the graveyards for a while, Faith spotted a pair of vampires with their heads stuck in a bush. As much as she’d love staking them right up the ass, if they we lettin’ their guard down like that, must’ve been something worthwhile in the grass. She approached slowly, quietly enough to hear-

“Well, it’s not a kitten, but we gotta have something to ante.”

“Grab it, damn you!”

Faith snuck up behind and cleared her throat. One vampire turned around just soon enough to see her jam a combat boot square into the back flank of the other vampire, whose head got lodged between some thick branches. “Sorry, boys. Hate to interrupt a little bush-dive for some pussy, but I got a job to do.”

A brief scuffle ensued but Faith dispatched the vampires easily- these two were definitely no criminal masterminds. It took the Slayer only a few moments and then she was on her knees, digging through the shrubs to search for whatever it was they’d been so intent on grabbing.

“Oh shit.”

It was a slip of a thing, small, wrinkly, and underfed. The puppy’s blue nose was red with scratches from the underbrush and its whimper was small and broken. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Faith cooed, her voice small to match the dog’s. Looked like it was a grey pitbull or something, but she wasn’t really sure. Didn’t know all the fancy breeds- as far as she was concerned, they were all just ‘puppies’ to her. “Those big ol’ monsters aren’t going to bite you. I gotcha.”

Faith managed to break out some of the branches and untangle the puppy. “Look at you, you got a name or something? A family I can take you back to?” She turned the lump of dog- so small she could cup him in both hands- around to see if there was a collar or anything.

“Nothing. Huh,” she muttered. The Slayer didn’t want to get excited- this dog was probably someone’s. Someone who loved and missed him very much. But he was also so small, so young. Easily overlooked. She’d sweep for signs, maybe a phone number posted or something. But she had to make sure the little guy stayed warm in the meantime- no more vamps, no more thorns.

Faith stood up, brushing the dirt from her knees, keeping the puppy tucked close to her side. “You want...” She waggled her wooden stake in front of the little thing’s nose and then immediately realized it was far too big for him. She chuckled. “Nah, never mind. Sorry about that. You cold?” Tucking her stake into her pants pocket, the Slayer zipped up her jacket a little more and put the puppy against her chest, cradling him like a child. This is the puppy she’d always wanted as a kid- well, granted, she didn’t expect a lost, cold, underfed baby who’d probably been tangled up in that bush far longer than a little thing like that should be. But...

Damn it, she wouldn’t get attached. Not while the dog could still be someone else’s.

“Alright, you little chunk. Let’s get something to eat. I’ll take you back to B’s place and if I find your family, we’ll call ‘em up, okay?”

Little Chunk whimpered against her chest while Faith wondered the fastest way to get to a drive-thru from here. Figured she could get a burger and give the dog some- it was too late to find a pet store now anyways. This felt good. It felt right- responsible, even.

-

By the time Faith had gotten the burger, had her own meal, and then managed to feed some to the timid dog, it was way late. Not really worth getting back out for patrol, but as far as she was concerned, there was nothing apocalyptic going on tonight. She approached the steps of the Summers household cradling the now-dozing dog- who she kept referring to as “a little chunk of a puppy”- close to her chest. “Hey, Buffy, I need your help here,” she called, knocking on the door.

The blonde threw open the front door in a flash, her eyes somewhat wide with concern. “Faith, are you oka- what are you holding?” Her sharp concern softened at the sight of the dog. “Oh my god, I thought you were stabbed and bleeding or something.”

Faith chuckled softly at Blondie’s concern and then simply held the dog closer to her fellow Slayer. “Had a run in with some vamps. Nothing we couldn’t handle. So... can he stay with us tonight?”

[dutydreamed-a]

@seekjoy​ said: “ you can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending. ”

        SHE  IS  GOING  TO  DIE .   lanathara  has  known  it  since  the  anchor  started  acting  up  again ,  pain  she  hasn’t  felt  since  she  first  awoke  at  haven .   i  wish  it  hadn’t  been  me .   words  spoken  in  a  moment  of  frustration ,  terror — words  that  aren’t  even  true .   and  leliana  is  right ;  she  can’t  change  the  past .  and  now  she  is  mired  in  plots  upon  plots ,  with  orlais  and  ferelden  breathing  down  her  neck ,  having  just  found  her  twin  brother  moments  away  from  getting  his  head  taken  off  by  a  ben-hassrath  sword ,  and  she  is  dying .

          the  inquisitor  sighs .   ‘  right .   first ,  i  need  to  talk  to  silvhen .   if  he  is  an  agent  of  fen’harel ,   he  might  know  what  dragon’s  breath  is .   he  might  also  know  why  the  qunari  are  convinced  we’re  working  for  fen’harel .  ’   she  flexes  her  marked  hand ,  wincing  at  the  crackle  of  magic  across  in  her  palm .    ‘  second ,  i  stop  the  qunari .  third ,  i  figure  out  what  fen’harel  wants .   then  orlais  and  ferelden  can  tear  apart  my  decisions  all  they  want .  ’    she  scoffs .     ‘  it  won’t  matter  for  long ,  anyway .   slander  hardly  matters  to  you  once  you’re —  ’

          she’s  never  going  to  see  her  parents  again ,  or  eirlana ,  or  fellenaste .   she’ll  never  see  solas  again ,  or  hear  his  voice .    the  realization  tightens  in  her  throat ,  her  face  goes  hot ,  but  lanathara  swallows  it  down .   no   time  to  regret ,  no  time  to  grieve .   she  has  work  to  do .   first ,  though —

         she  reaches  out  with  her  unmarked  hand  and  clasps  leliana’s  with  a  near-imperceptible  tremor .   ‘  thank  you ,  ma  falon .   for  everything .   especially  for  trying  to  find  him .  ’   solas .   even  if  they  never  succeeded ,  leliana  even  trying  means  the  world  to  her .  ‘  i  know  you  did  it  because  you  wanted  answers ,  but  i —  ’   she  inhales  sharply  as  the  anchor  pulses  again .  ‘  leliana .  if  you  find  him ,  after  all  this ,  there  are . . .   letters ,  in  my  quarters  at  skyhold .  ‘  

         there  are  letters  in  her  guest  rooms  here ,  too ,  but  her  friends  will  find  those  easily  enough .   goodbyes ,  every  single  one ,  neatly  addressed  to  her  inner  circle  in  her  delicate  handwriting  &  anointed  with  perfume  of  cedar  and  rose .   ‘  two  years  worth  of  loving  him  and  writing  it  in  ink ,  ’   she  laughs ,  all  self-deprecation .  ‘  maybe  he  doesn’t  deserve  that ,  or  something  to  remember  me  by ,  but  promise  me  you’ll  give  them  to  him  if  you  ever  get  the  chance ?  ’

MISC. QUOTES

[dirtymercy]

@seekjoy SENT : “ i dreamt about you last night. ” for satine/christian? / SIX WORDS.

   He loved everything about these moments. Rare things, precious things, things that fuelled him in all the moments between. She so seldom was free to stay with him over night, what with all the demands on her from the Moulin Rouge and the other men in her life. But they had carved the shape of them into this moment in time and space without resistance, and now fell seamlessly into it. His arms moved around her as if that would secure them here, here in this bed, forevermore. He did not want to think about leaving, about the day ahead of them, about anything other than the things they could whisper between the silence that sang whenever he kissed her. Fingers carted through her hair, tugging gently against the ends of curls, his palm moving down her spine to lay flatly there against her back. Her murmured words against his chest had him chuckling throatily, voice rough from sleep and lack thereof. 

   Oh, this was happiness. This was the thing he would spend hours, days, trying to put into words that would satisfy his yearning soul, his bleeding heart. He needed to memorialize it, this singularity in the universe. Her. Him. Everything felt between them.

   "Tell me,” Christian said softly, voice barely any louder than hers had been. It wasn’t necessary -- she was close enough to him to hear his heartbeat, surely she could very well read his thoughts with how entwined they were. “What do you dream, Satine?”

[spentfaith-moved]

                              @seekjoy​ said : you could use a little pick-me-up.

 When  did  things  stop  being  coincidences  and  start  becoming  fate?  Was  there  a  specific  number?  Or,  perhaps  was  there  some  other  unspoken  stigma  as  to  where  the  line  in  the  sand  would  be  crossed  from  one  to  another?  Wade  didn’t  know  what  it  was,  but  he  hoped  the  brunette  across  the  bar  who’d  been  throwing  eyes  at  him  for  the  past  few  weeks  was  about  to  figure  it  out  with  him.  Wade  was  always  so  very  forward  about  what  it  was  that  he  wanted,  so  when  it  was  her  to  make  the  first  step  into  something  else,  his  heart  almost  flew  straight  out  his  ass. 

 “  Am  I  that  obviously  miserable?  ”  A  toothy  grin  offered  as  his  bar  stool  was  scooted  along  to  make  space  for  her,  grabbing  one  from  the  other  side  of  him  and  putting  it  down  in  the  vacant  spot.  He  had  to  wonder  though,  what  a  girl  like  her  was  doing  in  such  a  dead-beat,  rundown  bar  like  this.    A  crawling  cesspit  of  washed  up  mercs  with  about  as  much  as  they  had  teeth  in  their  head.  Though  it  wasn’t  like  she  stuck  out  like  a  sore  thumb,  quite  the  opposite  actually,   she  almost  blended  in  with  the  rest  of  them.  Almost.   Wade  wasn’t  always  the  most  observant  of  people,  sure.  He  would  be  the  very  first  to  admit  that,  but  he  did  notice  when  she  first  started  popping  up.  When  their  gazes  have  been  exchanged  from  across  the  bar  or  when  he’d  bump  her  back  with  his  elbow  trying  to  get  to  the  bathroom.  Whatever  it  was  couldn’t  be  called  a  coincidence  now,  could  it?

 “  Then  again,  you  have  been  watching  me  for  the  past  week  so  I  guess  it’s  probably  not  that  obvious.  ”  Cheeky  as  ever,   Wade  reached  for  the  drink  she’d  bought  for  him  and  took  a  very  loud  and  almost  obnoxious  slurp.  “  Jessica,  right?  ”  He  wasn’t  stupid.    He  did  his  homework.  He  wouldn’t  have  a  job  if  he  didn’t.