#i wanna write them together so much

[soulcluster-moved]

@trustbutvcriify / jeralt “I’ve got everything under control.”

"It has been twenty years now. I am only making sure that all your accommodations are to your liking. Rhea informed me that this was your office previously, but if you need anything please let me know."

There were so many unknowns about Jeralt and his recently arrived child and Seteth did not like unknowns. His demeanor was cordial but there was no way to completly hide the under layer of suspicion he held. If Jeralt was half the man Rhea praised him to be, then he could surely sense it as well.

Yet Seteth could not help himself. He and Flayn weren't simply here to wile away the days, and while the monastery was plenty safe that didn't stop him from worrying when suspicious strangers, who had left under mysterious circumstances, returned without warning. Rhea was acting strange too, but Seteth only had so much he could place on his plate right now.

"My office is across the hall, should you have need of my services." Strangely, he could not help the feeling that he would be seeing a lot of Jeralt, and he was not sure if that was good or bad. There was something about him that Seteth couldn't put his finger on.

[laurrelise]

steve blackman, when you were deciding that it was crucial for five to have a fucking romance plotline with his brother’s wife did you also find it crucial for five and said brother to have several sweet heart-to-heart moments throughout the season just to lead to them dying with a deep hatred for each other

[idontmindifuforgetme]

I don’t understand it when people say that Carrie was also the problem bc she was anxiously attached bc like …. maybe she had a moment or two but for the most part it was absolutely Big being such a selfish prick and then justifying it w “ohhh I have commitment issues bc my last marriage fell through” umm ur a 45 year old BABY actually

[volivolition]

part of that "raising a kid au" i was working on, this is almost definitely not how skill checks work and i don't even know if i'll include this, but for now i think it's. so funny kjkgj

[saetiate]

gooooood morning !!! ^.^ ooooooh it feels like a bit of a lazy day today for me zzz but i will do my best to get things done!!! i hope you have the strength and capability to get through whatever it is you wanna do today!!!

[louthestarspeaker]

You guys!! Dal's captain arc in season two is literally him just learning to trust that people will watch out for him and care about him and the institutions that are supposed to keep him safe and his crew safe and actually have his best interest at heart, I'm not the only one who thinks this right?? <- girl who thought too hard about Dal R'El and now needs to write an essay and maybe cry a little about him

[jonathanbyersphd]

Anyways, if they kill Nancy I will consider that a GoT level of bad ending

[crownedwille]

.

[wellhalesbells]

Writing game: post the last line that you wrote and tag someone for every word in the line.

tagged by @wolfspurr! thanks for thinking of me, ladybug!

this is just... not gonna make any sense and it's not even close to the last line i've written of this sterek fic, just the last line i've fiddled with (i'm having a love affair with the magic in it, what can i say)

He pulls and pulls and pulls, his hands growing slick with his own blood, sweat pouring down his back, spitting glass and pink saliva, until he’s yanked the last of it from the ground and the plant stutters, reshapes, and a woman is lying on the ground.

tagging (i'm not gonna do every word 'cause i am a run-on sentence nightmare, as per yooj, but uhhh): @piratefalls, @andavs, @alocalband, @kikiroo, @rosieposiepuddingnpie and anyone else who wants in!

also, uhhh, context below if you're curious (stiles is fine, i swear) :)

He had expected a hallway, some pathway between one place and the next, but instead he’s in a room with rich, heavy curtains, a gold thread glittering through the — no, endless open windows looking out onto a vast — an overstuffed greenhouse, sprawling with — a moth-eaten pool hall, the click of — a stable so dilapidated that he can feel drops of — a corner wreathed in shad — Stiles grabs his chin and pulls it low so Derek’s wide eyes meet his.

He murmurs softly, “How ‘bout I take this one, big guy?”  Derek blinks at him.  He doesn’t understand the request but he doesn’t understand most of what’s gone on today.  In the same tone, Stiles prompts, “You remember what we’re looking for?”

And the second Derek does, there’s a snap that’s not so much sound as it is the rush of air settling and the soles of his boots sink into soft peat.  The wet scent of moss and mud and still water overwhelms him and a bout of light-headedness threatens to level him.  He takes a step with the express purpose of planting his feet and opens his eyes, not remembering closing them.

Branches crowd them overhead, one mere inches from the top of his head, the gentle rustle of its leaves in the barely noticeable breeze tickling along his every sense.  He can’t see the pond or bog or marsh but he can smell it.  Instead there’s dirt and trees and petals and seeds and slithering, clomping sounds in heavy underbrush.

“Wh — ere are we?”  His voice is croaky, feeling the intimidation his squared shoulders are fighting back.

Stiles steps lightly through the growth.  “Archives,” he says, his voice fading as the buzz of a dragonfly drifts closer for a moment, “I thought you were all about silent observation?  Only said it right in front of your face.”  He stills a moment, tuts, and then looks down at his feet.

He wiggles his bare toes against the soft mud, bends down to roll up his jeans midway up his calves.  He sniffs.  “Better.”

“What—”

Stiles glances back at him, brow furrowing.  “Tell me you weren’t expecting… what?  File cabinets?  Licenses and bureaucracy?  It’s fucking magic, Broody Butt.”  He looks up, pulls down something globular and doesn’t hesitate to take a bite out of it.

His hair flutters as though caught in a strong storm, his eyes flare a color Derek doesn’t have in his vocabulary, and his toes dig into the dirt.  He tosses the fruit Derek doesn’t recognize over his shoulder.

“That was — ”

“Pure magical energy,” Stiles says with a nod, as though that was what Derek was going to say.  “The registry, it’s not too Big Brother or too worrywart about it these days so most mages participate without any civil servants having to knock down their doors.  The consequence to using unregistered magic is punitive enough that it’s worth the few hours of answering a fussy librarian’s questions and giving a little light show.”

Derek considers that, ducking under a branch after Stiles.  He reaches towards a bush, pulls off a few berries and rolls them between his palms.  After a few revolutions, he crushes them flat, but what escapes isn’t juice, it’s steam.  He breathes it in, taking it deep into his lungs.

He exhales it out, the smoke forming a scythe in the air in front of him.

Derek watches Stiles for the verdict, which is given in the form of him simply turning and moving on.

For some reason, Derek is hesitant to voice it but — “Your own magic is here then.”

“Are you doubting my love for rule-following, Derek?”  Derek opens his mouth because, for once, he hadn’t been seeking to insult Stiles but he grins back over his shoulder, revealing it had been a joke he had meant to share.  Oh.  They didn’t really do that and he can see the way Stiles’ grin strains realizing it.  They’re not him and Laura.  They’re never going to be.  He still gamely adds, “I might’ve needed my door knocked but, yeah, it’s here.”

“What does it taste like,” Derek asks, not certain why he’s curious, only sure that he is.

Stiles pauses, a thoughtful expression on his face.  Derek hadn’t thought he would answer, and that if he did, it would be flippant and throwaway.  Instead there’s care and concentration to his words.  “Kind of… barren.  But not — not empty, more… expectant?  The way flat landscape can host tornadoes or lightning storms or pouring rain or a stampede.  It’s that second before it rushes in on your tongue.  It tastes like raised flesh and hot blood and leaping stomachs.”  He blinks, losing the glaze over his eyes.  His tongue darts across his lower lip, soothing.  “That’s what it tastes like.”

And Derek wants to taste… it.

Stiles swallows, breaking eye contact, plaid overshirt billowing with how hastily he turns.  Derek follows carefully after him, cataloguing each body part to reassure himself he has control over them since that had felt precarious in a way he can’t quite articulate.

Stiles burns a feather whose smoke twists into letters, plants an acorn that explodes in a cloud of confetti which rearranges into a map of some podunk water park in Arkansas, and digs at roots that dig back at him.

Derek waves a hand at the gnats buzzing in a cluster too-near his ear.  “I thought we only had five minutes?”

Stiles snorts.  “Which is why I’ve made us so hard to find,” he jazz hands with his fingers, crouches down and pops a buttercup into his mouth.

Derek slams into him, hard, not having expected the way he’s frozen.

The scent of blood is a sudden and thick aroma surrounding them and Stiles turns, a cheery pink (artificial) blush on his cheeks and gobs of red dripping from his mouth, over his chin and dribbling down his neck.  He opens his mouth on glass shards that have the spongy look of petals.  Something flickers and it’s so fast Derek can’t catch it, doesn’t know if it was his eyes or his face or just a shadow, but—“It’s her.”

Before Derek can react, Stiles has spun around and is tearing up the entire root system growing the buttercups.  He pulls and pulls and pulls, his hands growing slick with his own blood, sweat pouring down his back, spitting glass and pink saliva, until he’s yanked the last of it from the ground and the plant stutters, reshapes, and a woman is lying on the ground.

“What the—”

“Name,” Stiles snarls at her.

She’s carefully getting to her feet from the prone position she’d reformed in.  She’s in her thirties maybe, attractive, with short curly hair and red lips and a thick waist.  She smooths a hand down the back of her overalls, as though checking for dirt.  She shakes a leaf from her boat shoes.  “Delia Pritchett.”

Stiles eyes her coldly.  “Information.”

She ruffles her hair from the bottom, stands up a little straighter.  Her eyes aren’t focused on Stiles, they’re resting somewhere in the middle distance as though the prompt is coming from an unseen source.  “Formerly of the Lafferty coven, because who can take that seriously?  Current member of the Craven coven.”  She half-laughs.  “Hard to beat that.  Alliterative and established.”

Stiles slices a hand towards her and it slides right through her neck, vanquishing the image as he says, “Enough.”

Derek opens his mouth — 

Stiles lets out a depthless yet somehow mostly silent scream.  “We don’t even know them!  Craven?  They’re upstate, rural, why the fuck — why would she — she had no reason to kill her,” his voice has risen to a crashing crescendo and birds Derek hadn’t even heard were there take off from the treetops.

“We need to leave,” Derek says sharply.

Stiles stares at him as though Derek is speaking a different language.

Derek snags him by the bicep, squeezes.  “Stiles, we need to go.”  Stiles is gazing through him now, his eyes visibly trying to pin down a motive, something that will make sense of the answer he’s gotten, restringing his mental murder board into some semblance of order.  Derek shakes him, roughly.  “Stiles.”  He says it slowly: “You haven’t stopped bleeding.”

Stiles blinks up at him.  Opens his hands palm-up.  They’re torn to shreds.  Blood keeps gushing up to cover his lips.  He looks up at Derek again.  “We don’t even know her.  Our territories are nowhere near one another’s.  She had no reas —”

“Stiles.  I understand.”  He’s still speaking slowly, carefully, trying to make Stiles see past the immediate disappointment to the more immediate life or death situation.  “Do you understand that your blood is not clotting?”

He flexes his fingers.  “It’s magic,” he says, with a little shrug as though none of this matters, not compared to the reality that a woman they have no reason to know killed someone who meant more to them than words could describe, not to gain anything or settle some score but because she could.

So she did.

[fidgetspringer-art]

hi hello. can you catch me up on the oc lore

Since I've gained like a LOT of followers since the last time I did a lore summary, I'll happily do another!

First off though, here is Martin's character profile and Noah's character profile. Those have got the basics about the two of them, and I have a summary for how they met and how their relationship develops right here.

But since i've also brought up Gabriel a lot lately, and plan on mentioning him more, i'll give a little info dump on his relationship with Noah under the cut:

I plan on making Gabe his own character profile in a bit, so i'll go more into detail about him then, but basically he's Noah's oldest and best friend.

Their mothers were also best friends and they were born only a few months apart, so they've been together since before they knew how to walk pretty much.

Noah was a preacher's daughter so they went to church together. They also went to school together and drove their teachers mad if they were sat too close in class.

I touch on the subject of Noah falling in with a bad crowd as a teenager in his profile, but i'm not sure i've gone into much detail on that, it's important to his and Gabe's relationship though.

The short version is that Noah gets tempted into hanging with a guy who's a couple years older than them, called Marcus. Gabriel, always the one trying to keep Noah out of trouble, ends up getting dragged into this group with him.

Marcus makes Noah think he's the leader of their little crew, but basically all he is is Marcus' scapegoat. Marcus would get them all into trouble, and because Noah was the preacher's kid he'd pin the blame on him because he figured he'd get off easier than the rest of them.

In the end though, Gabriel manages to make Noah see how fucked up their situation is (after they both get a pretty bad scare), and the two of them try to distance themselves from the group, eventually getting out of that life.

Noah goes off on his own, and Gabriel becomes a decently successful tattoo artist who owns the flat above his studio.

Their current day relationship is that Gabriel tries to live the life he's worked hard to build for himself, while having the constant reminder of his old life (Noah) stumble in through his door every few months, drunk, beat to hell or straight up just sick.

Noah always jokingly says that in another world it would have been the two of them together. They're pretty much soulmates in every way that matters. With the way things turned out though, all Noah ever tolerates are quick visits and quick fucks to scratch the itch before he's off again.

The two of them keep up their little friends with benefits things way after Martin and Noah start their years long routine of dancing around each other. Even after Noah stops sleeping around with strangers, he comes back to Gabriel when he feels the need to.

Basically he's one more person Noah has wrapped around his little finger.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

I know that someone said this before, but if you DID make an X-Men au comic run which eras of the series would inspire these comics, how would you write them, and would you have Magneto or some other major villain as the main antagonist?

maaaan i dont know... i can barely decide what i wanna have for lunch most days i just make silly one-off comics i dont got the brain capacity for all that....

[a-gay-bloodmage]

AGB Femslash February Fanfiction Announcement!

Hello again, everyone! Coming back to yell words at you all to formally announce that I am once again taking on another month-long writing challenge!

This time, it’s all about the girls and the gays and the bisexuals and the occasional confused boy! Instead of waiting around for a Femslash February prompt list to drop, I decided to use the prompts provided by @loveofdragonage for their Love of DA 2025 event and just fulfill them by writing femslash-focused pieces. Just like AGBInk, I’ll be posting works from Origins, II, and Inquisition, with a wee bit of Veilguard sprinkled in. 

Beneath the Read More, I’ve attached a list of the prompts and a small summary of what the fic is going to be about. When the fics come out, unlike Inktober, they will have titles that are different from the prompt name!

I would love it if you gave the rest of this post a read-through to see if anything sounds interesting! My goal is to get everything posted to my Archive of Our Own on their assigned days with a tumblr post that links to the AO3 version. I will be reblogging the fics the next morning in case anyone missed it the evening before! I really hope that you all enjoy my work. Likes and comments and reblogs mean the world to me! 

Here are some links to posts about my Wardens, Inquisitors, and Rooks! 

Day 1: Life of Devotion

A letter arrives on the Spymaster’s desk. Despite her urge to burn what is certainly another letter from another thorn in the Inquisition’s side, she hesitates long enough to see Faelyn Tabris’ familiar penmanship. 

Day 2: Thought You Were Dead

Semiha Silva-Adaar has tried, her whole life, to be a good Andrastian despite her grey skin. Becoming the Herald of Andraste was a dream come true. And then she went into the Fade again. And now she doesn’t know how she was so stupid. 

Day 3: Queer Culture

After another evening of pressing their bodies together, Sera asks Kiora Trevelyan what knocking bits was like back in the Circle. A part of her wishes that she never asked. 

Day 4: Against All Odds

Semiha Silva-Adaar fought for her hand. That was several years ago, but Josephine is still yet to see her love in a wedding dress. She sets out to ask Bull the proper way to show a Qunari that she’s serious. 

Day 5: Playing Cupid

Hawke has been invited back to Merrill’s house for Wintersend. She doesn’t want to go alone. As a result, Anders and Justice are dragged along to be spectators to an afternoon of watching their first friend in Kirkwall pine after a blood mage. 

Day 6: Assassins

Faelyn Tabris is enthralled by everything that Leliana does. While talking with her new friend, Zevran, the topic of Leliana’s bardic talents comes up. While she isn’t initially sure if it’s the best idea, Leliana agrees to teach Faelyn a thing or two.

Day 7: Romantic Tension

Sera is convinced that Lady Mallie wants to get into her leggings. Mallory Trevelyan is convinced that Sera doesn’t know how to sew. Ultimately, somebody’s trousers are going to be on the floor. 

Day 8: Angry Because They Care

Kiora Trevelyan is a mage obsessed with the Fade and all it entails. She, more than most people, understands how impactful and frightening dreams of a lover dying can be. 

Day 9: Convoluted Confessions

The Inquisitor is weird. Pretty, but weird. Sera can’t tell if Kiora Trevelyan is flirting with her or not, and it’s driving her frigging insane. 

Day 10: Found Family

After being freed from his capture by Tevinter slavers, Cyrion Tabris allows his daughter to herd all of her new friends into their tiny apartment. He never expected to see his daughter alive again, let alone see her love again. 

Day 11: Mutual Pining

Marian Hawke is the nicest and prettiest shem that Merrill has ever met. Even if she’s really just met her. She’s coming over for a visit. Merrill hopes, desperately, that she doesn’t make a fool of herself. Are there particular rules of friendliness amongst shemlen that she doesn’t know yet? 

Day 12: Discovering Poly

After going against her better judgment and spending a night with Orest Mahariel, Velanna tries to stealth her way through the morning-after walk of shame. A certain peppy ex-Legion member catches her. On their way to breakfast, Velanna learns that, maybe, relationships aren’t as black and white as she thought. 

Day 13: Time for a Bath

Out in the Hinterlands, Harta Cadash, Varric Tethras, Dorian Pavus, and Sera stop by a pond. The girls take the chance to bathe. Harta knows that Sera has a thing for her, but she’s not foolish nor selfish enough to let a young, do-good girl like her fall for a woman in the Carta. 

Day 14: Courtship

It seems that Semiha Silva-Adaar has never been good with girls. As a Qunari raised amongst humans, she never got the chance to learn. When she comes to Blackwall for advice, he does his best to build her courage. There’s only one monster in that barn, and it’s not her. 

Day 15: Bickering

Velanna is sick and tired of that so-called Witch of the Wilds and her constant condescension. So, when she hears her name mentioned in a conversation between her and the Commander, Velanna can’t help but eavesdrop. 

Day 16: Duels

Josephine is engaged. It breaks Semiha Silva-Adaar’s heart to know that Josephine’s family would marry her off to someone she hasn’t ever met, but it isn’t unexpected. What is unexpected, however, is the idea that a duel with an Antivan Lord could wrestle Josephine’s heart back into the hands of the Qunari that loves her. 

Day 17: Platonic Flirting

Ishal Mercar is a flirt. She can’t help it. And when the world is falling apart, she wants to at least have a little fun. At least Neve is willing to play along.

Day 18: Awakening

Faelyn Tabris is still mourning the loss of her should-be husband Nelaros. When she tries to talk to Leliana about love, she learns some things about the world that she didn’t think were even possible. She might even be realizing a thing or two about herself. 

Day 19: Chantry Bashing

In a little house in Redcliffe, the ghost that trails after Kiora Trevelyan finally tells her what’s been helping them locate the shards. Sera doesn’t know what to do to keep it from breaking the woman she loves. But she tries.

Day 20: Lover is a BAMF

In a dirty hideout in Val Royeaux, the Red Jennies receive a letter from a Friend about the new Inquisitor. The Friend is convinced that this “Mallie” is almost too good to be true. She’s a looker, though. 

Day 21: War Table

Faelyn Tabris has never had a problem showing her love for Leliana in public. After spending so much time apart, she only has so much patience, and this “war table” is taking up far too much of her Birdie’s attention. 

Day 22: Crafting

After her arm is finally gone, Harta Cadash’s lover, Dagna, devotes herself to making her a new one befitting such a beautiful woman. Once it’s finally complete, they allow themselves to indulge in some light touches. And more. 

Day 23: Parties and Gifts

As a Circle mage, Kiora Trevelyan doesn’t have much experience at all when it comes to giving gifts. She’d never exactly had much to give. Therefore, it only makes sense to ask the members of the Inquisition what they’d recommend she give Sera to show her appreciation. 

Day 24: Rune Recipes

Nobody expected this “Arcanist” to be a dwarf, let alone such a sweet-faced one. Even if Dorian is one, it doesn’t take a genius to see that Harta Cadash has a thing for magical experts. 

Day 25: Crossovers / AUs

Hawke and Merrill are shaping up to be quite the cute couple. Isabela is fascinated, but she’s let down by the lack of steamy gossip and late-night chats. She decides to take matters into her own hands. 

Day 26: Black Sheep

Now that she’s fought for Josephine’s hand and won, sealed the Breach, lost her arm, and disbanded the Inquisition—listed in no particular order of importance, of course—Semiha Silva-Adaar can’t help but wonder if she can do anything to properly endear herself to the Montilyet family.

Day 27: Anchored to the Past (AGB Original Prompt)

Sera is used to being dragged into Kiora Trevelyan’s dreams. It’s one of the perks of dating someone so in love with the Fade. What Sera isn’t used to, however, is being dragged into Kiora’s nightmares. 

Day 28: Follower-Selected Pairing Day

Merrill smells good. Really, really good. Hawke knows that it’s probably a side effect of working more on her Reaver skills. But that doesn’t make it any less tempting.

[moe-broey]

Some. Sort of spectrum. From most likely to least likely.

And by kitten-pile I mean This

I'll put a transcript under cut for easier reading! 🫡

How Likely Are They to Kitten Pile?

__

Mirabilis: "are you tired..? do you need a break...? ohh we could take one together..."

If she likes/trusts you even a little, she wants to cuddle about it!!!

-

Sharena and Peony: "Okay! 💖 Yay! 💖"

Shari: The only thing stopping her is social conventions -- making her MORE likely to jump at the opportunity!

Peony: Learning social awareness as she goes, and is surprisingly good at it?

-

Triandra: "Aren't we a bit old for that...? But... even so..."

Embarrassed, conflicted, but feels strangely nostalgic at the notion...

-

Plumeria: "I'm not so petal-soft that I'd resort to such INDECENCY, I mean even if your intentions are Pure USE YOUR HEADS YOU FOOLS!! Girl, the IMPLICATIONS!!!"

Desperately wants to join the kitten-pile, but her Issues and Pride gets in the way.

-

Moe: "aw, so cutes!"

Generally touch adverse, extremely picky even with the people it likes/loves -- everything is entirely on its terms.

[moogghost]

i finally got a chance to draw more cassette beasts stuff, it's mostly my oc x canon stuff and oc lore doodles but yknow

strange dragon creature thing is my archangel oc btw it's name is ekkehard and it's the incarnation of power (or something like that it's what i'm going with for the time being). the design isn't finalized yet but i needed to draw it alongside asphodel for Reasons

[bunnyboy-juice]

spent the first hour and change at work deleting some old files and am having a grand ol time laughing at myself for not realizing i was a lesbian sooner

[rinhaler]

lonely sad and so so poorly so think I'm gonna work on requests until I get sleepy :)