#meaning i will ABSOLUTELY write more baby tal

[jonkentdeservesbetter]

So I watched 3x02. I…have thoughts on Lois having cancer, but I don’t know how to write it all together in a way that makes sense? So I’m just gonna ramble my thoughts *shrug*

I guess I’ll start off with the blunt truth (in true Lois-Lane-style): I don’t want this.

Something that’s being said a lot by a good number of fans about this, is that, after both seasons 1 & 2 - S2 especially - this really does not work. Lois has pretty much only had really traumatic and/or emotionally devastating focus, if it’s just hers I mean. Obviously there’s been some fluff in this show, but…first we had Lois feeling less important to Clark in S1 to his other stuff, then her miscarriage storyline, then the almost dying because of Tal and losing her husband to brainwashing and begging for his life, then S2 starts and she’s reliving her trauma with her mother abandoning her, her sister betraying her and her career+integrity being questioned (no resolution to the Ally plot WRT Lois, honestly, which still tastes bitter to me). The whole of season 2 for Lois following that - like. do I truly need to go point by point? Literally S2 was Awful to her.

And now, S3 opens, and she discovers she wants another baby. But not only can she not have that right now (and Clark seemed hesitant but playing along, so maybe not at all and she’s gonna havefta find out later, as she’s dealing with Everything Else), she’s got aggressive, deadly cancer! Hooray 😒 /s.

Like. Why the fuck is it only this? Always?

I hate it. And don’t mistake me: I am very, very chronically ill myself, I KNOW what kind of strength it takes to be THIS sick, to be so weak in the limbs, having to lock yourself in the bathroom for hours because of the more gross stuff, being so fatigued you just can’t shower without help, etc. This is absolutely a storyline that can show strength, because, frankly, the mental fortitude required, and having to completely reshape the way you think, all while grieving losing the autonomy, the functioning of your body, is MASSIVE.

But Lois has been through E-FUCKING-NOUGH ALREADY. We know her strength! We know she’s badass! This is just. It’s just utterly unnecessary and painful and cruel.

This isn’t the storyline she should’ve had.

That’s it. That’s my post.

[soundwavefucker69]

I have been thinking about Tal’ika and baby Tal’ika specifically and I desperately need to write this, so have a time traveling mini Tal’ika rather than fully grown time traveling Tal’ika, because I love them.

---------------

There’s a very small child in the middle of a field, scowling up a storm with three dismantled B2 units around them. They’ve got fiery red hair in a curly mess that may have once been thoughtful and lovingly made braids and dark skin and they look about ready to punt the nearest patronizing face into the red sun that lights up this podunk world that really shouldn’t be as important as it is. There’s a familiar lightsaber hilt in their too-small hand, and they are brimming with the Force and potential and life and liberty and looking at them is like looking at a dying star and Obi-Wan can only think ‘oh no’.

There were already jokes about Cal Kestis, and this child looks like someone tossed him and Jango Fett in a Kaminoan blender and prayed for the best.

“Where’s Plo?” They demanded with all of the offense of a child left alone in a market, and Obi-Wan can only stare.

“Jedi Master Plo Koon?” He asked faintly, because this child certainly wasn’t dressed like an initiate, and yet here they were, showing signs of advanced training and practically screaming that they had been taught a lot more katas than someone should have taught a child their age.

“My Plo, yes,” they growled, and Obi-Wan stared down at them.

“Well, he’s certainly not on this planet,” he hedged. “Can you explain how you got here, young one?”

“Why are there clankers?” They demanded, glaring up at him like he had caused them personal offense, and he blinked, long and slow, before checking to make sure that he hadn’t dropped his lightsaber.

No. He hadn’t. It was right there on his belt, where it was normally supposed to be, and this child was still glaring at him.

“Because you’re in the middle of a warzone.”

“General Kenobi, come in,” a voice crackled out of his comm, and he tapped it.

“Commander Cody---”

“My Cody?” The child demanded, and Obi-Wan blinked again.

“I don’t think so?”

“Cody, why is Dad here?” The child demanded, loud and imperious, and Obi-Wan suddenly understood the urge to faint to get out of an uncomfortable situation.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Sir, do you have a cadet with you? This planet is uninhabited,” Cody asked over the comms, confusion barely tinting his tone, and the child made a noise of pure offense.

“I’m not a cadet, and I’m not a boy or a girl, I’m a pain, because Rex said so!”

“I’ll meet you at the rendezvous,” Obi-Wan said quickly and ended the comm before turning to the child. “What is your name and how did you get here?”

“Plo put me in the temple and told me to hide so I hid!” The child answered angrily. “And you should know my name, Plo told you, my name is Tal’ika, because Wolffe named me before you could and---”

“Why would I give you a name?” Obi-Wan blurted, confusion rising, and Tal’ika, apparently, stared at him like he was stupid.

“Well, I couldn’t be OB-7 for the rest of my life! That would be tragic! And awful! Ex-specially because OB-7 means there should be other OBs and I was the only one left and Sinker said it was depressing when I wasn’t supposed to hear him!”

There wasn’t a temple here. Or, there shouldn’t be a temple here. At least, it wasn’t a Jedi one; it was a Zeffo temple, and...

And.

And, oh, oh dear Force, no.

“Tal’ika,” Obi-Wan said and went down onto one knee, looking at this tiny ball of rage that had ripped apart three battle droids without breaking a sweat and was dropping clone names from all manners of legions like they had met them all. “Can you tell me what Coruscanti year it is, please?”

Tal’ika huffed and crossed their arms.

“No such thing as Coruscant,” they said derisively. “It’s the Imperial year, cause the Emperor is a demagolka who can’t help but ruin things that don’t need fixing, and it’s 1,025. Two suns is no good for you if you don’t even know what year it is. You should have left Tatooine sooner. You’re all cooked in the head.”

Tatooine--- 1,025?

“Ah. I see,” Obi-Wan said carefully, and Tal’ika squinted at him, angry and upset, and something very uncomfortable began twisting in his gut under their scrutiny.

“What?” They demanded. “I want Plo. Did he send you to bring me back to him?”

“Tal’ika. Did you, perhaps, touch something you ought not to have touched in the temple?” Obi-Wan asked weakly, and Tal’ika screwed up their freckled nose.

“No. I don’t touch anything in any temple unless Plo tells me I can,” they replied firmly. “I just walked around the little stone in the center but then he didn’t come back and I got hungry.”

To punctuate their point, their little stomach growled angrily, and Obi-Wan tried to sift through the variety of thoughts spiraling around his brain helplessly.

“Well, Tal’ika, we have a bit of a conundrum. Because it’s not actually 1,025. It’s 1,010.”

Tal’ika stared at Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan stared back, and something very close to distress flickered in their Force presence before they just marched forward and abruptly smacked the back of their hand to his forehead.

“The suns cooked you, Dad,” they declared, and Obi-Wan realized he had a big, big problem on his entirely unqualified hands.

Anakin was going to go ballistic.

[joestarwhore]

I’ve been following your blog for quite some time and it’s really good! Your work even inspires some of my own fics! ^_^

Can I please request a yan! Okuyasu fic? 7w7 preferably nsfw and with some humiliation? If your not comfortable with that and/or don’t write for Oku then I completely understand, keep up the good work Luv!~💝

i’m literally happy crying, i have so many of your works bookmarked & you are literally one of my favorite writers, that means so much!! if i wasn’t inspired before, i def am now, Oku fic coming right up just for you babe!

🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵

Yan!Okuyasu x AFAB!Reader - The Hand’s Maiden. [18+]

Okuyasu’s favorite thing about you was your innocence.

The Duwang Gang was close, and you were close with all of them, but you had something special with Okuyasu. Once a week hes find a way to bring you flowers, your favorite manga, or take you to Tonios for dinner.

Soon, you were dating & head over heels in love with your tall dark and handsome man. Okuyasu was absolutely obsessed with you, he’d show up in your rooms in the morning with breakfast and a detailed itenerary for your day that day. It was suffocating but you were spending time with your boyfriend, what more would you want?

After about a month of dating, Okuyasus behavior changed towards you when you were alone with him. His hands wandered more, touching areas he had never touched before & making your voice leave your throat. You had never had sex or done anything sexual before so you weren’t sure how you were to react.

‘I’m glad you’re being such a quiet girl, you should be grateful that i’m gonna be taking your virginity.’

What?!

“O-Okuyasu would it be okay if we tal-!!”

Okuyasu would slap his hand over your mouth, his hard blue eyes staring right into yours. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to you because you’re my girlfriend & you’re mine forever.” Okuyasu used The Hand to swipe away your buttoned down blouse, the buttons disappearing and the shirt falling open to reveal your (C/S) breasts. You couldn’t stop shaking, but god did it turn you on when he talked to you like this!

“I don’t need to hear your fucking opinion you whore, your body is mine to fuck and mine to break, do you fucking understand?!” Hed hell at you, his hand gripping your throat as you looked at him with wide eyes. He could tell your core was absolutely soaked, and his stupid smirk told you that.

Okuyasu yanked your pants down song with your underwear, the cold air in your apartment meeting your hot slit. Oku started chucking at the sight, running his middle finger up and down your wet area. “Does it turn you on when I degrade you like the little fuck toy you are?? Do you like it when I force myself on you??”

You were a moaning mess as his middle finger assaulted your clit, and you couldn’t hold back moaning his name as his lips attached themselves to it. Okuyasu danced his tongue over your slit, chucking as your writhed under his hold. His frame shot up and his lips attached to your neck while he put his rock hard dick in your entrance.

“This is gonna hurt baby, so just be a good slut and take it for me.”

& with that, your dominant boyfriend who got off on your personal humiliation, bottomed his 8 inches deep inside you.

He would keep calling you his dirty fucking slut as he rammed in & out of you, his dick not struggling to find your g-spot. You had never felt so exposed or so violated, but god did you love how Okuyasu just has his way with you. You had no say on the matter, his word was law.

Your screams and moans started to get more desperate, your core tightening in a very strange way that you had never felt before. “S-Something is ha-happening..” you stuttered out as his forehead rests on yours, still pounding you into oblivion.

“Awh is my pathetic slut gonna cum? You gonna cum for the first time?? Fucking slut, you get off on me having my way with you don’t you?” He drilled into you faster and faster, “Im gonna fill your pretty cunt, & you’ll have my kids whether you like it or not. Your body, your cunt, your everything belongs to me!!”

That sent you over the edge into a pit of intense pleasure, Okuyasu cooing at you as you came all over his dick and the bed. His speed picked up like never before and threw one final thrust in you, his cum being sent into your womb.

Okuyasu took some deep breaths, and he collapsed himself beside you as he pressed your overstimulated frame to his chest. He peppered kisses along your neck & ran his fingers down your side. “You were so good for me sweetie, your cute little cunt did exactly what i wanted it too.”

You slowly relaxed back into his arms, the feeling of safety coming back slowly.

“I meant what i said though,” he muttered darkly.

“You’re mine. You’re not going anywhere & you sure as hell aren’t having anyone else’s kids.” You closed your eyes and nodded, knowing any innocence you possessed after this would be given to Okuyasu to corrupt.

“You’re mine. Forever and ever, darling.”

🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵🔵

LOVE YOU SM THANK YOU!

[clonewarslover55]

Can you do some dad!Vau headcanons please?

Absolutely!! I will always write shit for my husband no matter what!! 

Notes: These headcanons are about Walon Vau being a father, when he’s married to my OC Verda Tal Rose!! If you have no idea who Rose is please check out Memories And my notes on her in my masterlist! 

Also if you don’t like Rose and would prefer Dad!Walon X Reader headcanons my requests are always open loves!! They’d be the same general idea and all that, but slightly different I guess. 

Spoilers for Memories 

Dad!Walon Vau headcanons, along with some pregnant ones!   Walon Vau X Verda Tal Rose

Walon learned Rose was pregnant in the flashback of chapter nine of Memories 

He nearly fucking passed out from shock

A million thoughts went through this broken mans head 

Walon’s father beat him and treated him worse than shit 

So he clearly has no idea how to be a father, or even a nice human being 

BUT 

Vau has always wanted to be a father, for a few reasons 

To ruin his royal bloodline, and to just try to be a better father than his own 

And because he loves Rose, of course

After talking with Rose they decide to keep the baby, but both are pretty scared 

After Rose’s father talks much needed sense into Vau, he kinda calms down 

They’ll figure this baby thing out together! 

Walon and his Strill, Mird, are very worried and concerned during the pregnancy 

Vau isn’t the best with mood swings but he grabs his wife whatever she’s craving 

When Rose freaks out about her changing body, Vau reassures her that she’s beautiful in the best way possible 

I mean sex and body worshipping 

Vau doesn’t have a breeding or pregnancy kink like Jango, but he’s always there for his wife's needs 

When Rose is nearly due Vau is constantly watching Mird’s reactions 

Of course she goes into labor at some absurd time 

The baby is born in the fall though! So the absurd time doesn’t bother them as much because it’s their favorite season lol 

When she’s in labor Vau is holding her hand the whole time 

He’s surprisingly supportive while Rose is screaming and cussing 

Rose is mainly cussing him out 

He’s seen blood and messy situations, so that doesn’t bother him one bit 

When their little girl is born though?

He nearly blacks out, he gets fucking dizzy from shock 

It’s actually dehydration but shock is more dramatic 

He sits beside Rose on the bed, a little dizzy 

Walon doesn’t believe it’s real for a few minutes 

They just stare at the little girl in Rose’s arms for a while 

The baby girl, who they name Stella, looks too much like her father 

Jet black hair, golden eyes, and pale skin 

She only has her mothers freckles 

“She’s perfect.” He whispers, pressing a soft kiss to his wife’s forehead 

Rose only nods, holding back tears 

Rose has to talk Walon into holding his baby girl 

He is terrified! Especially of hurting his little girl 

The cold hearted bastard falls in love instantly when he holds Stella 

The young couple just sits there for a while, watching as Stella holds her fathers finger in her tiny fist 

Once the baby is home Walon and Rose take turns getting up in the middle of the night 

Most of the time they just argue until one gives in and gets up 

It’s a ritual now 

Mird, of course, made a nest in the baby’s room 

What does Stella’s nap time look like? 

Stella is in one of Mird’s many nests, snuggled up with the smelly Strill 

Mird is a very good protector and cuddle buddy for Stella 

Stella is a huge daddies girl, but Mird is her favorite 

The little girl is always snuggling with the Strill, giggling as Mird licks her 

Walon is actually a pretty decent father 

He’s got the whole baby thing down, of course after Rose’s father taught him how 

Vau fucking loves his little girl, and it’s adorable 

It warms Rose’s heart seeing the cold bastard spending time with his little girl 

Vau has a few pet names for Stella, but he many calls her his “Little Rose.” 

Because the baby has her mothers attitude 

They talk about her future pretty early on, Vau excited to teach her the Mandalorian way 

Stella is always latched onto Vau or Mird, it’s too cute 

When Stella learns to talk her first word is Mird’ika 

Her second is Buir, which means father and mother 

The adorable little girl warms up Walon’s cold dark heart 

The young Mandalorian couple is very excited to see their beautiful little girl grow up 

Sad headcanons if you want to read them:  Like really sad, so beware. 

When Stella is around two she gets really sick 

Like it’s a sudden slow moving illness 

Cancer

When Rose and Vau find out it’s too late for Stella 

They lose their baby girl at the age of two 

It fucking breaks them both 

A strain grows in their relationship once Stella is gone 

Vau sees it as a sign that he wasn’t ever meant to be a father 

Of course he misses his daughter though 

Walon grows colder than before, but Rose understands why 

After a year or so their relationship begins to heal 

The holes in their hearts will always be there 

Their stitched up relationship straining to stay together sometimes 

It brings Rose and Vau too much pain to really ever mention it in the future 

Their happy baby girl, as time goes on, just becomes a memory 

A memory long forgotten 

(I am sorry I made it sad) 

If you want to join my taglist please fill out the form at the top of my masterlist!! 

Tags: @leias-left-hair-bun @simping-for-fives @iamassbuttkingofhell @catsnkooks @peacefulwizardfox @opalstxrs @colorfulloverbatturkey @jedi-mando @julyzaa @feathersforclones @ahsokatano-thetogruta @chr0nicbackpain @cherry-cokes-world @royalhandmaidens @blue-space-porgs

[justkindaoverhereobsessing]

Sentence ask thing. Tiva: “Don’t worry, I’ll see you soon!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll see you soon!” Tony explains helplessly, tugging Tali’s little jacket tighter around her. “Really, baby girl. There’s nothing to cry over, I promise.”

“But—but—but—” Tali is inconsolable and can’t even properly form her thought.

Tony and Ziva exchange glances, uncertain of how to reassure their daughter. Tony scoops up the little girl and straightens, cradling her like she’s still a toddler and not a rapidly-growing school-aged child. “Shh, Tali-Tee. ‘s alright.” In an undertone to Ziva, he adds “I don’t know, maybe I should just cancel my trip.”

“And reschedule? You know she will only do this again next time,” Ziva argues, but even she looks unconvinced. 

“If leaving is going to break her heart like this, I’m not sure I should take a trip at all.”

“This kind of opportunity does not come around often. If you do not go now... it may be many years before you have another chance.”

“I know.”

“Tali will be alright in a few minutes.”

“I know. I’m just...”

“I know.”

________________

In the end, Tony does leave, though getting out of the flat takes so long that he damn near misses his flight. He does his absolute best to articulate to Tali why he has to go, to reassure her that he will absolutely be back—before she knows it! She does calm before he leaves, which helps Tony’s nerves. Leaving her is still so hard, though, and leaving Ziva is only slightly less so. 

He’s up for a job back in the US; a sudden emergency has necessitated the appointing of a new assistant director for one of the agencies NCIS works closely with. It’s an unexpected opportunity on several levels, but it’s an exciting one. It would give them all both a way and a push to uproot their lives in Paris and return to their family, and... it would be more fulfilling work than what Tony does now. 

No matter how much Tony wants the job, however, this is the first time he has ever left Tali. The girl is obviously in incredible capable hands, since Ziva is staying behind, but... it was just Tony and Tali for so long that they both have a little bit of separation anxiety now. Tali is and always will be Tony’s first priority. Still, this will be a good opportunity for her, too. 

________________

Tony has to hit the ground running once he reaches the States; his flight lands in the late morning and his interview is in the early afternoon. On a taxi into the city, though, he puts aside his last-minute interview preparations to call his wife. 

Ziva answers on the second ring. “Tony?”

“Hey there,” he answers warmly. 

“Hi. Did your flight go okay?”

“Couldn’t have been smoother. On my way to the interview now. Everything alright in ol’ Paree?”

“Yes... Tali has been acting out some and she did not want to sleep alone last night, but we are doing fine.”

“Ah, that’s to be expected, I guess.”

“I does not surprise me. She does not like to be separated from you.”

“I don’t much like it, either. Is she there? Can I talk to her for a second?”

“Of course. Tali?” The last word is called away from the phone, and after a moment, Tony can hear the phone being moved back to Ziva’s ear. “She is coming. Good luck on your interview, Tony—I know you will do wonderfully. I love you.”

Tony smiles. “Thanks, sweet cheeks. Love you, too. I’ll call you later, yeah?”

“That sounds good.”

There’s a staticky sound or two and then a much younger voice speaks into the phone. “Daddy?”

“Hey, princess! How are you?”

“I’m sad.”

“Just ‘cause I’m not there?”

“Yeah.”

Tony’s heart clenches, though he was expecting this answer, and he tries to turn her mood around the best way he knows how—with goofiness. “What!?” he cries as dramatically as possible. He sees the cabbie look suspiciously at him in the rearview. “You’re sad ‘cause of me!? A boy!? I thought we’d already been over this. Boys are stinky, silly, no good bothers! Being sad over a boy? Now, that’s just crazy talk.”

He breathes a sigh of relief when he hears his daughter giggle. He’s glad she’s at an age at which problems are still easily solved. “You’re weird,” Tali informs him, making him grin.

“I know. You tell me all the time and so does Ima. That doesn’t mean I’m wrong, though.”

“If you say so.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like your mother. You’re behaving for her, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I knew you’d make me proud. I—”

The rest of his sentence is cut off by the cabbie. “Sorry to interrupt, sir, but we’re almost to your destination. Where would you like to be dropped off?”

“As close as you can get to the corner of Worth and Lafayette, please,” Tony answers. Then he turns back to the phone with a sigh. “I’ve got to go, Tali, I’m sorry. But before I do—scratch what I just said, okay? You’re allowed to feel sad or happy or whatever you want. Just know that I’m not gone for good or even for long, kiddo. I promise I’ll talk to you again soon, and I’ll be home in just a few days. I miss you, sweetheart, and I love you a bushel and a peck...”

“...and a hug around the neck,” Tali dutifully finishes. 

“That’s my girl.”

“Good luck, Daddy!”

“Thanks, Tals. Talk soon.” He makes a kissing sound and rings off.

It’s show time.

________________

It’s his hope to catch Ziva and Tali again before Tali’s bedtime in Paris, but his interview runs longer than he’s expecting and it’s late in Europe by the time he’s free.

Still, he calls Ziva. 

“How did your interview go?” she asks as soon as she picks up, forgoing a greeting in deference to her burning need to know what happened. 

“Hello to you, too,” Tony answers, laughing. “It was pretty good, I think. I should hear something in a day or two.”

“Did you know any of your interviewers?”

“Nah. They all knew me, though. Turns out I got recommendations from... well,  a lot of people. I was pretty surprised.”

“I am not.” The warmth in Ziva’s tone makes Tony smile. 

“Thanks, Ziva. Anyway, none of them really seemed bothered by the fact that I’ve been out of the government sector for... what, seven years now? I was a little worried about that. And, well... we’re sort of infamous, you and I, but I think that actually may have been a point in my favor. The interviewers seemed to think that meant I could roll with the punches, so to speak.”

“Adaptability is a good trait in someone occupying a leadership position.”

“Gotta wonder how Gibbs has managed for so long, then. He’s got his good qualities, for sure, but that man has had the same tv since 1970. ‘Adaptable’ is not the first word that comes to mind.”

A laugh, and then: “You learned a lot from him over the years. You will do well at this new job.”

“You really think so?”

“I know it.”

“You sound awfully confident, given the fact that I may not even get the job in the first place.”

A dismissive snort makes it clear how Ziva feels about that reminder. “You should know by now not to argue with me, yes?”

Tony laughs, too. “I guess I should.” He sighs a little then, rubbing his eyes and feeling tired. As much as his interview today has made him feel hopeful, he really just wants to go back to Paris for now. “Did Tali go down alright tonight?”

“Yes, curled up on your pillow like a little cat.”

“Besides sleepovers, she and I haven’t spent a night in different places in years. I’m pretty sure she’s handling it better than I am. It’s weird being without her... My hotel room is too quiet.”

“There is no one singing Frozen at the top of their lungs?” Ziva teases.

“I mean, there is, but that person is me.” Tony hears a snort and then a stifled yawn, and he interrupts before Ziva has a chance to reply. “Go to bed, my love,” he orders gently. 

“I will soon... but Tali is not the only one who misses you, you know.”

A smile rises to Tony’s lips that he’s sure Ziva can hear through the phone. “I know. Believe me, I know. I miss you, too. But remember: you’re the only thing standing between Tali and the complete destruction of our apartment. You need your rest.”

He can almost see Ziva’s eyeroll from here, and it makes him grin again. “Go,” he repeats. “Sleep. I’ll see you in two days.”

“Alright, alright,” she acquiesces. “Good night. I love you, Tony.”

“I love you more,” Tony answers fondly. Neither one of them will ever forgo an opportunity to say those words again. “Sweet dreams.”

“For you, as well.”

________________

When Tony himself succumbs to jet lag an hour and a half later, he’s thinking about the fact that a potential new job isn’t nearly as exciting as the prospect of seeing his family again the day after tomorrow.

He’s certain that his priorities are in exactly the right order... and no matter what the future brings, he’ll be fine. He’s got his girls.

send me a sentence and i’ll write the next 5 sentences or the rest of the fic

[philippageorgiou]

thoughts on the picard season 1 finale!!!!!!!!!!!!! only 26 hours after starting this damn rewatch

everything that happens on the synth homeworld just feels very silly, the first part of the finale is so inconsequential i couldnt even tell you anything that happened

it’s just. very messy and lazy. 

"sad queen annika, six years old and all she got for her birthday was assimilated" i’m sorry but this is such a funny line!!!!!! anyway seven killing narissa ‘for hugh’ just like she killed bjayzl for icheb 🥺 

will turning up to save the day and threatening to kill oh’s treacherous tal shiar ass... i love one man

very bold (read: stupid) of them to have the main character literally die 20 minutes from the end of the season. yes i absolutely sobbed through the scenes of everyone mourning yes i hated it.

i just think that his near-death thing achieved nothing!!!!! why!!!! 

the whole ordeal was just lazy writing and cutting corners idk they could just have easily.... let him live a few more years without bringing it up. or just given him a near death thing, let him see data, and thats that. we didnt need this whole thing it was so dumb and emotionally whiplashy. you dont let your characters AND audience mourn only to be like SIKEEEEE 2 minutes later

anyway ngl idk what else happened in this

isa briones’ cover of blue skies just makes me weeeeeep 

the raffi and seven hand holding moment is almost embarrassing in how random it was but as always with star trek it’s all about taking whatever crumbs youre given and i very much appreciate this crumb

ok so rewatching the whole picard show after 9 months (i couldve had a picard-hating baby by now! what a concept!) my opinion hasnt changed drastically but! here are my overall takes

it’s messy as fuck

none of the characters are developed as much as they should be at any given moment. you cant just wait to give characters personalities until its convenient to. yes this is about soji but also a lot of the supporting chars

also? on the subject of supporting characters? dont introduce a new one every episode. it’s clumsy.

i say we ban writing teams that are just one writer, one trek nerd and 35 executive producers. enough. let writers write and producers produce and nerds... nerd. stay in your lanessss! also please try to understand the format youre writing for!!!!! please!!!!! and for the love of god learn pacing. ive never seen anything as inconsistent as this

calm down with the plotlines. complicated doesnt always mean good. let the characters be the complicated driving force through a plot thats layered and interesting, sure, but digestible and actually makes sense

also? fucking acknowledge beverly crusher. i’ll go one step further and say let her fuck admiral clancy because that’s what they deserve and what we deserve

i still dont like this show and it’s still my least favourite trek but there are things i appreciate about it now that i didnt before! but not a lot! one thing that has changed though is that i dont have so much hatred for it, it’s mostly just been replaced with disappointment at the wasted opportunities 

i believe that next season could be a lot better now that theyve got the nostalgia / fanservice stuff out of the way, so fingers crossed!!!!!

[lumiolivier]

The Good Old Days Chapter Ten:  My Brother Sold Me Out...

A/N:  Hi, friends!  I don’t know why, but I got such a soft spot in my heart for this man.  Especially in this chapter.  I know when you think about Frankie, he doesn’t necessarily come off as the ball of sunshine type, but there’s one thing that can bring that out in him.  Well, two things, but you already know about the other one.  Anyway, here.  Have a chapter.

ICYMI: Chapter Nine:  Beauty and the Streets

I’m not sure if it’s the caffeine that’s got me damn near skipping down the street or the genuine excitement in my heart that’s got me damn near skipping down the street, but there’s no way in hell anything can get to me.  I knew exactly what it was.  Not what I had in my cup, but who sat across from me.  I shared a cookie with her.  I know it sounds so pure and innocent, but I would gladly share a cookie with Vanessa any time she wanted.  We only had barely an hour together, but fuck, I wanted to do it again.

 I couldn’t be happier. A new, good job, a family that loves me unconditionally, and now, the possibility of a princess like her in my life. Is this finally it?  Is this the light at the end of the tunnel?  God figured I’ve suffered enough, so He sent me an angel?  I don’t know how or why Vanessa was put in my path, but fuck I’m glad she was.  It was one date.  Just one!  And she already had me like this.  What in the hell has the world come to?

 “Mama!” I called into our apartment where César was comfortably nestled in the couch.  I got a subtle nod out of him, “I’m home!”

 “Hola niño,” Mama came to the door, kissing my cheek.  But then, she froze.  Not in fear or anything like that.  More so out of sheer curiosity.  She leaned into me, “Francisco…”

 “Si, Mama?”

 “Why do you smell so nice?” she wondered, “You smell like hotel rooms I’ve cleaned.”

 “What?” Damn Mama’s bloodhound nose.  And even more so, mi hermano laughing his ass off.  Well, in my defense, I was in a ritzy ass department store with the Old Man today, but I’m sure she’d bitch at me, saying we could’ve gotten so many months of groceries on my vanity, “That’s kind of a weird question, Mama.”

 “It’s probably Vanessa,” César came down just enough to slam his own coffin shut.  I may kill my brother later.  We share a bedroom.  One quick pillow is all it would take.

 “Who’s Vanessa?” Mama stared me down.  Oh, shit. I’m fucked.  Because I know how Mama can be.  Especially when it comes to her baby.  Mama knows my track record with women.  And with every passing notch in my bedpost, she grows more and more skeptical.  Along with her skepticism comes her need to get involved.  I like Vanessa.  I don’t want to scare her off.  And I really don’t want Mama to be the one to scare her off.

 “She’s a new friend,” I went into the kitchen and grabbed a soda out of the fridge.  There.  That should be enough for Mama to latch onto.  That should be the end of it.  For the most part anyway.  At least I sure as fuck hope so.

 “Is she a special friend?” Nope.  Fuck. Dammit, Mama.  I love you.  I really do. But I don’t know where Vanessa and I are going.  I didn’t need her sniffing around it too much.

 “She might be,” I admitted, “But it’s still pretty new.  We’ll see.”

 “So…” Mama assumed, “I meet her soon, yes?”

 “We’re not quite there yet.” In that moment, I knew I signed my own death warrant.  Saying no to Mama was like spitting in the face of God. I’m sure she wouldn’t say the same, but it came pretty damn close.  But I realized how fucked I was even more when Mama’s face slowly fell into an angry scowl.  Oh, yeah. I’m boned.

 “Francisco…” she growled, “I meet her soon.”

 “You will meet her,” I promised, “Holding her hands, “All I’m asking is for a little patience.”

 “Francisco…”

 “I swear to you, Mama,” I begged, “A girl like her is totally worth waiting for.  One day, I have no doubt you’ll meet her and fall in love with her.  Just give it some time, ok?”

 “Francisco…” Mama leaned in once more, “She smells expensive.”

 “I’m thinking she comes from money.” Mama glared daggers into me.  Fuck…I had to cover my tracks.  If Mama goes to meet Vanessa with a bad taste in her mouth already, she won’t even give Vanessa the time of day.  And I’m sure it’d make for an awkward Christmas, “No.  I know what you’re thinking.  She’s not that kind of comes from money.  She’s sweet, Mama…And smart…Y muy hermosa…”

 Mama started to ease up. Just a little.  Just enough to make herself comfortable, “Es tu corazón, mijo?”

 “Tal vez,” I admitted, “Just…Give it some time.  Please?”

 I could see it all over her face.  Mama’s impatience was all over it.  But she knew. Just from the way I gush about her, she knows she’s special, “Ok.”

 “Muchas gracias, Mama,” I kissed her cheek, “I need to go see the Old Man.  I’ll be back later.”

 “Ok,” she let me go, “Te amo.”

 “Te amo, tambien, Mama,” I threw my arms around her, making sure to extend a sturdy middle finger to my asshole brother behind her back.

 “Hey, Frankie,” César sat up, “Is the Old Man going to need us later?”

 “I doubt it,” I wasn’t in the mood to deal with babysitting detail tonight.  Granted, I knew I was still relatively new, but I picked up on the job a lot faster than I thought I would.  And I’m sure whatever the Old Man had for me, I was more than capable of handling it on my own, “Hasta luego.”

 I left my mother and my brother, curious as to where Tony ran off to.  He wouldn’t have done something stupid like go into work early tonight, would he?  No.  We all made a pact when we started working the restaurant that we’d never go in early if they asked.  Overtime at the end of the day?  Oh, yeah.  We’ve all fallen victim to that once or twice.  But never go in early.  However, this new job down in the Narrows?  That one I’d be more than happy to go in early for.  Mostly because the Old Man and I got along like a house on fire.

 It’s weird.  This bar was starting to feel like a second home to me. Even though I could see the first one from here.  It’s not like it was very far.  Much better than the half hour train ride.  So much better.  And I’m not treated like shit, so that’s a plus.  I’ll call that a trade up.  But instead of comparing apples and oranges, I think I had an office door to go not knock on!  I learned. I didn’t have to knock on the old man’s door.  Although the right and polite thing to do, I was good.

 “Hiya, boss,” I sat on the business side of his desk.

 “Frankie!” the Old Man chimed, “Always a pleasure to see you, kid.”

 “Ditto,” I gave him a nod. Like I said, the Old Man has always taken a strange shine to me.  Since day one.  I didn’t get it, but maybe I didn’t have to, “So, what do you got for me this fine evening?”

 “Another collection job, if you’re up for it,” he told me, writing some things down, “Nothing too difficult.”

 “Sounds easy enough,” I wish the Old Man would put me on something a little more…Well…Something better than collections.  I got a skillset here that’s being grossly underutilized here, “Where to?”

 “A couple restaurants, a tattoo shop, and a club,” the Old Man slid the list across his desk, “I’m giving you a five hundred dollar limit tonight, so if you’re looking to enjoy yourself a little bit, I can look the other way for a bit.”

 “Old Man,” I know I hadn’t been here long, but I knew better than that, “I know damn well you’d be throwing one back with me.  Don’t give me that you’ll look the other way bullshit.”

 “You’re not wrong, kid,” he agreed, “But you do seem a little wound up.  Speaking of shit that’s got you wound up!  How’d it go with Vanessa today?”

 “Great!” I wasn’t going to hold back.  The Old Man gave me an in to gush over Vanessa and dammit, I’m taking it, “It was amazing.  I mean, she had to go early, but…”

 “Hold on,” he stopped me, “Did she have to go early or did she need to go early?”

 “She had to,” I clarified, “She had a communications class she needed to get to.  She’s smart, Old Man.  She’s so fucking smart.”

 “Do you know where she’s going to school?” he wondered.

 “Somewhere in Manhattan,” I remembered, “But according to her sister, she looks for every opportunity to come to Williamsburg.  I don’t know why, but that might be a good thing.”

 “That’s definitely a good thing,” the Old Man applauded, “And now, she’s got another excuse to come down here.  What’s her major?”

 “She’s pre-law,” I melted inside, “She’s on the fence about her practice, though.  She’s bouncing between estate law and becoming a defense attorney.”

 “Get her to lean all the way to defense attorney,” the Old Man insisted, “Someone’s looking to the future, isn’t he?”

 “What do you mean?”

 “Come on, Frankie,” he gave me a little nudge, “If she goes down the defense attorney route and you two end up getting married, then you’ll always have someone to keep your ass out of jail.  Especially in our line of work.”

 “I thought you said what we did was relatively on the up and up,” I pointed out.

 “Yeah,” he nodded, “Relatively on the up and up.  Sometimes, that line between legal and not so legal is a big gray area.  Sometimes, we need someone keeping our asses out of jail. And if Vanessa keeps her maiden name for her practice, then they can’t call her out on conflict of interests.”

 “I see I’m not the only one thinking ahead,” I chuckled to myself, “Jesus, Old Man, you sound like you’re already preparing to marry me off to this girl.  We’ve been on one date.”

 “It doesn’t sound like you’ve only been on one date,” he argued, “Has she said anything about the second date?”

 “I’m calling her tonight,” I admitted, “I like her, Old Man.  I like her a lot.  I’m sure she’s flawed somewhere, but for the most part, she’s absolutely perfect.”

 “Oh, Frankie,” the Old Man awed, “You’re adorable, kid.  You know what?  I’d almost like to meet the girl.  Just so I can see for myself what’s got you in such a jumbled mess.”

 “I wouldn’t say I’m a mess…” That was a lie.  I’m absolutely a mess for her.

 “Would you be ok with me meeting her?” he wondered.

 “Really?” I rolled my eyes, “That’s twice today!”

 “What do you mean?”

 “Mama,” I explained, “César the asshole outed me about Vanessa to Mama earlier today and she asked if she could meet her.  Well…I say ask.  Demand is more the word here.”

 “Your mother is definitely a force to be reckoned with,” the Old Man agreed, “But I understand. She meets Mama first.  By the way, how is Sariña?”

 “She’s fine,” I said bluntly, “Old Man…No.”

 “I know, I know,” he brushed me off, “But would that be something you’d be ok with?  Me meeting Vanessa?”

 “I’d have to run that by Vanessa,” I told him, “But I don’t see why not.”

 “Is she cute?”

 “She’s so cute,” I swooned. But then, I remembered who I was talking to.  The Old Man and I were good and he was a hell of a guy, but…Like I said.  I remembered who I was talking to, “No.  Old Man, I call dibs.  She’s mine.”

 “I wouldn’t even dream of it,” the Old Man promised, “I wouldn't’ do that to you, Frankie.  Even I’m better than that.  Besides, I have a limit.  And I’m pretty sure she’s half my age.  Cradle robbing to a certain extent is ok, but when I can vividly remember my twenties being the year she was born, that’s when it gets unsettling.”

 “It’s good to know you got a moral compass.”

 “Alright then,” the Old Man got up, “I do look forward to meeting Vanessa, but I understand if you want to wait a while.”

 “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Mama,” I reiterated, “It’s still too new.  When we got things better figured out, then we’ll see about meeting everyone.  I’m pretty sure everyone can agree on that.”

 “That’s not our decision to make.” Bless him.  Bless the Old Man.  He’s a hell of a lot more understanding than Mama was.  He didn’t jump on the defensive right away.  But I couldn’t tell Mama that.  It’d break her heart.  And I refused, “But go on, kid.  You got my money to get.  You got a girl to chat up.  Go on. Get to work.”

 “Got it, boss.” Now, with the Old Man’s collections list in my hand, where should I start?

[ruthandliamgoplaces]

Finishing the Circuit! Back to Civilisation.

It’s been a week since I blogged and that’s because we’ve been pretty busy, relatively speaking of course! We finished the Annapurna Circuit, stayed two nights in Pokhara and are now on day four of a seven day yoga retreat in Begnas Tal, a small town 20km from Pokhara. I will hazily attempt to describe the past week, though I have to admit, the heat and relaxation of the retreat is making me lazy. But, according to the yoga philosophy class I just attended, pratyahara, meaning... do the opposite of what you feel in order to grow. So, I write!

Finishing the Annapurna Circuit via Poon Hill Trek

We departed from Ghorepani and the weather, which had been mist, rain and more rain, was suddenly glorious! We had had barely any views for a week, which was contributing to us wanting to stop trekking, but it was like Annapurna was inviting us to keep trekking by showing us mountains again. I felt so blessed to be climbing 400m and more to a panorama view point of the Annapurna Range. The rhododendron trees were blossoming with red and pink flowers, and the hills were dotted with magnificent colours.

After admiring the view, we began a very long descent of over 700m, down hundreds and hundreds of steps into Ghandruk. This took several hours of thigh and hip burning stair cases. Fortunately, the waterfalls, crystal clear streams, views and jungle surroundings made it worth it. The scenery was so pristine! However, this part of the trek was also rather busy. The trail was now the Poon Hill Trek, a self contained 5 day trek, and very popular with large groups of guides tourists and their trekking staff. We spent some time wondering at many ill equip trekkers. That, our burning legs, in addition to the roasting heat, contributed to us wanting to stop trekking again!

When we reached Ghandruk, we were so hot, we had to have a coke before we even considered trying to find a guest house. By this point, we both knew that we needed to stop trekking soon. We were both pretty much done, and despite the glorious surroundings, trekking had become a chore.

That evening, we tried to lift morale by sharing a feast of snacks bought from the local shop. We bought Nepalese Chocolate Eclair sweets, a tube of Pringles and a tray of assorted biscuits. However, when we opened them, the Pringles were completely crushed into tiny pieces, the chocolate eclairs were actually aniseed chewy sweets, and the assorted biscuits were just 20 of the same bland biscuits, with a similar texture to baby rusks. We ate them all anyway, laughing at ourselves for hoping for any comfort!

That evening we were treated to an enormous rainstorm! The water flooded the communal outdoor space of the guesthouse and poured down complete with thunder and lightening for an hour. The spectacular clouds that followed were a highlight of the trip for me! Layer upon layer of different cloud type rippling up from the valley floor to the mountain tops like the giant lasagne we were so craving.

The following day, we set off on the final two day leg of our journey, to a town called Landruk, then onto Pothana and to a bus to Pokhara. We first descended another 700m of stairs with very achy legs, and were repeatedly harassed for chocolate by local children on their way up the stairs to school. Liam joked, no wonder they need chocolate if they walking up those stairs every day! It felt quite uncomfortable though, and especially when one girl asked for Spiker, shortly followed by a boy trying to grab him! He was not a happy Puffin.

When we passed the staircase we reached a river where we started to ascend again. We checked the map and realised with horror, we would have to ascend another 900m in two days... so we decided to look for an alternative route, desperate now to finish the trek. In 37 degree heat, we trekked with little shade along a river to a town where we could get a bus.

This part of the trek was utterly brutal. We were so tired, and hot, and we became quite full of tempers and snapped at each other a lot in a way we never usually do.

“I’m so hot!” “What do you want me to do about it!” Etc. Who would have guessed we had spent every moment of 40 days in each other’s company! It wasn’t helped by accidentally taking the wrong turn, walking uphill unnecessarily, and hearing our bus pass below us.

Fortunately, we made it both alive and innocent of murder to a town where we could take a bus to Pokhara. Before we took the bus, we tried to order lunch. Although Pokhara was very close, Nepali buses are very slow, bouncy and stop a lot, so it could take hours. Sadly, the woman who owned the teashop said “no doing lunch” (despite the menu suggesting otherwise) so we decided to just get the bus.

Then, our fortunes/moods changed a little. A guide and his clients came to the teashop and marvelled at how we had spent 40 days trekking! No wonder we were so exhausted. The guide, however, encouraged to keep walking the extra 2 hours to Nayapul (the town where the Annapurna Circuit officially ends) as it was a really beautiful walk. Having walked so far, we were really tempted, but couldn’t do it without any food. Then, the guide ordered lunch for his clients (the woman was serving lunch now apparently) and so we had some lunch and felt refreshed. We resolved to carry on, and finish the Circuit!

The final few hours were also long and hot, but we kept resting in the shade and stopping for cokes and tea... and we made it. Relieved and absolutely shattered!

We decided to stay a night in the town just before Nayapul and we enjoyed several cold beers and felt proud of ourselves. We watched game of thrones on the phone but the episode was set in the night time and we could barely see screen! We kept asking each other, who was that? Are they dead? Did they die? Who was that? What happened! Luckily we were in better spirits so no snapping!

Next stop, Pokhara! That is for another blog entry!

[witchdoodle]

cute headcanons i just made up...

vivienne saw how pad struggled to get his hands on products for his hair type which is common up north but very uncommon south of the waking sea, and went out of her way to procure cocoa butter and castor oil for him. she used to wear her hair in elaborate hairstyles but just kinda got sick of it and wanted a sleeker look so she shaved it a couple years back, so she knows what’s up. she’s also hooks him up with stylists whenever they’re in orlais who know how to handle his hair type. she brought her personal stylist to halamshiral before celene’s ball for his sake, and gave him a lot of valuable advice about how to navigate orlesian racism/colourism within the game.

bull will happily spend hours braiding pad’s hair with surprising dexterity given that he’s missing half of two fingers. in turn pad loves to sit behind him with his legs slung over bull’s shoulders, rubbing balm into his horns (especially where they meet the skin of his head, which gets super dry and itchy) and helping shave the back of his head where he always misses spots.

after pad loses his arm bull helps him a lot with his hair.

meditation is a common practice among the qun, but the dalish do it too. pad’s keeper specifically taught him about mindfulness, which he still practices. pad does guided meditations for bull all the time which he looooves and finds super relaxing, and it helps with bull’s aftercare. (doms need aftercare too!)

silas works for dennet in the stables. dennet knew right away that he was worth his weight in gold as a stablehand and was like ALL THE REST OF YOU FUCK OFF THIS ONE’S MINE. he looked after him in the beginning when silas was still very shy and nervous around all these shemlen, made sure no one was bullying him or pushing him around and helped him gain confidence by backing up silas’ authority with the recruits who might be disinclined to listen to a “knife-ear,” especially a “cripple.” dennet basically was like: shut the fuck up he knows more than you. 

plus, silas introduced him to the halla he’d brought and dennet was D Y I N G to meet one. he’s a little too big to ride one (and halla won’t take human riders anyway) but he got a little giddy just being so close to one. one of them even ate an apple out of his hand.

leliana also saw his usefulness right away and recruited him to teach her elven scouts -- the vast majority of whom are city elves -- how to ride halla. halla are faster, nimbler, more intelligent, and able to traverse terrain horses cannot -- ideal for scouts who need to move quickly and quietly.

leliana also put him to work teaching her agents sign language, instantly seeing how useful that, too, would be -- given that it’s not the chantry’s sign language and rival spies would be unlikely to be able to understand it. now a ton of people in the inquisition know it and silas has a lot more people to talk to.

leliana and shireen had a lot to talk about, having wildly different perspectives on the chantry. shireen and vivienne have more in common as far as their backgrounds go, though the two of them responded to similar traumas by moving in opposite directions. all three of them bond over shoes, but shy’s a little, well, shy because being dalish has made her such a tomboy and she feels like she doesn’t know as much as them about fashion and femininity.

iron bull took one look at kost, BURST OUT LAUGHING, and instantly adopted him. he taught him a lot about the qun, given how little kost has ever known about that side of his heritage since his tal-vashoth mum died when he was a baby and he was raised dalish. it was really good also for bull to be around someone who was vashoth.

one of silas’ gifts to kost was horn balm. kost’s nubs get very itchy in the dry air of the frostbacks. silas eventually confessed it’s nipple cream for horses and kost was like jfsklajkglajhklaeh a. ... but he kept using it. i mean, it worked.

varric looks after shan, makes sure he takes breaks, eats, sleeps somewhere comfortable, washes himself, wears clean clothes, because otherwise shan will only do most of those things if told. he’s gotten in the habit of having shan scribe for him. saves his poor aching wrists (varric does a lot of writing and correspondence) and gives shan something useful to do, which seems to make shan feel content. shan also helps varric with maths and accounting.

pad and josie also definitely takes advantage of shan’s willingness to do that. pad is not very literate -- josephine taught him how to read common, he could only read elvish before -- and having shan read his correspondence to him and write down his replies helps him A TON. josie just finds that shan’s handwriting is EXTREMELY neat and precise and he’s one of her best scribes.

sera keeps trying to teach shan jokes. it doesn’t work very well but she’s taught him how to repeat a few of them verbatim even if his delivery sucks. she’s surprisingly nice to him and she’s the first to kick the crap out of someone for mistreating him, because shan can’t really stand up for himself and it’s not fair.

shan can’t do magic but can still do alchemy, and he makes a serum that really helps ease the pain in bull’s bad leg.

solas and shireen have had long conversations about elven history and culture. solas’ relationship with the dalish is... strained... but he does feel a lot of respect for shireen for making the effort to attempt to connect more to her nature (as compared to, say, sera), no matter how much the dalish got wrong. (and pad has since taught solas that just because dalish culture is different from elvhen culture does not mean it is worse.) and shireen, like pad, is willing to learn and have her ideas challenged. solas taught her a little bit about painting too.

josephine commissioned an artist for an official portrait (and had to fire the first one after absolutely chewing him out for trying to human-wash pad’s elfiness), which pad hated. solas got him to sit for a more relaxed, less formal portrait that more accurately captured his personality, and sketched him many times mostly without his knowledge. he gave one such sketch to bull. 

shireen... has a Huge Crush... on cassandra oh my god she’s like a giggly schoolgirl whenever she sees her like I LIKE... YOUR MUSCLES OKAY BYE runs away giggling

cole helps leith with their trauma, mental illness, and psychosis -- cole does a lot of reality checking for leith, because while they present similarly and are perceived similarly, cole only perceives truth, complicated as truth often is; leith is delusional, their mind just making shit up wholecloth. if leith asks is this real? they know they can trust cole when he answers yes or no, that cole won’t lie to them, in part because cole is a spirit/demon. they have looooong conversations alone, after which leith is usually much calmer and more lucid.

cole is the only one who knows leith’s surname/clan name. that name died with their clan; they won’t tell anyone else. not even cullen. they are just leith.

cullen paints or draws on leith’s arms with ink so they won’t cut themself.

cullen has long one-sided conversations with leith when leith is non-verbal -- he’ll pose a question and then answer it out loud, give a running commentary, just ramble stream-of-consciousness to keep talking, asks yes/no questions. it makes leith feel like they’re still a part of the conversation even when they can’t talk. cullen does a lot of little things like that to make leith feel normal or at least like it’s okay to be different. leith can’t talk today? all right, cullen will talk enough for them both. leith can’t make it outside? fine, they’ll stay indoors, who needs to go outside anyway. leith’s afraid there are people hiding and stalking them? cullen will check every nook and cranny.

solas has also had long talks with leith. solas never practiced blood magic much, we know that, but finds the practice fascinating and useful, so he was very interested to talk to someone who used blood magic as a tool and not as a means to an end in the pursuit of power for power’s sake. solas’ familiarity with spirits and the fade also makes him uniquely equipped to handle leith’s ... oddities.