#only a week and a half left

[insomnia-productions]

ELIJAH WOOD??

[keanureevesisbae]

It's been close to a month since I went to Wicked and I'm still listening to the soundtrack on a daily basis

[oh-no-its-bird]

I kind of ended up w a small pile of Hatake ocs and lore to fill the early konoha timeline void, and a big thing is like. They all die to preserve the narrative. A lot of them very young bc again, made to fill the time line, so logically, there had to be some Hatake kids/teenagers who met an unfortunate end.

So I'm kinda sitting here considering a 4 part fic where each chapter revolves around a specific Hatake and their inevitable death, w maybe a bonus chapter at the end being about Sakumo

"Death of the Wolves," the unfortunate end of the Hatake's, told in 4 parts

The Hatake's helped set the Konoha standard rule of "a team can only be made up of so many % of one clan" (with special exceptions) after a large chunk of them got sent on a mission together bc of their specializations and all wound up dead, wiping out a solid 90% of the clan in one night.

Actually, expanding on that bc the tragedy is so good -> I already established that in my time line, the Hatake head, Haruka (Sakumo's mother, Tobirama and Hashirama's aunt) died under a week after Tobirama's death, and she would have lead that failed mission. Does that mean one of Hiruzen's first acts as war time Hokage resulted in the accidental slaughter of his beloved dead Sensei's mother's clan? That's amazing actually, so much drama there. I bet him Danzo and Kagami argued like crazy after that monumental fuck up, probably went on to define how he feels ab being Hokage / what that entails. Fun times!

Anyways, I'd also be very interested in exploring early konoha politics n stuff. Especially from the multiple views of not the people in charge of making the village but the ones who are living in it. The view from the ground up, instead of looking down from the tower. The younger generations being brought to this new village, going from their isolated clan lands to suddenly being surrounded by others their age from different clans, possible for the first time ever depending on their age and their clans level of secrecy.

Also, I really wanna poke at the outsider pov of Madara and other founders— but mostly Madara bc I find his downfall very fun to think about, especially from the POV of someone not in his clan.

I'm so in love w the take of the Hatake's being fond of Madara bc "he'd make a very good Hatake." Something about the two tropes of the Uchiha being a clan that loves love and the Hatake being a clan w similar values when it comes to family and loyalty just meshes so well.

Comedy moment where Haruka is weirdly insistent on Madara potentially marrying into the clan, not even for the politics or anything but specifically bc she NEEDS a cute squishy Hatake baby with his massive hair. She NEEDS IT, MADARA.

Anyways also just the early konoha inter clan drama but like. From the eyes of the clan kids. The Uchiha kids seem to be having some sort of terf war with the Senju— but it was interrupted by the Hyuuga, and now the Senju and Uchiha kids are somehow banding together against the Hyuuga? But oh no now the Nara kids are teaming up w the Hyuuga, and the Hatake kid (singular bc there's literally only like 1) seems to have an actual blood feud going on with the Hyuuga clan heir— but the older Hatake teenagers are fond of the Hyuuga's baby clan heir so it's just a mess. All the clan drama but with none of the tragedy bc everyone involved is a child.

Meanwhile the older clan members are somehow bonding over their children's fights bc they're all struggling to pull them away, or going "what the fuck do you mean you teamed up with the SENJU??" Then sharing a disbelieving Look(tm) w the opposing Senju's parents before realizing what they just did and having a crisis of faith ab it

Meanwhile the teenagers are having a wonderful time, especially those from smaller more isolated clans like the Hatake. There's so much romantic drama, there's probably a whole shinobi soap opera happening in that direction. Hormonal shinobi teenagers from opposing clans just got dropped into the same dating pool it's gonna be a MESSSS.

Even funnier if you take crumbs from my senju weed empire au and like. Some of these clans regularly smoke n stuff. Meanwhile other clans have never touched a psychedelic in their life. Some are especially vulnerable to drugs due to heightened senses (Orochi, Inuzuka, Hatake) while others have been smoking since they were younger and have an insane tolerance and very much distorted views of a reasonable amount of weed to smoke (Senju, Nara, Shiranui) There is no way in hell that goes well. Someone is going to get fucked up in a MAJOR way.

Well-intentioned Nara accidentally gets a bunch of dog wired guys and one snake high out of their fucking minds, the high lasts a full week for some of them and one sometimes wonders if they ever really came down from it

Anyways I got a bit off track but yeah! Early Konoha fic that revolves around the daily lives of differently aged Hatake ocs, taking a look from different angles of Konoha and all the silly clan drama and daily lives of an early Konoha shinobi— each chapter being different degrees of generally lighthearted, but ending in the Hatake's death. The fact that each Hatake is in with a different crowd and is a different age would make it even more fun and easier to explore the different layers Konoha has to offer! It's for sure on my list of things I wanna write

(Also I'd really love to have it just so I can point to it as a good introduction for my Hatake ocs. I love tricking people into learning ab my ocs it's great)

[artuurle]

the issue with most of my creative process being very "in the moment" is i end up with a bunch of doodles for things i then decide isnt "canon" to things or i get REALLY DERAILED, so last night i drew some love and loss au doodles that kinda occur later on. Huzzle sweep.

The last one above is traveling to another god domain really hurriedly looks like in my head to be 100% clear. mini rift <3. no time for flair we needs to GO NOWS.

if you cannot tell I love drawing huzzle a lot. my cunty lamp <3

[hanginglikeafruit]

HAPPY VENOM MONTH, FELLOW FREAKS 🖤

[eerna]

gonna be SO real with you guys. my pre-Hadestown-live sountrack avoidance is making me lose my marbles a little bit

[bucketsofmonsters]

Where the Light Enters - Part 19

Cole/Female Inquisitor

cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, enemies to lovers, referenced noncon, happy ending, fingering, penetrative sex, loss of virginity, masturbation

word count: 4k

ao3 link

Masterlist

Defeating high dragons did not seem to have any meaningful effect on this war at all. Cassandra and Bull insisted it was vital if what she said about the elven voices in her head was true, but she suspected by the excitement in their eyes that they’d both simply wanted to fight a dragon.

Everyone had returned home from their dragon hunting missions and no one had lost a limb so at least she could count that as a success. 

Things had calmed down, at least for them. It was the scouts who were out doing the real work now, as Sera kept loudly announcing to people. They were looking for any dragons, she supposed. Solas was convinced they were the key to winning this. He said there were legends about dragons being tied to the veil, that perhaps one had been corrupted by someone and that was what was tearing holes in the fade. 

She didn’t really know. Cassandra had already informed her she would not be going anywhere near this final battle. She had done it after Cullen had attempted to inform her of this and then had run off after getting shouted at. 

Despite it being calm, no one was settled. They could all tell the end was near and they were on edge, incredibly jumpy. She wasn’t, of course, but Cole had informed her that perhaps this was because she was always on edge. 

Cole seemed relatively relaxed as well. He wasn’t one to worry about things like his potential demise at the hands of a corrupted dragon. He kept trying to help everyone else, force them out of their perpetual stress, but was having very little luck with it. Most could not be so easily distracted from such things.

Varric, however, was more than happy to be distracted. She found them sitting off in a corner somewhere, playing a game of wicked grace. 

“I’m helping,” Cole declared to her. “Mind won’t wander but it’s restless, has to do something. Teach him how to move his hands, hold his eyes. Spirits don’t have tells, just have to not get thrown out into the cold, chased down for playing the game.”

“Oye,” she said, pointing accusationally at Varric. “You’re trying to get him to help you cheat! I’ll have you know, if anyone is exploiting him for profit, it will be me.”

“Noted,” Varric said with a chuckle, rounding up the small pile of coins in the middle of the table. “I won this round.”

Cole nodded. “The ace in his sleeve won it for him.”

“I’m telling you, kid,” Varric said, like he was teaching a life lesson and not scamming someone. “You’ve got to call people when they’re doing that. Or work against it.”

“But winning cheered you up. You’re not thinking about the dragon anymore, bent and wrong, turned against its home. Untethered.”

Varric groaned. “And you ruined it. Better luck next time, kid, I’m going to go practice my shooting. There’s always room for another if you want it,” he said, giving Britches a pointed look.

“I’m good,” she said. “Not like I’ll be shooting at anything anytime soon anyways.”

“So you’re really not going?” he said, not sounding surprised at all. More sad than anything.

“What, to see the most dangerous creature alive right now?” She scoffed. “Why would I?”

“To help.”

“No thank you,” she said, shooting him a deeply insincere grin. “I’m sure you’ll be fine on your own. And if you’re not, I’ll be glad I wasn’t there to get caught up in it.”

“Whatever you say. You two have fun.”

With that, he left the pair of them alone. 

“Any luck helping people?” she asked, hopping up to sit on the edge of the table.

“No. Varric humors me. Sometimes he humors me so much he forgets to be scared for a moment.”

“Hey, that’s something,” she said with a smile. “Who’s your next target?”

“I don’t think I want to help them," he said, fidgeting with his hands. “I think I’m tired and I miss you and they’re all so scared it makes my head hurt.”

“Take a break then,” she said, grabbing his hand as she hopped off the table. 

He seemed concerned about the whole ordeal but let her lead him along, tugging him back to their room in the attic of the tavern. 

She tugged him down onto the mattress before he had time to worry. He fell on top of her, almost knocking the air out of her, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind. 

She pushed him up off of her, partially so she could breathe again and partially so she could look at him. 

When faced with his disheveled hair and a flushed face revealed from under a tipped off hat, she almost instantly drew him back in for a kiss, rolling her hips up into his. 

She pulled back, pressing her hands into his shoulders to keep him from following her and kissing her once more and blurted out, “Do you want to have sex?”

His eyes darted down to her lips and then back up to her eyes. “We’ve had sex.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not like that, real sex.” She grinded her hips up into his as if in demonstration. 

His eyes widened, excitement filling his face. “Really?”

He waited, clearly demanding an actual repose from her. When she nodded, he dove back into a kiss, hand snaking down into her pants, pushing one gently inside her and crooking it up. 

A soft moan was pulled from her and alongside it, she asked, “What are you doing?” as she pulled away from his kiss with a laugh. 

“Prepping you,” he said, his fingers crooking up in practiced motions. “That’s what you’re supposed to do. It’s what everyone else does.”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm but I promise I can take you”

He frowned, a little wrinkle forming between his brows. “I want to.”

She sighed a long-suffering sigh, hiding a smile. “If you insist.”

He moved, carefully and slowly, maybe too slowly. She could feel herself start to become impatient but shoved the feeling down. It was clearly important to Cole and she could allow it. 

And people were so rarely this gentle with her. When they were it was always done with an air of condescension, like she was some fragile thing that couldn’t take it. 

That wasn’t how it was now. There was no condescension in Cole's actions. They were simply laced with an excess of care. Everything he did was. 

He slipped a second finger in, steady and sure. Her body welcomed it, more than prepared. 

He scissored her open, carefully watching her face for any sign of discomfort now that he couldn’t read it out of her mind. She was pliant and soft underneath him, trying to quell any impatient squirming and allow him this. 

She decided she could allow the bit of impatience that was unbuttoning his pants and shoving his underwear down to release his dick. He barely seemed to notice, absolutely focused on what he was doing, brow furrowed with his lower lip trapped between his teeth. 

She gave his cock a steady stroke and he glared down at her. “You’re rushing,” he said with a huff. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, batting her eyes innocently up at him. 

He gave into her a little, removing his fingers and shifting down so his length ran through her folds, gasping as he did. 

“You’re so wet,” he said, voice verging on delight.

“A brilliant deduction.”

He didn’t even bother looking annoyed, barely tamping down his grin enough to kiss her, deep and messy. It was frankly a bad kiss, too much too quickly, the desperation in it leaving it frantic and sloppy. She loved every second of it.  

The head of his cock teased her entrance, not intentionally but simply sliding along her as he moved, thrusting beside her.

She stamped down her dignity and gave him a quiet, “Please.”

His eyes lit up at the word and he shifted, ever so slightly, to position himself above her with intention. 

He stared down at her face, searching for something in it.

“Are you sure?” he asked, the air from his words tickling her face. 

She nodded, arms lifting to wrap around him, urging him closer. 

He pushed just the tip of his cock inside of her before freezing.

“You can move more than that, I promise,” she goaded him, trying to roll her hips to meet his.

He reached down and pinned her to the mattress, keeping her from moving as he shook his head. “If I do, I'm going to come.”

She laughed, the sound echoing through the room without a hint of malice to be found within it. “You’re so sweet.”

He nodded, distracted as he focused on keeping himself together. 

Eventually, he seemed to decide he was composed enough to move, pushing inside her steadily. He paused once more when he was hilted inside her, a loud moan escaping him. 

She giggled, shifting underneath him and earning another moan from his mouth. “One of these days you’ll learn to be quiet.”

He shook his head. “I feel good, why would I lock it inside?”

She smiled. It was a sweet idea, a declaration of happiness and pleasure, to him untainted by anything. 

She supposed it was alright. She didn’t mind the idea of everyone hearing him anyway. 

Finally he began to move, slowly and carefully, and she suspected it was as much for his sake as hers. Every movement was punctuated by a loud cry, his hands reaching down to grab the sheets below them. 

His thrusts sped up, movements stuttering and quick, inexperienced in the motions, lost in his pleasure. 

Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair, pulling his face down for messy kisses between gasps and moans.  

And then a knot began to tangle up inside of her, unbidden and unwelcome, pulling soft emotions taught. 

“We should stop,” she said, and he stilled instantly, pulling out of her and moving to the other end of the mattress. 

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“You can keep going by yourself,” she said cautiously. “I just think I don’t want your cum on me.”

He nodded, a wide smile plastering itself across his face. “I’m very proud of you.”

“Alright,” she said with a laugh. “Save it for when you’re done jerking off, alright?

He was still beaming at her when he moved to take himself in hand and she had to fight to keep another laugh from bubbling out of her. 

He came quickly, as he always did, staring at her longingly the whole time. 

“You’re such an idiot,” she said with a laugh, moving to kiss him as he whimpered and moaned through an orgasm, staring at her with nothing but adoration.

He looked up at her, breathless, as she pressed kisses into his face. “I love you so much,” she whispered to him between kisses, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Do you know that?”

“I do. It’s one of the only things I can read from you anymore. Sometimes, barely, fleetingly”

She smiled at the thought. “What, it’s that strong?”

He nodded, leaning into each kiss as it was laid on his skin. 

They fell asleep before long. Cole seemed like he really needed the rest and she was never one to pass up a nap. 

When she woke up, Cole was gone and there was some kind of scuffle going on downstairs. She quickly dressed and rushed down to see patrons of the tavern trying to shoo Cole outside as he held up what was a frankly massive cat by the scruff of its neck. It was covered in brown and gray stripes that only stopped for its white underbelly. 

“Look what I found,” Cole said, holding the cat aloft slightly away from him. 

Under normal circumstances, she could probably be convinced to let him keep the creature. However, given his big tomcat cheeks that indicated he was probably feral and the hissing and attempted mauling that indicated he was definitely feral, it seemed an ill advised venture. “Cole,” she said, tone deeply exasperated. “Please put the cat down before it tears you to shreds.”

“It doesn’t have a name,” he said, functionally ignoring her. “Would it be rude to give it one?”

“He doesn’t need a name in the wild, where you are going to return him to,” she said, with an amount of patience she didn’t even know she was capable of mustering. 

“Its name is Clover,” he announced, seeming proud of himself.

“Did he tell you that?” she asked.

“No, I decided.”

“Great, fascinating stuff. Would Clover like to stop clawing at you?”

“It would. It just doesn't know if it is safe. I will show it that it is.”

“You know this is a bad idea, right?” she demanded of him.

“I know you think that,” he said, his voice petulant. 

She rolled her eyes. “Back in my head again?”

“No. I can just tell.”

“Groundbreaking stuff. Alright, have fun with your new cat. Keep it away from me and probably keep it away from the tavern.”

She didn’t even notice Solas in the corner until he cleared his throat. “Yes,” he added, staring at the cat. “You should probably find some place less crowded to keep it.”

Cole nodded and made his way out the door, feral cat in tow, just leaving her and Solas. 

Her instincts told her to just leave, to run up the stairs so she wouldn’t have to talk to him. But she could feel goosebumps rise on her neck and knew he was staring at her.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, turning to him. “I didn’t take you for a big drinker.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I was waiting for you. We need to talk.”

“Can we do it later?” she asked, already regretting not brushing him off and running back up the stairs. 

“No, it is quite urgent.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, backing out the tavern door as they spoke, Solas following behind her. The voices in her head were raising, echoing, shouting warnings at her that she could not hear, making it hard to focus on anything. She stumbled as she walked backwards, everything getting so overwhelming. 

And then everything around her faded away, an impenetrable blackness coming up around her. 

The only reason she knew she hadn’t gone blind was that Solas was standing in the void with her, looking just as disoriented as she felt, though she imagined there were probably fewer voices screaming in his head. 

And then there was an old woman in front of them, with hair done up like horns and the look of a mage about her. 

She was frozen in place, unable to move her arms, though Solas seemed to have no issue moving and shifted away from her easily.  

The woman chuckled as Britches struggled against invisible bindings and then, with a flick of the woman’s wrist, she could move again.

“What was that?” Britches demanded, 

“Just a bit of control over you. The pool must have a price, mustn’t it?”

She wanted to insist that surely the screaming voices were enough of a deterrent for most but she figured it was unwise to anger the woman who could seemingly control her without even extending any major effort. “What do you want from me?” she asked instead, trying not to sound too confrontational. 

“I’ve come to help, since you can’t seem to parse the voices on your own. I didn’t mean to grab him,” she said, gesturing at Solas. “But he seems to have tagged along so I suppose he can stay. Odd, he always seems to be in the right place at the right time, doesn’t he?” Her voice had a knowing lilt to it that she could not parse. “What the voices you took on and can’t understand are trying to say is that there is not just a dragon to be defeated, but a price to be paid. You must be given for the Inquisition to survive.”

“Given?” she asked, reeling back, having a bad feeling she knew exactly what this prophecy wanted to take. 

“That’s what you need to know, you can figure the rest out, I’m sure. Especially with such a capable mage at your side.” She shot Solas a look that meant something, something Solas understood. What it meant, she had no idea. She was too busy being filled with panic. 

With that, the world faded back in and the voices quieted to their typical wave of chaos. 

Solas grabbed her and pulled her to the side, speaking in hushed tones. “She’s right, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. The dragon can be stopped but I was looking through the fade and the two of you are tethered. It can only be killed in conjunction with the anchor in your hand. Without that, the dragon is unkillable. While one remains so must the other.”

“Right,” she said, already trying to find an out from this conversation. “I’ll think about that.”

“You should,” he insisted, “a lot of people’s lives are riding on this.”

“Whatever,” she hissed, storming off to go find Cole. 

The thought kept swirling through her head, that Cole was going to fight that dragon the second they found it. She knew her telling him it was unkillable wouldn’t do anything. He wouldn’t run, it didn’t matter what she said. He would try because that’s who he was. 

So it was her or him, at the end of the day. Well, her or thousands upon thousands of people, but that didn’t really matter to her. She’d let them die in a heartbeat, wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. She found it impossibly and frustratingly difficult to say the same when she imagined Cole there, killed by something she could have prevented. 

But she couldn’t die, couldn’t give up now, not after everything she’d done. It wasn’t an option. 

And yet she found herself turning around to go talk to Solas again. 

When she found Cole, she knew he could tell that she was exhausted and panicked. Whether or not he could see into her head anymore, that much was abundantly clear. She was tense, jaw clenched and breaths coming too slowly, clearly intentionally slowed for others benefit. 

And, more than that, he took one look at her and knew if he tried to speak to her about it, she would freak out, spiral and push him away, so instead he just looked her up and down and said, “I lost the cat.”

That much was evident from the long scratch up his face alongside his empty arms. 

“Looks like it,” she responded, giving him a halfhearted smile. 

Before they got a chance to talk any longer, shouts started to rise and she saw that Sera’s scout had returned. 

Even from a distance she looked solemn. Sera practically tackled her to the ground when she got back, having clearly been worried about her, though she’d never admit it. 

“I found it,” she said to the crowd that was slowly gathering, sensing that she had important news. “It’s a few days' ride away.”

Everything got incredibly frantic after that. People were bustling around, grabbing every weapon they could find, stocking resources. This was going to be it, they all whispered. Take everything, after this it will be done, one way or another. 

She barely helped. She felt queasy as she watched them. 

People kept offering her things to do. Blackwall came up to her and asked if she could help lead the horses to their wagons, Varric asking if she could help carry supplies. Even Vivienne seemed to have something for her, asking if she wanted to abscond for a few moments and drink some wine together. That was the only offer she almost took them up on. But she had to be sober, it didn’t seem right not to be, not now. 

The offers never really seemed to end. It seemed to be out of some need to see her involved, to make it look like she was helping. She truly did not understand it. 

Josephine came to her with an authoritative air about her, seemingly actually needing real aid with something, and Britches looked up, nonplussed. “Yes?”

“We are doing one last plea to nobles with resources near the fight. I believe you are in good standing with some of them, your presence could be of great help.”

She scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “I think I’m good here, thank you.”

“I assure you it will not be dangerous,” Josephine said, seeming confused by her refusal. “We just need to do our best to support them from the sidelines. A well supported army is a successful army.”

“I know. I’d rather not though.”

Britches got up and wandered off without waiting for a response, where to she wasn’t sure. She was getting antsy but she focused everything she had into staying put. 

Less people came up to ask for help after that. It wasn’t even that they knew she’d refuse. Public opinion was simply starting to turn. She wasn’t the poor defenseless girl anymore, she was someone refusing to help. They’d invested time and care into her and what had she done other than abandon them at every opportunity. 

They were right, of course. There was no other reaction she could have expected from them. It needed to happen, she needed to be exactly as terrible as she always was, needed to turn them all down without recompense.

There were a few stragglers, ones who still had some modicum of belief in her or a hope that couldn’t be snuffed out so quickly. She wasn’t sure which and she didn’t much care. 

Is 

“If you want to come,” Cullen said, offering her an olive branch, “you could go and stay back. I’ve heard you do that in the field, it wouldn't be any different than that. Just so we don’t have to leave you here and you don’t have to just sit around and worry.”

She shook her head resolutely. “I’m just fine here. And don’t get too concerned, I promise I won’t waste away worrying. In fact, I’ll try not to worry at all.”

Cassandra scoffed. “Can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

And then they began to head out. 

She watched them all pass her by, seemingly having successfully worked to piss off every single person there. Cullen was fuming at the head of the army, refusing to give her so much as a look. Blackwall and Sera gossipped about her as she walked by, with little regard for her presence. Bull shot her an incredulous look and she couldn’t help but try to figure out what he was wondering. Maybe what he’d ever seen in her, maybe how someone so vile had tricked him so effectively, maybe something entirely different. It was a mystery to her, probably would always be. She caught a few more nasty looks aimed at her as they left, some from people she didn’t even know.

Vivienne was the only one who didn’t seem angry, giving her a regal nod as she passed. She’d always respected the way Britches played the game, was one of the few who recognized it was a game at all. 

Cole sat by her side the whole time, reluctant to leave. She wanted to grab his hand and beg him to stay but she knew she couldn’t. He was too selfless to ever consider it, and besides, she needed them gone. 

Cole leaned over and whispered, “They’ll miss you. Right now they can see themselves, drowning, devoured, dying. It’s hard to see anything else. And you just sit, safe, secure. Alone.”

She just nodded. She knew that, knew it incredibly well. She’d been them many times and could not fault them for it. No one hated the safe more than frightened people did. 

She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever actually felt safe before. 

Varric did come to see her as the last of the troops filed out, sidling up beside her. “They don’t mean it,” he said, giving her a pat on the back. “They’re just worried. People get mean when they’re worried. You’ll patch it right up when we get back.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me, they can think what they want.”

He gave her a knowing look but didn’t fight her on the matter. “Whatever you say, kid. See you on the other side.”

Cole stood up, running out of time to stall through. He turned and stared at her, like he was trying to figure something out.

“You’ll be fine,” she said, focused on keeping her voice level. “You always are.”

He nodded. “And then it will be fixed. And we can be us.”

“Yeah, it will be. Now go,” she said, shooing him off. “Go help people, don’t let me stop you.”

He stumbled off, turning to look back at her over and over again until he’d passed the gates and left her sight completely. She imagined even past the walls, he kept looking back, until Skyhold was far in the distance. 

She watched to chase him, to give him the biggest kiss she's ever given him, but that would give her away, would show what the voices roaring her her head so conveniently hid from him. 

So she didn't do what she wanted, didn't take one last look at any of their faces, let them believe what they wanted. She just let them leave.

The second the last troop had left Skyhold, she was off, racing to the garden where Solas had returned to, sneaking out of their ranks. 

He looked over at her as he arranged the ritual circle on the ground. “I was worried you might not come.”

She shrugged. “Thought about it. Are you sure we need to do this? There’s no way they could win on their own?”

He shook his head. “It has to be the mark, it can’t be done without it.”

“And there’s no chance I survive this?”

He looked almost exasperated, which seemed a bit unfair considering the circumstances. “I told you before, I haven’t exactly done this previously so it’s impossible to know for sure. It certainly seems unlikely. The spell will rip you apart. I think it would take a stronger person than you to survive this.”

“Whatever,” she said, staring down at the mark on her palm. “Couldn’t we cut my hand off or something? Does it need to be attached to me?”

“I meant it when I said I considered every option. I would not be doing it this way if I thought there was something else to be done,” he said, voice softening slightly. “Despite our differences, I do not want you dead.”

It meant more to her than it should have. She was probably just overemotional. 

“You aren't who you say you are,” she leveled at him as she forced the emotions down. There was no reason to keep leverage anymore, she could say whatever she wanted to him. 

“I am not.” At least now, at the end, he graced her with the truth.

“I know you don't like me and I know you don’t think I was good for him," she said, fighting back a sob. She managed it. She'd gotten very good at not crying. “But please tell Cole I love him.”

Solas nodded. “Of course”

And with her last breath, she laughed.

[lemongogo]

college … wasted on the youth (me)

[murdleandmarot]

A quick bluebelle painting :))

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

the dog returns to its own vomit etc etc

[shadyhouse]

hey im really sorry to do this again but would anyone be able to throw a few bucks at me so i can get groceries? i have almost no food in the house and im not getting paid til wednesday :/ anything at all will help me immensely 🙏🙏

vnm: tobias_leviathan

pp: paypal.me/bewearrr

[somefishycat]

WIP Wednesday 10/23/24 (+ some more from 10/9/24) sentences under cut!

marble wall 2 for @auburnlaughter @tamsinswriting @kallisto-k (x2) @violet-prism-creatively @hurricanebreeze

@tiercell @quietly-sleeping @zyrafowe-sny @wizisbored @eriquin

Gus's dad told him a story once. It's not an obscure story. He’s heard other versions of it since then. Dad's went something like this. Long ago during the Savage Ages, a young witch’s lover, a beautiful girl with a talent for illusions, was killed in a tragic accident. (“Some say it was wild magic itself that killed her,” Dad had added. “For, despite her notable preference for illusions, she did use other magic, even powering her weaker spells with a galdorstone.”) Unable to accept her death, her lover tried summoning her spirit. But it failed; she had already passed on. Desperate, he attempted to resurrect her body instead, using her galdorstone and all disciplines of magic. (“He was a wild witch too!” “Everyone was, Augustus.”) As time passed, the girl’s corpse began to rot. The Titan was patient, but one way or another, all bodies must return to him eventually. Still, the witch could not accept this. He replaced her decaying parts with those of beasts. After many more years, the witch, aged by time and the numerous curses he'd acquired, realized he was dying himself. Finally, he buried the girl's remains, bone and demon flesh alike, under the tree that gave the pair their palismen. He buried the stone, too, having no more use of it and no family left to entrust it to. Every day for the rest of his life he would visit her grave. And one day, when the dirt beneath the palistrom tree began to shift, he was there to see it. A witch’s hand, perfect and whole, reached up from the soil. At last, he had succeeded in reanimating her. He dug her out, shivering and confused, but something was wrong. The thing looked like her, but it did not have her eyes. It did not have her soul. (Here, Dad paused. “What happened to them?” Gus asked.) He killed it, and lay down to die himself. (“Respect the dead, Augustus,” Dad said, gesturing to his collection of crystals. “Speak to them, if you wish. But remember that they ARE dead. We cannot change this.”)

marble wall 3 for @oriharaizayadividesintoslytherin (x2) @wizisbored @lizhly (x2) @sourb0i @eriquin

@adhdavinci

Hunter's just… sick of people mourning him. He's dead. He gets it. Watching everyone be miserable is not how he'd like to spend the next few hours. Maybe the last few hours he has. He looks at Flapjack, resting in a pile with the other palismen and egg. Flying probably isn't a good idea. Not right now, when other humans could see. Not until after dark. “So we sneak in, bury your corpse, and then leave without a word? That's it?” Luz says. “Yes. That sounds great. Could we talk about something else now? Something that doesn't involve me?” She shrugs. “Okay. It's… literally your funeral. What, uh…” “Ruler's Reach,” Gus suggests. “He was talking about that earlier. It's his favorite book, isn't it?” Oh, right. King, a literal Titan, wrote it.

ones left behind for @zyrafowe-sny @twyrewolf @aparticularbandit @kalira @asha10100101010

@quietly-sleeping @enigma-the-mysterious (x2) @whimsicalmeerkat @1attheedge @loyal-house-of-lupin

@stonemaskedtaliesin

Eber chucks the scroll at his head. It rolls up and sticks to his horrible goop hair. “Was that necessary,” he sighs, picking it out and coaxing the abomination gunk off of it. “What did you do now?” He opens it, scoffing in disgust at what he sees. Raine peeks over his shoulder and laughs. “You probably deserved that. Oh, is that Perry? I didn't know you were still talking to each other.” “We weren't.” Darius starts looking through the conversation. “Weren't you supposed to be doing something?” “Right, right.” They pull a couple gross bottles from the cabinets before leaving the room. Raine missed one. Eber can smell it. They climb Darius's back to reach, because they are very small. “Ugh, get off, mutt.” And because they'll take any excuse to bother Darius, of course. Holding the elixir bottle securely, Eber presses their head against his cheek for a moment. They even throw in a little bit of a purr. “I know,” he sighs, placing them gently on the floor instead of shoving them like usual. Maybe that's just because he doesn't want the bottle to break and spill all over. Maybe he's feeling soft today. Several orange hairs stick to Darius's goopy beard. Eber does not point them out. He leaves the kitchen, following Raine. He grabs a few elixirs the bard missed. Eda and Lilith hid them all over in the week they spent here, wanting to be sure they'd always have some nearby. Eberwolf doesn't much like the smell of them, but apparently nobody else minds. And even he has to admit Lilith’s beast is intimidating. Raine's gathered the remaining inhabitants of the house, explaining where they're going and why. “With any luck, we’ll be back soon. If not… Steve's in charge,” they say. “Aw yeah, housesitting for Steve! We're going to have fun, guys.”

[brb-on-a-quest]

Counting “hanging out on tumblr with the moots” as a hobby for the To Do list simply bc no energy for anything else 😭

[zipmode]

PLAN OF ATTACK FOR TODAY!!!:

1. I pick up my meds

2. I get breakfast

3. I finish my laundry

4. I do my homework

5. I get to play viddy games and draw :)

HOLD ME TO THIS AGENDA. If I do not abide by it feel free to make a callout post and cancel my ass!!!!

[b1gwings]

a little something i made for my dnd group back in september ^_^

[monkee-mobile]

EVERYBODY LOOK AT MIKE’S STUPID DUMB KNEES

okay, move along