#they're all great fics

[writeouswriter]

People sorting ao3 solely by stats and only clicking on fics with a certain amount of kudos or comments, you will not survive the winter, nor the summer, nor at all, *brings out knife,* run

[mahi-does-some-art]

What if, instead of the Sorcerers' Society being just a small organization with a headquarters, it was instead a hidden city or capital where not only could sorcerers go to for assistance and to get their licenses, but could safely live and learn without having to put so much effort into hiding their magic from general human public? (Something similar to Witch Hat Atelier perhaps)

A hidden away capital with houses and apartments and magical shops selling everything a sorcerer would ever need. Where they can safely converse on the street and network and apprentices can talk to each other and swap tales of their lessons and masters.

Out in the expanse of the human world, it's hard to come by each other so having a place to live like that would be great.

But also it would make Solomon getting chased out by a dragon so much funnier (or sadder) since he and the mystery apprentice would have been the ones to found the Sorcerers' Society in the first place.

He would probably own his own house there and come back there whenever there was a meeting he had to attend or some urgent matter to discuss. Solomon wouldn't stay there longer than he usually had to and his property is usually empty.

But when sorcerers usually take in an apprentice, that apprentice lives with their master in order to make the most of learning opportunities and a lot of them tend to move back to the Sorcerers' Society for convenience.

If Solomon was able to convince MC to live with him for "educational purposes" completely separate from the brothers and Devildom, who's to say he wouldn't give living amongst his peers an honest try once more?

[hballegro]

"It's more than something. It's everything."

s8e11 "Life Time"

painted screenshot. cannot give a time estimate, i lost track long ago. still gouache brush, my beloved, with blur tools to fade edges and so on

i have to go to the zoo now and will be making the version with the clock later [i cannot express how long ive been battling with hawkeye's face, gamers]. background went very fast like i said it would lol

version 2 [as in, w/ clock] will probably be done later today, and i will edit this and add it when that happens [and prolly make a separate post too, for celebration purposes, and will link them]. i will also compile progress pics for that post. they are terrifying early on lmao

"A lot of very touching songs came outta that war" previous painting

"It was pink, and perfect, and I tossed it in the scrap bucket" previous painting

everyone say thank you to bj to being a perfect painting subject today he was very polite and he looks about how i wanted unlike SOME PEOPLE

that was me to my sibling last night, and i stayed up til 1:10ish and still didnt finish the final pass over hawkeye's eye. everything else took like 5ish minutes

also everyone say thank you to margaret and nurse kellye for also being perfect and lovely and pleasant to work with

photo used blatantly stolen from this post thank you again @remyfire i owe you my life

update edit;

clock back

[nny11writes]

[mewtwo24]

Not to be That Guy but like.

Am I the only one that can't stop thinking about how Tianlang-Jun says about Luo Binghe that he pretends to be cold-hearted like his mother. The hint of fondness there, the heartache in that utterance.

Like it drives me absolutely insane. Imagining her putting on a front of strength, cold and driven and unrelenting. Why does TLJ say that about her. Did she secretly look for solutions that meant reconciling with demons instead of hurting them when her sect wasn't looking? (I wonder this because I feel like his weird fondness for SQQ would lowkey track if it's connected to the woman he once loved.) Did he mean that she was tasked with basically assassinating him and she fell in love with him instead (re: failed step one)? Did he mean that she was fond and doting in her own way (e.g. conceding he was attractive, paying for his exploits and humoring him)? Did he mean that, like LBH, she thought that power would be the thing to protect her--and that it was disguising a person who was deeply and privately wounded? All four????? I don't need sleep I need a n s w e r s

Did she know about the Huanhua Palace Master's skeevy ass intentions before she met TLJ? Or did those only come to significant light after she fell in love with TLJ? Is that why she never anticipated that level of betrayal, because initially she had no intention of being with anyone romantically? And HHPM just assumed she would be under his thumb forever?? Was she furious at her own indiscretion or did she try to use the pregnancy as a bargaining chip, a way to try to stop the immortals of Cang Qiong Mountain from attacking TLJ (plus the bonus of marriage entrapment no takesies backsies this is where LBH gets it from)? Did she try to use that claim on her to dissuade HHPM from his covetous advances, framing herself as tainted so that she could finally escape? Did she dream of a life by TLJ's side, far away from Cang Qiong Mountain?

Like. Literally every single permutation of what this could mean guts me to hell. Do you ever just cry about tianxi because I--[loud bawling noises]

[goldenhand9107]

crazy concept, but people can make jokes about bucktommy rawdogging each other while also wanting them to have sweet and soft tender moments, want them to be touchy and domestic and supportive, but also get each other off in the kinkiest ways possible.

it is, in fact, not one or the other, and it is also not fetishizing their relationship. funnily enough

[thebrainrotsreal]

Love alternate realities, love diff dimensions, love thinking about all the different types of evil Mark there can be! I just had to design some ideas for it! :D It ended up being how subtle or not subtle I can nod to Nolan's design, haha, which was fun. btw: If you see any spelling errors: nuh uh, there aren't any and you can't trick me.

[ingo-ingoing-ingone]

Submas Fandom Positivity Poll!

Enough negativity, I wanna see people talking about what they love most about this fandom!! :D There are some wonderful people here who have made my life better and I wanna see some of the fandom-specific stuff you like the most :)

Enjoy <3

[teapot-of-tyrahn]

Mumpearl Drabble please :3?

His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo.

PearlescentMoon has gone by many names: Peril. Farmer Queen. Santa Perla. Madre de Girasoles. The Great Lunar Neighbour. Even Moonatrix Octa. She was no stranger to deification. She'd been worshipped by a wide variety of people. By her own Helianthias, by the Harengons of Sanctuary, by Jeremys of Stratos: and, now, even by The Order of Octa. And yet, out of all these followings, out of all these flocks of religions, cults and sects dedicated to her image… there was only one she was interested in. The Mooners. Or, rather, its founder. And his name was Mumbo Jumbo. She had to admit, it was odd. She’d been worshipped by countless mortals throughout history, but this wasn't just another mindless devotee, no, before that, he had been someone she'd known; somebody she'd loved. A friend. Before he had been a Mooner he had been apart of Boatem. He still was. It was surreal to see the same man she'd laughed with, the same man who had teased her and taught her what it was like to love and be loved and be human… worship the very thing about her that wasn't. Worship the idea of her, worship the concept of a omnipotent, despotic rock in the sky, worship everything about herself she hated. She had hated being a goddess. That's why she had come to Hermitcraft in the first place. She was sick of being treated as a stagnant notion - something simultaneously too abstract to comprehend and yet something superficial enough to be classified by one word: perfect. She wasn't a person, just an idea. A deity. But Mumbo Jumbo had taught her how to be a person. No… he'd been the one who had made her a person. Or maybe he had just showed her that she had always been one. He made her laugh. Cry. Love. Hate. Learn. Live. Experience. He taught her how to feel, want, explore, be… he had showed her the wonders of this world, shown her that everything alive was sacred and unkillable, that this planet was alive and thus beautiful. He had made her fall in love with the dull world that she had grown to loathe over the centuries all over again. He had made her fall in love with him. And so, watching him fall in love, not with her — not with the genuine, real version of herself she'd become — but with postulated perception of herself she'd been trying so hard to unbecome? The dehumanized idea of what she was supposed to be? The version of herself he'd unwittingly taught her she wasn't defined by? It felt like death. It felt like she was dying. Was this heartache? Could somebody who never had a heart have it break? Pearl loved Mumbo. But Mumbo only loved the Moon. Not Pearlescent.

The moon had two faces; one of which was always hidden from sight. One face could never be seen the human eye. No matter how much they tried, no matter what they used — whether it be telescopes, binoculars, spectrometers, or observation stations… nobody could ever see the far side of the moon. Nobody could ever see her in full display. Only in facets; fragments. In some ways, Pearl resented this fact. Nobody could ever know her; not truly. Nobody could never know her in her entirety. What would happen if they knew the new Australian Hermit wasn't from Australia at all, but from the moon, anyway? No, actually, she wasn't from the moon, she was the moon. She was just the actual, literal moon. That big 'ol floating rock in the sky? The one rapidly plummeting towards their planet on a path set to destruction? Yeah, that was her. Well, not exactly her, but her divine shell, which missed its' goddess after she had taken mortal form so much it was trying to reunite with her by colliding with Hermitcraft… Oopsie-daisy, yeah, my bad, sorry about the impending doom! On the slim chance they didn't immediately kick her off the server due to her very presence being a threat not only to everyone but the world itself's safety, what would they think of her, then? If the fact half of the Hermit's first instincts were to start cults around The Moon in response to its enlargement was any indication, something told her they wouldn't treat her like a regular Hermit anymore. They'd start treating her exactly like what she'd come here to get away from: a goddess. She wouldn't be Pearl anymore. She wouldn't have friends anymore. Just followers. She hated that sometimes she considered it. Oh, how easy it would be, to tell Mumbo she was the Great Lunar Neighbour he loved so much. That she was who he'd been unknowingly worshipping this entire time; she was his goddess. Her feelings for him would be reciprocated in a heartbeat. He'd love her in the same way she loved him; endlessly and entirely. …But he wouldn't. Not really. He wouldn't love her. He'd love the idealized idea of her he thought she was, this version of her he'd made up in his head. And even saying he'd love her would be a stretch… no, he wouldn't love her. He'd revere her, worship her, exalt her… but not love. Not in the ways mortals loved each other. He wouldn't love her for who she was, but for what she was. And, so, she wouldn't tell him. Because as long as he didn't know, there was still a chance he could love her; the actual her. She just had to be patient. Though it was times like this her patience really ran thin.

"I don't understand," Mumbo sobbed; the sound was hoarse, gravelly and guttural. He hadn't slept in… nobody knew how long, and the hysteric delirium of sleep-deprivation seemed to finally be catching up with him. "I — I did… I did everything right! I'm doing everything right, I don't — I don't understand what I did wrong. What am I doing wrong?" He cried. "Shh, shh… you're not doing anything wrong, Mumbs. You didn't do anything wrong. You're perfect. You've done everything perfect," Pearl consoled him, running her fingertips' through his hair in an assuaging manner, trying to coax him to calmness in the same way somebody might try to coax a crying infant back to sleep in the late hours of the night… which, was what she was doing, really, in a sense. His locks were unkempt, disheveled and sloven, bedraggled despite the fact he hadn't touched a bed for weeks. But even in his grotty state, to her, he was still gorgeous. He was still perfect. "Then why is she still mad? I — I made her a temple, I made her altars, I built her shrines, and — and — and — I even convinced Boatem to give up their beds! I even —  I don't understand… I thought — I thought that would fix it… I thought that would make her happy, but she's still — is it not enough? Am I not doing enough..?" Mumbo sniffled as he looked at her with hollow, sunken eyes, a strange mixture of devotion and desperation on his face. His eyebags were so heavy they weighed down his cheeks' like an anchor, an anvil. "Can't she tell I love her? I — I just want to make her happy. I just want her to know — I — I just… I just want her to know how much I love her." Pearl's heart ached. I know. "She knows," she whispered, trying to keep her voice from hitching, trying to control her pitch. "She knows you love her. She… she loves you too. So, so much." I love you too. I love you so, so much. "No," Mumbo shook his head with a strangled snuffle, dismissing her words as nothing but empty consolations. He didn't know how true they really were, he didn't know they weren't just a friend's weak attempt to lift his spirits, but that they were a love confession from the very God he had devoted his entire being too. That she really did love him, too, more than he could possibly fathom. "If — if she loved me, she… she wouldn't still be upset. If she knew how much I loved her, she wouldn't be — she wouldn't still be causing earthquakes and stealing blocks, and — I just, I need — I need to try harder. I need to show her, I need her to know, I need her to see…" No, you just need to see. You just need to see it's me. I'm right here - why can't you see? I'm not mad. I was never mad. I could never be mad at you. I love you. Please, please, please… stop. I don't want this. I'd never want you to do this to yourself. But he never listened. He would never listen to Pearl; and the one voice he would listen to was one she couldn't admit was her own. It was infuriating… He loved her so, so much, too much, and yet he didn't love her at all. He could never love her while he still loved who she had been. Who had to be. He could never love her while his love for her was destroying him. It was killing him. And, so, it seemed there was only one solution. She had to make him hate her. She had to make him hate The Moon. She had to make him hate her as much as she hated herself. And with the fact he didn't already, despite the fact her old vessel had actively been spreading insanity amongst the Hermits, causing earthquakes and disasters, destroying the landscape? It would take some drastic measures. Lengths she didn't want to go to. But knew she had too. For his sake and her own.

When she'd abandoned her celestial form, she'd abandoned most of her deific abilities with it. Fortunately, not all of them. She had enough power in reserve to call upon a mite of her old body down to Earth; a meteor. Little more than an atom compared to her mass. But enough to serve as a teensy deposit of her powers she could tap into and exploit. Enough to influence those around around her with The Moon's voice. Enough to make it clear love wouldn't work. Enough to make it clear there was only one option.

"…'I must have them'? Who must she have? Who must she have? Is it us? Must she have me? Must she have Doc? Who? Who does she need…?"

"He who doth preach to us on the first day of the server… so doth shall be returned to dust first." "His name is Mumbo Jumbo."

His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo.

Make love, not war. But if love doesn't work… use war.

-- so. uh. you asked for a drabble. this is uh..... this is 1.8k words. i may have. i may have gotten a little carried away. approximately 18 times the requested length carried away. I'M SO SORRY. I AM....... SO SORRY. I GOT A LITTLE BIT ILL ABOUT THEM. I HOPE THIS IS OK LOL. ANYWAY. thinking about hc s8 mumbo and the moon's strange relationship......... what do you MEAN mumbo made a cult and a temple and a shrine completely dedicated to the moon? what do you MEAN the first thing the moon did when it gained control over ren and doc's minds was make them sacrifice mumbo jumbo specifically ? and then cub ALSO sacrificed [an imitation of] mumbo jumbo SPECIFICALLY to appease the moon ? the moon was JUST as insane about mumbo as mumbo was about the moon. mumpearl is real guys i don't know what to tell you they're obsessed with each other they're deranged yuri

[greenerteacups]

Have been actively resisting re-reading lionheart lately because my reading list is sooooo long and reading time is soooooo limited, so I was extremely excited to learn about M+G Readings! I’ve listened all yesterday evening while doing chores, and I keep finding myself going back to Hermione having to pretend Draco, Harry, and Ron are girls when discussing her friends with her family. I can’t help but wonder if she made up just really horrible feminine versions of their names to help keep her from slipping up??

On the same note, it has been so much fun to go back to book one just to see how much your babies have grown and matured! They were all such little shits (affectionately) except for our sweet harry, of course.

Hello! Yes! M+G's podfic is a superlative piece of fanwork and the talent involved is off the charts. As someone with zero experience in the field of audio mixing, the whole process reads like magic to me.

The elder Mrs. Granger (not to be confused with her daughter-in-law, Dr. Granger) is, of course, always delighted to hear about her granddaughter's various adventures with Harriet, Veronica, and Darcy.

[pa-pa-plasma]

you just made the scientific discovery of the century & you want to tell everyone & your kids are first on that list but you can't find them. you manage to get a hold of your daughter & she says everything is fine but her voice gets tight when you try to mention your work & she sucks in a breath & says she won't keep you from it any longer than she already has & doesn't say bye as she hangs up the phone. you have a sinking feeling in your gut & you really want to get back to what you were doing but. something's wrong. where are your kids. why was your daughter not surprised when you told her. why was she so quick to hang up on you. your husband has the same type of mind & that's probably why neither of you can ignore this odd turn of events & so you decide to track them down. the research can wait. after all, the spook got away somehow afterwards. it's not like you have anything to go through but data & recordings.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

I'm back on my bullshit thinking about the Hawke siblings again and how much I love a "both twins live" AU... but y'know what I love just a little bit more? An AU where all three Hawke siblings are alive, but one of the twins still get attacked by the ogre in Lothering and is presumed dead when they actually survived.

I like to think that since the narrative in DA2 is framed as a story Varric's telling Cassandra, we can play around with the fact that he's an unreliable narrator. Varric wasn't there in Lothering. He only knows what Hawke told him. It makes for a better story if Leandra, Hawke, and the surviving twin get to huddle around the dead twin and say their goodbyes... especially if they didn't actually get to do that. I mean, a lot of us already have that train of thought when it comes to Leandra's death and Hawke getting some closure through her final words telling them how proud she is. Whose to say Varric didn't do that for the lost twin, as well?

All that to ask what if the ogre attack happened, but the group was so overwhelmed by darkspawn they had to flee further and couldn't check the twin who "died?" Flemeth still showed up, but it was too late to go back and say goodbye.... so Hawke made a deal with the Witch of the Wilds and they all pushed forward to Kirkwall.

Imagine Bethany, left behind with broken bones and bleeding in the sand, fading in and out of consciousness as the remaining darkspawn surround her. She knows how to heal, how to fight back, but she's weakened. Her staff lays out of reach. Air shakes in her lungs. She tries to call for help, but only wheezes come out. Where's her mother? Her siblings? Did the ogre get them, too?

At this point, we all know what happens to the women darkspawn take, and Bethany could've met that fate; she doesn't have the strength to fight back as they drag her away. But before they can bring her underground, she's saved by another group of survivors. Perhaps they're more soldiers fleeing Ostagar, or townsfolk who recognize her from Lothering. They do what they can to treat her wounds but she needs a healer, so they bring her with them to seek refuge in Redcliffe... except they eventually realize she's an apostate. Well, she doesn't seem dangerous, but they still contact the templars.

Bethany wakes in a warm but unfamiliar bed with skilled healers tending to her. Templars hover by the doorway. First Enchanter Irving greets her, gentle in explaining she's safe inside of Kinloch Hold and that she's going to survive. When Bethany asks about her family, he gives her a sympathetic smile and says they only found her.

Bethany, who never took to embracing her magic the way her older sibling did and always felt like it burdened her family... has lost that very family. Could they survive the ogre and darkspawn? Or did the ogre tear them apart, too? How did she survive... but not them? Did the Maker really have such a sense of humor? How else would she end up in the Circle, a place her family went to great lengths to keep her safe from?

She doesn't want to think about it. She hopes they made it to Kirkwall, but the prickle of dread that crawls up her spine knows how unlikely it is. Bethany finds comfort in speaking with the mages who rotate in to heal and bring her food. Some feel trapped by their magic just as she does, but others remind her of her older sibling in the way they embrace their magic, a gift from the Maker. The younger apprentices who aid the mages ask her questions about what lies beyond the walls. The templars mostly keep their distance, but one is friendlier than others. A man with curly blonde hair and a sympathetic view of the mages bothers to speak to her more than his fellows do.

She's still in recovery when Uldred and his blood mages attack the tower, but she survives. Bethany heals, even as she's haunted by nightmares of the ogre wrapping its tainted hand around her body to crush her, flinging her aside to lay among the limp bodies of her family... haunted by the horrors the blood mages unleashed on the tower. She aids in restoring the tower the best she can, and accepts her new home, her new life. When she's well enough, she lights a candle for each of them; her father, mother, her eldest sibling, her twin... she even lights a candle for the family mabari, and prays to the Maker to give them her love as they stand at His side.

The Blight ends. Years pass. Bethany settles into her new life, becoming a fine example for the younger apprentices she mentors. She witnesses wrong doings against her fellow mages, loses friends to their harrowings or tranquility. She accepts what she is, even if bitterly. The Chantry's teachings about magic scar more than enlighten; she sees it in some of her fellow mages, feels it in herself. Secret meetings. Whispers of escape, of freedom. More escape attempts. Harsher restrictions.

Around this time, back in Kirkwall, Knight-Captain Cullen stands where he always does in the Gallows courtyard. He notices Hawke appear with some of their companions. It hurts to think back to Kinloch Hold, but something occurs to him: he knew of another Hawke who was brought to the Circle while he served there. They only spoke once before... well, before. He wonders if there's any relation. When Hawke wanders over to speak to him, as they always do, Cullen brings it up.

Hawke pales. A beat of silence. Cullen recognizes heartbreak; he sees it unfold in their eyes and swell in their throat as they realize that all this time, their baby sister was alive.

Then the day comes where new whispers float among the mages in the Circle. A visit by a Grey Warden. Most, including Bethany, assume he's here to recruit... until Irving comes to her. He says this warden's requested, though more like insisted, he see her now. But then Irving smiles; the warden in question said his name is Warden Carver. He received an urgent letter that his sister is here, alive, and he demands to know if that's true.

Bethany nearly collapses when she sees him.

While the reunion can't last; she can't leave the Circle and he has his calling; the twins embrace, sobbing out apologies and exclamations that they thought the other was gone. Carver tells her of Kirkwall, the expedition that led him to the Grey Wardens, and their older sibling's status as Champion. With a gentleness she never knew her brother to have, he tells her what happened to their mother, and more tears flow freely. Their sibling learned about her from a templar, though Carver grumbles that the bastard could've said something sooner.

There's the Maker's humor again.

...Now flip the script: imagine Carver being left behind instead.

For as strong and passionate as he is, that ogre still picks him up and slams him to the ground. Bones crack. Black splotches flood his vision, agony exploding across his skin. His sword flies from his hand. The soulless bastard tosses Carver aside like he's nothing, and he's left to lay there. His mother's cries muffle in his ear as though he's stuck underwater, sinking slowly into the dark.

It figured, honestly... that he'd survive Ostagar while his fellow soldiers were cut down all around him, that he and his eldest sibling would flee the field when all hope was lost... that he'd make it home to get his family out of Lothering... only to die protecting his mother. And why not? He is a protector. A warrior. It's a honor to die saving those he loved... so why didn't it give him peace?

Carver eventually wakes in the night among the bodies of fallen darkspawn. Everything aches painfully hot and his thoughts reject coherency. He knows his family is gone; they're dead, or they've fled... either way, he's alone; left behind. Something's broken inside of him, but he has just enough will to pull himself up at the sound of approaching footsteps. A group of survivors find him- funny enough, the same group who aided Bethany in an alternate timeline. Imagine that.

That's how Carver ended up in Redcliffe's Chantry with an overworked healer tending to him. He doesn't even flinch when the mage works their magic on him, knowing all too well the sensation of healing magic seeping into his skin, mending the flesh. He tries not to think of Bethany, or what might've happened to her.

The Chantry's overwhelmed with townspeople hiding from a danger outside that he can only assume is darkspawn... except it's not. He wonders how hard he hit his head when he hears the undead have come from the castle to slaughter what they can of the town every night. But then he sees it with his own eyes when one breaks in, taken down by a templar, and never before has he ever felt so useless.

Then the last two remaining Grey Wardens arrive. They're crucial in the final fight against the undead, swearing to enter the castle to stop the attacks at the source. While Carver couldn't participate in the final fight, something he complained loudly about, he did what he could in his condition to help like sharpening swords and handing out supplies. Mostly to keep his sanity and quite his thoughts throughout his recovery.

When the time came, he took up his sword again in the name of all those he lost.

An archdemon was said to be on the horizon, and the Grey Wardens needed everyone they could get to fight. Carver fights in the battle of Denerim where the Hero of Fereldan defeated the archdemon. He cuts his way through every darkspawn he sees. Ostagar flashes red behind his eyes. Lothering clutches at his heart. So much anger and sorrow built up inside him, flooding out in his tears and screams. Blood everywhere. Fire and smoke.

Then it's over.

In the aftermath of the Blight, like so many others, Carver has no home to return to. No family. He thinks to go back to Lothering to help rebuild, only to hear the lands were too tainted. These tainted creatures took everything from him... That's what eventually brings him to Vigil's Keep, standing before the Hero of Fereldan themself, asking to be made a Grey Warden. He already dedicated nearly two years of his life to killing darkspawn, and he had nothing else. Even when faced with the Joining, holding the chalice of darkspawn blood and being told to drink, he didn't flinch.

Life as a Grey Warden isn't as simple as he assumed it would be, but Carver finds purpose in his calling. Over the years, he grows to view his fellow wardens as family. He travels all over Thedas, venturing down into the Deep Roads to help clear out hoards of the darkspawn. But then comes the day he finds himself in Kirkwall, and it doesn't take long before he hears the name Hawke on the lips of the townspeople. His eldest sibling was not only alive, but they're quite popular among the people. But what about Mother? Bethany? He doesn't have to snoop too far to learn templars took Bethany away to the Gallows, and that Leandra Hawke was the final victim in a string of murders committed by a blood mage.

Carver finds himself standing outside the estate, glaring at the door. Furious. Heartbroken. Bitter. He wants to scream. This entire time, they lived. He's torn between wanting to reunite with his older sibling again, to get the truth from them, and wanting to barge into the estate, demanding answers to how they could let the Circle take Bethany... after what Carver sacrificed, how could they let Mother die like that? Was it all pointless in the end?

He leaves without knocking. He can't bring himself to see them. Not that it mattered. Before he could leave Kirkwall, the tensions with the qunari finally overflowed, and chaos fell upon the city. He's forced face to face with his older sibling again, but he wasn't prepared to watch the recognition slowly bloom on their face, or for all his anger to turn to mush. Carver's the first to speak.

"Somehow, I knew it would be you."

.............So, yeah. I really like this idea.

[introspectivememories]

walki with me... tommy kinard calling buck "baby"..... tommy kinard kissing buck..... tommy kinard gently holding buck's waist.... tommy kinard making buck laugh.... tommy kinard listening to buck ramble with stars in his eyes.... tommy kinard peppering kisses all over buck's face as buck blushes..... tommy kinard letting buck set the pace for their relationship..... tommy kinard calling buck "evan".... buck learning to love his own name because how can he not when tommy says it so gently..... buck sitting in tommy kinard's lap..... buck getting hurt on a call and tommy is there right away taking care of him.... buck waking up in the morning with his head pillowed on tommy kinard's chest as the sunlight streams in through the window and casts tommy in a sort of halo and his breath catches and buck is so happy he made it through his twenties and the tsunami and truck falling on him and the embolism and the lightning strike and any of other myriad of ways the universe has had it out for him because he gets to wake up to tommy motherfucking kinard in his bed as the sunlight gently cradles them in her embrace

("baby," tommy says, eyes still closed, less than two seconds later, hand brushing along buck's spine to card his fingers through buck's hair, "you're thinking too loud. go back to sleep."

buck honest to god flushes at the endearment. because that's what he is, tommy's baby. he's tommy's baby. jesus fucking christ, he feels like combusting. burying his head in his boyfriend's (boyfriend!!!) chest, buck tries not to whine.

"don't wanna," he whispers, peeking up at tommy, "wanna look at you."

tommy's other arm comes up to settle along his waist and buck wants to, fuckin', purr or whatever with how right it feels. tommy cracks open his eyelids to peer down at him.

"evan," his boyfriend (boyfriend!!!) says fondly.

and that's another thing he never knew about himself until he started dating tommy. he loves his name. not his nickname or his last name or buckaroo or any variant of that but his first name. he fuckin' loves the name "evan" or maybe he just likes the way tommy says it. and tommy has so many ways he says buck's name.

there's a soft, whispered "evan" in the mornings, and fond "evan" in the afternoons. there's an "evan" that tommy says like he's holding 3 tons of solid gold in his hands. there's an "evan" that he can barely get out through his laughs when buck bursts out with a fun fact at a wrong time. there's a choked-off, bitten, "ev-" when they're in bed at night and tommy can't believe buck is under him, gorgeous and panting. and there's the panicked "EVAN!" on a call gone wrong and there's an angry "evan" when buck doesn't take care of himself and there's a worried, two-syllable "ev-an" when he comes home with more bruises than he left with and there's-,

well the point is that there's a lot of different "evan"s that tommy says these day. he's going to catalogue them all one day. like his very own personal auditory archive. something to pull out on his off days.

"evan," tommy says fondly, "i'm not goin' anywhere sweetheart. i'll be here when you wake up. so go back to sleep, i'll be right where you left me."

and well-, buck forgets sometimes that this is a two-way street. that he may be tommy's baby but tommy's his boyfriend too. that tommy's practically required by law to be here when he wakes up. (oh by law?, he can almost hear his boyfriend snark. buck's bites the inside if his cheek to stop himself from giggling.) and more than some vague, ephemeral, Boyfriend Laws™️, tommy wants to be here when he wakes up. this is something tommy is actively choosing to do.

so when tommy says, "go back to sleep sweetheart" and "i'm not going anywhere, evan", well, who is buck to question that? he burrows deeper into the warm cocoon tommy has made, and let's his boyfriend's heartbeat lull him back to sleep.)

[beanghostprincess]

I am a very easy person. You make Usopp or Sanji say the "I'll do what you can't" thing in a fic and I instantly start sobbing like a baby.

[vivitalks]

“Parker,” Eliot hisses at the ceiling vent, “what the fuck?" Aw, shit. “Aw, shit.” Hardison grimaces, rubbing his head. In the…excitement of the night, he completely forgot about Parker. “Parker, why are you in the ceiling?” There's a long pause. “I don't understand the question,” Parker says.

eliot/hardison/parker rights

[angeart]

upcoming hmtb chapters:

52. Bruised Souls and Shattered Hearts (How Do We Mend?) - 7631 words [recently posted]

53. Shifting Sand - 5837 words

54. Maroon Smoke (The Prelude To Fire) - 3139 words

55. A Boatem We - 7281 words [chapter title might change]

56. House Of Matches (Burning Down) I - 3816 words

57. House Of Matches (Burning Down) II - 4252 words so far [guys this one will be a long one once i'm done with it]

that's all still, uh. the sleepover arc. but chapter 57 should kind of wrap up the sleepover. although that doesn't mean the night will be over <3

there will be, er, things to deal with still, after all that. (a bit of an aftermath, you might say) (maybe even some more characters will show up!!) (which doesn't bode well given i don't have experience writing them and i don't do well with group scenes— bUT if i can pull it off, it'll be so yummy, i promise!)

come tell me your hopes, thoughts, or expectations! :3 (seriously. i'll be so happy.) of course questions are welcome too~

list requested by @swagpsishaja <3 thank you <3