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tarotofhope · 3 months ago

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PAC: ♡ Channelled Love Songs from your Current/Future Romantic Partner ♡

(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)

Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.

(You can find all the songs mentioned in the Piles on SPOTIFY. Unfortunately Tumblr only allows 10 audio links per post🥲)

Pile 1

Songs - Aaya Jado Da by Asees Kaur

Screen Time by Epik High ft. Hoshi

Don't Forget To Breathe by Aaryan Shah

Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. First of all, lot of green ink occured in your pile. Your partner seems very caring, nurturing and protective of you. They might be a very caring and loving person themselves, very protective of their belongings and loved ones. They like to have a quick check on you(like not in a toxic or negative way). They want to know you better and your little quirks. They genuinely care about your well being. They might be very cautious, structured, organised individual, a fitness freak as well. They seem kind of very picky, they don't open up to just anybody, they might have very few close friends. They're mostly not interested in flings and one-night stands. They take relationships seriously so they'll only jump into it when they see some real value in it. This person is like a 'husband/wife material' person or atleast a long term partner. This also seems like a long distance relationship to me or getting into a relationship after a series of personal hardships when you've become very mature either age-wise or experience-wise.

So, that's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1.

Hope you're with this person or find this person soon 😉

Hope, light, love and peace to you..🌸🌼🌻

Pile 2

Songs - Talk About Love by Callum Beattie

Seven- Clean Version by Jungkook

Tenu Khabar Nahi by Arijit Singh

Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. Have you guys currently been in separation or broken up with your partner? This could be a recent past energy as well. See, now this also looks like an ex's energy(I don't like to go into this topic because it creates unnecessary confusion but it appeared in the reading so I had to) and whether ex or not, if you strictly don't want this person back into your life, you must then very well know that you've ended up for good and you don't need to allow this person back or this pile totally isn't for you, you should select another pile. One thing is prominent though, one of you has done something bad to the another person..and that was the main reason for your guys' separation. I'm nobody to judge you guys, you know yourselves better. Well, whoever this person is, they want to reconcile with you or you're currently reconciling already. It could be a different case for everyone choosing this pile. It could be so that this person or both of you might still have feelings for each other. This person wants to make things better or do things right. There is a promise of not making the same mistakes again. This person is asking for another chance. Now, you need to decide for yourselves, what's good for you and what's not. It's totally up to you.

That's all I see in the cards for you, my dear Pile 2.

Hope, light, love and peace to you..🌸🌼🌻

Pile 3

Songs - Tera Mera Hai Pyar Amar by Ahmed Jahanzeb

I'm Gonna Love You by D.O. ft. Wonstein

Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley

Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. This person looks so in love. But more so, this person is very sure of you, there feelings are very intense, too. As they are saying, that it's so easy to fall in love with you, either it's a love at first sight situation or there is a certain clarity about choosing you/about wanting to continue further with you. Nothing can change their mind about you. They are giving me strong future spouse energy because they just want to take you away as soon as possible. So, they'll be very assertive in their approach towards you in the courtship period itself. I also think that they'll be the first one to approach you if you've not met this person already. They'll make sure that you know they are not just fooling around, that you're in for a very long ride. They'll also want to make sure that you too, feel the same way for them before going very far because they want it all or nothing. They'll definitely try to win your heart over, Pile 3.

That's all I got for you, dear Pile 3.

Hope, light, love and peace to you..🌼🌸🌻

Pile 4

Songs - Young And Beautiful by Lana Del Rey

Every Second by Baekhyun from EXO (Record of

Youth OST- 3)

Aadat Se Majboor by Benny Dayal

Welcome to your reading, Pile 4. This person might be a heart-throb. Popular person energy(for their work or looks). Everybody swoons over them. Their energy is quite charming and charismatic. They are bold, fun loving and outgoing, life of the party kind of person. You both might be quite the opposite of each other. They will be very confident in their approach. They might just be nervous about how to woo you because you are different from others and they don't want to make any mistake. They don't want to look like a creep. If you've already met this person or in a relationship, you know. They are someone who'll totally make a fool out of themselves to make you laugh. They love to see you smile and laugh but also, you don't laugh a lot, it seems. There seems to be a lot of people who are sexually attracted to them, but they choose you because you are special to them, you're not like the others according to them. They might've got their heart broken a couple times earlier due to which they're afraid of losing you but that's not going to be the case because they're sure of one thing that you're very firm in your decisions, rock solid and you won't run away when life gets bad. You guys are going to be like a power couple, each helping the other person where they are lacking, each completing the other.

So, that's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4.

Hope, light, love and peace to you..🌻🌼🌸

Pile 5

Songs - Lover by Taylor Swift

Spider By Hoshi

Tere Mast Mast Do Nain by Rahat Fateh Ali Khan

Welcome to your reading, Pile 5. Your person seems very Venusian(very lovey-dovey, full of charm, likes fine art) and Neptunian(very dreamy) to me, a hopeless romantic even. Some of you might also be attracted to Pile 4, because this pile has got some similar vibes. They are magnetic, could also be popular for something that they do, something that only they create. They have a good taste in music as well, could be a musician or they like to play musical instruments. Dancing and singing could be their hobby or talent. They are also someone who knows flirting like the back of their hand. It comes naturally to them, sometimes they don't even know that they're flirting. They might also like good food and fine-dining, might also love to cook. You might not like this person in the beginning because you think they're a flirt and they don't look serious, but you'll eventually start liking them because they're not what they seem from the outside. It is giving me the vibes of 'One fell in love first, but the other one fell harder.' Their heart is so pure and innocent. They'll woo you with their heart, Pile 5. You seem like a tough nut to crack to them, someone who's hard to get. I also think you've got pretty eyes and a resting b**** face. They love it. There's going to be a playful banter between you guys. Everything will be worth it in the end.

So, that's all I've got for you, my dear Pile 5.

Hope, light, love and peace to you..🌻🌼🌸

Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.

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#astrology #divination #spiritualgrowth #tarot pick a card #pick a card #tarot pac #pick a pile #daily tarot #Spotify

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antebunny · 3 months ago

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go away

After Bruce Wayne dies, it only takes Tim about three weeks to show up on Dick Grayson’s doorstep with a 3-ring binder full of evidence. He runs a finger along the top metal ring of the binder over and over as he waits for a response to the doorbell. All at once he feels thirteen years old again, clutching months of painstakingly collected notes written up neatly and sorted into sections. Dick never read any of it, yet Tim did it all again. Had his photos developed for ease of viewing access, included sources for all of his claims, stuck to his main points for clarity’s sake but has pages and pages of extra information in the back of the binder for when–if–Dick decides to give his idea a thorough look.

But Tim is seventeen years old now, old enough to know where he went wrong the first time. Yesterday he spent hours coming up with argument after argument, approach after approach, to get through to Dick. Mr. Grayson, I’m so sorry for your loss. He’s probably tired of hearing that. Mr. Grayson, I have something I think you’ll want to see. Too quick to the point. If he doesn’t recognize Tim, maybe he’ll try Mr. Grayson, I know about your night life and I want to help. If he does, then maybe Mr. Grayson, I want to say I’m sorry about last time, but this isn’t like last time, I swear–

The door opens. Tim knows that it’s Dick by the smell. Sweat, unwashed clothes, and misery. How like last time. Dick looks like the epitome of grief, which is to say, not like himself. Dick Grayson is a creature of happiness by nature, of high-flying freedom, of beloved family and friends, a picture-perfect cover boy, always adored, always with a beautiful redhead, Batgirl or Starfire or Arsenal, yes Tim knows his type, always kind, always charming, always happy to be there. But Tim only ever seems to know him in these liminal states of horrible tragedy.

Worst of all, Tim can’t quite tell if Dick recognizes him.

“Mr. Grayson,” he begins, heart pounding so loudly he cannot hear himself speak, “I don’t think Mr. Wayne is dead.”

For a moment longer than Tim’s entire lifespan, Dick just stares at him. Blue eyes hazy and unfocused. One hand on the doorframe, one hand dragging through the stubble growing on his half-shaved jaw. He’s wearing an AC/DC shirt. Given Dick’s fashion tastes (bright colors) and Bruce Wayne’s music tastes, neither of which Tim should know, he is 98% certain that the AC/DC shirt used to belong to Bruce Wayne.

When Dick finally speaks, his voice sounds like the death of all joy.

“How many family members do I have to lose before you let me grieve in peace?”

Tim’s pounding heartbeat becomes a deafening white noise as Dick’s question pangs around his chest. His eyes sting so fiercly that Tim knows it is as visible as Dick’s misery. Nevertheless, he persists, if only for Bruce Wayne. No one else will save him if not for Tim. So even though his hero thinks Tim is a creepy little stalker with the unbelievable audacity to swagger into Dick’s life and tell him how to fix it, well. He’s not wrong, is he? What does it matter if Tim once upon a time dreamed of more? Saving Bruce Wayne is far more important than Tim’s nonexistent chances of becoming friends with Nightwing.

“Jason came back.” Tim’s chin, lifted stubbornly, trembles.

Dick’s face clouds over with a rage so terrible that Tim sincerely believes he’s about to get punched by Nightwing. Which wouldn’t be so bad. Tim deserves it, doesn’t he? Intruding on a stranger’s grief like this is probably a punchable offense. He’ll bear it all if only Dick listens, but it looks like he managed to blow it in the span of two sentences.

In the end, though Dick’s hands curl into fists and his shoulders shake like traintracks, he turns his head at the last second and rests his forehead on the doorframe. Tears streak down his perfect jawline. Watching Dick Grayson cry is like watching Atlantis sink. It’s like watching the Mona Lisa go up in flames. Tim knows stuff like this is why Dick treats him like a celebrity-obsessed stalker living in a weird fantasy world where he’s a part of the Wayne family. He knows it’s why Dick hates him. Tim still can’t help that it’s captivating to watch.

“Go away,” Dick begs.

Tim has never felt more like the scum of the earth, yet still he’d persist if he thought there was a chance of getting Nightwing to listen to him. But there isn’t. So Tim, as lonely, rejected, unworthy and fucking correct as he is, sees himself out of the apartment building.

Two weeks later, he catches a flight to Lahore.

#tim drake #dick grayson #nightwing #robin #batman #batfam #antebunny's ficlets #drabble #ficlet #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing

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just-a-ghost00 · 1 month ago

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The way you make me feel ~

Images found on Pinterest. Deck used : golden thread tarot. Reading written from their POV.

Group 1

Hermit, Temperance, Queen of pentacles, The Magician, knight of pentacles, ace of pentacles

You make me feel safe. Cared for. Loved in ways I never thought were possible. Nurtured. Understood. Appreciated, not only because of my work or my wealth but solely for who I am as a person. You make me feel strong. Like the world is at the tip of my fingers and all I got to do is to reach further to make my wildest dreams come true. You make me feel strong. Determined. Wise. With you, everything seems so simple. So bright and warm. You make me feel like time has stopped and it's just the two of us. I feel like I am in a bubble. A cozy cocoon that was made just for me. I feel like I belong somewhere. Like finally, after so many trials and errors, I get to be rewarded. I feel so blessed to have you in my life. I still wonder how all of this is possible. You make me want to believe in magic again. I feel like I'm walking on a line, perfectly balanced and at peace with myself, reassured by the thought that whatever I decide to do, whichever way I decide to go, you'll be there to catch me if I fall. Like you'll always follow me and never leave my side. I feel so happy I could cry. You make me feel like everything is possible and nothing can stop me from my success. I feel invicible with you by my side. You make me want to believe in myself and move forward with my head held high, slowly but surely, at my own pace, on my own terms. With you I feel secure, confident in my ability to create a life I can be proud of, to embody a person that people can look up to with respect in their eyes. You make me feel grand, so much bigger than I am. You bring so much in my life that I don't know how I could ever thank you. In your presence, I feel like I am given a second chance at life. Like my time has come and I can be born again.

Group 2

10 of swords, 4 of wands, Temperance, 9 of pentacles, Hanged man, ace of wands

You make me feel puzzled. I don't know if I should be mad at you or adore you. You get on my nerves and yet you make me so proud. With you I feel like I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. I don't feel as lonely as I used to be. I feel like I can hope for a better future than what I've been handed so far. I feel like I can overcome my fears and face any obstacle coming my way. Like I am worthy of love and interest. I feel alive again. I feel hopeful about the future and inspired to move forward. My creativity has rocketed. I feel triggered. Like everything I thought I knew is complete BS and that honestly shakes me and upsets me in a way. I feel like I have to start all over again, like my work wasn't enough and as good as I thought it was. You make me feel like focusing on myself and taking care of my own goals isn't as bad as it sounds. That I too am capable of creating a reality I can be proud of. Like my unique perception of life and lonely nature can actually be an asset and a driving force. You give me the courage to face my demons and be a better person. You make me feel like I can tip the scales in my favor and change the course of action. Like life isn't as harsh and bad as I thought it was. Like I can be whole again and enjoy the pleasures this world has to offer. You make me feel bold and curious again. You make me want to celebrate and have fun, to shift my perspective and learn. You challenge me. And as much as that confuses me that also sets me free. I'm not sure why or how you do this but I thank you for the clarity you bring into my life.

Group 3

Empress, 8 of pentacles, 8 of cups, High Priestess, 9 of pentacles, 10 of swords

You make me feel whole. Worthy of love and attention. Beautiful. Valuable. You make me feel powerful and important. Like all the worries in the world are nothing for I am stronger than this. With you I feel like there will never be a day where I feel sad again. Like I can tackle anything and turn dust into gold. You make me feel fearless. With you, the dark and sorrow don't sound as scary as they once were. You make me feel like my despair is over. Like my prayers have finally been answered. But I also feel scared. Scared that my depth and darkness will have a repelling effect on you. I fear that the more I grow, the more chances I have of losing you. You make me feel attractive. You make me want to love myself more and work harder to be a version of myself I will adore. You make me feel human. For the first time in my life I feel like I don't have to apologize for who I am. You make me feel understood, seen and appreciated. With you I feel protected. I feel like sadness can no longer hold me down. You make me want to reach higher heights and set higher goals, to prove everyone how wrong they were of underestimating me. You make me want to fight. You make me feel like I can own the world. Like I can finally stand in my power and embrace the entirety of my being without shame nor fear. You make me feel brand new, like I am reborn, like I have everything to gain and nothing to lose. You make me want to go beyond my limits and transform my being, to heal my wounds and move on once and for all from my past. I can't find the words to describe how much this means to me.

#just-a-ghost #pick a card #pac reading #tarot reading #relationship pac #music inspired pac

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gazeofseer · 18 days ago

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🩵 Wⁱⁿᵗᵉʳ Sᵒˡᵃᶜᵉ ❄️

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

'Life has been quite weary, and I had so much to share the shed of my spirit, but not has a flush of storm but more like a divine solstice trance between the seasons, the sun during winter warm yet deeply cold and engaging with from my bones, wish someone heard me, rather than saying anything to me, if not all these things what can I feel is a lie? Or Life itself?'

°°°°♡°°°°°°°♡°°°°°°°°°♡°°°°°°°°♡°°°°°°°°°°°°

Pick a Pile of guidance for your soul (;

°°°°♡°°°°°°°♡°°°°°°°°°♡°°°°°°°°♡°°°°°°°°°°°°

Image.1

'Confusion is the only clarity, I have right now all the people around me feels perfectly fine and fit to whatever they get and give, while I am still at a thought why would somebody do that to me? What did I lack exactly to be ostracized by the living society? Why can't have emotions, why, and exactly why..?

The rage seems quite resilience but that does not mean you are not burning within, like the depth of the blue flames underneath the ocean you exist in this world with your utmost compassion, when one fails as a human they fail to be anything further, but who defined that part? Too many questions is juggling all the answers you have received so far but deep down you know what is yours and what is not.

Still letting go all at a pace seems like a game of pull and push where you may fumble off everything from your hands.

But isn't that beautiful to realise what you were holding was an mere idea and not an entire reality to that?

Be it people, be it a thing, its limitation is end to what they can reap here with you on this surface so let things be, is how you let go, let happiness be happy, let sorrow sorrow itself, sink with this reality where truth prevails, even beyond the thickest curtains that has been shed and covered.

Winter Season Guidance & Blessings );

- Aquarius, Gemini and Saggitarus in big three you may feel all your life so far has been somewhat gloomy or questionable of which you have no answer to this following season you will have a major breakdown which will begin. Pilling up as small conflicts, chaos and confrontation throughout the November.

- One thing you have to do is break your ego, you have this subtle of it where you do not show off but keep it as a fake guard so merely people don't bother you but it has been blocked your sense of living entirely where every choice you make seems wrong and regretful and every other action becomes a repent.

- Blessings, that follow through is protection timely guidance on your journey as long you are on a receiving edge then on a push away where you will suddenly realise even if you feel horrible within yourself people are there who are kind, loving and will reflect exactly what you are meant to feel within.

Signs : You are on your own kid by Taylor Swift, ring lover, six fingers, mole on feet or behind neck. Ground, Shed and drive through the chaos towards peace.

Image.2

'Enduring life as if it's a badge that I have to carry and show so that don't bring the worst at my table so never left the idea of being the best in the room even if I was clumsy I slammed disciplines out of passive aggression which failed my scores to repeat the same mistakes, again and again nobody is a problem but I am, at least that's how I feel.. because I don't care about what others think..but do they even think that I exist too? That never being the one or the last hurts like the middle child who neither belongs to dad or not to the mother? Like a lost and found thought I carry myself like a baggage full of grief barely smiling at lies anymore choosing to cry over the truth as better as I feel'

You have a special message from your soul ancestors, who could be you or from your tribe ;

- It's not your first time here you have 8 as prominent number and Saturn's 8 influence you may be attracted towards infinity sign if not all these you find these strange connection with things but that may not resonate like you have not much with moon but there is something keeps your drawn towards it.

- Your ancestors by soul are people who are waiting for you as an reward after you complete certain set of karmic cycles and journey throughout the age of 23 to 25 of you have passed then these are the years, you may even heard death or something illness or fatigue around you.

- The place you work/study at seems toxic enough to bloat or drain your energy you are being asked to wear some solid protection crystal or evil eye or carry some iron nails or tie a black knot thread on neck or wrist.

- They are here to assure your present self that you may feel what's the point of living tomorrow if all I have to do is die today, what if I not only survive the bests within me and reach my success as somebody in a worst state keeps you worried but take this as a release then stroke attested nothing is final unless you decide it is.

Signs : Mess it up by Gracie Abrams, Capricorn, Venus earth sign, saturn rings, introvert, queer, cynical and thinking throughout the sleep.

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'Wish, world was a kind place so that violence would have not been the way to attain, chaos would have not reaped peace, and sorrows would have not be awarded with the happiness, the constant sell and buy has consumed my heart enough to think where did I wet less by to be who am I ? What if I love myself? And still not chosen to give? Would I be mean judged and hated for? Can't I choose myself for one fucking time? Oh that foulness in my soul speaks so does this make me impure? Why can't I just live

Your soulmate has a say (;

- You had quite relations based on intent of compassion and comfort so whenever there was change it went a bit into the hands of confusion, enclosures and uncomfortable for you where you stood for the sick unless you become one and they all left one by one.

- You kept losing people because they were your soulmates reflecting you on different level even if they were opposite on the surface.

- You attract elderly people, be it a woman, men you have this demure and mature gaze that pulls people with intellect finding you adorable but it turns them off when you get pissed off and a cute mess which can't be controlled.

- Your soulmate assures you to carry on this journey you are on the right path, growing greys recently in your hair? Something about white, off whites and lighter greys are sign also the cardigan.

- Stop, finding a end to your love let it expand with you wherever you go, is how you will meet me.

Signs : Daydreaming, Lucky Girl, Pearls, Water Signs, Air signs, Stars, Night Lovers, His name starts from E, W, A and S. He is a random person who will enter by or during Christmas by this or next year's, avoid any red or yellow color his favourite colour is white.

Hope this reading reached the parts it was meant to !! ❄️🩵

#wisdom #divination #divine guidance #happy winter #winter aesthetic #pick a pile #pick a card

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argisthebulwark · 10 months ago

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Cleanse Me With Pleasure

summary: second chance! you've known them and lost them, but fate brings you back together. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used feat: Miraak, Hadvar, Vilkas warnings: very mild body horror (miraak has too many pupils), depiction of overstimulation (vilkas)

Miraak

He was your first love, the one meant to outlast all else. He became the one who shattered your heart. Your shared power as Dovahkiin should have brought you closer - your fates as the First and Last intrinsically twined together, though Miraak seemed intent on severing it. His refusal to share power turned to distrust, a fracture your relationship never recovered from.

He became obsessed. Blinded by his need to rule over Tamriel, you found yourself growing apart until you could hold onto him no longer. Miraak forgot all else when he became lost to his hunt for power, casting aside love and humanity as he lusted after forbidden knowledge. He forgot about you, his fellow Dragonborn. His beloved.

As the ages have passed, you now find yourself unfulfilled. You’ve seen much of the world in your time, taken fleeting lovers and leaving few traces. The dragon blood in your veins keeps you stationary while the world shifts around you, able to inflict little change upon the matters of men. Civilizations develop and empires crumble before your eyes as you search for the place you belong. No matter how much you love this world you still seek the place that feels like home.

After many years spent unsuccessfully settling into a small village you decide to leave Skyrim. At least for a short while. Too many eyes are on you after your influential part in the civil war. You need somewhere quiet. Hoping for the comfort of an old friend or a Telvanni tower your eyes turn to Solstheim. It’s been far too long since you’ve walked its shores, perhaps clarity awaits there.

Your wish for peace is unfulfilled as always. Rumors of locals wandering off into the ashen wastes reach your ears in every tavern. Just one night, you promise yourself when you fall into a cheap rented bed. Just one night of rest and I will investigate in the morning.

A voice you’d forgotten ages ago invades your dreams. His mantra shocks you to your core - he was behind those horrid stones? Scrambling for your pack you set off into the night fueled by anger, old and long forgotten. You don’t care how powerful he’s become in your time apart - it matters little if he’s finally ascended to godhood, you’re going to give him an earful.

Sharp spikes and dark towers loom over the horizon - his palace. The elegant arches are beginning to crumble with no sign of repair. Perhaps all of his loyal subjects are too busy tending to those awful stones, minds stolen away by Mora’s influence. Stomping through his castle you’re horrified by the years of dust and grime accumulating on every surface. Much like yourself, it seems that this palace has spent ages stuck in a time the world has forgotten.

Upon a spiraling staircase, the railing is surprisingly clean. Tracks of fingers trail through the dust and a shiver runs down your spine. Weak light flickers from above and you steady yourself for whoever lurks in this ancient place. It may be a sign of life but you cannot decipher whether that is a good thing.

You should have known. The only visible light emanates from the heart of Miraak’s palace - his library. Tomes written in dead languages give way to the common tongue, each shelf meticulously cleaned. Your footsteps are careful, though you can do little to calm the erratic racing of your heart as you wind through his maze.

A dark cloak is draped over hunched shoulders. His quill scrapes over the parchment without pause. Blazing light from the fireplace illuminates his silhouette and for a moment it’s far too easy to forget about how everything ended - the fighting, the screaming, and that uncrossable distance that grew between you. When Miraak’s head tilts you catch sight of stubble across his jaw, the once black hair now peppered with gray and white. There is the sharp angle of his nose and lips that had once spilled nothing but admissions of love. For one moment he is the man your heart still screams for.

“You must be brave if you dare to enter.” His deep voice rumbles through the library and you’re shocked back to reality. Deep green eyes sweep toward you, pinning you in place as too many pupils assess your interruption. “Remove your hood and state your business.”

“What have you done?” Miraak’s fingers clutch the edge of his desk, revealing sickly black veins creeping under pale skin. His eyes narrow and in a dramatic flourish he stalks toward you. Old rage builds with each step that draws him closer; that sneer on his face, the condescension in his tone, the terrible way that power has warped him.

“How dare you speak to me like this?” He seethes, teeth practically bared when he glares you down. Standing only inches away you can feel it, the terribly oily power infecting the rest of Solstheim. It is like nothing you can recall dealing with. Attempting to move swiftly you remove your hood, brandishing a reliable dagger between your bodies to hold him off.

Something you cannot read shifts in his eyes. He blinks too many times before one hand reaches past your weapon. You consider slicing into his arm, calculating how likely it is that Miraak could cast some horrible spell upon you when cool skin cups your cheek.

“Darling.” Your heart squeezes when Miraak draws you closer, completely ignoring the blade pressed to his chest. “My love, where have you been?”

“I left.” Your voice is harsh, cutting through the strange softness of his tone. You cling to the rage that fueled you to find him, grasping for something to keep you upright when his thumbs trace so lovingly across your cheeks.

“I have searched this world for you.”

“What?” You sputter, taking a step back. Your heart slams into your ribs when he looks at you, such adoration in eyes you have not seen in centuries. “You let me go. You forgot me.”

“I was wrong.” Bravely, he attempts to move closer. “I cannot do this without you - I do not work without you, my love.”

“I do not wish to rule.” Your voice quivers and you steady the dagger. Miraak makes no move away from you, still carefully holding your face. “I have never wished to rule.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I have told you.” You insist, obnoxious tears pricking at your eyes. It’s terribly hard to remain angry when he’s so close. “You never listen.”

“Tell me once more.” Miraak gulps, unnatural eyes never moving from yours. “Please, just once more.”

“I want,” your voice falters as you consider your options. Rationally, you should drive the dagger into his chest and free the world from his influence. You should kill Miraak while he is distracted. You should end him before he does further damage to this world.

But you cannot. Sweaty fingers clench around the blade but your muscles have turned to stone. He may be different, hell he may be awful, but you cannot bring yourself to kill him. He is still Miraak. Your blade stills over his heart, the only one that has called out to yours. Despite the inky black stains these are his hands, the ones you’ve imagined each time you’ve taken a lover.

“I want you.” Fat tears coat your cheeks when you relent, speaking the words that have been a thorn in your side for too many years. Old desires wash away the anger, each night spent missing him fresh and new in your memory. You remember speaking the same words during your last argument with him, one final plea for him. “I want to find somewhere quiet and grow old with you.”

“I am sorry that it has taken me so many years to agree. I am yours, entirely, if you will have me.” Miraak’s nose brushes yours and through your bleary vision, you see him. His vision is no longer clouded with obsession, eyes focused entirely on you. Something wrenches deep in your chest and time seems to grind to a halt.

It is all you’ve ever wanted from him. There is fear in Miraak’s eyes while he awaits your response though he makes no offensive moves - he’s left himself open if you decide to strike. There is no defense, no shield to hold you off. Miraak has made himself vulnerable to you.

Joy and grief and all other emotions swirl together as your blade clatters to the ground. Desperate hands dig into the back of your cloak and you feel his sigh of relief against your chest, unheard promises whispered into your skin.

Hadvar

Training. Guard rotations. Research assignments. Reconnaissance. Palace guard duty. Shift changes. Too many responsibilities and not enough time, yet for so long you managed to cling together. There was never time for anything more than falling into bed together, a shared cot and the comfort of one another.

Schedules shifted every few weeks, never amounting to much more than a change in when you're afforded time to sleep. Without bothering to open the envelope for your new assignment you’d hobbled back toward the barracks, muscles aching from a day stuck near the city gate.

A sharp bark of your name stopped you short. A harsh explanation that you were heading off to some newly established camp in the Rift. No time to change or grab your supplies, they’ll have clothes waiting for you at the new camp. Your heart was in your throat when your commanding officer bundled you into the back of some carriage and sent you to another Hold without a chance to tell Hadvar.

In the shuffle of everything, you lost each other. No letters could be sent as you had no idea where he’d been stationed or who his superior became after the new assignments. Though your nights were lonely, over time you accepted that he’d simply slipped through your fingers.

Leaving the army was a difficult but necessary choice. That strange power seemed to grow with each day that passed yet you had no clue what it was. Something terrifying was happening inside you and you snuck away from your camp, deserting in search of answers.

Your many attempts to diagnose whatever lay inside you remained unanswered. It felt like some sort of serpent, often dormant and rarely flickering into life. Presently, you find yourself glaring into the horizon and regretting that shitty mug of ale. Falkreath has yielded no answers and although you’ve tried to avoid Skyrim, the College of Winterhold may be your last resort.

It all happens so fast. The clanging of armor and harsh shouts ringing through the forest. Dozens of blades are pointed in your direction and before you can think your hands are cuffed, pack ripped from your back and you’re shoved into a cart of fellow prisoners.

The ride is quite short but one man insists on chatting, drawing the attention of the soldiers. Imperial soldiers. Your stomach turns sour as you rush to come up with a story - it’s been years since you deserted, no one will recognize you. You can claim to be a hunter. The forest has enough elk to make the weapons in your pack plausible.

Staring straight down at the tips of your boots, you avoid acknowledging what is happening only a few yards away. The pleading words, the blade cutting through the air, the sickening thump. You shuffle through the line of prisoners intending to recite your half baked story, steadying yourself when you finally look up.

“And who are,” Hadvar pauses, still staring down at his parchment. Your heart stops when he finally looks up, face bright red as recognition lights his expression. “You?”

You’re fucked.

“I’m a hunter.” You lie as another guard ushers you toward the block. “I was looking for elk. Just a trader.”

“Yeah.” The guard snorts, guiding you to kneel. “I’ve heard that one before.”

There is nothing more to say, no words that will change their minds. Dew coats your knees and you can feel Hadvar staring at you, blue eyes sharp and mouth still parted with questions. You try to take comfort in the clear skies and calm breeze. If you are destined to die today, there is something nice about knowing that the last thing you see will be Hadvar.

“Dragon!”

Your world is a blur of fire and smoke. The executioner’s blade thumps to the ground, mere seconds from taking your head. Rough hands drag you to your feet and you stumble along, unsure if you’re alive. On all sides Helgen is burning, shrieks of the dragon blend with screams of humans into one horrible sound that drowns all else out.

Time slows to a crawl when Hadvar wheels toward you, soot staining his features as steady hands check you for injuries. For one brief moment the world is quiet, Helgen’s Keep miraculously still upright.

“Are you alright?” All you can manage is a nod. Hadvar passes you a sword and plants his helmet on your head, instructing you to stay close. Falling into line with him is too easy - ducking when you feel his muscles flex to swing his sword, backs pressed together as you cut through Stormcloaks and spiders.

The road is quiet, its usual sense of peace only heightening your nerves. Acrid smoke clings to your nostrils and burns sting at your skin but you continue walking, unsure of the destination. Hadvar’s steps are sure through the small village, explaining the situation with only a hint of the panic still lacing your veins. You anticipate questions he does not ask, explanations cluttering your mind but he doesn't breathe a word of your desertion.

His family is wary but welcoming. They don’t ask questions when you refuse to part, sides glued together as you recount your stories. You feel their curious eyes as Hadvar leads you downstairs to where you’ll be staying. He doesn’t pause before unbuckling his armor and falling into the sole bed, one arm open in silent invitation.

“I never thought I’d see you again.” Hadvar murmurs, allowing you to curl into his chest. You can hear the racing of his heart as one arm rests around you, perfectly aligning with all those memories. He’s warm and still smells like fire but you block it out, focusing on nothing more than Hadvar’s hands combing through the mess of your hair. “I’ve lost you so many times, I don’t know if I can let you go again.”

Vilkas

Although Whiterun would always be your home, somewhere deep down you’d long harbored a distaste for how crowded it was. Too many sounds and smells, elbows jostling you and siblings to keep track of. Food sizzling and water gurgling from the nearby fountain, it all turned into one overwhelming wave of sensations. High walls kept out the breeze and often you found your skin felt too tight, ears ringing as you ran off toward one of the abandoned watch towers.

From far below you heard the delighted shrieks of your younger siblings as they frolicked through the market. Your head pounded although the breeze cooled your overheated skin, lessening the sensory terror of the crowd.

“Mind if I sit?” Your eyes shot open and you saw a boy no older than yourself standing on the final step to your hideout. “My brother’s down there but it’s - well, it’s too loud.”

“Sure.” You agreed, scrunching your legs closer to make room. He didn’t say a word, merely plopped down and began reading the book he’d tucked under his arm. His presence was nice, silent and uncaring as you unwound. A breeze whistled through old shudders carrying a welcome chill.

“I should get back to my brother, he’ll start to worry.” He carefully placed a bookmark before standing. “My name is Vilkas.” He only introduced himself upon parting.

Your friendship was easy. Afternoons spent in comfortable silence, tidbits of information swapped once your ears stopped ringing. Vilkas’s way of speaking was refreshing; his tone was always even and getting right to the point. You never had to puzzle through the hidden meaning of what he said not did he push past your limits.

There was no way to know one meeting would be the last. Vilkas was recalled to Jorrvaskr and sent on some mission by his superiors and your mother was being shipped off to Solitude to serve the Jarl. Between packing up your entire life in a few chests and wrangling all of your siblings there was simply no time to find Vilkas, you never got a chance to say goodbye.

Now, the title of Dragonborn grows hefty. You’ve carried it for years but it never seems to get easier - there are constantly people asking for favors or wanting to hear stories you’ve told dozens of times. Although many years have passed you often find yourself wanting to regress to that child that hid away in abandoned guard towers, wishing you could simply curl up in some corner and let the world forget you for a while.

Too many eyes are always on you, watching your every move and telling tales of your heroism. Taverns herald your arrival, merchants offer special deals for your presence, fighters either want to duel or be in your employ. It seems that quiet is simply not in the cards for you.

Trekking across the plains, the buzz of conversation finally ceases. Most civilians aren’t motivated enough to follow you out of their walled city. You walk until your legs are numb and collapse, back pressed to Whiterun’s massive wall as you stare out across the heavens. There's no telling how much time passes - elk skip over the hillsides and shadows grow longer yet you remain, unsure if you are ready to face the bustling city once more.

“You alright?”

There's no hiding your groan at the interruption. A gruff voice breaks through the quiet of nature, ruining the ruffling of wind through tall grass. Biting back whatever truth threatens to spill from your tongue you turn to the offender, intending to ask for a bit of time alone when you pause.

His brown eyes have hardened, now lined with the telltale signs of many sleepless nights. Dark hair has grown out over the years and stubble lines a strong jaw, hands that once carefully balanced books now perched precariously on the hilt of his greatsword. Relief washes away all the annoyance as he silently eases to sit at your side, eyes cast out over the plains.

“You look different.” You dare to observe, a nervous smile breaking out at his snort of laughter.

“You’ve been gone for quite a while.”

Everything is so easy with him. Conversation comes and goes in waves, hours spent catching each other up on your lives lapsing into a comfortable silence. As the sun dips below the horizon and Whiterun’s plains are ablaze in deep shades of orange and pink the tightness in your chest lessens, noise from of the city quieting as its inhabitants seek shelter in homes and taverns. You remain there with Vilkas for far too long, both relieved to reconnect with the one person who understands their need for quiet.

#i'm working on a couple more but figured this was getting too long lmao #skyrim #skyrim x reader #writing #miraak #hadvar #vilkas #x reader fanfic

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bipolarman2022 · 2 months ago

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Amir: Santiago, you have followed my words for months, you have felt our truth resonate within you. I know you have struggled with doubts, with the ghosts of your former life, but the time has come to leave all that behind. You cannot continue with one foot in the past and one in the future. To embrace who you truly are, to join us, you must leave your world.

Santiago: Amir, everything you say fills me with clarity, but leaving my life behind… my family, my culture… is not easy. How can I give up everything I have always been?

Amir: The life you have led so far has served you, Santiago, but it no longer defines you. Look how far you have come following the teachings of “The One.” The past is a shadow, a reflection of what you were. What you are now, what you can be, you will only discover if you dare to take the full step. There are no half measures anymore. To be reborn, you must let go of the old, cut the ties that bind you to that previous life.

Santiago: And what awaits me on this new path, Amir? You say that I must follow you, that I must belong to this brotherhood, but how will I know if I am worthy of that future?

Amir: It is not about being worthy, Santiago. It is about being willing. Being willing to trust, to give yourself completely, to let me guide you. The brotherhood will welcome you as one of its own, but only if you let go of any doubt, any ties. We do not carry the weight of the past, we look forward, to a future where we all walk under the same faith, the same light. You have to give yourself completely, without reservation.

Santiago: And if I do, if I give up my life, what really awaits me? What does this new beginning promise?

Amir: I promise you freedom, Santiago. Not the superficial freedom that you know, but the real one. You will be free from everything that has limited you. Free from fear, free from the chains of the past. In our brotherhood, we are all equal, we all serve “The One,” and under that faith, you will find purpose, strength, and peace. But most of all, you will be part of something bigger than yourself. This is your chance to transcend, to leave a mark that matters.

Santiago: Everything you say sounds like the truth I have always sought… I am ready, Amir. I am ready to leave my life behind, to follow you as my leader. Guide me to that new beginning.

Amir: So, Santiago, from this moment on, you no longer belong to your past. You now belong to our brotherhood, and together we will walk towards a new future. Don’t look back. The world we left no longer exists for you. Go ahead, brother, our destiny awaits us.

#arabophile #arabophilia #arabization #islamization #muslim man #arab superiority #male transformation #gay

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llondonfog · 1 year ago

Note

If you're still taking prompts, could you do a Halloween Event AU where the Knight of the Dawn's ghost appears before Silver to take back his "son." Lilia shows up just in time to see the specter before it drags Silver to the Underworld.

the way ur request hit me like a truck after the new update drop....... i've been toying with the idea of henrik having some kind of control over the knight's soul even in death to bend him to his will, and now that he learns of the knight's child surviving? and with such an interesting, exploitable magic that could offer them a way to break free from the spectral realm and command the dreams of men? oh. well, he simply has to give his eternally bound soldier a new mission. with that in mind, this is a more hallloween/horror au set after the events of this update— mal has been beaten back to his senses, everyone has woken up, lilia has put his plans to leave on pause, but silver is still grappling with the heavy truths he's learned....

the man in the mirror is kind, and that makes everything worse.

he leans in, presses up against the glass in a silent rustle of armor and silks as if his hands might cross over to the other side this time, and asks as he's asked every morning in a voice that rivals the low croon of a mourning dove—

did you sleep well, my son?

my son. my son.

the very title is the reason for the boy's haunted expression, his clouded eyes, the trembling pull of his lip. he has not slept for the past several nights, this the man in the mirror knows, and yet he asks the question without fail and with such sincerity as if he might soothe the shadows that bruise and deepen beneath the boy's gaze, as if he was not the one to put them there.

ah, but that's not entirely fair now, is it?

he did not install this bleeding, aching chasm inside of his child's heart, his is not the name that lingers on the back of his child's throat, choked and stifled under tears as he languishes under unseen night terrors and monstrous shame of guilt. he is not who his child wants, but he will help to teach his child that he can be all that he needs, if he would simply reach out and take his hand. he can ease away the pain, he can learn to hold him close— has he not been denied this for nearly four hundred years? did he not love his child too, once upon a time?

and perhaps he did. but the bindings in death are even stronger than those in life, and henrik's greedy, twisted claim upon the loyalty of his soul has persisted and thrived in the depths of the spectral realm, festering like a weed and rotting away at the clarity of his mind. where once he would have fought to protect his child among the land of the living, he now is blinded, driven by a tainted desire to see him here, safe and sound, among the dead where he belongs. where he should have never been taken from their side, where he can be protected and loved for all of time.

it is easy to whisper such promises when he believes in them, to offer a balm to his child's broken heart. look at what the fae have done to him, look at how they've ruined him so— a prince trained to die, a boy blessed to be love now cursed to question his own worth. if his child does not wish to continue living this painful, miserable lie, then why must he linger and suffer? why, when he could simply reach out and take his father's hand, sink into such sweet, pleasant dreams where the torments of his past could never reach him, not when he has his true father guarding him ever faithfully by his side—

when the door slams open, it is too late.

he smiles, the weight of his child's hand warm and living, full of strength within his own. and to the sweet sound of the fae's anguished screaming, he pulls his son through the mirror, through the glass, and into his father's arms to sleep in peace, forever.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland silver #twst silver #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #twst chapter 7 #twst spoilers #lettie's asks #lettie writes #wails sorry the horror is back #i could not keep away #me @ myself: what if we write fluff to make up for the agony of this update #me @ myself: .....but what if we don't.

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thelampisaflashlight · 1 year ago

Text

What The Garden Grows

[A short drabble wherein Dew speaks with a strange woman in the woods.] Below the cut.

She sets the mug down in front of the man, placing it so the handle faces away from him, and Dew has to fight the urge to adjust it.

He stares at the golden ring around the rim of the mug instead, admiring the delicate shine.

The cup she holds is simpler.

Off white with a single, thin, tan line wrapped around the body.

It reminds him of the sort of dishware you'd find at a twenty-four hour diner where the waitress' name is Pam and she calls you "Hun" in an endearingly rough smoker's voice, in fact...

"My grandmother liked to take souvenirs back from the restaurants she visited." she explains, answering his unasked question.

"Sticky fingers?" he chuckles.

"Like a bird sitting in pine sap."

Dew gives a small smile before picking up his mug and sipping his coffee.

"You have questions." she says, pulling her chair out, the old wood creaking as she makes herself comfortable, "Ask."

Without hesitation, "Who are you?"

"I'm Bea." she replies, "Beatrix Milne, and so you don't have to ask, I'm a gardener."

"At the abbey?" he states, seeking clarity, and the woman nods, "How come I've never seen you before?"

"How often do you come out this far?"

"Touché." he swirls his coffee a little, watching the little bit of unmixed cream make trails, "I suppose you know Mountain then?"

"We've worked together before, yes." she confirms, "...I would consider him a friend... a good friend."

Dew hums, gesturing to the building itself, "What is this place?"

"I think the official name is 'The Cottage'... It's part of an old homestead that belonged to a fellow named Lars a very, very long time ago."

"Mountain's old house then." Dew looks around at the woodwork, ancient, but still standing tall, "He told me about this place a long time ago... Just never knew where it was."

"Then you know the story."

A pause as Dew traces his finger around the rim of his cup.

"...I do."

"You're trying to understand why he did it, aren't you?" Bea guesses, and Dew runs a hand through his hair.

"I know why he did it, I just don't know how." he says, "Do you?"

Bea slides him a plate of pastries, homemade, and Dew carefully takes a bite of one.

Apple.

"Everyone here has secrets, child of Bothynus." she smiles, "Sometimes it is better to live without knowing."

"Ignorance is bliss then, is it?"

"So it seems."

Dew looks at the flecks of thin bread upon his fingers, "...What are you?"

Bea breaks one of the pastries in half, dunking it in her coffee, "Human."

"You're a very odd human." Dew remarks, "Is that an American thing?"

She laughs, "Maybe. Who can say?"

"Why did you come here, Bea?" Dew asks after a moment, "What called you to this place?"

"Family." she says, "A promise."

"You have family here?"

"Not anymore, not in the physical sense at least."

"I was worried for a moment," he whispers, "that you might be one of the old bastard's secret children."

Bea takes a small bite of her treat, "Perhaps, perhaps not. I don't know who my father is, but I doubt he was anyone important."

"And your mother?"

"Troubled in life, hopefully at peace in death." she folds her hands upon the tabletop, "You can relate."

Dew sits back in his chair, "See, that's what makes me wonder if you really are human. You know too much."

"I could know more." she offers her hands to him, and he finds himself setting his own upon her palms, "What do you want to see?"

"You already know."

"You have to say it." she tells him gently.

"...I want to see Aether." he admits.

"I make no promises." she says, locking eyes with him.

"I expect none."

"Let us gaze into the deep then, together, shall we?"

#lamp writes #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic #aether ghoul #ghost band oc

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stardust-in-my-mind-blog · 5 months ago

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portal points

it doesn't matter how I craft the map

or try to compose the direction I'm meant to take

I run my fingertips over the places where we met

I pause and let memories take me by the hand

my eyes close and I let myself dream and feel

whatever it is they want to show me

what lesson have I learned from the situation

how painful it was between confusion and clarity

what peace I found in the beauty of our connection

what emotions did you inspire within me?

how did they sink into my body?

my heart is strong but she's still so shy

sometimes I fall back into the pattern where I think

everything I say or do is a burden or trouble

you heal in layers and that feeling has the most

the cardinal in my juniper bush sings me awake

when I collapse back onto my bed like a gothic heroine

in the sunny afternoon he returns to remind me he's there

it's the scarlet bird that represents this kingdom

and he does what he can to remind me I belong

as I surrender back to a reality I understand now

you only treated me like that so I could feel

what you felt when everyone told you

something about the way you wore your skin

somehow meant you weren't part of the world

your only crime was to be born into

we shared that same heartbreak since children

and I'm so sorry I somehow made you feel it again

I wonder if you ever lose the feeling of being an exile

it does have the benefit of hiding in plain sight

you become a mirror that people either

love you for reflecting their energy back to them

or hate you for exposing them as they are

it's not quite the same as being seen but it works

at least you exist as long as you play the part

everyone wants to get their hands on beautiful things

not everyone wants to protect or value them

imagine me taking those old maps I drew

rolling them up and giving them directly to the fire

I wouldn't smile as they burned but I would

watch paper turn to smoke and ash intently

I wouldn't let go until the flames nipped my fingers

I'm releasing the hurt of everything I've known

I will no longer store it in this body

I'm releasing the destructive hopes that keep me

waiting for an outcome I'll likely never see

nor do I even know if I want it

and I know I gave it enough time

like a flower I will bloom and open my arms to the world

and see where that gets me

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faithfullyfound · 10 months ago

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The Power of the Lord

God will use anyone, and I mean anyone to spread His message. I often wonder why God allowed me to find Him, allowed me to accept Him, I often wonder why I am so blessed to belong to this kingdom.

But then I fear that by following Him I am missing out on the world. I fear I'm missing out on experiences that I will never be able to have if I continue walking in faith.

But this is so ridiculously stupid. Sure I might miss out on parties, drinking, etc. but that is nothing compared to the light, joy, and patience God's goodness and grace give me. I also remember what my life looked like when I was a lukewarm Christian. I practiced witchcraft (convincing myself that this was ok), I affirmed sin, I was depressed, I was anxious, but most notably I was so confused. I questioned my existence and if I even mattered. I felt confused in my own body and I did not truly care about myself.

But after I found God, and truly grew with Jesus I felt loved, and accepted. I still struggle with anxiety and intrusive thoughts at times but I am NOT CONFUSED. I have eyes to see the evil present in our world. I have eyes to see TRUE CHRISTIANITY and most notably I have a tongue to proclaim that Jesus is Lord, and He's my Savior. Not only has He saved me from my inevitable death but He's saved me from dying right now. Every time I sin I am digging my own grave but Jesus picks me up when I stumble and He truly loves me.

It is so hard for me to listen to the Lord's voice because I fear I am becoming a "crazy Christian" someone who is doing too much and could potentially push people away from the Gospel. But at the end of the day, I need to remember that my hope is found in Jesus. He is my Savior no one else.

For Luke 14:33 ESV says, "So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple." We are called to give everything up. I will be very transparent and say there are habits, shows, and friendships that I haven't given up to the Lord. But I pray that through the power of conviction in the Holy Spirit the Lord leads me and anyone else reading this to live a life where we can renounce everything for our Lord.

Isaiah 42:16-19 CSB says, "I will lead the blind by a way they did not know; I will turn darkness to light in front of them and fought places into level ground. This is what I will do for them, and I will not abandon them." If the creator of the universe can do this much for me I can give up my fears and worries to Him.

For while my flesh has led me astray and gives me doubt and death and destruction. Following God gives me peace and clarity which I value more than any happiness that things of the world have given me. I remember praying for people to like me, my crushes to be my Valentine, etc. and then feeling betrayed by God when that did not happen. But God sees the bigger picture and He's looking out for me. I do not need to know God's exact plans for me I just need to trust in Him. Even amid my struggles, temptations, etc. I will trust in Him.

*Also side-note but I literally was wondering how to get closer to God and I wanted to feel His presence so I opened my Bible just randomly and turned to Isaiah 42 which in my bible is titled The Servants Mission & A Song of Praise, which both perfectly told me who I am in Christ. Trust me Jesus, God, and the Holy Spirit are always with you.

#following God is needed in everything #I still sin but I am trying to be more righteous #faith in jesus #bible study #christian faith #christianity #christian girl #christian blog #jesus saves #christian art #jesus

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changingplumbob · 10 months ago

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Pancakes Household: Chapter 8, Part 2

In this part Fergus' sleepover continues then Eliza tells Bob about her pregnancy decision. It's a quick Freezer Bunny day and Iggy and Carson catch up after their scout meeting. Contains some sim spice, as usual no pixel private parts are shown.

For clarity Bob's nickname for Eliza is Jumble, and Eliza's nickname for Bob is Sleek. I'll try to capitalise them when they're being used as names to make any translations easier.

Eliza: Kids! Come eat! Bob left waffles

Drake: Sweet

Fergus: Did Atlas just disappear

Eliza: He left, he’s not coming back

Fergus: OMW mother what did you do

Eliza: Nothing! He was coughing and his mum rang and said she tested positive for Llamaflu and thought he should get home and rest just in case

Kelly: I hope he infected us all, it’s what I would do

Iggy: Fergus why are your friends so weird

Drake: I’m sure your friends are more weird

Ginger: *whines* just drop a corner, come on, give me a taste of waffle

Iggy: Kelly? Weren’t you just here

Kelly: It’s called a sleepover and if it goes well the watcher will count it as one of needed three gold sleepovers

Iggy: I’m not sure that’s how the watcher works

Kelly: How would you know? Had a conversation with them have you

Iggy: Just about how annoying you are

Eliza: Ginger? Where are you?

Ginger: *barks happily* 🎵trash, oh glorious TRASH🎶

Eliza: Ginger did you come outside?

Ginger: *barks happily* 🎶Trash I love you, oh trash I do🎵

Eliza: GINGER! We do NOT play in trash! Are you a common stray? No, you are meant to be domesticated. Get your paws OUT

Ginger whines sadly, learning not to play in the trash.

Eliza: There there, it’s okay. You’re still the best girl around here

Eliza: Lets go give you a bath before Bob decides you smell great in trash scents

Fergus: It’s called- mother, why are you here

Eliza: It is my house, I need good light

Fergus: But this is my sleepover

Eliza: Relax Fergus. I’m nearly done then I’ll leave you three in peace

Drake: Knew we should have done this at my house

Kelly: To bad you were to stupid to book this weekend first

The kids bicker and Eliza once again wonders how any of them call Kelly their friend.

Drake: I hope Atlas will be better for school

Fergus: The family always get their vaccinations, they’ll be fine

Kelly: Unless they all die

Drake: You don’t seriously think that

Kelly: Maybe they’re getting a visit from Grim right now, he’s going to get us all

Fergus: Oh yeah? Is Grim going to get Anya then?

Kelly: Obviously, Grim means business

Fergus: I forgot to tell you, I’ve joined the drama club

Drake: Why

Fergus: Just had a whim to try it

Kelly: Yeah I have whims to but they’re normally stuff like, make enemies

Drake: Do you actually have any enemies

Kelly: *sighs* it’s not for lack of trying, believe me

Fergus: Plus look at those two on the TV, they’re our age and they would have made money from this

Drake: Their parents probably forced them to do it

Kelly: Parents are the worst

Fergus: Make that all adults *titters* I’m an adult and you need to do what I say

Drake: If you don’t you’ll be sent straight to bed

Kelly: With no supper to wither and starve

The three wind themselves up with their impersonations and eventually have to give up on the film after missing what was even happening.

Fergus: Okay, story time! Come here Ginger, you can help

Drake: Why is your dog half inside your sleeping bag

Fergus: Dogs belong everywhere, don’t question it

Kelly: This better be scary

Fergus: Actually I’m going to tell the tale of a pirate

Drake cheers while Kelly boos. Fergus launches into his adventurous tale anyway. He has fun and the boys can see he’s practicing for drama club already.

We had some minor game glitches (by minor I mean it took between 1 and 2 hours of mod testing to find the culprit) so if there’s some continuity errors we will all just roll with it.

Bob arrives home happy. He had a stern critic come by the restaurant and rather than bore them with the house staple he decided to make them some comforting mac and cheese. He didn’t lose any job performance, so he calls in a vacation day for tomorrow. He sneaks inside past the sleeping kids and goes to find his wife.

Eliza: And that is why your only choice can be to invest in the company

Bob: I’m convinced

Eliza: You’re home, finally! Let’s get it on

Bob: Can we talk first

Eliza: Sure. What is it Sleek?

Bob: Have you thought about if we’re going to properly try for another pregnancy

Eliza: *sighs* I have thought about it

Bob: Do we have a verdict

Eliza: Lie back, get comfy, and listen

Bob climbs on the bed and Eliza begins to speak between kisses.

Eliza: I want another kid with you. I do. But I’m proud of what I’m achieving career wise right now. This next promotion will take a lot of work. If we get pregnant, then we get pregnant and I will love our child, but for now my focus needs to be on upskilling myself

Bob: I think you’re very skilled already

Eliza: *smirks* I can hardly use these skills in the boardroom. But I’ll make you a promise

Bob: I’m listening, I am a captive audience after all

Eliza: If we don’t get pregnant by the time Fergus is a teenager, we can start properly trying again. Will you be okay with that?

Bob: I can be. I love you. I want you to be happy

Eliza: Believe me Bob, right now you are making me very happy and… *chuckles* yes it feels like I’m making you happy to

The conversation draws to its natural conclusion, woohoo. The next day is Freezer Bunny Day and the slumber party kids wake up pretty early.

Eliza: Have you lot had breakfast already?

Fergus: Of course mother

Eliza: Are you alright Kelly? You don’t look too flash

Kelly: Bloody Atlas must have infected me before he left

Eliza: I think it’s time to head home then. You to Drake

Fergus: Mother what time is the holiday ceremony

Eliza: Not until 10, we have some time

Bob: I wanted waffles for breakfast

Eliza: You could always make some more

Bob: No point, I’m doomed to be sad

Eliza: Have some of this trout with me, you did a great job with it

Bob: Really?

Eliza: It’s excellent, I promise

The two eat and flirt some more before Eliza gets up to wash the dishes.

Eliza: I can feel you staring at my ass Sleek

Bob: But it’s such a fine ass

Eliza: I’m glad one of us appreciates this unshifting baby weight

Iggy enters the kitchen and Bob decides to pull Eliza aside to keep talking.

Bob: I’m sorry you’re unhappy with it, but I do love the curves

Eliza: I know you do, I just wished I loved them more. I mean looking at me, who would know I’m fit

Bob: Don’t worry about what other people think, to me you’re the most beautiful sim in the world. Remember what I told you last time you felt like this

Eliza: *sighs* That me being curvy was a sign of love? Love for the food you make and love for the lives I brought into this world

Bob: Exactly. You know I met this stunning girl in university who told me, weight doesn’t equal worth, and it helped me beyond measure

Eliza: She sounds like a catch

Bob: *chuckles* why do you think I married you before some other sim could. Now come on, or we’ll be late

After the Freezer Bunny Day ceremony Eliza goes to practice her skills and Bob searches for Ginger. She is very dirty so Bob decides the smartest thing to do is wait until after a jog to give her a bath.

Fergus: Did you check the couches

Iggy: Yes, I found a couple. Did you look in the laundry bins

Fergus: I don’t think the Freezer Bunny would put eggs in dirty laundry

Iggy: Yet you said we needed to check the toilets

Fergus: You’ve been pranked!

Iggy: How could it be a prank if I found an egg there

Fergus: *huffs* stupid Freezer Bunny

Bob: We did the jog, no more avoiding, it’s bath time

Ginger: *whimpers* but I don’t even know how I got dirty

Bob: I’m sorry. If it was up to me you could stay dirty forever. But we need to think of the others in the house, and they don’t enjoy dirty dog smell

Ginger: *whines* but I just had a bath yesterday, infants don’t even get bathed daily

Bob: Guess we’ll do this the hard way then

He scoops up Ginger and carries her to the bathroom, all the while she yaps in protest.

Bob: See, if we keep the harness on we can clean it at the same time. Eliza had to get me to stop showering with my clothes on, but it saved time so it was hard to convince me not to

Bob places Ginger down and she immediately begins flinging off all the loose water. Bob tries to avoid it but a puddle appears. He decides it will dry by itself. Carrying Ginger in to the lounge he sets her down and switches her into he collar.

Bob: There, clean and fashionable

Iggy brings Carson with him after scouts. Harvey is going to swing by for dinner and pick him up then. They do the secret scout handshake and reflect on the meeting.

Carson: I can’t believe you found that super rare badge

Iggy: I can’t believe they dropped it. I’m glad the troop leader knew who it belonged to though and was able to get it back to them

Carson: You definitely couldn’t have kept it, the leader would know you didn’t earn it

Harvey: I saw your wife tuning up the doorbell

Bob: I knew there was probably something I forgot to do

Harvey: Are you looking forward to your birthday tomorrow Iggy?

Iggy: Yes! Though it sucks Carson can’t age up at the same time

Carson: We are technically the same age after all. Promise me you’ll still come to my birthday party when I have it

Iggy: Absolutely!

Bob: Food everyone! Come and get it!

Iggy: It looks great dad. Mother are you... smoking?

Eliza: I’ll be fine. I just got electrocuted by the doorbell

Bob: Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you should lie down? With soup!

Eliza: I’ll be fine Bob

Fergus: Wait… if both of you are Llamacorn scouts... why don’t you have matching uniforms?

Iggy: I don't have an answer (and neither does the watcher)

Previous Part ... Next Part

#sims 4 #the sims 4 #the sims #Rotation8 #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #PancakesHousehold #ElizaPancakes #FergusPancakes #BobPancakes #KellyYork #CarsonFoster #HarveyFoster #simblr #OnyxPancakes #IggyPancakes #R0805

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thejournallo · 3 months ago

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Dear journalist ,

Hi,I hope you are having a good day. As I approach a new milestone in my life—my 18th birthday this November—I find myself reflecting deeply on my aspirations and the future that lies ahead. It’s an exciting yet daunting time, and I feel it's the perfect moment to seek guidance and support in my journey of manifestation.

Throughout my journey , I keep grappling with self-doubt, particularly when it comes to envisioning and manifesting my dreams. However, as I step into this new chapter , I am determined to focus my energy on what truly resonates with my heart. Here are a few aspirations I am longing to bring into my life:

My Dream Career as a Mangaka: I have always been passionate about drawing and storytelling, and my ultimate dream is to create captivating manga that resonates with readers worldwide. I've envisioned moving to Japan and establishing my own company to share my stories, potentially even having my work go viral. I know this journey will be challenging, yet I’m eager to learn and grow.

Finding Love: Love is a beautiful concept that I hold dear, and I dream of marrying my absolute favorite celebrity—though the irony is, no one knows what she looks like! This might seem like a grand ambition, but I firmly believe in the power of love and connection. I trust that, in time, our paths will intertwine in the most wonderful way.

Owning My Dream Home: I envision a sanctuary that reflects my personality and dreams—somewhere I can create, feel at peace, and grow. It’s more than just a house; it’s a space where my heart can thrive.

Building a Large Family: Finally, I dream of having a vibrant family filled with love, laughter, and support. I long for those shared moments and experiences that contribute to a rich family tapestry, creating lasting memories together.

Given my challenges with self-doubt and the manifestation process, I would greatly appreciate any methods or tips you might have. I truly believe that with the right mindset and tools, I can attract these dreams into my life. If you have any insights, resources, or practices that have worked for you or others you know, I would love to hear about them.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

Hi there!

First of all, I apologize profusely for the late reply. I did read your message when you first sent it, but I didn’t have a quiet moment to respond until now.

The beauty of all this is that you already know what you want. You can see it, you can feel it—it’s there, just waiting for the right time and mindset.

One thing I often suggest when people ask about overcoming self-doubt is to respond directly to those doubts. For example, if you find yourself thinking, “This will never happen for me,” or “My manifestation is stupid,” take a moment to stop and counter those thoughts. Tell yourself, “I believe this will happen for me at the right time, and I’m going to take steps to help it along. My manifestations aren’t stupid, and I should be proud of myself for trying to create something great.”

I did this a lot when I was struggling with self-doubt and insecurities, and over time, my mind learned that those feelings didn’t belong to me anymore.

Another thing I always recommend is writing. You can write about anything—what you want to manifest, how you imagine it, who you are now, and who you want to be in 10 years. You can write about your good and bad feelings, and you can even create a fake chat to respond to your doubting thoughts. Writing is a powerful tool, and it’s fascinating how much clarity it can bring once you put your thoughts on paper.

One piece of advice I really want to give you specifically is to re-read what you wrote to me. You already have everything sorted out. It seems like you just need a little nudge to continue on your manifestation journey, but in reality, you’re already well on your way. Manifesting doesn’t have to be complicated or involve a bunch of methods. It can be as simple as taking one small action that impacts your future.

For example, one day I said out loud that I wanted to learn about social media management, and boom—I found a whole course on it for free, just because I put it out there. Imagine what you could achieve with your mindset focused on the future. It’s going to be stunning and full of great things.

(Of course, don’t forget to live in the present too—that’s what makes life worth living.)

#manifestation #manifesting #shifting methods #loa methods #spiritual development #manifesation #manifestation method #journal #explain the method #explained

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ineedmyknightcommander · 1 year ago

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Fic: into His light

They are coming home.

DRAGON AGE | ANDRASTE/MAFERATH/THE MAKER | WORDS: 535 | RATED: G (AO3 LINK.)

At first, there is pain behind comprehension: steel rending flesh, the body’s mortal coil severed.

And then, for a fleeting moment in time and an eternity, there is nothing. Nothing more than Silence.

When he opens his eyes, he sees his Beloved before him. She is ethereal, glowing: as always, She is radiant as the day they had met; as radiant as the day She had burned.

He is overcome once more by the urge to apologise profusely, prostrate himself at Her feet, beg Her for Her mercy. But what use would it be? What good would come of it? Mere words could not possibly explain his decisions, and especially not his mistakes.

He has no explanations left to give but the excuses he has given Her already. Readying himself to try again anyway, She instead silences him by intertwining Her fingers with his own. A gentle squeeze of his hand.

“The suffering of our people has been abated,” She begins, “and your role has been performed to perfection.”

“They think me a coward, a fool, a traitor,” Maferath spits. He cannot forget how the steel of their sons’ blades had sliced through his chest and punctured his heart. “And they would be right.”

His Beloved slowly shakes Her head. “They knew not the sacrifices that were asked of us. Of you. But one day, the day when my song reaches all corners of the world, they will understand as I do.”

“Do you?” Maferath answers numbly, still feeling undeserving of Her affection. "Understand?"

“I always have,” She promises, thumb rubbing reassuring circles against his skin. “Unaware of the details as I might have been, I always kept faith that you would do whatever was necessary to protect our people.”

Doubt floods his chest as it so often does these days, his heart forever heavy since the moment of his betrayal. “But how can you be so certain?”

As soon as the words escape his lips he realises that he has always known the answer.

That She has always known the answer.

“You know how,” Andraste answers, and in that moment, he feels it: Her presence, Her presence radiating the warmth of Her funeral pyre.

He feels like he is burning with Her, but he still doesn’t let go of Her hand.

“Now walk with me,” She commands, leading restlessly as always. “There is someone I want you to meet.”

As always, Andraste leads and Maferath follows, but the pain and resentment he had once harboured in Her shadow has been absolved.

Hand in hand, they begin their journey into the Maker’s light, to bask in the splendour of their divine Creator.

Under his once-mortal skin, there is a humming. Growing, intensifying, like the vibrations of a well-contented cat.

“I have been kept waiting,” booms a voice beyond comprehension; it rattles off the non-existent walls, reaches to them, through him, and beyond.

It is a tone, an admonishment. It should shake him to his very core and yet it fills him only with serenity and peace.

Devotion and love.

Clarity and certainty combine in perfect chorus: this is the place they have always truly belonged. They are not leaving, but returning.

They are coming home.

#dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #andraste #maferath #the maker #ziskfic

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voyager-jc-addict-aka-muizeke83 · 10 months ago

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Sacred Ground…

Suddenly, science isn’t all anymore… and it shakes her foundation.

A little add-on to the episode:

I don’t know what happened, I can’t explain it, but I feel like the rug has been pulled from underneath my feet. Everything I believed in, that science was the answer… my answer to everything.

The science told me I was being crazy. Walking into that shrine was going to kill us, but it didn’t. I’m still here, Kes is back, and we are both as healthy as before.

Physically I feel fine. A little tired maybe; these past few days have taken a toll on my body. Nothing a good night’s rest and a hearty meal won’t fix.

Mentally tough, I feel… unstable. For the first time, I had to let go of everything I knew. I needed to trust the process. I needed to have faith, especially in myself. I sliver of doubt and –

Chakotay was ready to relieve me of duty. He had every right. This was so out of character for me, I wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. But he believed in me. He believed in the process.

That’s the difference between us, I guess. Although he has always fought the ways of his people, he has grown to respect spiritualism. His vision quests have brought him clarity and answers in his own trying times.

Chakotay understood I had to do this. And he let me. Despite the evidence, despite the odds.

I’m grateful, but very, very confused.

The hiss of the door startles me, and I find myself standing inside my quarters. I can’t remember how I got here; I was just in sickbay.

It’s quiet. I look out the view port at the unfamiliar stars rushing by, the hum of Voyager’s engines the only sound; A constant, a focal point.

And then my vision blurs. I can feel a tear leave the corner of my eye, trail its way down my cheek to the corner of my mouth; I can taste the saltiness. I try to draw in a breath, and a sob escapes me, the sound too harsh and foreign.

My chime rings and I quickly wipe away the wetness from my cheek. “Come in.”

I don’t turn around, I know it’s Chakotay.

“Kathryn, how are you feeling?”

I still don’t know how to answer that, so I settle for, “I’m fine.”

When his hand comes to rest on my shoulder, my body tenses and I hold my breath. I can’t with this man, I just can’t hide from him, not anymore. As if he knows by heart what I need, knows even before I do, he comes to stand close behind me, an open invitation.

I could have easily stayed where I was, the small gesture being enough, but in that moment, I needed more; I needed his stability and strength. Leaning into him, I reach up to cover his hand with mine, his thumb drawing little circles.

All the tension seems to flow away, my body relaxing against his strong chest. His other arm wraps around my waste, pulling me even closer and I realize he didn’t just come here to check up on me. I suddenly understand that what I did, what he let me do, had been a leap of faith for him too. The science had been that convincing.

“What if it hadn’t worked?”

“It did. There’s no point in questioning your actions now.”

“You… believed in me.”

“I was so scared, but yes, I believed in you.” I hear his voice break, his forehead coming to rest on our joint hands, his face turned into the crook of my neck.

His breath is hot on my skin yet gives me goosebumps. Standing there, wrapped up in his arms feels so good, and a sense of peace and belonging settles over me. My rock, my compass, my best friend. What would I do without him.

#st voy #captain kathryn janeway #st voyager #star trek voy #voy #janeway x chakotay #chakotay #commander chakotay #janeway and chakotay #sacred ground #i believe in you #believe in yourself

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theluckywizard · 1 year ago

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hiiiii Lucky what if something Fade heist to rescue Hawke related + "No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world" and/or "Well, did you miss me?" from the Florence prompts?? 👀 Happy Friday and have fun!!

So this started for @dadrunkwriting Friday two weeks ago and then I got SUPER INVESTED and have been working on it ever since. I've popped an ambient song link in for effect! Illustration by me :)

Summary: The nightmares Rose had of Hawke following Adamant prompted her to develop a recurring dream with Solas, one she's had hundreds of times. It's safe. It's always the same. But something isn't right this time. And the dream will never be the same again. (Flangst, extra angst)

Characters: Rose Trevelyan, Garrett Hawke

WC: (buckle up!) 5075

Rating/CW: Explicit, sex!

Ambient Music - Olafur Arnalds - Dalur (loop it for full effect)

The intense clarity that the Anchor gave my dreams had always been tolerable– at least until Hawke stayed behind in the Fade. I could only live through so many iterations of watching the man I love get impaled and crushed by the Nightmare. So many dreams replaying the moment I left him behind. Listening to Hawke tell me in a dozen different ways that I’d abandoned and betrayed him, that he never actually loved me. Watching him end his own life out of hopelessness. In my grief and desperation I begged Solas to teach me some manner of control.

My subconscious had become unbearable and I needed to master it.

So he and I crafted a dream I could safely retreat to each night, a prison, or fortress of sorts to keep me safe from such intrusions. He’d asked me to choose a familiar place, where each detail was etched deeply into my memory. He had me choose activities to pursue within the safety of the setting, something to pass the time until I returned to consciousness, where my darkest thoughts were under stricter control.

I’ve dreamt of my quarters at home at the estate hundreds of times. It’s my refuge. Jigsaw puzzles and knitting. Playing my lute in my pillows piled high by the window. It gives a sense of peace I could never hope to find in Skyhold, where I’m haunted by ghosts of my decisions and the cost of war. Haunted by memories of Hawke.

The wards Solas taught me to set keep all of that out.

I pick at my lute, singing a tune in Antivan as rain rolls in from the Waking Sea and washes down my window. My voice is always sweet in my dreams, never needing warming up or clearing. My velvet pillows hug me while I lounge back into them. Everything is in its right place.

But there’s something strange across my room.

Something that doesn’t belong.

On the center of my bed is a yellow cactus flower.

My lute slips and clatters in a twang of strings on the floor as I’m assaulted by the memories, how a yellow bloom would grace my cot each evening in the Western Approach. I stand and approach the flower with the caution its alien nature merits.

“Maker’s breath,” I mutter, crawling onto the bed and picking it up. I spin the fragile bloom against my nose, the petals like satin, the fragrance familiar, flooding my chest with warmth. If I’m losing my grip on my recurring dream, at the very least this is a welcome intrusion.

But I check the wards to make sure I’ve activated them properly before slipping into the safety of my dream. The wards are live. I examine the flower, brushing it over my lips, attempting to divine meaning from it. It’s a fond memory of a different time, of a great love I didn’t understand or appreciate. But the warmth gives way to torment, as considering the flower cleaves my heart, the grief falling like a greataxe as I recall how I’d failed to tell him how deeply I’d felt before being scooped around the waist by Alistair and flung back through the rift.

And then I wake myself, because Maker, I can’t do this all over again.

The next night I’m welcomed by a platter of too many cheeses, partially picked over with all together too much fruit for a proper cheese deity. It sits precariously on the edge of my nightstand. And this time I laugh when the tear sneaks out the corner of my eye. No amount of grief could sully the ridiculousness of that memory.

After that it’s a book of Antivan smut on my window seat, The Fires of Satinalia, open to a picture of the Contessa and Signore della Verga canoodling in a dark alley. I’d given it away after we’d collected it from his effects, the thought of looking at it without him there to incite my blushes and horrified snorts unsupportable at the time. It prompts a wistful smile now.

It goes on for weeks, mementos of Hawke tucked around my room. I learn to look for them, like my own mind is pranking me elaborately. A bronze statuette inside my lute case. A purple bathrobe draped over my breakfast chair. A bottle of Garbolg’s Backcountry Reserve and two cobweb covered glasses on my nightstand. A scarlet scarf in rose imprinted damask with a tattered fringe on my dressing table. A wild sketch of quaking undead imprisoned in a livestock wagon on my desk.

I don’t know how or why it’s happening. But the joy it provokes has me awakening with tears in my eyes.

Perhaps I no longer need my prison of a dream.

Tonight when I arrive in my bedroom there’s nothing. I search everywhere for the treat, combing the room in an ever increasing state of agitation. I’ve gone blithely straight to sleep for weeks to see what happy little treasure I’d find next. Disappointment sets in, aching behind my sternum as I sit on the edge of my bed bent over my knees, hugging my head in my arms. The rims of my eyes gather up my tears as I realize how much I’d come to depend upon the trinkets, on the whimsy of my own tenacious subconsciousness to muddle through the day.

Ambient music - Slow Meadow - Hurricane

There’s a sound competing with the insistent drum of the rain on my window, the sound of wooden puzzle pieces clicking into place on the table behind me. I straighten, my breath frozen in my lungs. Peering anxiously over my shoulder I see a giant of a man hunched over my table on an elbow, pushing puzzle pieces around and sorting them, his hair tied up in a familiar, darling little tail like it used to be.

“Hawke?” I inquire, guarded, bracing myself for some horror or other when he responds. He pushes back from the desk to stand, the rolling chair sliding a little farther than he means it to and turns to me. The last time he’d fixed his gaze upon me, he’d held me tightly between him and his shield and fearlessly pronounced his love as the Nightmare drifted closer. He’d instructed me to go– to stop Corypheus. He’d pressed his lips to mine in a final desperate kiss. I consider all the twisted dreams I’d had of his face, this beautiful face and how they had crippled me with sorrow and guilt.

And yet this feels strangely real.

The brightness of his eyes pierce me, his lips turned slightly at one corner in a subdued little smirk, waiting for my reaction.

And as for that, I am tear-streaked astonishment, my eyes hazy and overwhelmed, my mouth agape. Closing the distance between us in a few steps, I pick up his hand with a determined curiosity, assessing the weight of it, the thickness of his palm, the way his fingers are too big to thread completely between mine.

His arming doublet is ragged and frayed over an equally tired linen shirt, and he's got a scruffy beard that looks as though it’s been maintained with a dull dagger. I reach up and feel his lips with my fingers, and they're as soft and full as they ought to be. I trace the lines across his forehead, then his brows and cheekbones. Hawke clutches my face gently, his thumbs brushing over each of my cheeks in that delicate way of his, like I’m a freshly plucked cactus flower he might accidentally crush.

“Well did you miss me?” he asks quietly, his gaze, deep as a summer sky, joined to mine with customary intensity. I collapse against him, shoving my arms under his unfastened doublet to wrap them tightly around him, letting his shirt catch all of my tears as they fall, failing to restrain the jerk of my sobs in my ribs. I feel his lips pressed firmly against the top of my head as he folds me into the thickness of his arms.

It feels too real. I’ve become too adept at this dreaming business.

“Uh– Rose?” he inquires, his voice perturbed. I glance through the glare of my tears to realize that my bedroom is dissolving around us, my carefully constructed dream slipping away under the weight of my own overwhelm. Everything gives way to a hazy amber light that holds us gently, like the golden glow of an emergent sunrise, promising another chance. There’s nothing but us.

I tighten my hold on his middle, afraid that if I let go the dream will collapse completely, leaving me alone to be followed by the unlimited void of his absence. Perhaps I could unburden myself of the feelings I’ve held close for months– the ones I’d barely understood until confronted with the prospect of losing him forever.

“I know it doesn’t matter now,” I start, speaking with my ear pressed against his chest, “but I was a monumental idiot.” I hear a laugh escape through his nose softly above me, lips buried in my hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how deeply I felt. I didn’t know until it was too bloody late.”

“That’s all right,” he says, a surprisingly soft, humorless response, kissing his way to my forehead, his hold tightening.

“It’s not all right,” I argue with more intensity than I mean to. “It’s not. I pushed you away because how much I felt terrified me. And then– and now– you’re gone.”

“I’m right here,” he says firmly, gripping me by the shoulders, bearing down on me with a determined gaze. “I’m here. I’m alive.” I look at him, shaking my head at the tricks my mind is playing on me, wishing that I’d been able to keep a grip on this bloody dream of mine. Wishing Solas was around to help me fix it.

Hawke bends and kisses me forcefully, like he’s out to prove something, a sturdy kiss that I could never doubt. He pulls back and looks at me again as if the gesture should signify something.

But a kiss from Hawke is in keeping with everything else I’d let into my dream lately.

“Do you know how hard it was to break into this blazing cage of yours?” he asks, clearly annoyed with me, his fingers weaving in my hair. “Maker, Rose. I thought you’d know right away.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, stupified by the line of questioning.

“I found a way back to you, just as you asked. I– broke into your dreams to find you. Maker, I’ve wandered into the dreams of so many– but they won’t bloody well listen! And yours is the only one locked down like a proper vault. And you know how awful I am at lockpicking!”

His words force a flinch out of me as I grapple with it.

“You’re my subconscious,” I whisper past him as if I’m alone. He just shakes his head, exasperated. “You’re everything I’ve desperately wished for.” Hawke looks like he’s going to argue more but then holds back.

“Everything?” he asks with a sheepish smile. “I thought you knew better than to say things like that to me, Rose.”

“I’d like nothing more than for you to actually be here.”

“I am here. Rose– the trinkets I’ve been leaving– I was trying to prove to you that someone was tinkering with your blazing dream. That it wasn’t your mind. That it was me. I’m here. I’m alive in the Fade,” he says and then picks up my hand gently, stroking his fingers over the glow at the center of my palm. “And I need this beautiful hand of yours to escape.”

“Hawke–”

“I didn’t think it would be such a blazing chore to convince you.” He pulls a hand from my cheek to run it back into his hair in frustration, scratching his forehead as if to think of a new plan.

“It’s– you?” I ask, doubt still tugging at my mind in every direction.

“Maker, yes. And I’ve been looking forward to this for ages, you goose. Seeing you. Holding you.”

“How?” I ask, but Hawke bends to kiss me again gently, grazing his lips across my face until they catch mine and linger, the question in my mouth evaporating. Basking in the warmth of breath, in the give of each other’s hungry mouths, desire awakens within me, rapidly filling every interstitial space inside of me until it spills forth. We can’t be close enough, not like this.

In the time I’ve gone without him I’ve nearly forgotten the little details: his scent– peppermint salve and leather and sweat– the squash of his embrace, the energy and rhythm of our kiss. Hawke’s gentleness belies his fervor, but I can feel it in the intrepid way his hands tour over the curves of my body. He draws my knee up outside his hip with a hand under my thigh, sliding a leg between mine, his eager length pressed against the heat growing in my core. But there’s nowhere to go– my room has melted away into this lovely, yet shockingly inadequate stew of light and feeling around us.

“Could you perhaps dream us up a bed? A desk? A wheelbarrow?” he asks, beaming, bending to nudge his nose against mine. “Or perhaps that delightful window seat of yours?”

I’ve never lost the dream before though– and I’m not sure I can retrieve it.

“Couldn’t whatever is beneath our feet suffice?” I ask, a little desperate. He looks down at the amber nothingness and chuckles, because gravity is still fixing us to some manner of floor and then regards me like I’m mad or I’m giving up too quickly.

I close my eyes, attempting to journey again and draw the details from memory– the deep bench by my window with dozens of pillows. The velvet cushions. The lambswool blanket I always tuck around me to keep away the familiar creep of cold through the window. The rain streaming down the panes of glass. The evergreen forest emerging from a bank of fog.

Hawke laughs in wonderment as it all materializes before him.

“That’ll do,” he says, lifting me lightly across the partially imagined room to the window seat, a facsimile of the very place I’d first become acquainted with the Champion. Where I’d read the polished, scrappy account of him carving a place for himself and his family out of the unforgiving black cliffs of Kirkwall.

Rapturous, he eases carefully onto the window seat, scooting us over so my knees have somewhere to settle and he kicks his feet up. Astride him, my face is just above level and even beholding him at this distance, I’m still unsure if he’s real or not. The Fade is still a foreign place to me even after two trips. But my desire to make love to him, to tangle up our limbs and breath, to be filled by him is as real as anything, and I push his frayed doublet off his shoulders which he wrestles out of and then tosses into the amber ether.

“Ah, shit. I’m never getting that back, am I?” he says with a cheeky smile, but he’s too preoccupied by me to be bothered. I bend to sweep my open mouth against his, the steel of his erection against me stirring an arousal that aches with over a year of longing. I slide all ten fingers over the fine hairs across the center of his abdomen and then the coarser hairs of his chest under his shirt and he obliges me by stripping it away.

His right side is marred by a ragged scar I’ve never seen and I'm not sure that I would have conjured it up. It hooks around from the back like the rake of a talon, though it’s been long healed and I follow it with an inquisitive fingertip. He slides his hands up under the comfortable nightgown I’m always wearing in my dreams, grazing up the length of my thigh, his thumb finding the inside of it, pressing into it.

“It was a terror. Got me without my armor on. You know how they can be, jumping out of the ground like a bloody nuisance,” he explains, prompting the full weight of the revelation to fall into place like an impossible comfort.

“It’s really you,” I whisper, holding Hawke’s face as the astonishment takes hold.

He nods and dives in for another kiss, deep and unbridled. His gentle hand continues over the rise of my hip bone and onward until it lingers at the swell of my breast and then the hardened tip, our breath catching simultaneously. He gathers and lifts the sheer gauze of my nightgown up over my head and I lean back so he can exalt my skin, every curve with his mouth, his beard sending chills tickling through me as it grazes across my flesh. He pauses to wrap a lock of hair around his finger and tugs lightly.

“You cut your hair,” he says in a playful callback. I glance down at it, my hair now only reaching just past my breast.

“Only a little. You grew yours out,” I point out.

“No sense cutting it in this cursed place. Easier to tie it back.”

“I always liked it longish,” I tell him, leaning in to delve into his grinning mouth again. We grind this way, his hard into my soft, gasps and moans alternating and crisscrossing as we remember the shape of each other. Separating briefly to rid ourselves of the last remaining barriers between us, we converge again, Hawke sliding into my silken depths like a missing puzzle piece. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him like this, his breath bathing the skin of my cheek and neck in warmth while he's sheathed to my very limits. I tuck my fingers into his tied up hair to clasp his head against me and whisper ‘I love you’ against his ear. He pulls back with a smile.

“Say it again,” he says, insisting we look at one another. I feel a little timid under such direct scrutiny, but I lift my gaze to oblige him, restraining my smile.

“I love you.”

“From the depths of your soul?”

“Well let’s not be hasty,” I laugh against his mouth. He looks at me from an inch away.

“You’re a horrible wretch.” The banter feels like sparks inside me. “And I love you. From the depths of my soul.” We take a moment to drink each other in, his survival and return relaxing the knot in my heart that’s been there since that unspeakable day. Hawke smirks again, that glimmer of ever brewing mischief gracing his smolder. Maker, how I missed this man.

“Can we get to it?” I ask with a saucy glance.

“Oh, are we not? I have to inform you that you are at least seventy five percent in charge right now, Rose.” I tilt my head to scold him with a nip on his nose and then grip him tightly within me, drawing myself off of him languorously, sinking down again. We fall into a rolling cadence, consecrating my treasured window seat with the force of our yearning.

It feels like another first time, a better one.

He handles my hip on my right and gently works his hand over my breast on the left as our pace gains intensity, rocking and churning in euphoric tandem. I drop my head back so he can press his lips to the underside of my jaw, leaning back to feel his full length pressed against my front, my pleasure gathering like a shimmer at the edges of my vision. Grasping me by the chin, Hawke fixes his eyes to mine, glossy and bright with unspilled tears, raw with emotion. Whatever he’s gone through, he’s been alone in the Fade for months, and if what he says is true, everyone else he’s encountered in dreams has ignored and dismissed him. I cradle his face in my hands to kiss him sweetly, earnestly, hoping the gesture adequately expresses my trust in him.

He clasps me against him, gasping and panting against the line of my shoulder, muttering my name, raking his teeth over my skin. We grow tacky and then slick with emergent sweat as we toil, clinging, claiming one another all over again.

My cries are practically bucked out of me and by his smolder and his breathless smile, I can see he’s waiting for me to trip over the edge of my climax before he allows himself to follow. As I lose control, my thrusts grow longer and sloppier, a tide of pleasure washing me away, overpowering my nerves until I fall limply back. Hawke catches me and pulls me to him, cursing as he shudders into me again and again, his fingers digging deep into my flesh until they suddenly relax and he draws me back into my mountain of pillows, a gorgeous pile of mush beneath me.

“Let’s do that again. Backward and inside out,” he gasps, his glazed eyes smiling ecstatically into mine.

“Backward, inside out and in a wheelbarrow,” I add, covering his face in kisses and then nestling down against him, reminded of the divinity of his cuddle. Soft and satisfied, he slips out of me and I fall to his side to settle into the crook of his arm with my leg draped over him lazily.

“Feels like we’re trapped in a glass of Cabot’s finest,” he says glancing about, then returning his look to me. He presses his lips into a sheepish smile as he stares up into the amber brume above us. “I was a little worried you’d forgotten about me to be honest.” His eyes are gently inquiring, and I catch his meaning.

“I could never.”

“What about–”

“It didn’t take. Not for long.”

“After all my hard work?” he teases me. I glance away, recalling how the Well of Sorrows had been the fracture that ultimately drove Cullen and I apart, how painful it had been in the aftermath desperately trying to retrieve something from the tatters of our relationship. How it’s muddling along as a stiff working relationship, our friendship still drifting somewhere outside our grasp, lingering feelings and history complicating our attempts to reclaim it. Hawke notices the slight withdrawal and presses his lips to my forehead.

“I suppose you read that ridiculous emergency love letter I wrote you.”

“It was ridiculous. And perfect,” I tell him.

“It was slapdash at best.”

“Addie thought it was the most romantic thing she’d ever read.”

“Maker, you let other people read it?”

“Well, you were dead. I didn’t think it mattered!”

“I’ll have my revenge eventually, you monster,” he threatens me with a mischievous look, stroking my shoulder. The letter remains folded around his scrap of scarf in my desk in Skyhold where it sat while the heaviest revelation gnawed at me daily.

“Did you really dream of me all those years ago? Pulling you from the dark?” I ask. Hawke looks down at our laced fingers, shockingly timid again and then back at me.

“I did.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“It would have seemed like an absolute ploy to get you into bed!” he protests. I wobble my head, acknowledging it. “Or worse, shockingly creepy.”

“Fair enough,” I say. “So are you going to tell me about it?” He lets out a long exhale like I’m in for a story and pulls me back on top of his chest again.

“I dreamed that I sat at the bottom of an abyss, hopeless and miserable. And you came down to me, that hair of yours drifting behind you, hand blazing with a green glow I didn’t understand at the time. I felt impossible lightness in that moment. So much that I chased it in all the years that followed.”

“And this is why you have a thing for redheads!?” I poke, tickling his sides in playful shock. He wrestles me under control with a smug look.

“Well I had a thing for you but I didn’t know how to find you except by your bloody hair. Nobody’s hand lit up like this. I didn’t even know you were real really. Imagine my reaction when I heard rumors that a woman stumbled out of the Fade with a hand marked by the Maker. And then again when Varric starts sending me the details.”

“But you didn’t come to Haven.”

“They would have made me Inquisitor! You know this. So I waited. And I had other reasons to come of course, but the burning curiosity I had about you had me rushing to Skyhold.”

“That whole time,” I snort to myself, “you knew something I didn’t.”

“I may have wanted you for years, but it was only in the abstract sense. It felt like a ridiculous fantasy. And then I met you,” he says. I ride his falling chest down as he sighs wistfully.

“Well it certainly explains some of your Maker forsaken brazenness,” I tease him, remembering his dogged and ultimately successful attempts to win my affections. Hawke grins and squishes my cheeks between his hands and draws me down for a smooch.

“You did save me, you know. You prodded me right out of that festering hole I’d been hanging around in for years. Like the dream– better than the dream,” he says. “But now I think it may have been more literal. I think you’re meant to come to the Fade to find me.”

The thought is overwhelming, but I pull myself together. “All right. Tell me how.”

“I will– but there are things I need to tell you first.”

“I have things to tell you too.”

“I know about Corypheus. We can have matching tankards engraved. ‘I killed Corypheus and all I got was this lousy mug.’”

“Do you remember the bargain I made with Flemeth?” I ask him and he perks up, tensing slightly.

“To drink. So… you drank? But what?”

“I drank from the Well of Sorrows. It made me– well I wouldn’t call myself a pawn exactly, but I’m subject to the will of Mythal. Of Flemeth.” “And I thought I got a raw deal with that witch. Maker. She’s– Mythal?” he processes momentarily and then looks at me again. “Are you all right?”

“It was another bargain. I was able to call upon her dragon to fight Corypheus at least. But who knows when she’ll call in more favors.”

“That’s not what I asked– are you all right?”

“Well, I hear a lot of voices now.”

“Rose,” he breathes, worry and sympathy and shock commingled.

“But I don’t understand them, so there’s that at least,” I add. He turns onto his side to face me and holds me tightly against him.

“Maker, what’s becoming of us,” he whispers, the lines in forehead deepening with distress. I burrow up against him, wishing we could simply merge. It would be easier that way.

“What did you want to tell me?”

“Might be easiest to show you,” he says, though he looks strangely anxious, like I might push him away again. Hawke releases my hand and holds it above us, snapping his fingers so that a flame the size of a lit candle manifests above his fingertips.

“Maker, Hawke. You're a mage now?” I ask. He waves it away again. He concentrates on the same hand and incants softly and the blue-green shimmer of a barrier flickers into being around us.

“Being in the raw Fade for a prolonged period has its effects. I learned a fair bit from the spirits in here. And I knew some from my father and Bethany. It’s surprisingly intuitive. At least the basics,” he says. “Not that I didn’t burn myself once or twice. But lucky for me, basic healing spells are easy to learn.” My finger finds the scar from the terror again and he catches my drift. “Yes, I healed that one myself. There’s a reason it’s rather monstrous.”

“Well it’s certainly the most interesting one,” I remark, brushing my fingers over it. I let slip a sigh I’ve been holding since Adamant, reality scratching from the background. “I wish I could just stay here.” Hawke scolds me with a look.

“If you stay here, I’ll be stuck in this odious place forever,” he says. “But I’ll come each night and we’ll make a plan. You’ll have to memorize the pieces and write them down when you wake. And you’ll have to find the others I contact. I��ll go to Bethany next since she’s already at Skyhold. And Varric doesn’t even dream so that will be on you to convince him.”

“Of course.” I press my face against his chest, relaxing into the cushion of his muscles and the safety of our complete intimacy. He’ll return. I lift my face again to confirm it.

“So you’ll be back?”

“If you’ll have me,” he says with a surprising degree of trepidation. I smack his chest and kiss him because it’s absurd. “I mean it Rose. There’s one last thing I have to tell you and you might change your mind.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Every love has its limits,” he says, his eyes lingering on me, the weight of whatever he’s about to tell me bearing down.

“Hawke. You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m nervous,” he says. “I’ve had to– I’ve had to do things. To survive in here. To contact you.”

“Do things?” My insides tense into a knot that claims me whole and then it tightens when he looks away, swallowing.

“Well. I’ve changed,” he says, frowning. I shake my head at his vague explanation. He’d already said he’d become a mage.

“I don’t care. All that matters is that you’re here.”

“It’s not just me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not alone,” he says, and the meaning twists inside me again, prompting me to look. He couldn’t possibly mean–

But when I search his eyes more deeply, beyond the sky blue devotion, I feel it. The gaze of a perfect stranger staring back. The gaze of something that isn’t him.

Hawke is an abomination.

And I wake myself, because Maker, I’m not sure I can do this again.

#hawquisitor #Hawke x Trevelyan #Garrett Hawke #Hawke in Fade #Fade Rescue AU #Rose Trevelyan #Theluckywizard #In the Shattering of Things #Purple Hawke #Blue-Purple Hawke #Warrior Hawke #Dragon Age Fan Fiction #Hawke x Inquisitor #Flangst #They really missed each other

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