nirikeehan - Tumblr blog

[nirikeehan]

Texts From Last Night: Hux & Kylo Edition 1/?

Created with the incredible stash of quotes from Texts From Last Night that @monocytogenes has collected over the years

[nirikeehan]

[nirikeehan]

The old man had sacrificed himself to save them. And it had taken seeing that for Han to question what would have happened if their situations had been reversed and he’d been the one in the position to make a sacrifice. Would he have done it? He wanted to believe that, yes, he would have.

A New Hope: The Princess, the Scoundrel, and the Farm Boy by Alexandra Bracken

[nirikeehan]

Domhnall Gleeson characters + children

[nirikeehan]

help them

[nirikeehan]

You suddenly switch bodies with your icon. On a scale of 1 to 10, (10 being the highest value) how well are you coping with that change?

[nirikeehan]

Kylo Ren mood cycle

Miserable

Angry

Falling in love with Rey

Miserable

Angry

Stupidly in love with Rey

Miserable

Angry

Pathetically in love with Rey

Miserable

Angry

Completely over Rey and ready to move on with his life completely, heartbreakingly in love with Rey

[nirikeehan]

Inquisitor Thalia Trevelyan

I painted my friend @nirikeehan's girl Thalia! Thalia Trevelyan of the Ostwick Circle. Here are some delightful fics featuring Thalia! Nightmare!AU Through A Glass, Darkly (Thalia x Cullen)

Post-trespasser second chance fic Kingdom Come (Thalia x Blackwall)

A Little Grace, and Some Elegance (Thalia x Cullen, Cullen & Samson)

[nirikeehan]

zero context wip game

hello! tagged by @dreadfutures, @rosella-writes, and @theluckywizard

If you’re tagged, make a new post and share 1-2 (a few) sentences from your most recent unposted WIP(s) with zero context – Let your followers guess!

Uhhhh my shit is all over the place lately so idk if this counts as "most recent." This bit hit me in the feels tho so I'm sharing.

He pauses, glancing sideways at her. “D’you always go out of your way to give excuses for shit people?”  Thalia bites her lip to keep from smiling, in spite of herself. “I’m told it’s a weakness of mine, yes. The problem is, I don’t usually see them as shit at all.”  He’s quiet for a long moment, his eyes staring, unseeing, at a far distant point. Then he looks at her and the corner of his mouth twitches upward. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you curse, m’lady.”  Relieved, Thalia laughs softly. “I think maybe you’re rubbing off on me, whoever you are.” 

Tagging if interested: @monocytogenes | @rowanisawriter | @samseabxrn | @oxygenforthewicked | and you!

[nirikeehan]

lmaooo unhinged thought but

"glad to see you haven't become food for the vultures" for the "Talenna and Thalia escape the Circle together" idea?

hehehehehehehehehe you can have a little bit of depressed Thalia and pissed off Talenna uwu ass a treat

for @dadrunkwriting

Rated T: For semi-graphic depictions of the cleaning of dead animals, ~750 words

Carrion | By Exalted_Dawn

“Glad to see you haven’t become food for the vultures.” Thalia started, her head snapping up from where she had buried it between her knees, cradled in the mud-stained, tattered skirts of her robes. Her face was sticky with dirt and tears, causing the strands of her currant-stained hair to cling to her cheeks and shroud her eyes. Through the shredded curtain of tangles, she could see the deep plum color of the Ansburg robes, torn at the knee by the clean cut of a dagger. 

Her lip wobbled and pulled tight, before she dropped her gaze again. 

“I see your plan to be found by the Templars has failed.” 

Maker, why did she have to come back? It had been three days since she left– she should have been miles away by now. Thalia wasn’t sure whether she should feel relieved or mortified. Though, she was probably too hungry, too tired, to feel much of either. 

She just wanted all of this to come to an end. 

“Why are you here?” she whimpered, the weight of her situation coming back to bare. 

Rather than an answer, something thudded to the ground at her feet. A dead rabbit.

“I figured you might be hungry.” 

She was. 

“No- why are you here?” she repeated again. Why would she come back? She should have been long gone. Returned to her clan or whoever was waiting for her. She had made it plenty clear that she had no intention of staying around, and Thalia, she… she wasn’t sure what she wanted. She still wasn’t sure. 

But then, she supposed most of her life had been decided for her. Stands to reason that she would not even be able to pick a direction to walk in.

Another wave of emotion surged against her chest, pressing so hard against her ribs that she felt like they might break. Her body ached with it, the need to simply break down and cry. But what good would that do her?

There was a scuffing of earth beside her. “What do you mean? We need to eat, do we not?” The sound of snapping branches shifted to snapping fire. The hollow thunk of wood being piled on wood. A campfire. 

Her body was bumped as the woman sat down beside her, grabbing at the rabbit and setting to work cleaning it. Well, if nothing else, now she had a good excuse to keep her face hidden. She wasn’t sure watching a rabbit get skinned would be good for her appetite. 

But that begged the question– 

“You came back just to feed me? Why didn’t you just keep the rabbit to yourself and keep traveling?” she mumbled. “I believe you said something about me ‘having an obligation to live for myself’...” The sharp snap of that memory echoed in the back of her head. A snarl. A slap. Disappointed, disapproving eyes paired only by a harsh, scarred scowl.

Now though, even the scoff she made sounded empty. As if she could not even be bothered with derision. “We both know there’s no Void-born way you would be able to survive out here on your own. I was the one that pushed you to leave that tower. It would leave a bad taste in my mouth if you were to die out here now.” 

Great. So she was just a burden then.And a pointless one at that. 

“You would have a better chance of making it back to your family if you just left me…” she grumbled. 

“Aye, probably, but I don’t want to deal with the guilt, and over a shem no less. I’ll make sure you live long enough to make it out of these woods and to some city or something. After that, if you want to give up and turn yourself over to the Templars, then that’s your choice. But until then, we’re stuck together. So do me a favor, shem-” 

Two more ‘thunks’ against the ground in front of her. One dull and the other metallic. 

Thalia lifted her head– it was another rabbit. And a knife.

She, Talenna, was looking at her again. Her eyes were sharp. Expectant. Impossibly, irrationally expectant.  

“Make yourself useful,” she said flatly, and turned her attention back to her own half-cleaned rabbit. “You might not care, but I have no intention of becoming carrion for the birds. And for that-” 

There was a disgustingly wet tear. Talenna took a leg and stabbed it onto a stick. Ew. 

“-we need to eat.” 

[nirikeehan]

Gorgeous portrait of Eilan by @theluckywizard !!! I am so spoiled to have received this as a gift!! Thank you! 🥰😭 She's lovely!!!

[nirikeehan]

I was going to give you a Metrion prompt but this one jumped out and punched me in the face for some Samson/Thalia, sorry. "Sillage (French) - (n.) The scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone’s perfume." from the Otherworldly Prompts pt 1

THANK YOU I LOVE THIS. this is the start of a scene between Samson and Vivienne in nightmare!au, but I promise Thalia does factor in. The Red Templars have captured Vivienne and Samson intends to grill her for info on where she let Cullen and Thalia escape to.

WC: 542

For @dadrunkwriting

---

The cells in Comte Cock-For-Brains’ dungeon were down too many bloody flights of stairs. Circular stone stairs that wound and wound, leaving Samson dizzy once he reached the bottom. He took another surreptitious shot of red while his retinue were collecting the keys from the gaoler, a fat old bastard who had two teeth and was partially deaf. He’d manned the lord’s dungeons for nigh on fifty years, and was going to make them wait fifty more out of sheer incompetence. 

The swallow steadied Samson, at the least. He looked to Barris. “And she hasn’t been forthcoming under questioning?”

“No, ser.” In the damp dark, Barris’s one red eye gave off an unsettling glow. “She’s stymied three interrogators thus far.”

Samson sighed. “If you want anything done, you’ve got to do it yourself. Come.” 

At last the gaoler produced the keys, inserted one into a comically large lock, and swung open the circular dungeon door. Beyond lay a row of cells, dripping and smelling of mold. Only one sconce was alight, down near the end where the prisoner awaited. 

“Wait here,” Samson told Barris and the other guards. He took the key, took the torch off the wall, and approached the cell. 

He paused by the door. A faint scent hung in the air, sweet and floral. Samson’s pulse quickened, for he was once again transported back to the cave, with Thalia so near. He looked around, knowing she could not possibly be here, but hoping all the same. The reverie vanished like the mirage it was; before him, through the bars, sat a different woman entirely. 

Days in the bleeding dark, and she still smells like her perfume. It made sense now. She’d had Thalia in her clutches, dressed up, they said, like a doll. She’d probably lent the girl her fragrance. In the corner of the cell, she sat with regal posture, watching him like a cat on the prowl.

“General, darling, you look dreadful,” said Madame de Fer. 

Annoyance flooded Samson, because she still looked as beautiful as ever, even in fetters. Her smooth, black skin, sharp cheekbones, full lips and long, lithe body — Samson would have paid top coin to bed a woman like Vivienne, once upon a time. Now, sadly for them both, that era had passed, but her beauty still infuriated him. 

“What’s a matter, Iron Lady, you don’t like my ensemble?” Samson smirked, dusting off a lapel with his free hand. He thought he cut a striking figure, personally: the black tailcoat, the plum-colored ruffled sleeves. All them damn Orlesian fops could prance around in their finery, why not him? 

“Oh, it’s not your outfit,” Vivienne said, chuckling. “But I certainly hope you don’t think you’re fooling anyone with it.” 

A pity, really, that Vivienne hadn’t taken his deal. She had a sharp tongue and the wit to go along with it. If Samson had managed to retain her as an ally, how different things would be right now. He sighed, unlocked the cell door, and stepped inside. He tucked the torch into a notch on the wall and looked down at Vivienne as she blinked in the new, bright light. “You’re not in any position to be criticizing me right now, Madame de Fer.” 

[nirikeehan]

A matching set! ETA some detail shots

[nirikeehan]

it's always high camp when you get into a new piece of media and you're like "ok, even though this character is seemingly designed to make me froth at the mouth, i will resist, i will stay strong, i won't become a parody of myself" and then you watch the character for about five seconds and you imprint on them

[nirikeehan]

The inquisitor needs these bottles for moral support, cullen.

[nirikeehan]

« I can give no more to the Templar Order, nor it to me. The Maker has shown me a new path; I must take it. »

Cullen's story is truly impressive! The path he took from a young templar traumatized by the terrible events in the Ferelden Circle to the Commander of the Inquisition army. I'm inspired by his example.

For the symbolism, I chose the Kinloch Hold, surrounded by water and shrouded in flames. It's destroyed just like Cullen's sword, symbolizing his state of mind. Lyrium flows behind him, a problem he has yet to face. And I really like the “lion” aesthetic in his armor, it’s a wonderful image that shows us his inner strength. And just look at these wonderful cat eyebrows! ^_^

[nirikeehan]

I’ll wait, cat’s got my bait

Severed on a plate

Worst would be to regret

What I said

Quiet as the blood on my bed

Quiet as the blood on my bed

Below the clavicle

Below the clavicle

—Eartheater