#kick rocks i guess?

[omniblades-and-stars]

Omg pity party for the wip game pls 🥺👉👈

It's *drumroll* a Dragon Age fic (who's surprised?)

And because I'm quite sure I'll never finish it. I'll just cut off a piece for you.

She really didn’t mean be so sour. But she had always been prone to a rather stonewalled exterior already. She also certainly did not mean to trip on a rock in the dark on her way to the well and stub her toe so hard that she shouted, “Fenedhis! Stupid fucking, gods-damned rocks!” Her curses quickly melted into rapid, and quite loud, Elvhen curses as she petulantly dropped to the ground against the well.  The whole endeavor to fill her canteen all seemed rather pointless just then. So instead, she started plucking blades of the sparse, drying grass angrily, like they had done something to offend her personally. Easier to take her anger out on helpless blades of grass than try to wrestle an explanation that made any sense out of him. He just talked in circles about distractions, as though this … pain wasn't by far more distracting than anything they ever did together. She was more than capable of fighting off the end of the world and sharing her heart with someone at the same time, thank you very much.  In fact, by all benchmarks, she was under the impression that they worked well together. They fought intuitively on the battlefield, casting spells in frightening harmony, and he happily allowed her to bend his ear for information and advice about her job. Her job … not that she would ever be caught dead complaining to the shems about it, but she thought she made it quite clear to Cassandra and Leliana that she was not some prophet and she certainly was not a tool for the Maker. The very thought made her lip curl and her nose scrunch. And still, they named her Inquisitor without so much as a by your leave.  Bah, she was too old to be behaving like some lovesick welp. And she was definitely too old to pretend like being the Inquisitor meant anything other than it did: she was the only woman with the ability to close rifts, and she wasn't selfish enough to just wish them luck and be on her way. Because she would always do what must be done. They did not care that she didn't believe in the Maker.  They didn't care about the potential fallout of putting a Dalish apostate in charge. Her life was already in danger, and once this whole ordeal was over, she had an enormous target right on her head. The drying grass was coming out in clumps now as she stewed. Cold, hard dirt caked beneath her nails, and no, those absolutely were not tears sneaking out of the corners of her eyes. She barely noticed the dark boots approaching her as she moped against the well. How embarrassing.   "Valethen, you'll catch your death out here without a coat on. What … are you doing?" Blackwall asked kindly, catching her in the middle of throwing a handful of grass.  Like a child.  Embarrassing. "I believe Sera and Varric would call it a "pity party". I meant to get water, but I suppose I can't see clearly enough to make it to the well either," she said darkly without looking up. "I'm a grown woman pouting, Blackwall. It is very undignified."

[ruporas]

kiss (ID in alt text)

[spiritsong]

never not over the inherent romance of the vampire bite. your blood is swimming through the veins of your undead lover. your life granting them the mimicry of life. your existence is an affront to the cycle of nature and I don't care. I want to keep you here, walking upon the earth. take some of me into you and bloom.

[xylo-art]

It's her fuckig bench time

[ba1laur]

ok gran pa lets get you to bed

[cupiidzbow]

meant to post this much sooner but @rexscanonwife had a wonderful idea for a self vs. self insert meme!! I wanted to join in!! 🧡🌼

[jemandthesingalongs]

meeting leliana from a brosca/aeducan perspective is so funny, like you have 0, count it, 0 levels of knowledge about the chantry and here you are meeting some follower of that surfacer religion kicking ass as your very first experience with it then thinking to yourself "oh these topsiders know what the fuck this is about fuck yeah!!" only to then find out no, leliana is the exception not the norm

[kid-sid]

the fav 

[dummydove]

another bob

[anto-pops]

I'm not gonna lie, Ao3 being down all day feels a lot like the burning of the Library of Alexandria

[ghostcond]

doodle of mr cornmeal, my witchdoctor/aspiring technomancer

[justablah56]

I keep going to check the dndads tag every few hours and every time there's like . a maximum of 3 new posts . I am so :(

[toriliashine]

fuckin miffed that halsin is half a head taller than my tav >:(

[hero-of-the-wolf]

*climbs into your askbox*

So the good news is that I finished chapter 3 of It's Fine, Don't Worry About It.

The bad news is that Ao3 is down, so I have no idea when I'll be able to upload it.

man the whiplash I just felt—

curse you AO3!!! curse you!!!!!

[leofrith]

thinking about that concept art of milf eivor again

[yaekiss]

꩜ Room Content: No specified character, no smut, fluff, just spending a slow morning together ꩜ A/N: Just had this small scene stuck in my head for a bit so I wrote it down!

The morning sunlight streams in through the kitchen window and diffuses a soft orange glow to the room. Set in their hands, is your cup, as they busy themselves with preparing your morning beverage of choice. 

Theirs is already done and the matching cup has earlier been set on the table where they usually sit. (They like to make yours second because then it’ll be justtt a little bit closer to the prepared temperature since it doesn’t have to sit out longer.)

Before long it’s done and they set it at your spot at the table. Settling in their seat, they take in the tranquillity of the slow morning. It’s quiet until they hear you making your way down the hallway to sit with them at the table.

“Hey there, did you rest well?” They crane their head over to look as you yawn.

You give a noncommittal hum, sleep still clinging to you.

“Well, hopefully you’ll sleep better tonight,” they say, pushing your cup closer to you.

It’s nice, the two of you starting the day together. Tenderly domestic. And maybe their heart does a little squeeze when they realise how syrupy sweet this all is, how lovely it is to be with you.

Slowly, gradually, the morning languidly ticks by.

And maybe someone has an errand to run, some quick task out of your shared home. The both of you find yourselves at the doorway.

“Love you, see you later,” you give them a chaste kiss on their cheek, smiling.

“Yeah,” their gaze flits over your features, and the corners of their eyes soften, “Yeah, love you too, see you later.”