#more of these pls 🥺

[felassan]

Letters from Lovers

Transcriptions of the letters from the various gear store items. under cut for length.

Isabela:

“My dear Hawke, Do you know anyone with a flock of parrots? I'm trying to cheat on a bet with Varric and the stakes are exceedingly high. If you help me, I shall take you to that breathtaking beach you so crave. Free of ancient horrors, too. I think. I'd hate to take respite from all my adventures, but there are other ways to make the heart flutter. In fact I'm already imagining a few. Aren't you? Sailing there can be fatal, but Admiral Isabela will keep you safe. Are you interested? I would love to see you again. Yours, Isabela”

Morrigan:

“My love, Now before that grin reaches your ears, perish the thought that this letter was my idea. 'Tis Kieran who would not give me peace until I wrote to ask how you are faring. Regale us, if you please, with another of your tales that I might read to him in bed. He is particularly fond of those wherein you spur mischief whilst you save the day. Thank you for your most delightful gifts. I shall make certain to wear them the next time you come home. Dream of me until then, my Hero of Ferelden, and have a care. Morrigan”

Dorian:

“My dearest Amatus, Home is ever as it was: a glittering whirl of dancing, politics, and murder. I'm used to people staring daggers at me - I quite relish it, actually - but the glares seem to possess a new intensity since my return to Tevinter. Do they disapprove of House Pavus freeing its slaves while I work in the Magisterium to end slavery across Tevinter? Perhaps they simply covet my cheekbones, and who could blame them? Real reform will take time, but we're making inroads. I miss you terribly, Amatus, perhaps almost as much as you miss me. I treasure you and your belief in my work here. Yours always, Dorian P.S. I wouldn't take it amiss if you might send me another barrel of that dreadful Fereldan beer?”

Alistair:

“My love, How are you? Is it true that you recently killed darkspawn with only a mean glare and a pointy stick? Ferelden is ablaze with this rumor! You do give people so much hope. Tales of your heroism never fail to astonish me and almost ease the pain of going to sleep without you by my side. Almost. I can't wait to be with you again. I'd bring you some roses, you could give me a tour of the keep, we'd drink with the new recruits and then cuddle in a tent. Without the new recruits! Tent time is just for the two of us. I want to make that clear. Now excuse me while I practice my death glare and rummage through the dog's stash of sticks. I love you. Yours forever, Alistair.”

Tali:

“By the way, I left something for you up in your cabin. Go have a look.” - Tali’Zorah  --- “Dear Shepard,   As you may remember, I presented this picture frame to you as a gift on the Normandy. It was my way of expressing my admiration for you and our bond as comrades-in-arms. On the back of the metal frame, I've emblazoned a promise that will never fade - 'Shepard, wherever you go, I'm with you.'  I know it's not much, but...this is what I look like under the mask. I'm sorry if it's not what you were expecting. I know Quarian faces can be a bit...different. Every time you look at my picture, I hope you will be reminded of our adventures on the Normandy, from our battles against the Reapers to our intimate conversations in the privacy of our quarters.    I am not one to express my emotions openly, but thank you for being my friend, my confidante, and my inspiration. I look forward to many more adventures together.  Keelah se’lai,   Tali’Zorah”

Bonus:

Shepard's N7 acceptance letter, from Anderson:

“N7 Congratulations on your graduation From Captain David Anderson Shepard, When I graduated from the N7 program I had the honor of meeting Admiral Grissom, the man who inspired me to pursue a career in the service, and I never thought I’d feel prouder in my life. I was mistaken. Don’t get me wrong, it was a big day. An important day. But there’s something about welcoming driven young people like yourself into the ranks that’s also pretty damn satisfying. Your distinguished service record may have gotten you into this program - but it was your courage, integrity, and tenacity that’s enabled you to join an elite few. You represent the best of humanity, and I feel certain you’ll make the galaxy a better place. And I’m not the only one who feels this way. Becoming an N7 means the entire Systems Alliance is telling you one thing - we believe in you. Let me end by saying this. Welcome to the team Shepard. We know you won’t let us down. David Anderson Systems Alliance Interplanetary Combatives Academy N7 N7 Acceptance Letter”

[chaiichait]

Cardan getting over his drinking and drug addiction from the first book into just drinking moderately in the last book is possibly one of the greatest "show and tell" examples in tfota.

[kaeyaphile]

✨ 🌠 🐰 X A V I E R 🐰 🌠 ✨

[willowser]

ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ғᴏᴜʀs. werewolf kiri au.

you wake up under a mountain of furs.

light comes flickering from the hearth and, warm and welcoming as it is—you've no idea where you are.

you don't recognize the inside of the cabin; it's certainly not yours, nor is its layout that of any you’ve seen in the village. it's rather plain, with a singular window and table and chair and small fireplace, empty enough that you wonder how anyone could live comfortably with so little.

outside, the winter storm rages on, and there's a howl that cuts through the air that strikes bone-deep.

all at once your memories come back to you: dragged through town with bound hands and ankles, in only a thin night dress, screaming with all your might as the physician that delivered you into this world tied you to an old pine, along with the priest and the man that sold you blueberries in the spring.

people you knew and loved. had trusted.

the memories become hazy after a while, darkening with the night that crept in. you remember your body losing its feeling, but not its fear. you remember the violence of the storm, breaking trees and branches and uprooting the forest floor. you remember the horrible and hulking shape of something rising in the moonlight.

the door shoves open then, with enough force to send you scurrying back into the corner of the room. the blizzard tries to rush inside, but a man stands in its way, leaning back against the wood to keep the wind and snow out where it belongs. he's—big, as tall as the frame and just as wide, with thick hair that he's tied back, messy and low.

he's rosy in his cheeks and on the tip of his nose, as bright as the eyes that snap to you the moment you dare to breathe.

he doesn't say anything, at first. the bag of firewood he sets at his feet settles as he turns to you in interest, eyebrows raised. the clothes he's wearing look—old and worn, certainly not suitable for the storm roaring outside, with the holes and tears in the fabric. the boots he has on, however, seem heavy, have his steps echoing when he moves further into the room.

you pull your knees up to your chest and try to shrink away; beneath your thin dress, your skin has pebbled up, reminding you of just how vulnerable you still are.

your fear translates; the man stops on the other side of the little table, breathing in deeply before raising his hands up in what reads as surrender.

"hello," he finally says, and when you don't respond, he places a thick hand to his dark-haired chest and introduces himself as, "eijirou."

he nods emphatically and then repeats himself, as if to reinforce the name. you only grant him a small nod in return—and he smiles. it's wide, stretching across his face, and friendly, authentic enough that you question whether you're as damned as you thought, or perhaps saved.

how did you even get here? the question finally thaws out from the recesses of your brain and you take another look around the room as if the answer lies between the wood or nestled into the furs. this place looks too hand-crafted, you realize, all of it—and the man before you looks like he could move mountains, if he wanted to.

the chains that had bound you were iron-strong and didn't once budge in all your thrashing, before things went dark—but now you are inside by a well-maintained fire, warm and free, and all that remains of your ill fate are the indentions worn into your wrists.

he's still staring at you, the man. eijirou. he's not moved any closer, either, and when you meet his curious gaze, his lips twist and his eyes narrow. a thoughtful noise comes out of his mouth, like he's thinking of what to say or how to say it, and you're reminded that you don't recognize where you are, nor do you recognize him in the slightest.

big as he is, you don't think he could have carried you too far in a snowstorm such as the one still raging outside; are you still somewhere deep in the forest? in a cabin at the heart of the wood? saved by a man that somehow survives with so little out in the middle of nowhere?

"eijirou," you test the name on your lips and he perks up at the sound, attention snapping back to you instantly. you don't know if it's winter seeping through the floor, or if it's in the way that he watches you, that makes you shiver.

finally, he asks, "cold?" and when you nod, he slowly makes his way over to you, carefully, as if approaching a deer ready to run.

—and then he sheds his shirt with a quick shrug and holds it out to you.

you should want to look away, for decency sake, but you're—stunned by it, by him. there's a litany of scars that paint him in odd and worrisome places, but he stands tall and strong before you, unbothered by his own state. unbothered by the eyes that run over the expanse of his bare shoulders, the dark, thick trail of hair running down from his belly button, the ripples of muscle his loose shirt did well to hide.

you take it from him carefully and it's so warm, almost hot, that you press it to your face immediately to chase away the chatter of your jaw. the material itself, however ragged, is big enough to drape over your curled form like a blanket, and so you do just that. it carries the earthy smell of the woods, deeply woven into the fabric; pine and musk and something smoky.

with your cheek still pressed to his shirt, you look up to thank him, at last, but the words still in your throat at the minute changes of his face: still smiling, though sharper now, somehow, and his eyes are still wide with that keen, rapt interest—but the crimson to them has set like the sun and they've grown just as dark as the night outside.

[melontoyo]

☀️ A Prayer to Fleeting Lives 🌘

Illust for #humanart artbook, my oc Shunyah all my links

[waymond-wang]

THE CREATOR (2023) dir. Gareth Edwards ↳ Wanna play a game? It's called, "Save your friend Joshua from being killed by the fuckin' police".

[wannabemasterofwindintraining]

More designs

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

Roy and Dick being divorced parents and fighting for custody of the team is actually incredibly accurate to the og Teen Titans comics. Those two had beef on sight.

Also Wally being INCREDIBLY DISTRAUGHT over their fighting is fantastic and I love it.

"Don't drag Wally into this!" - Small bird man who doesn't want to lose his BFF in the divorce

[hakusins]

cw // cursing, foul language, ooc?

doing whatever it takes to survive ~

whitney x eri (my pc) for @digenerate-trash's apocalypse/forgotten AU. thank you for making such a fun AU idea !!! so the story is that eri is pregnant with kids and originally was from robin's faction, though there had been incidents that occurred to some other pregnant members of robin's faction and she decided it's not safe there anymore and needed to move to whitney's faction.

small note: i made the first two panels when the AU was still just a suggestion HBJERFBHJERF so there's a lot of inconsistencies, such as them being outside when thats supposed to be dangerous 🥹! just pretend they're in a room safe and away from windows.

[goliig68]

Blushing he tian is so precious to me🥹🫶❤️

[anopuff]

recent clanne doodles 💚💚

(timeskip version was designed by @hahahashagi on twitter!!)

[4o4notf0und]

JAMES DOUGLASS & EVERETT BLAKELY Masters of The Air — part 9

[puppyeared]

Once upon a time

[warpedpuppeteer]

Something something the crook of your shoulder and your neck is my home

(gif credits to @feelsforsterek @goforkinard @housewifebuck @bucktommys )

[strawbunnycakes]

This is me, btw. if u even care!!

[edenfire]

woah sparks are real!?✨️

oh no these two are my new obsession,, I just keep thinking about what could have been🥺💞

wallace, baby, come back to meeeee~~