i can't stand the sight of you

Super Angsty Starters
  • "You...did this?"
  • "I can't believe you."
  • "You can hate me, you can dislike me but how can you cheat on me?"
  • "I'm dying..."
  • "She/He still loves you."
  • "I just want to go home..."
  • "You left me..."
  • "I can't forgive you for this anymore."
  • "I'm saying goodbye."
  • "I'm not good enough for you."
  • "This is goodbye."
  • "Was this just a game to you?"
  • "You merely played me like a fool."
  • "Goodbye."
  • "You're pathetic."
  • "Get out of my sight."
  • "You're nothing but a toy in a game of life."
  • "You used me?"
  • "You're so easy to manipulate."
  • "I never loved you."
  • "Don't give me that look."
  • "I can't stand you."
  • "Goodbye...my almost lover."
  • "I would have loved you."
  • "Everything fell apart and I can't pick up the pieces anymore."
  • "I think this is where I should say goodbye."
  • "We never had it all."
  • "...Everything hurts."
  • "Go away!"
  • "I don't want to see you anymore!"
  • "Let me go."
  • "To think I almost loved you."
  • "You cheated..?"
  • "You love someone else other than me anyway."
  • "Why do you even bother with me anymore?"
  • "I'm not worth your time."
  • "Get out of here."
  • "Get away from me!"
  • "Don't touch me every again!"
  • "I hate you."
  • "Don't leave me."
  • "Please, I'll do anything!"
  • "Don't go..."
  • "We can talk about this!"
  • "I can't loose you again."
  • "Don't you have more important things to attend to?"

DannyMay Day Two: Fire/Ice

…Danny was in a particularly good mood today. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the Box Ghost was safely tucked away inside the Fenton Thermos™. He was on his way home to drop off his school bag and head over to Tucker’s place for a fun filled weekend of video games and junk food. Reaching for the doorknob, the light breeze ruffling his hair made him smile, nothing could ruin this day. 

His Ghost sense went off, Danny forgot about Murphy’s Law. 

Tearing open the door expecting the worst possible situation to end all situations he comes face to face with none other than Vlad Masters. It’s worse than he could have ever imagined. Several emotions passed through him, confusion, disbelief, anger, suspicion, dread, exasperation. He decides to stick with anger, anger is easy when it comes to Vlad. Mustering up his best glare he marches up to where his parents and Vlad are sitting in the living room. 

“What is HE doing here” 

Danny angrily says while pointing at Vlad, all the while glaring at the man with enough intensity to curdle milk. 

“Danny-boy! Vladdy here dropped by to say hello!” 

Jack responds jubilantly and unaware of the uncomfortable tension in the room. Maddie, on the other hand, was scowling just as hard as Danny. They made eye contact and agreed that this was very unpleasant and suspicious. 

“Hello Daniel, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d pop in on my best friend” 

Every smooth word dripping with sarcasm and the smugness of a man who’s victory is assured. Grinning he continued, all the while looking Danny directly in the eyes.

“I just came up with a new ghost theory and I just had to come share it with the best ghost hunters in all of Amity Park.” 

Feeling pleased with himself he grins even wider at the brief unease that passes over the teen’s expression. Danny schools his features and just as he is about to say something The Fenton Ghost Alarm™ goes off. 


Jack yells as he grabs a Fenton Bazooka and sprints out the door. Maddie looking torn between following Jack and staying to keep an eye on Vlad. In the end, she knows Jack can’t do it alone. 

“Vlad, you stay here and watch Danny for me.” 

She says as she grabs a Fenton Anti-Ecto Net™ zooming towards the door. Stopping long enough to whisper to Danny

“Don’t let him out of your sight, and don’t let him in the lab”

Danny nods, satisfied with the determination in his eyes, she jumps out. The moment the door clicks into place a bright light erupts, Danny Phantom taking a defensive stance.

“Alright Fruit-Loop, what do you really want” 

Vlad sneers at the nickname, stands up and brushes imaginary dust off his already immaculate suit.

“Nothing really Little Badger, just thought of stopping by and checking up on you and your mother” 

Danny crosses his arms and looks about ready to gag

“First of all EWW… and second, we both know you live off of ulterior motives, so out with it" 

“Quite perspective of you Daniel, I’m extremely impressed” 

He sighs, the exasperated expression on his face only adds to his already “holier than thou” attitude. 

“I did actually have a new ghost theory, one that you will absolutely love 

Trying his best to hide the dread creeping up on him, Danny lights his hands with an ectoplasmic green glow in preparation for the inevitable battle. Vlad crosses his arms behind his back.

“Did you know about Ghost Cores Daniel?” 

At the knowing look in the teen’s eyes, he grinned like the cat who ate the canary. Check Mate.

“I have been studying them and their properties, and uncovered a very interesting piece of information that will change the way we think about ghosts” 

“And by studying you mean secretly gathering data by spying on me?” 

Danny quips sarcastically with a scowl and a level of done-ness that only a teenager can muster. 

“Details young Daniel, anyway, you have an ice core which is what allows you to utilize your ice powers. This is the reason your ghost sense comes in the form of an icy breath from deep within your lungs. However, there are different cores depending on each Ghost…” 

“Why are you telling me this, I doubt that it’s to help me understand my own powers” 

Vlad continues as if he never heard Danny. 

“…Some have neutral cores, without any extraordinary power, others have electro cores….” 

Suddenly looking Danny directly in the eyes. An almost manic grin threatening to split his face in half. He slides over real close with the speed that only a ghost could achieve. Danny, startled by the abrupt movement, stumbles back a few feet and falls on his back. 

“And some ghosts…” 

He lifts his hands so they are within Danny’s line of sight. Then they spontaneously burst into flames. 

“…have fire cores” 

Danny’s eyes grow comically wide, taking in Vlad’s flaming hands, hungrily absorbing the oxygen in the air. However, Danny just stares as he slowly floats back up into a standing position. Dumbfounded and unable to decide what to do or say. 

“Quite impressive don’t you think?” 

“…Actually, yeah, that’s really cool”

mismagireve  asked:

I got a Bisharp recently from a trainer in Snowbelle, and I'm starting to get a little concerned about his behavior. He can't stand it when I leave his sight for very long, despite Bisharp being fairly independent from their trainers, and while I'm admittedly thankful he hasn't tried to challenge me for leader of the pack, he shows an awful lot of submissive behavior whenever I need to raise my voice or punish him. Is it possible he was mistreated by his previous trainer?

It’s possible, but certainly not the only cause.

Is it just you and him? Bisharp thrive only in groups, and while they certainly are flexible in what the group consists of, they become stressed and anxious in a group of four or fewer (including the trainer).

What kind of environment do you now live in? Adjusting from the fairly quiet, low-population Snowbelle to, say, a forested urban environment could be worrisome, and he may be clinging to what’s familiar (you).

Is he young? A lot of Bisharp become more aloof as they mature, but ones that evolve early can be clingy. They may also be over-eager to show remorse but, like a lot of us, they learn social expectations and self-confidence with age.

Generally speaking, abused Bisharp become hostile and evasive, not clingy or submissive, so he may just be struggling with the new lifestyle, trainer, and group dynamics. Give him some time, but keep an eye on him.

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Write what You want to write most. This is a stand-in for the ask you secretly wish someone would ask. If you can't think of it now that's fine.  Hold onto this ask until one day inspiration just pops up, the day you think oh wouldn't that be cool if???  Remember this ask, it is for that story.

Just published as technically not a prompt rather just something I wrote.

Genji had never felt like this.

He felt his body shiver, tearing itself apart at the sight of you. Your gentle footsteps shook his heart free from its dusty perch and his knees quake with pure emotion. Your lilting smile ripped his essence apart as his soul ached at your joy, wanting to absorb your soul with his.

Years ago when he still had that cocky suaveness he would have sidled up to you, eyebrow arching as he offered you multitudinous pleasure and debauchery. Now he was quiet, his loudness shattering and gently eased back together unlike the mash of metal and man Overwatch had turned him into. His heart ached rather than his body, seeking a different sort of need.

Zenyatta gently soothed him over, giving gentle advice. 

A gift here, a compliment here. 

With Zenyatta’s advice, he gently wooed you, opening your heart to the same multitude of emotions that Genji felt. 

With hushed whispers you gently brushed a hand across his cheek, Genji pressing the scarred skin into your palm. With a soft hush rustling over the pair of you, he leant forward, body screaming with joy as he pressed his lips against yours. He felt reborn as you leant into it, your eyelids flutter shut at the pure feelings the cyborg brought out in you.

anonymous asked:

Jeremy who can't stand the sight of blood, and when rich scrapes his knee Michael tries to keep Jeremy from looking but is too late and Jeremy drops like a rock-pm. Ajdosjoseid I'm sorry lol

@prompt-master you slay me. I fell in love with this the freaking second I read it. It’s like you just know just what I like, sweets. 

Here’s a tiny little ficlet! 

When Rich slips off his skateboard and falls hard to his bare knees, Jake laughs a bellowing laugh that garners Jeremy and Michael’s attention from their shared spot on a bench not too far away. 

The two approach, with Michael only a half-step faster, and Jake greets them with a breathy “hi” as he doubles over with his hands braced against his knees to suck in enough breath to compensate his near constant laughing. 

When Rich groans and shifts until his legs are stretched out in front of him, Michael spots the blood sprinkling Rich’s right knee before anyone else, and he’s moving before Jeremy can get a breath in. He whips around and begins shoving at Jeremy’s shoulders in a forceful attempt to get the brunet to turn around. 

“Jake can handle this,” Michael says through clenched teeth as he desperately pushes at Jeremy, but Jeremy is a silent saint at heart, and he fights against Michael’s tense hands. 

“But, what if Rich is hurt?” Jeremy presses as he cranes his neck to try and get a decent glance at the scene. “He hasn’t gotten up yet. Rich?” 

Jeremy, Michael realizes, is surprisingly strong when persistent, and Michael struggles to keep Jeremy grounded before him. He grasps at Jeremy’s shirt, fingers tightly curling around the loose fabric in a last minute attempt to keep the brunet from side-stepping around him. 


Jeremy utilizes his long legs to step far enough out of Michael’s reach, and he only has to tug slightly to free himself from Michael’s tight grip. He takes two steps toward Rich but freezes suddenly, missing Michael’s deep-set groan as his heart begins to thump loudly in his ears. 

Jake is closest, and when he finally manages to stop laughing, he turns toward Rich, eyes doing a quick sweep over the boy before coming to a stuttering halt at Rich’s knee. 

“Holy shit,” Jake breathes out. “Is that-”

“Blood,” Jeremy finishes weakly just before his legs give out from underneath him as his entire world shoots to black. 

Michael dives forward and grabs at Jeremy’s listless body, and the two topple to the ground, with only Michael moaning lightly in pain. He recovers quickly enough and shifts Jeremy around in his arms until he can see the brunet’s ghostly pale face that gives off not even the slightest hint of color. 

“Shit,” Michael mutters under his breath as he begins lightly patting Jeremy’s clammy cheek in a soft attempt at rousing the brunet. 

“Yo, is he good?” Jake asks, moving a little closer to hover behind Michael with Rich following suit only seconds after him. 

Michael doesn’t look from Jeremy as he acknowledges the two. “He can’t handle the sight of blood.” 

Both Jake and Rich look toward Rich’s scraped knee that, while seemingly red and irritated, has already stopped bleeding, with only small specs of blood drying against the small cut. 

“It’s not even that bad,” Rich points out as he gives his leg a small shake to rid the lingering pain from the fall. 

Sighing, Michael pats Jeremy’s cheek a little harder, palm hitting skin with a quiet smack, and Jeremy’s groans under the touch and tries to weakly jerk his head away. 

“He really, really can’t handle the sight of blood,” Michael supplies, almost absently, just as Jeremy’s eyes flutter open. 

Baby Padmé asking about her Father's Scar

@persimonne sorry it took so long! I liked your suggestion to write this but it took a while to get to it. I hope this is okay!

Padmé examined her father’s face with extreme curiosity. Quietly tracing his features and pinching his ears and nose. Kylo sat still, obediently allowing his precious child to yank at his face. He twitched and grimaced with every rough grab, but otherwise allowed Padmé to do as she pleased. Anything to keep her happy.

Rey sat watching from across the room, curious as to why her daughter suddenly took such a keen interest in Kylo’s face. She watched her child glance back and forth between her parents, and then pat her own cheeks-

Oh, she was curious about her looks.

“I have Mama’s eyes.” She stated matter-of-factly, expression serious. Kylo cracked a smile, and nodded.

“Yes, I believe I’ve told you that?” He asked, smiling brightly. Padmé pouted, and crossed her arms across her chest. “Her attitude as well, you seem to have inherited.” Rey rolled her eyes, and smirked in their direction.

“You call it attitude, I call it backbone.”

Padmé carefully traced Kylo’s face as he laughed, fingers lingering on the scar across his face.

“How did you get hurt, Papa?”

Kylo glanced over at his wife, who was now looking particularly guilty as she fiddled with the papers in front of her.

“Papa was being stupid. So Mama had to smack some sense into me.” Rey bit her lip, and looked over, examining his scar carefully. Padmé glared back at her mother, again angry for her past actions against her precious father.

“Mama sounds mean. Why would you hurt Papa?”

“In my defence, he did kidnap me, throw me into a tree, and everything.” Rey called over, trying to meet Kylo’s eyes. Kylo smirked, clearly not as mournful as his wife.

“We all make mistakes. Papa deserves this scar. As I said Padmé, papa was being very stupid.“ Rey shifted uncomfortably, and stood up to join her family. “Besides, I like it. Makes me look intimidating.” Kylo declared in a dark voice, practically a low growl. Padmé stared back blankly, unimpressed.

“Papa isn’t scary.” Kylo gasped, hand to his chest in an over-dramatic fashion that was so starkly different from how he usually acted. He always seemed to slip into this persona when Padmé asked serious questions.

“What? Papa isn’t scary?! I’ll have you know I’m the scariest monster in the galaxy!” He declared, standing up and swinging Padmé into the air above him, sending her into a fit of giggles. “People across the system fear Papa’s name, and quake at the sight of him!”

Rey flinched back. Kylo smiled goofily at her, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“People don’t know better.”

mintyleavess  asked:

Ribombee(askaribombee) @ Asche: ...your eyes are mesmerising... -he pauses for a second before coming to his senses- ah..! do you have a favourite berry?

Asche: “And, as for my favorite berry… I don’t really have one. I’m pretty neutral about all of them- I think it is due to my nature?”


Asche: “I just like its form and colors, It’s so pleasant to my sight…”

<Asche’s reference has been updated!>


Yet another dark rp starter list
  • a few quotes, some straight from my brain, all possibly quite angsty
  • "I'm going to kill you now, I hope that's alright."
  • "Put the gun down!"
  • "You can't hurt someone who's already dead."
  • "I forget you."
  • "Don't say goodbye, I hate goodbyes."
  • "I can't believe I ever loved you."
  • "Shut up!"
  • "You've turned yourself into a monster!"
  • "I never wanted to hurt you."
  • "I can't stand the sight of you."
  • "Please, take whatever you want, just don't shoot them!"
  • "You traitor!"
  • "I should have expected this from you."
  • "How could you?"
  • "They're gone... I can't believe they're gone..."
  • "What the fuck did you do!?"
  • "We thought we were the good guys."
  • "What's the difference between a soldier and a monster?"
  • "I want their head on stick!"
  • "I can't believe you cheated on me!"
  • "Tell me why you did it."
  • "Just looking at you makes me feel sick."
  • "You're my prisoner now, and I'm never letting you go."
  • "If you scream I'll shoot."
  • "I don't want your money, I want revenge."
  • "It's your fault!"
  • "You're under arrest for first degree murder."
  • "We're going to die here aren't we?"
  • "This is going to hurt. A lot."
  • "I'm afraid it's terminal."
  • "You have 5 minutes to convince me not to kill you."
  • "You're no longer my child."
  • "The doctors say I only have a few more months."
  • "I know you've started drinking again."

pedro--parker  asked:

1/2 okay but siriusly (i couldn't help it) everyone knows lily and sirius are like brother and sister i.e. ride or die, love/hate, loves them or can't stand the sight of each other, lily and remus are like soft tea-and-books friends who make dry remarks and sarcastic jabs and everyone else and lily and peter... i guess he's kind of mom friend, like, whoa, lily, he's not worth it, now lets go to the kitchens and get snacks

2/2 and before jily happened, james and lily was kind of, that ideas stupid potter… let me fix it there now don’t get caught i cant ruin my reputation for being perfect. dont you mean prefect? no i mean perfect

i have so many feelings?? abt these friendships….. like, sirius and lily are definitely Fire and Fire with their blessed™ hair and sharp replies which could cut through diamond and fucked familial relationships.. (which, incidentally, is how they first bond) & sirius Hates the fact that james is high key head over for heels for lily, because it means he gets less face time with JP and he lives for face time with JP, but then he and lily bond and she’s?? like?? cool?? n now james is the jealous one 

remus is known as Mr Potty Mouth when all werewolf puns have run out and he and lily have a shocking dictionary of expletives which would probably give mr&mrs evans a heart attack… but they’re also both ppl who would only ever swear in the appropriate situation (unlike sirius who does not give a flyin fuck where or when he swears) & they def bond over books! but mainly just both having muggle experience n even tho remus doesn’t watch it, he is the only one who has a vague comprehension abt doctor who and also they have this running joke abt les miserables (until it stops being a joke, empty chairs @ empty tables amirite) and lily n remus have tea discourse but they would never admit that to anyone (””how many sugars remus??????””)

peter & lily bond over their shared love for gobstones even tho lily is Bad and peter is The Best™ and he constantly tries to teach her some strategy, but, nah, lily hasn’t got time for that… and lily helps him with notes and understanding stuff bc james and sirius speak too quick for him + remus is always behind anyway + lily just explains it so he Gets It…. they have a bet abt who can prank james&sirius the most times with j&s guessing it’s them (so far peter is winning)

the fucking Puns that their friendship had…. like, all of them did it, but especially James and Lily would try to one up him and It’s ‘’’Just Not™ Going to Work™ Evans, pls stop embarrassing yourself’’’’ but Yes! here for lily who helps out occasionally with pranks but only to improve them and not if they hurt anyone and only if she knows it’ll make potter look at her in Awe™

Imagine Bofur being in love with you but thinking you're in love with Fili until he can't stand it anymore and confesses

For intangible-musings :)

A/N: I hope you don’t mind but I chose to do it from Bofur’s POV just to mix things up a bit, hope you still like it! (I like to imagine he’s telling this story to his grandkids)


Boy was that a battle and a half! My limbs were trembling from sheer exhaustion both mental and physical. My clothes seemed to be completely covered in dirt, blood and sweat which didn’t make for a pretty sight. I reached my hand up shakily for my hat to fan myself off but when it only came into contact with the air I realised I’d dropped my hat not five minutes into the fight whilst trying to defend myself against a particulary gruesome orc, i mean all orcs are gruesome but this one just took the biscuit.

Keep reading

tfw one of your oc’s core powers just completely breaks any kind of challenge and tension you’re trying to build in your story

nerd-dgirl  asked:

I wake up with a splitting headache, still in my Lioness uniform. But my team is nowhere in sight. I try to reach Nightwing or Kori in the coms but only get static. I stand up shakily and look around. This place looks familiar, but somehow it's not. And I can't reach Superman either. Something must have gone wrong on the mission. I tense up, sensing a hidden presence nearby. But a quick mental scan tells me its a she, and she can be trusted. So i decide to speak. "Who are you? Where am I?"

I hear you speak as I’m invisible hiding from you. “Cat and you are at my apartment.” I quickly rush over and close the bedroom door that way you don’t see Dick’s Nightwing costume on the floor.

The Jenkinsian Principle

In which Solas and Twigs try to reach some common ground.

“Maker take you!” cried Cassandra as she dispatched the last of the Venatori in Nazaire’s Pass. Panting, she hefted her weapon back in its sheath and turned to her companions. “Leo of Lucien Bay has been spotted on the other side of the canyon; we could make it by nightfall if we hurry.”

“There might be a small problem with your plan, Seeker,” rasped Varric. “The Herald is down for the count.” He gestured to where Solas was tending to the prone warrior.

“UGH. Again?” Cassandra shook her head in exasperation. “It is a wonder she has gotten this far in life. How bad is it?”

Solas shook his head. “Quite serious. She will need a thorough and complicated healing. I can handle it, but perhaps you could ask the forward scouts for help setting up camp.”

“I don’t know if I could manage to pitch a tent with her around,” quipped Varric.

Cassandra and Varric regarded each other with open dislike and Cassandra made a disgusted noise. They stalked off to find the scouts.

Solas grasped the unconscious elf by her armpits and dragged her to the shadow of a sheltering rock. There would be a sandstorm coming through soon, as evidenced by the approaching clouds off in the distance. He hoped Varric and Cassandra could put aside their differences long enough to make short work of their errand. He unbuckled the Inquisitor’s heavy vanguard armor to find that the scale maille coat had been hacked through in two places. Peeking out were large, ragged gashes. He picked out stray pieces of maille, but as he did, the blood spilled out more rapidly. He cast hasty stasis barriers to stem the flow while he addressed his main concern: The elf had taken a blow to the head that worried him greatly. He probed her skull with deft fingers, finding areas where the nerves inside had gone dead. Summoning trace amounts of lightning, he sent them through the nerve passageways, awakening them and causing the synapses to fire again.

“If only this could make you smarter,” he murmured to himself.

“Hey… I’m right here, you know,” croaked the injured elf, brought to consciousness by Solas’s shock therapy.

“I apologize. That was unkind of me.” Solas turned his attention to Twigs’s wounds, gently pulling her maille coat off and pressing his hands into them to magically repair her damaged insides. Twigs writhed in pain, but did her best to keep from crying out. “Here, bite down.” Solas undid a strap from his satchel and put it between the Herald’s teeth. She grimaced and clamped down as the elven apostate worked on closing her wounds.

“It’s fine, Solas…” Twigs gasped between bouts of magic. “I know I’m not the brightest burning torch. Thank you for your help.”

“We are becoming too familiar with this scenario, you and I. Have you thought about asking Cassandra to teach you some blocking techniques? Some defense and strategic use of health potions might help you avoid this in future.” He applied more pressure, and Twigs tensed, biting down harder. “Perhaps ranged attacks?”

The magic let up, and Twigs relaxed a bit.

“Oh, Solas. I couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. With an arrow, anyway. I’m a terrible hunter. The only reason my clan kept me around was because I’m reasonably good looking and probably good for breeding.”

“That can’t have been the only reason, Inquisitor.” Warily, he scrutinized the horizon. “There’s no sign of Varric and Cassandra yet, but I’m afraid the sandstorm is coming our way. We will have to find better shelter than this.”

“We passed a mine not far from here. Are you done?” Twigs rose to her feet, but saw spots in front of her eyes and felt her legs give way beneath her. Solas caught her before she toppled over entirely.

“For now, yes. But you should not try to walk, Inquisitor. You are too weak and you might damage yourself further. Hold a moment.” The apostate went to shoulder his pack and sighed, noting that the Dalish elf had bitten clean through the strap. He tied the two ends together as best he could. “I’m afraid I must carry you. I shall try to be gentle.” Anticipating the onslaught of the harsh sands, he covered his mouth and nose with a scarf, scooped the lithe-limbed elf into his arms with some effort, and began in the direction of the abandoned mine.

“My armor…”

“Useless now, I’m afraid. We can come back for it later, if you like.”

“Stupid Vints and their mauls. I crafted that suit from scratch!”

“I am still mystified by your approach to combat, Inquisitor. Why join the melee if you are so accident prone? Careless, even?”

“Well, if you paint with a big brush, you cover more surface. If I just keep swinging the battleaxe, I’m bound to hit something.”

“There is a strange wisdom in that, I suppose.”

“Wisdom, eh?”

Solas looked down at the weakly grinning elf in his arms, unsure of whether to encourage her, when she let out a chuckle that turned into a wet, bloody cough.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to take your place as the Inquisition’s resident scholar. I have no more place in your Fade-a-torium than I do in Josephine’s office or Leliana’s rookery.”

“We are almost there, but we must make haste,” warned Solas, looking over his shoulder. The roar of the sandstorm was becoming louder and closer. He began to run. It was a difficult task carrying the Inquisitor, who pressed her face into his shirt and gripped him tightly around the neck. Though lean, she was not light. What she lacked in intellectual muscle, she made up for in the training yard. She was dense in more ways than one. The sand overtook them a few paces from the opening to the mine, almost knocking Solas off his feet. He staggered, blown about by the harsh wind and cutting sand, swaying a bit before ducking and tumbling into the mine. Twigs rolled ungracefully as Solas cast an elemental barrier to keep the sand out. He collapsed against the wall of the tunnel, exhausted.

“I am sorry for dropping you, Inquisitor.” Solas removed his scarf and slid into a seated position.

“Should we be worried about Varric and Cassandra?” the elf gritted, propping herself up next to Solas.

“Undoubtedly. I hope they found the forward scouts and were able to take shelter. Are you alright? I believe you require further healing, but I admit at this point it would take more focus than I have.”

“You’ve done plenty, Solas. You might want to take a load off.”

“I thank you for your consideration.” Solas sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his chest, letting his head hang forward. And uncomfortable silence followed, and finally Twigs could take it no more.


“Yes, Inquisitor?” Solas replied wearily.

“I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye… I wanted you to know that I don’t take you or your knowledge of the Fade for granted.”

“I would believe it more if you did not fall asleep during our conversations, lethallan.” Solas regarded his idiot companion with a wry smile.

“I do try- It’s interesting, I swear! There’s just something about your voice when you…” Twigs yawned. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. I’m so tired.”

“As am I. It has been a long day. It could be hours before the storm passes. It would do us well to rest a while.”

Within a quarter of an hour, both elves were fast asleep. Twigs’s head had come to rest on Solas’s shoulder, but her mind was far away, wandering the Fade. Her astral self felt pulled through the green mists by the crackling energy emanating from her marked hand. The fog lifted slowly as she pressed forward, revealing a snow-covered village, abandoned by all who had lived there. Those who remained lay scattered and burned where they had died. Skeletons of broken trebuchets stretched toward the sky. She recognized this place.


“Haven is familiar. It will always be important to you.” Solas’s voice came from behind Twigs, startling her.


“I sat beside you while you slept, studying the anchor…” Solas explained the events after the conclave, and for once, the Inquisitor listened attentively.

“You changed… everything.” His eyes narrowed and burned into her, and, not for the first time, she was afraid of him. She blanched and turned away.

“Bad luck, that,” she mourned. “This power would be put to better use by someone more clever, more skilled, far-seeing.”

Solas grasped her wrist and held up her glowing hand. “There is nothing to be gained by wishing the situation were different. The anchor is yours, whether you like it or not- as is the Inquisition. Your actions will shape the world, Inquisitor.”

Twigs squirmed in discomfort and Solas released her.

“Do you have a problem with me, Solas?” Twigs asked, staring reproachfully at her taciturn companion. “I know I may not measure up to the ideal of what an Inquisitor should be…”

“Truthfully, I am concerned with your leadership of the Inquisition. I do not dislike you, but your actions have shown a distinct lack of subtlety and understanding of the world.”

Solas’s assessment was offered without malice, but it rankled the Inquisitor nonetheless.

“And what should I understand about it? My world before the explosion was so small. I was happy in my ignorance. As a person, I mattered very little. Most people would have been bothered by that, but not me. This mark was an accident, Solas- I’m not Andraste’s chosen. Ever since, I’ve been pulled in every direction by people supposedly wiser than I am. But if they can’t decide who among them is right, how could I be expected to do it?”

“A frustrating quandary indeed. And yet, seeking to broaden your limited perspective may help you to see through to the right path.”

“Everyone’s got their own idea of what that is- even you,” Twigs said bitterly. “I know you think I’m too soft, too short-sighted. To me, the simple truths are the easiest to follow. Lofty, overarching goals blind us to the people kneeling in front of us, begging for our help. That’s obvious even to idiots like me.”

Solas softened, sensing the elf’s mounting distress.

“Ir abelas, lethallan. Clearly you are trying. Come, let us walk a while.”

“So how did you become a warrior?” Solas asked as the two elves wandered through the snow and wreckage. “It seems incongruous with a disposition like yours.”

“I was trained by a human named Jenkins,” Twigs explained. “When it was clear that I wasn’t worth much as a hunter, I left my clan for a time and lived in a human village. Jenkins and I got along well. He was a poultry farmer, but in his youth he had been a great warrior. A maverick of sorts. If you know me at all, you may have noticed that I can sometimes balk or panic when tasks become difficult. You know, rituals, puzzles, politics… codex entries more than a paragraph in length…” She cast a sidelong glance at Solas, who refused to look at her.

“I… have.”

“But I run into battle without a second thought.”

“Ill-advised, but we can never stop you from doing it.”

“I used to shut down in battle as well. When you fail so much in life, the fear and despondency can become overwhelming. Jenkins taught me a trick to help.”

“To raise your weapon and run in, screaming?”

“Well, yes. If you draw your enemy’s attention right away, you can’t back away from the fight. Best to jump off the ledge before the fear takes hold. Especially if it’s a jump you have to make one way or another; it does no good to wait.”

“In a strange way, it makes sense.”

“I may not be the smartest or most skilled fighter, but the more the enemies are focused on me, the better the odds for my companions. I trust that you, Cassandra, and the others will take the openings I leave by creating a distraction.”

Solas looked at the Inquisitor incredulously and laughed.

“So you are a tactician after all. I am continually surprised by you, Inquisitor.”

“Stupid like a fox, buddy.”

“I have noticed that you seem quieter around Cassandra these days. Has something happened between you?” Solas probed, shifting topics.

“Ah. Well. It turns out she doesn’t swing my way.” Twigs blushed furiously and lowered her eyes.

“I am sorry. Such is the way of it sometimes.”

“It would be easier to get over it if we could afford some time apart, but she’s the best fighter we have. She’s indispensable. So now we have to go on awkwardly, trying to ignore the disparity in our feelings for one another. I’m hurt and embarrassed. Sometimes it’s better not to say anything at all.”

“With time, you will rebuild your friendship, lethallan. Cassandra is stoic, but I know she cares for you a great deal. Perhaps not in the way you would like, but would you prefer not having her in your life at all?”

“I suppose not.”

“The things you value in her will stay the same, Inquisitor, and so will the traits she respects in you. None of that diminishes because you fell in love and she did not,” Solas said, gently.

“I know that, but it’s such a lonely feeling. Loneliness is the worst.” Twigs crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders, shivering.

“That it is. I have known much loneliness in my life.”

“Would you ever consider…? Y’know… with me?” Twigs looked up at the apostate, only to see his features darken ever so slightly.

“Lethallan, I would ruin you.”

“Oh. Well, at least you’re upfront about it.” Twigs shrugged and walked on. The apostate seemed surprised at the elf’s easy acceptance but said nothing. “Why don’t you tell me about some of your journeys in the Fade?”

“You know, Solas, I’ve enjoyed getting to know you better just now,” Twigs said brightly, kicking a stone down the path.

“Indeed, it seems that having a conversation while already asleep ensures you will not doze off on me. A pleasant surprise, Inquisitor. Perhaps we should conduct all of our discussions here in the future.”

“Not a bad idea. Do you think the storm is over?”

“I suppose we shall find out when we… wake up.”

Twigs jolted awake, wincing at the sudden pain from her partially healed wounds. Solas stirred under her as she realized with embarrassment that she had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to-“

“It is fine, lethallan. You seem to have drooled on me,” Solas cracked a half smile as he stretched out his legs and began to rise. “Though it is hardly the least of your bodily fluids I wear,” he said, considering the bloodstains on his cloak.

“The washerwomen at Skyhold have a tough job. I should see that they get rewarded somehow,” Twigs craned her neck to look outside. “It seems the worst is over. Do we risk taking down the barrier?”

Solas nodded and dropped the magical field with a few flicks from his staff. The winds had died down considerably, and morning had broken. From his vantage point, he could see a large lumbering figure in the distance, heading toward the mine.

“I believe we have been found, but I cannot yet tell whether it is by friend or foe. Be prepared for trouble.”

Twigs got up slowly and limped toward the opening, clutching her tender midsection. Her head ached mightily as she tried to focus on the approaching figure. Her expression went from pained to joyful as she registered what she was seeing.

“Ser Nuggington!” she cried, recognizing her gigantic exotic nuggelope. “And Cassandra and Varric!”

“You are a welcome sight, friends,” Solas smiled, squinting in the new sunlight.

“As are you,” replied Cassandra, dismounting. “We saw your magical barrier from the camp after the storm. We thought for certain you were both lost.”

“How you doing, genius?” Varric asked the Inquisitor. “You look a damn sight better than when I last saw you.”

“She is still weak and needs rest, but the worst is over-“

“-Thanks to Solas,” finished Twigs, smiling at the apostate.

“I am glad, Inquisitor. I prayed that you were safe, but I feared the worst. I know things have been… awkward lately, but still, you are a dear friend to me. I would be devastated if you were lost.” Cassandra and Twigs shared a gentle embrace.

“This is all very touching, but maybe we should get the Herald back to camp,” Varric said pointedly. Cassandra nodded and helped boost Twigs onto the beast’s massive back. The Seeker mounted and took the reins as Solas climbed up behind the Inquisitor with implausible agility.

“Hold on tightly, everyone!” warned Cassandra as she dug her heels in Ser Nuggington’s sides, urging him into a brisk galumph. Twigs felt unsteady and feared she might fall, but a pair of strong arms encircled her from behind.

“I have you, falon.”

“Thanks, buddy.”


A few days later, at Skyhold, Solas was in his Fade-a-torium, deep in thought. A book was open on his lap, but he hadn’t looked at it in a while. A knock interrupted his reverie.

“Please, come in,” he called. The door opened and the Inquisitor shambled in, carrying a parcel. She was still moving slowly due to her injuries, and she had complained of persistent headaches ever since. Varric teased that she may have strained herself trying to think, but the joke was good natured and well-received by the legendary idiot.

 She approached his desk.

“How are you feeling?”

“I can’t stay. I have a meeting with the advisors, and after that I have to go lie down in a dark room. The light hurts my eyes.”

“I’m sorry to hear it. What brings you today, falon?”

“I felt badly that I… chewed your satchel strap like an animal, so…” she shuffled her feet and produced a handsomely made leather pack. “I made you a new one. Dagna helped me. It’s a bag of holding. It’s deep, like you.” She fell into awkward silence.

“This is a beautiful and thoughtful gift, lethallan. I thank you. You have hidden depths, yourself. I would not have you think otherwise.”

“Aw, you’re sweet, Solas. Hey, listen- The surgeon thinks that drilling holes into my skull will help the headache go away. She says it’s the latest practice at the universities in Orlais. Something about relieving pressure on the brain or whatever. Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“Absolutely not,” Solas replied without hesitation.

  • villain: you cant run forever
  • hero: [continues to run while the villain just stands there]
  • villain: yep
  • villain: i sure am gonna catch up with you at some point and ohhhhhh boy you're gonna be in a bad spot that day
  • hero: [still running]
  • villain: i'm gonna get you!!!!! as soon as you stop i'll get you!!!
  • hero: [runs so far that they are no longer in the villain's sight]
  • villain: ... okay you can run but you can't hide!!!
  • villain: fuck
Going to the fortune teller with Sarada and Chouchou.😅 Pt 2.
  • Sarada: You...you have to give me more details then that!
  • Lady fortune: That will be am extra five dollars.
  • Sarada: No!!! I don't have anymore money!!!
  • Lady fortune: Well then your out of luck kid. Security get this kid out of here! No money no fortune!
  • Security: *grabs on to Sarada*
  • Sarada: Oh get your dirty hands off of me! I can walk out on my own....shannaro....
  • Chouchou: Sarada, how did it go?!
  • Sarada: Besides throwing me out of the room and scamming me for my money....my future is bright! I think I'm going to become HOKAGE!
  • Chouchou: *laughs* Hehe seriously though, what's your future?
  • Sarada: I told you Chouchou!
  • Chouchou: Oh!
  • Sarada: Hey and I kind of asked her what my future husband is going to be like....
  • Chouchou: What did she say! Don't stand there looking stupid in the face, tell me!
  • Sarada: Okay okay, calm down. *sight*
  • Sarada: She said my husband is going to be someone that I already know, and that I'm actually very close with him. Oh and he's going to be a very strong shinobi one day....
  • Chouchou: Wh...what!?
  • Sarada: Yeah I know.... Who do you think it could be?
  • Chouchou: *Laughs* No other then the sevenths son, Boruto....!!!
  • Sarada: !!! No it isn't Chouchou!
  • Chouchou: Yes is it Sarada! Think about! You and Boruto are very close and he's also pretty strong too!
  • Sarada: This can't be....
  • Chouchou: Ooohhh and I can't wait till I see him! I'm gonna tell him!
  • Sarada: Chouchou! You can't! This could ruin our friendship! And we're not even sure if its really Boruto....
  • Chouchou: What other guy are you close with beside Boruto? You guys have lots in common and you have a great connection towards on another!
  • Sarada: Hmp. It could be Mitsuki!
  • Chouchou: You playin right! *laughs* Its Boruto!
  • Sarada: Is not!
  • Chouchou: It too dumb dumb!