|| there’s a special place in hell for people who say they’re gonna check to make sure something isn’t allergy contaminated and never do, and every time I unknowingly eat something fried in the same oil as fish someone else joins them
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
noise dept.

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DEAR READER
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Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Jules of Nature

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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
YOU ARE THE REASON
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AnasAbdin

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@lyriumlearned-blog
|| there’s a special place in hell for people who say they’re gonna check to make sure something isn’t allergy contaminated and never do, and every time I unknowingly eat something fried in the same oil as fish someone else joins them
Starter Call
Like this thing for a starter, or just hit up my IMs to plot something out! I promise I don’t bite
Real talk: in haven, you would find Caecilia in the tavern, huddled as close to the fire as she can possibly get without catching her hair on fire. Most likely muttering under her breath about, how nice, Ferelden can get even. colder.
@nxthero || Ω
Caecilia had been working late into the night, scribbling down notes on every piece of parchment she could find as she tried to string together something that could help take down the red templars. She hadn’t eaten more than a few slices of bread early that morning-- although she had been constantly drinking water, a price to pay when working with lyrium-- determined to find something before she took a break.
She was so deep into her work, her ears ringing from the time spent around raw red lyrium, that she didn’t hear the door to her laboratory opening. Most of Skyhold had gone to sleep hours ago, the basement of the castle almost completely silent prior to the interruption. She snapped out of her concentration, setting her work aside.
“I’m sorry,” she said nervously, looking at the woman. There was something about her that set her on edge, the staff beside her desk just out of reach. “Did one of the advisers send you?”
|| Since I’m bringing this girl back, like for a starter?
BOOK STARTERS VOL.37 THE HANDMAID’S TALE MARGARET ATWOOD
❛ Don’t let the bastards grind you down. ❜
❛ Who can remember pain, once it’s over? Pain marks you, but too deep to see. Out of sight, out of mind. ❜
❛ Better never means better for everyone. It always means worse, for some. ❜
❛ There is more than one kind of freedom. Freedom to and freedom from. ❜
❛ Remember that forgiveness too is a power. ❜
❛ I am not your justification for existence. ❜
❛ I want to be valued, in ways that I am not; I want to be more than valuable. ❜
❛ If it’s a story I’m telling, then I have control over the ending. ❜
❛ All you have to do is keep your mouth shut and look stupid. It shouldn’t be that hard. ❜
❛ Truly amazing, what people can get used to, as long as there are a few compensations. ❜
❛ I want everything back, the way it was. ❜
❛ You can’t help what you feel, but you can help how you behave. ❜
❛ Nothing changes instantaneously: in a gradually heating bathtub you’d be boiled to death before you knew it. ❜
❛ To want is to have a weakness. ❜
❛ There isn’t even an enemy you could put your finger on. ❜
❛ The past is a great darkness, filled with echoes. ❜
❛ Ordinary is what you are used to. This may not seem ordinary to you now, but after a time it will. It will become ordinary. ❜
❛ I wish this story were different. I wish it were more civilised. I wish it showed me in a better light. ❜
❛ The night is mine, my own time, to do with it as I will, as long as I am quiet. As long as I don’t move. As long as I lie still. ❜
❛ By telling you anything at all I’m at least believing in you. ❜
❛ Whatever is silenced will clamour to be heard. ❜
❛ Don’t worry about forgiving me right now. There are more important things. ❜
❛ Keep the others safe. Don’t let them suffer too much. If they have to die, let it be fast. ❜
❛ The body is so easily damaged, so easily disposed of, water and chemicals is all it is, hardly more to it than a jellyfish, drying on sand. ❜
❛ The world is full of weapons if you’re looking for them. ❜
❛ Nobody’s heart is perfect. ❜
❛ One false move and I’m dead. ❜
❛ Watch out. I’ve got my eye on you. ❜
❛ Fear is a powerful stimulant. ❜
❛ I couldn’t afford to lose you. ❜
|| *randomly gets muse after finishing my first semester at a real university* what did I miss???
nighttimefriend:
Ny’Ari hummed, closing her eyes and trying to sober herself. She tried to let the cold night breeze rush over her face and focus on it. Trying to focus on humming magic of the old castle and the voices still echoing from the tavern.
“It’s a great ass. You enjoyed it.” She patted the hand latched on to her comfortingly.
Remembering what she saw, the warrior abruptly grabbed Tilly’s hand and began pulling her towards the great hall again. “There are venatori spies in the Tavern. You can…” Ny’ari began scaling the stairs two at the time, pulling the mage behind her. “…see the gold button on one of their cuffs. Soldiers can’t afford that.”
“I enjoy all asses equally, but that’s not the point of-- fasta vass!”
Caecilia barely had the time to focus on keeping steady before she was pulled away, the worn soles of her boots slipping slightly as she tried to keep up. Words were hard in her state-- let alone while chasing after the elven woman, but she managed to piece together enough that she realized that she needed to not have spent quite a bit of money getting drunk. Fasta vass, indeed.
“Are you sure-- have you talked to The Iron Bull about this?” She replied, brow furrowed. She didn’t know much about the Qunari mercenary, but he seemed to pick up on more than she was comfortable with, even when she was trying to watch what she said. She was pretty sure he could read every person in the tavern before they even noticed he was there... which was really not what she should be focusing on. “If this is some kind of prank, I’d rather you not worry me like this. I’m getting too old to take scares like this.”
Send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon I have
✧ CRIMSON PEAK SENTENCE PROMPTS !
* A MIXTURE OF CRIMSON PEAK PROMPTS , TRIGGERS MAY APPLY , CHANGE ANY PRONOUNS AS NEEDED .
❝ They take the heat from the sun, and when it deserts them, they die. ❞
❝ They’re dying. ❞
❝ You’re monsters. Both of you! ❞
❝ It’s a world of everything dying and eating each other right beneath our feet. ❞
❝ Surely there’s more to it than that. ❞
❝ Beautiful things are fragile… ❞
❝ At home we have only black moths. ❞
❝ Formidable creatures, to be sure, but they lack beauty. ❞
❝ They thrive on the dark and cold. ❞
❝ What do they feed on? ❞
❝ You’re so… different. ❞
❝ Ghosts are real, that much I know. I’ve seen them all my life… ❞
❝ It is a monstrous love and it makes monsters of us all. ❞
❝ But the horror… The horror was for love. ❞
❝ The things we do for love like this are ugly, mad, full of sweat and regret. ❞
❝ This love burns you and maims you and twists you inside out. ❞
❝ There are things that tie them to a place, very much like they do to us. ❞
❝ Will you still like to know my thoughts? ❞
❝ The aches that you describe with such earnestness, the pain, the loss. ❞
❝ In fact, you only seem to know what other writers tell. ❞
❝ You clearly have not lived it at all. ❞
❝ Where I come from, ghosts are not to be taken lightly. ❞
❝ You are nothing but a SPOILED CHILD! ❞
❝ What do you dream of? A kind man? A pure soul to be redeemed? Perfection? ❞
❝ I advise you to return to your ghosts and fancies. ❞
❝ A house as old as this one becomes, in time, a living thing. ❞
❝ It starts holding onto things… keeping them alive when they shouldn’t be. ❞
❝ Some should never be spoken about again. ❞
❝ You will stay here, with us… won’t you? ❞
❝ A man that feeds off land that others work for him. ❞
❝ This parasite is perfectly charming and a magnificent dancer. ❞
❝ I cannot leave you here. ❞
❝ I find myself thinking about you even at the most inopportune moments of the day. ❞
❝ I feel as if a link exists between your heart and mine. ❞
❝ The first time I saw one I was ten years old. ❞
❝ There were to be no parting kisses. No goodbyes. No last words. ❞
❝ You lied to me! ❞
❝ You poisoned me! ❞
❝ You said you loved me! ❞
❝ I’ve always closed my eyes to things that made me uncomfortable. ❞
❝ I don’t want to close my eyes. I want to keep them open. ❞
❝ It makes everything easier. ❞
❝ I heard you the first time. ❞
❝ It’s an excellent likeness. ❞
❝ The more the house sinks, the worse it gets. ❞
❝ Goodness. How many rooms are there? ❞
❝ We must do something about it. ❞
❝ Others that hold onto an emotion. A drive. Loss. Revenge. Or love. ❞
❝ The spilling of blood. A terrible crime. ❞
❝ I don’t know. Would you like to count them? ❞
❝ Do we have to do this? Must we? ❞
❝ She stopped drinking her tea, but I poisoned the porridge. ❞
❝ That’s exactly what our mother told us in her last moment. ❞
❝ This is your home now. You have nowhere else to go. ❞
❝ Perfection has no place in love, [Name]. ❞
❝ You know precious little of the human heart, or love, or the pain that comes with it. ❞
❝ I can’t. I can’t. ❞
❝ This place is hundreds years old. Souls come and go. ❞
❝ Some of them are good; some of them bad… ❞
❝ You insist on describing the torments of love when you know NOTHING about them. ❞
❝ I’M NOT DONE YET! ❞
❝ How do you manage this house? ❞
❝ Actually, I’d rather be Mary Shelly; she died a widow. ❞
❝ Perfection has no place in love. ❞
❝ Perhaps we only notice things when the time comes for us to see them. ❞
❝ In [Country] we bank on effort, not privilege. ❞
❝ The men at this table, all of us, came up through honest, hard work. ❞
❝ Well, maybe not all of us. [Name] here is a [Occupation]. ❞
❝ If there’s one thing I know, it’s the importance of the right tool for the job. ❞
❝ I’m a builder, dear. ❞
❝ Everyone falls in love, dear, even women. ❞
❝ There are things that tie them to a place. ❞
❝ The marriages were for money, of course. ❞
❝ You need a measure of bitterness… Not to be eaten.. ❞
❝ Nothing gentle ever grows in this land. ❞
❝ My heart would cease to beat and I would die. ❞
❝ I won’t stop… until you kill me… or I kill you! ❞
❝ So it’s all out in the open. No more secrets! ❞
❝ I feel as if a link exists between your heart and mine. And should that link be broken either by distance or by time, then my heart would cease to beat and I would die. ❞
hewasonceagoodman:
( ☩ ) ║ Samson doesn’t want to stop her. It’s better to get the anger out instead of keeping it all locked up inside. Leaving it bottled up would only make it worse, end up in something a lot more explosive and damaging. So Samson doesn’t let Caecilia’s words hurt him. Doesn’t take them to heart. Instead, he gives her a sympathetic look, as best he can. Losing someone you loved, you cared about, was hard. Friend, family or lover. Did it matter? It left the same kind of gaping, jagged hole in your chest.
“Aye. He likes to watch us suffer. Or enjoys taking people who deserve to keep livin’ ‘nd leave the rest of us to keep fightin’.”
The man is more then capable of thinking of someone who should have lived, instead of him. Maddox. Why did Maddox have to suffer and die? He was just a love sick kid, a good friend. Even when he was tranquil, that didn’t change much for Samson. It was just a little harder to joke with him, made it harder to tease him, but he was still Maddox. Maybe, at least part of him, understood Caecilia’s pain. Samson was sympathetic, and a little empathetic.
“Look, ya don’t have to believe in the Maker ‘nd ya have every right to mourn them. Just… ya got to keep goin’. Who else is goin’ to remember their name?”
“I treated Lucretius like trash when I was in Minrathous. I got caught up in the money, and fame, and life of an esteemed mage, so I practically forgot he and the rest of Qarinus existed. He gave me the chance to prove I was more than the spitfire from his shop... there’s nothing I can do to repay him for everything he’s done, and now I don’t even have the chance.”
The air around Caecilia grew colder by the second, seemingly battling the chill of the mountain air. She didn’t notice, shaking from anger and grief as tears froze in her eyelashes. It had been years since she had lost control in such a way, dating back further than her brother’s death. Even Danarius couldn’t draw this level of emotion out, every inch of her body receding into an icy shell, as if attempting to numb the pain from the outside in.
“I don’t care what people down here think of Tevinter-- I have yet to see a man in all of Thedas with that much kindness and charity in him. I wasn’t the only person he helped, nor am I the only person he saved from the way their life was going. The Maker took a man who lived his life taking what little he could while giving what he could to those in need... how is that fair?”
What use could she be to his name, anyways? She could go home, but it wasn’t like there would be much for her in either Qarinus or Minrathous. Danarius had soured every good memory she had of her homeland, Qarinus soiled by her brother’s death, and Minrathous poisoned by disillusionment. Even if she did go back, the damage was done-- those who weren’t slighted by her objections to the Venatori would remember her ‘falling out’ with Danarius-- although, in her opinion, it was less of a falling out and more of an implosion of the relationship. What had caused her to leave in the first place was keeping her from returning, and her mentor’s death was just another reason to not go back.
“I couldn’t even compare to him, you know... He was known as the man who would give you whatever you needed if you were desperate, or give women on the street corners witherstalk sap so he wouldn’t have to give them any wormwood later on. What have I done, other than work with Magisters that killed countless people because I was too naive to see their true intentions? If I could trade places with him, I would do it without a single question.”
My muse is completely intoxicated. Send me questions and my muse will answer them drunkenly.
headcanon: mages show their emotions through magic
we know that the rite of tranquility takes away a mage’s magic and emotions, yes?
my proposal: what if a mage’s emotion corresponds with their magic?
imagine the hands of a pyromancer growing hot like coal when they’re angered, their fists tightening around nothing but the incredible fire in their palms, searing those who dare touch them without their permission. imagine a pyromancer in love, flustered and trying to hide faintly smoky exhales, nervous breaths and giggles. their kisses are wood fire and wonderful warmth.
imagine a storm mage feeling their scalp tingle with faint electricity when they get excited- as they run their fingers through their hair, the discharge ripples down their arms and shoulders, their magic only intensifies with a broadening grin. imagine a storm mage’s robes sticking to them with static electricity when they’re bored or tired, their exhaustion evident not only in their lazy slouch, but also in the way the air around them gives occasional sluggish pops and sparks.
the spirit mage is a lot quieter than the elemental mages, their abilities revealing their emotions in a more subtle way. but imagine an aura of peace settling over the people around a subdued spirit mage. when they are sad or anxious, and don’t want to talk to anyone, their abilities lay an invisible barrier that dissuades others from approaching them. imagine them subconsciously pulling at the fade, bringing through whispers from spirits in times of great passion, a faint chorus of spirits from the beyond joining their speech- a music only they can hear.
and perhaps you can tell when a winter mage is content- when the surface they rest their hands on ice over with an intricate lace-like pattern, it speaks more than the secretive, concealed smile on their face. when they’re concentrating, the air around them grows sharper, colder, the smell of metallic frost that they are unaware of- something that puts them completely in their element so they can focus on the task at hand.
I swear to God I’m gonna be back on soon, but I’ve been crushed by school and work and shit. Idk if I’ll be on tomorrow (it’s my birthday so we’ll be celebrating and stuff) but I’ll be back by Monday to get things going again before school starts
flowers (eurydice’s song) - anaïs mitchell
I|| Your Animal Familiar ||I
~ Domestic Dog ~
The Dog familiar has always been known for its undying loyalty and selfless bravery to people. Just like this animal, you are very likely the best possible friend someone could have, and are always by their side through every situation. You never allow yourself to break a promise or commitment when you make it, and will give everything you have to protect the ones you love. However, be careful, as you could end up dragging yourself down into trouble if you trust too freely.
A Dog familiar will loyally protect their master and loved ones, and will warn them of who and who not to trust.
This familiar represents
-Loyalty
-Commitment
-Trustworthiness
-Protection
-Bravery
-Selflessness
tagged by: @leviathanwielded
Tagging: if you’re reading this, you are tagged
nighttimefriend:
“Aww,” She cooed at Tilly, only losing her balance once because of the squirming woman. They would’ve both ended up in Krem’s lap had she not pivoted her foot to regain her tumble. “Is our little mage afraid of some water?”
Humming, she kicked open the door and exited the tavern. On her mission to find the well. Ny’Ari spun around, hoping to make her dizzy, and just making herself dizzy. The soldier set Cae back on her feet when they were well out of the reach of the tavern.
“Did you see them?”
“I grew up by the ocean, you bitch! I’m afraid of the cold.” She snapped, scowling. If she was going to be honest, there was a brief moment where she actually tried to grab onto the mercenary as leverage, mainly because his pauldron was the only thing at eye level. If The Iron Bull had been in his place, she probably would have grabbed his horns if it meant having something to pull herself away or knock the woman off-balance. Shit, she was glad that his lieutenant backed himself into that fucking corner.
For a moment, she actually almost became sick, glad for when she was set down. Of course, she had to grab onto her captor for support, but she was laughing.
“See what, your ass in my face?”