#asdlfkj

that is the FASTEST I have ever gotten an answer to an ask meme in my LIFE.

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

*thinks about bunnies* *cries*

old meme i'm not searching for because it's bye soon, not accepting!

@lostinquisitor said "you've lost your reputation, and a reputation's life's glass: once cracked, it can never be repaired."

valeria   winces   visibly.   he's   not   trying   to   be   brutal,   but   the   honesty   there   still   stings,   quick   &   sharp   &   straight   for   the   heart.   it's   why   she   was   first   sicced   on   solas,   given   an   impossible   task,   one   that   wasn't   meant   to   be   real.   investigate   claims   of   a   god...   she   was   never   meant   to   actually   find   one,   let   alone   three,   nor   was   she   meant   to   wash   back   up   at   the   necropolis.   somewhere,   she'd   lost   sight   of   that.   

if   she   does   make   it   home,   she's   still   ruined;   they   know   what   she's   capable   of,   now   –   &   so   does   she.

she   hugs   her   knees   to   her   chest,   a   young   kid   again,   forced   to   face   the   fact   that   this   is   all   there   is,   that   her   future   isn't   going   to   be   anything   like   she   imagined,   or   hoped,   it   would   be.

but   neither   is   his,   she   supposes. 

the   only   thing   worse   than   living   as   a   failure   is   dying   as   one,   especially   when   it   turns   out   he   wasn't   a   failure   at   all.   hundreds   of   years   have   solidified   his   legacy   in   the   history   books   as   one   of   absence   &   neglect,   &   forgotten   the   rest.   perhaps   she   should   allow   varric   the   rights   to   embellish   &   publish   her   story,   if   she   lives   through   it.   anything,   so   long   as   she   leaves   something   good   behind.

❝     going   by   a   new   name   helped.     ❞    

a   blank   page   to   craft   an   entirely   new   legacy.   of   course,   in   her   case,   she's   not   doing   such   a   great   job   at   it,   but   at   least   now   most   people   don't   immediately   associate   her   with   a   cruel end to   a   rebellion. 

chin   still propped   on   her   knees,   she   regards   him,    ❝     did   you   have   any   middle   names?   …actually,   do   the   dalish   do   middle   names?     ❞ 

Vader hums acknowledging you. “I’m sure it will... thank you.”

                                                   it’s raining , the kind of slow & dreary misting that has left nothing but dull grey for miles and a slow sinking in your bones —— you don’t wish it would let up so much as you'd prefer it to pick up pace , wanting for nothing so much as the heavy rush that rattles the ground and swallows up noise and signs of life for miles out. anything to break up the way this silence has stretched and grown and folded itself over into something too thick for your throat , nothin’ but the slowly seeping chill and the sight of your own breath.                                                     it’s barely dawn , but some things have no real sense of time : war , rain , and the slope of steve rogers’ bleeding nose. all three seem to have converged , here.                                                     you’ve always had a little trouble lookin’ at him when he’s busted up —— which maybe ain't fair , you figure , but it is what it is : not a squimishness , exactly , but it’s mostly you don’t want that to be the thing in your head , a bunch of bloody - slick flesh tangled into all that other shit that rattles around behind the thin skin of your eyelids. still , though , you make yourself. look , and breathe , & gently take that hand of his in your own.                                                     his knuckles are all swollen up and raw , and a great weeping gash is slowly drying up across the meat of his thumb. he always seems to carry his wounds in the strangest spots , you think , always in the tendered spaces of him. if you were kinder , you might ignore how apt that is.                                                     “ y’ever think , ”  you offer , finally , voice hoarse as it breaks through this small space between the two of you —— you're pretending to be much more invested in this salve than is strictly necessary , your fingers careful along the valleys of his knuckles because one of you ought’a be kinder to his hands , and it’s sure as shit not gonna be him. you’re wasting time , mostly , or buying it , because it’s steve , and you’re sure there’s more damage to feel out for ,  “ y’ever think about gettin’ your ass kicked in better weather ?  ”