still working plotting for my main fic and yknow. i see a lot of posts laughing at cassandra/the inq/justinia/whoever for wanting to recruit hawke as the inquisitor but like there's actually a lot of really disturbing tones to it, when i thought it through.
cassandra recruits cullen into the inquisition. and yeah, he comes in as a military commander, despite the fact that he has no military experience, but i think that's more related to like. the roots of the first inquisition. they later became the templars and the seekers -- cullen is military commander not because they expected to have to fight anyone but because justinia was going to use the writ to build the chantry's military strength if the bloody conclave didn't work out. cullen was hired because he's the fucking knight-commander of kirkwall, and justinia wants him to rebuild the templars. i know people like to laugh about it because it makes "no sense" but the military commander was never meant to do the kind of fighting they ended up having to do in the game -- it was intended to remake the templars. cullen trained hundreds of templar recruits in kirkwall and he's one of the only few that hasn't broken away from the chantry despite the dissolution of the nevarran accord. he's the most obvious pick for commander, when you consider what the inquisition wants.
bw canon hawke is a mage hawke who sided w the mages in kirkwall. they recruited a templar that knows him personally, that has had an antagonistic relationship with him in the later years, that knows how he works and thinks. if they had gotten their hands on hawke, do you actually think they wouldve politely asked him to lead the inquisition?
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satoru avoids you.
it's easy to tell with him, when most mornings have you wrapped sweetly up in the expanse of his warmth; face tucked into your neck, a hand half up your shirt, lanky leg tangled between yours. but the bed is empty, and you let the silence live, for now. sometimes he needs it.
faintly, you can hear him tinkering in the kitchen, though satoru hardly does anything quietly. how gently he's setting his utensils and plate in the sink is with purpose, like he's trying to keep you asleep for just a moment longer. it's unusual, is all: him not wanting for your attention every chance he can get it.
you stretch out into the space his long limbs are no longer hoarding, sighing a little breathlessly, as if you need to be quiet, too—and when you run a hand across your sleepy face, something scratches you. something sitting on your finger that most certainly was not there the night before.
it's rather simple, in the best way; almost inconspicuous, if it weren't adorned on your hand, right in front of your face. you don't doubt it still cost him an arm and a leg, but—there are no frills, no in-character, extravagant designs, no fluff.
there is only a single band and a small diamond, one that is almost a gentle blue in the light of the morning.
you're sitting there, staring at it blankly when satoru finally returns, though he still doesn't look at you.
"well, well, well," the grin in his voice is obvious, and you feel a distant relief that his tone is teasing, that his spirits are up. and then you feel a belated annoyance that he's daring to say anything about you being in bed. "look who's finally up."
it's still a bit early, you want to remind him, but he's already at his closet with an urgency in his step, picking out a set of clothes that give the impression he's not going to be crawling back into bed with you.
he continues, like he knows what you're thinking. "the one time itadori is early..." and he trails off with a shake of his head, running a hand through his hair as if he doesn't know to wear the same thing he does every time he trains with the students.
and you see it there on him, too.
almost blending in with his hair, a little, white silicone band that's hugging the base of his long finger, almost like the two of you have already up and done the ceremony and said your vows and til' death do you part, amen.
you finally say something when he tugs his shirt over his head in a hurry.
"do you really think this is a good idea?"
the dust has settled, but he is still gojo satoru.
it's taken a long time just for you to get here with him, enjoying a lazy morning in his home, seeing his hair still sleep-mussed, granted the quiet, intimate view of him pulling on his pants. he kept you an arm's length away for almost too long, for a numerous amount of reasons he's never listed for you, and you've never held it against him because you know why he worries. why he has to.
your question is genuine, though he is anything but.
he turns to look at you, all smiles. "have a little faith in me, peach, i practically taught him everything he knows! i can handle the kid."
you pull your knees up to your chest to hug, frowning. "i'm being serious."
satoru's expression softens, but only just. he flaps a hand at you as if to wave off your worry, before turning back around to pluck his shirt out. "have i ever been wrong about anything?"
you watch the marble of his back as he pushes his hair out of his face, blindfold at the ready, before slipping out of bed. he's still bare, and you press your cheek into his spine, wrapping your arms around his little waist. the affection makes him tense; you half-expected him to shut you out.
"satoru," you murmur into his skin, and when you peek around his shoulder to meet his reflection in the mirror, all you're allowed is dark fabric.
—but then he tugs one side up and levels you with his bright stare. "i do," he says, and the irony of his words has you flushing a bit. "i do think it's a good idea."
you can feel his heartbeat through his back, heavy and human, and you wait until his stomach flexes with all his nerves before biting him on the back of the arm. he lets you.
"okay," you press a smile into him, warm, until it spreads to his own face. "i do, too."
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Tarquin’s face didn’t so much as shift from that cold wrath. “When you went into the Spring Court and deceived Tamlin as well about your true nature, when you destroyed his territory … You left the door open for Hybern. They docked in his harbors.” No doubt to wait for the wall to collapse and then sail south. Tarquin snarled, “It was an easy trip to my doorstep. You did this.” 
I could have sworn I felt Rhys flinch through the bond. But my mate said calmly, “We did nothing. Hybern chooses its actions, not us.” He jerked his chin toward Tarquin. “My force shall remain camped in the hills until you’ve deemed the city secure. Then we will go.”
do y’all remember this scene??? i was rereading it, and i just-
the actual audacity it takes to say hybern’s responsible for his own actions as if feyre didn’t literally DESTROY THE SPRING COURT. if she hadn’t done that, hybern’s forced NEVER would’ve made it inside the summer court. like, of course hybern is responsible for his actions, but like- so are they???? and they just??? won’t take accountability???
it’s so fucking annoying istg.
and don’t even get me STARTED on the part in purple 🗿
Tarquin only said, “Get out. And take your army with you. We can hold the bay now that they don’t have surprise on their side.”
there’s this part…
The Illyrian camp remained in the hills above Adriata.
AND THEN THIS. THIS RIGHT HERE.
why?? WHY???
and then there was that line before this one- 🗿
“She is High Lady of the Night Court. She may do as she wishes.”
THEY’RE. IN. THE. SUMMER. COURT.
imagine the absolute nerve it takes to be the reason the summer court was invaded and then be all calm and collected like you’re dealing with a stubborn toddler when talking to the high lord of the court that’s been ruined because of you, and then LEAVING YOUR ARMIES THERE AGAINST THE EXPLICIT ORDERS OF THEIR RULERS. the AUDACITY. the NERVE.
howwwww are these people the good guys??? how on this cursed planet is HE the one we’re supposed to root for????
it’s genuinely SO gross. like- the utter lack of respect for the summer court’s sovereignty??? it ain’t it. 🤢
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SJM & her self insertion into her books
Feyre, who is not only the bland ya version of a guy in a harem anime, is also the self-insert of Sarah herself!
Throne of Glass... Sarah J Maas. Bonus points for rhyming! (technically its pronounced "moss" but I always read it as "mass")
It was a lot more obvious with Aelin. They're literally are identical, but Rhysand is literally inspired by her husband.
Realistically all the Acherons embody some type of fantasy for Sarah. ACOTAR in its essence is a self-fic, which isn't always bad but It really makes sense in terms of how clearly Sarah's personal views are reflected on the characters. She even claims Nesta is practically based off of her.
You can't tell me Feyre under the mountain was not literally Sarah's wet dream. There were a bunch of other avenues Sarah couldv'e written if she really wanted Rhysand to "protect" Feyre. Instead, it was heavily sexualized despite it's abusive elements. She alsoo sprinkles random stuff into her sex scenes that ocnvinces me she's a closeted furry, because wtf is with all the growling, roaring, and batshit bat shit going on. I could go on with this and actually right a well-written analysis on this, but I don't want to.
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