#Cassandra where is all the lovely shading that is supposed to be on your eyes?

[falasta]

Jo Ampil (Grizabella) Taryn Donna (Cassandra) Katie Hutton (Rumpelteazer)

To be very, very clear -- my issues with makeup have absolutely *nothing* to do with these incredible and beautiful performers. It's purely with the design, nothing else.

I adore Katie Hutton and have since she landed in Seoul last month and proceeded to be THE most excited person EVER to be cast in Cats! Her enthusiasm and love is contagious and this makeup -- does her no justice. She deserves better. They all deserve better.

So much love to these extraordinary performers -- the stage makeup can't take away their enthusiasm and performance. I just wish they were getting the full look they deserve 😢

(I wrote this whole rant and completely neglected to link my source: picture from Joanna Ampil's instagram )

[fangsandfeels]

Oct 27 - Favorite Inquisition scene/dialogue

I found the Doom Upon all The World to be a bit anticlimatic. It felt like "let's beat the old man up for the last time" rather than the final showdown. But, I generally don't find Corypheus a strong or intimidating antagonist. Maybe, he wasn't supposed to be an evil and manipulative overlord - he was meant to be that disfigured creature, clinging to the past (and actually having not a single idea of what he was doing which lead to the reality of madness we saw in the alternative timeline, but I wish the writers capitalized on that more).

But, I liked bits and pieces of the final quest:

Sybil responding to Corypheus speech about "let's see who is worthy of being a god" with "Nah, I don't believe in gods" and a shit-eating grin.

Also, Corypheus clutching his pearls at her response:

The aftermath of the final battle as Sybil reunited with her group and saw everyone alive and well.

And when her mood was instantly darkened by the realization that Solas was nowhere to be seen. That something very important to him went wrong - and she was unable to help him with that.

Also moments of companions interacting with each other in Skyhold are my favorite, just like the dialogues. It's hard to pick one, so I'll just give a messy recollection: Solas and Bull playing mental chess. Blackwall sweating bullets each time someone asks him about any Warden-related stuff. Cole broadcasting companions’ memories and inner worries much to our delight. All companion scenes from Trespasser DLC: from Varric pranking Cassandra on Sybill's and the Iron Bull's marriage to Vivienne taking Sybil out on a SPA day and Sera wrecking havoc on the background. It was a love letter from companion writers and I enjoyed it.

And a bit of favorite quotes:

Blackwall making a reference that made me laugh like a goose for 15 minutes straight

Sera: Do all Grey Wardens have beards?

Blackwall: No, just me. I stole all the beards... and all the power held within.

Blackwall: There can be only one.

Sera: Not really!

Vivienne turning the tables on Sera’s bullying attempts like the queen she is

Sera: Checked your drawers recently, Vivvy?

Vivienne: Hmm? Oh, yes, my dear. Although I was rather well stocked with that particular shade of viper. So I sent it back.

Sera: Sent… sent it back?

Vivienne: Yes. It should make its way to you at some point.

Vivienne: I was most concerned it might have difficulty on the steps, so I gave it legs. Six of them.

Sera: That's not… you're making fun, right?

Vivienne: Do you sleep with your mouth open? I should avoid that, it was heavy with eggs. Skitter skitter.

───────

Vivienne: Skitter skitter skitter.

Sera: (Shudders.) Frigging stop it, witchy pisser!

Cole causing Cassandra to bluescreen after spilling tea about Lambert

Cassandra: Cole, do you have any proof about what you claim Lord Seeker Lambert did?

Cole: I was there. I didn't need proof.

Cassandra: But he could have been brought to justice. There are rules...

(me screaming behind the screen: BUT YOU WEREN’T THERE WERE YOU?)

Cole: He used rules to hurt people. He always found a way to be right, even when he killed my friend.

Cassandra: You had a friend?

Cole: A pretty Templar. She died protecting Rhys and me, but she got better.

Cassandra: I... don't even want to know what that means.

Cole letting Bull know that his Tama is secretly happy for him because she knew that he was too kind and caring for the task Qun demanded of him

Cole: "Tama, how will I follow the Qun?" Her hands, strong but gentle, ruffles stubs where the horns will be.

Cole: "You are strong, and your mind is sharp. You will solve problems others cannot." She smiles, but sadly.

Iron Bull: Looks like my old Tamassran was wrong. Bet she's pissed one of her kids went Tal-Vashoth.

Cole: Agents with hushed tones. Eyes stinging, forms to fill out, course corrections, reduce risk of similar losses.

Cole: I remember the little boy, too wise, eager to help. Words break in small secret spaces. He got away. He got away.

Iron Bull: How could you know that? You've never even met her.

Cole: Your hurt touches hers.

Iron Bull: Well, that's, uh, creepy. But... thanks.

And, of course, Solas offering Bull comfort after he chose Chargers over Qun:

Solas: You are not Tal-Vashoth, Iron Bull, not really.

Iron Bull: Well that's a fuckin' relief.

Solas: You are no beast, snapping under the stress of the Qun's harsh discipline.

Solas: You are a man who made a choice... possibly the first of your life.

Iron Bull: I've always liked fighting. What if I turn savage, like the other Tal-Vashoth?

Solas: You have the Inquisition, you have the Inquisitor... and you have me.

Iron Bull: Thanks, Solas.

[beladeprived]

Pocky Game

with the gremlin daughters + alcina, donna and angie

Warning/s: none :] its fun

i didnt mean for this to be a something like a fic but oH WELL. also tagging my good friend @donnasdimples for helping me with some parts! (this was supposed to just be like an hc but 😭)

You were bored out of your life. You had finished all your chores for the day so you were just relaxing in your chambers but oh boy were you starving. So you pull your locked drawer and take out a box of Pocky sticks for yourself...when a slightly mischievous idea hits you.

You smiled to yourself as you pulled yourself out of your bed and outside into the kitchen where the three, beloved daughters of Lady Alcina Dimitrescu were bickering at.

"Ladies!" You beamed and it stopped their bickering. All three heads turning to look at you," Would you like to play the pocky game with me?"

"P-pocky game?" Bela tilted her head to the side, her cheeks tinted with a light shade of pink as if she knew what the game was.

"Is it a kissing game?!" Daniela excitedly jumped, a huge smile plastered on her face.

"Kinda?" You replied, quite unsure of the explanation forming in your head," You put one end of a pocky stick in your mouth while the other end is in my mouth and we slowly bite at it until one of us couldn't take it anymore so we break it,"

An amused smirk formed on Cassandra's crimson red lips,"Ooh, im intrigued. Let's play,"

"Who goes first?" Daniela asks, eyes open and expectant to be first.

"What about Lady Bela?" You turn to the said person and she steps forward, nodding her head. And you swear you saw Daniela cross her arms and pout.

Bela steps forward and you take a single pocky stick from the box. You bite on your end with a smile and you look up to see Bela's cheeks flushed red. She anxiously (and carefully) bites on her end of the stick as a grin formed on her face. She slowly blinked as her amber gaze remained focused on yours. You end up taking turns with Bela in biting the stick. The two of you kept biting until you were just a few centimeters apart from each other, and from there you saw Bela start to lose her cool. Her cheeks were much more red than before and honestly? You were kind of the same. Neither of you dared to move then, neither of you dared to break the stick. You both just stood there, waiting for one another to make a move.

Honestly it just took forever with the two of you that Cassandra had to push her sister out of the way, causing the stick to (sadly) break.

You quickly bite on another stick since you felt Cassandra's impatience in the air. She quickly bit her end of the stick and to your surprise, you immediately found her lips latched onto yours. You heard Bela cough and Daniela whistle moments before Cassandra pulled out. You were in a daze, and confused since you saw that the whole Pocky stick remained unbroken.

"Oops, I forgot," Cassandra snickered, biting off part of the stick and chewing on it as she turned around to laugh more.

You sighed, rubbing your face free of the heat. Cassandra, to you, really is often overwhelming. You never complained though, you kinda loved it anyway.

"My turn!" Daniela happily exclaimed, taking the initiative to pull a pocky stick from the box and biting on her end almost too quickly.

You stood there, staring at her with a grin on your lips. The action amused you, but also terrified you. Who knows what kind of tricks Daniela has up her sleeve?

"C'mon, Y/N!!" She muffledly called, beckoning you over to hurry up and bite on your end so you could start with the game already.

"Okay, okay," You chuckled, taking your end of the Pocky stick in your mouth. You soon bite on it, signaling the start of the game. And an overexcited Daniela tried to bite too much that she ended up poking the back of her throat with it. Her beautiful face twisted into a hilarious expression where her tongue accidentally slipped out of her mouth as she gagged on the Pocky stick.

Daniela's little accident caused all of you to break down in fits of loud laughter. Cassandra ended up with her knees on the floor as she gave it hard, sloppy slaps. Bela had to cover her face due to secondhand embarrassment and you just couldn't stop laughing you had to put your arms around your belly. Meanwhile Daniela recovered after a moment and started scowling at everyone in a loud voice. Though Daniela suddenly burst into a fit of giggles as she tackled a teary-eyed Cassandra on the floor.

It was at that fun moment when the castle doors creaked open revealing a very tall vampire lady and a veiled woman carrying a porcelain doll in her arms.

"What is going on here?" Alcina asked, her expression curious as her gaze fell on the laughing mess.

"Mother!" Bela beamed, still trying to contain her laughter," We were just playing the Pocky game and Daniela gagged on it!"

"Hey!" Daniela yelled, throwing a pillow she picked up from the couch.

Bela's statement caused another round of genuine laughter and a content sigh from Alcina.

"Aunt Donna!" Daniela smiled, waving.

"Oh! Lady Beneviento," You greeted the veiled woman, bowing down to her," My apologies for the mess,"

"Pocky game!" The doll, Angie blurted out of the blue," I want to play too!"

"So, how does this 'Pocky game' work, my darlings?" Alcina asked, an amused look on her face as the four of you explained the mechanics of the game to her.

Alcina held up a hand, sitting down on the couch," Come now, I want to try too,"

You saw Donna sit on the other end of the couch along with Angie. You inhale before you pull out a stick, putting it in your mouth and then you went to stand right infront of Alcina. She took her end in her mouth and the moment the stick was in between her teeth, she immediately took a bite at it. Her eyes teased you and you were unable to break eye contact, let alone bite down. From the corner of your eye, you saw her mouth curl up into a smirk.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. Heck, you were playing the Pocky game with your boss. Alcina's face was only an inch away from you when she broke the stick and stood up.

"Have to go now, darlings," She smirked, walking up the stairs," Have fun with Aunt Donna,"

You cleared your throat," Yes my Lady,"

Your boss just teased the life out of you in a Pocky game and you felt so embarrassed you had to once more rub your face free of heat. You thought it was time to say goodbye so you could retreat back into your chambers but the youngest daughter spoke up.

"Aunt Donna! Wanna play with Y/N too???" Daniela smiled, looking straight at the veiled woman.

"C'mon it's fun," Cassandra grinned," Just don't be like Daniela and gag on your stick!"

You saw Daniela scowl and Angie look at Donna, waiting for an answer.

"But i'm too shy...," Donna hesitated, turning her head to the side.

"Do you want me to go first so you could warm up to the game?" Angie asked, looking at Donna.

There was a short pause before Donna replied," Okay,"

"Great!" Angie bounced. Her little feet tapping on the ground as she reached for you. You picked her up with your arms after you pulled a stick. Once it was settled in both of your mouths, Angie began biting too fast. She bit too much in a short amount of time that you both weren't aware of how close she is to you until you felt sharp pain on your lips.

Angie accidentally clipped your lips.

"Oh no," Donna panicked, quickly standing up to pry Angie off of your lips.

You let out a soft cry as your lips were trapped in between Angie's wooden mouth, earning a hilarious round of laughter from everyone except Donna.

"Holy shit," Cassandra cackled as she turned to face the wall.

Soon, Angie was pried off of you by Donna and you mumbled a soft "thank you" as you touched your slightly red lips.

"See, Donna?" Angie maniacally laughed," You just have to give Y/N a little smooch!"

That wasn't just a little smooch all right.

"Miss Donna?" You asked, dabbing a wet napkin on your lips," Do you still want to play?"

"I'm still too shy, Y/N...," She sighed," B-but sure. I'll play,"

Everyone cheered as you took out another stick from the box, placing it where it should be. Donna decided to play as long as she keeps her veil on, and you could only see her lips and everything else was covered.

You started biting slowly and Donna never bit. She just stood there. You were halfway into the stick and Donna still hasn't bit at all.

"Donna???" Angie pulled on her leg, but Donna gave no response," Oh dear,"

Bela stepped forward and tried to shake Donna's shoulder. Then the stick broke and Donna fell straight on her back, causing her veil to show a part of her super red, flushed cheek.

"Did...Did she-," Bela asked, pointing at Donna's body.

"...Did she...," Cassandra blinked.

"Did she faint?" Daniela asked the whole question and it was answered the moment Angie poked Donna's cheek.

"OH DEAR SHE FAINTED," Angie blurted out, her voice laced with panic.

You could only cover your mouth while everyone else shared another round of hearty laughter.

[hogarthwrites]

penitent thief

pairing: none

genre: grief/mourning, family bonds, reconciliation

words: 1493

summary:

Sam returns to his hometown after many, many years trying to reconcile with his past and to have his transgressions be heard.

note:

a love letter to samuel drake from uncharted 4 (i love him), so yes, this will be from sam's POV but i also have a lot of thoughts about nate regarding this topic.

Rain poured over the city of Boston, accompanied by rolling thunder, but in a little home just on the outskirts of the city, Cassandra Morgan held her one year old son in her arms. Nathan was her second son and she loved him just as much as Sam, who had just turned six.

“Shh, it’s just a little rain, Nate,” she whispered as Nate began to cry from the loud thunder.

Sam was sitting on the sofa in his matching Sesame Street pyjamas as he listened to Cassandra sing to Nathan.

“Dream a little dream of me…” She softly sang.

It was a song he often heard her sing, and as he hugged his teddy bear with an eyepatch, he felt his eyes get heavy as her voice lulled him to sleep.

Cassandra carried Nate over to where Sam was and wrapped her other arm around him as she continued to sing slowly.

“Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you, sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you…” she brushed the hair off Nate’s forehead. “But in your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream of me…”

As both boys fell asleep on the sofa, she covered them with a blanket and stood by the window, watching the rain fall. Just a few days ago, the doctor had told her what was wrong, telling her they didn’t know how long she had left. Only her husband, Frank, knew, but instead of comforting her, he drowned his emotions in alcohol again. Cassandra tried to hold back tears as she glanced back at her sons. How was she supposed to tell them?

Present Day

Massachusetts Welcomes You

Sam scoffed at the sign as he drove past it. Sure it does, he thought as he looked up at the grey clouds above and the brown leaves covering the trees. He suddenly missed the warmth of the California weather, wishing he was back in Los Angeles instead. He’d been driving for days, dreading going back to the city he grew up in, but now that he was finally within the state, he didn’t feel any different. Maybe it was because he wasn’t in Boston yet.

He couldn’t remember the last time he saw that particular sign. Was it before Panama that he’d come back here? Sam was lost in thought as he continued to drive, eventually he saw the sign he had been dreading to see: Entering Boston, Est. 1630.

The streets were just as Sam remembered it, but some of the stores were different. Not that he cared, he’d convinced himself long ago he had no attachment to them.

He stopped by a flower shop to buy a bouquet of different shades of purple. It was akin to a bride’s bouquet, with lilacs and wisterias, but the flowers were for no bride.

It had begun to drizzle as Sam parked his motorcycle at the cemetery. With a black umbrella in one hand and the bouquet in the other, he walked to an all familiar spot on a small hill by an oak tree whose leaves have all turned orange. 

Sam kicked away the leaves in front of the headstone and he kneeled in front of it as he placed the bouquet in front of it.

“Happy birthday, Mom,” he said softly as he looked up at the headstone. “I’m sorry I couldn’t visit for so long.”

Cassandra Morgan

November 14, 1947

June 25, 1982

Beloved mother, wife, and daughter.

He fished out a doubloon from his pocket, one that he got from Henry Avery’s piles of treasures.

“Remember Avery?” He smiled as he held it up, tossing it in the air and flipping it around his fingers. “We did it, Mom, Nathan and I. We found Libertalia and the treasure.”

Sam sighed as he fully sat down, ignoring the wet ground under him. For a second, he wondered if he was just talking to himself or if he really believed that there was a heaven and that Cassandra was listening to him. 

“I think I did something wrong, Mom, but I’ll save it for confession. It’s what they taught us in that school Dad dumped us in.”

He sat there for a while, telling her about the Libertalia adventure then just taking in the scenery. It was cold, but it wasn’t cold enough to bother Sam, and he began to think about all the adventures Nathan had had and all the adventures he knew he was about to have.

“I wish you coulda been there,” he said. “You were right about it all; Libertalia and Sir Francis Drake. You would’ve loved it.”

A giggle from a child caught his attention and he looked on as a father and son walked by outside the cemetery. 

“You think Mommy would like the card I made her?” The little boy asked his dad.

“Of course she will,” the dad replied. “Just keep it in your bag so it doesn’t get wet in the rain.”

“Okay.”

“Well,” he sat up and brushed off the dirt from his jeans. “I gotta motor. I’ll be back next year. I promise, Mom. Happy birthday.”

He stopped by the church next to the cemetery, finding it empty except for an old woman kneeling in prayer. As he passed her to go to the confessional booth, he recognised her, but couldn’t quite remember who it was. It’ll come to me later, he thought as he entered the booth.

This wasn’t usually something Sam did. Hell, the last time he did a confession was when he was 16, but something compelled him to do another one. Maybe it was just the nostalgia of it all.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned…” He muttered after crossing himself. “It’s been about 30 years since my last confession.”

“That’s quite a long time,” he heard a voice behind the screen, relieved he wasn’t talking to himself again.

“Well, this isn’t really my kinda thing,” Sam took a deep breath. “Anyways, I lied to my brother. I mean, I’ve done a lot of sins, but I lied to him for such a long time.”

“Have you asked for forgiveness?”

“Yeah. He says he’s forgiven me and we’re good, but it’s been eating me up. Weird because it’s not the first lie I’ve told.”

“You care about your brother a lot, then.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “He’s my only family left.”

He looked up at the screen. No response this time.

“Anyways,” he continued. “I’m sorry for these and all my sins.”

“Always remember that God loves you,” the priest said then.

Sam simply nodded, trying not to roll his eyes. It was something he’s heard a billion times. 

“Will you make an Act of Contrition, child?”

It was one of the prayers Sam was surprised he still had memorised as he recited it out loud. For a second, he felt like an orphan schoolboy again.

“I absolve you from your sins. May the father of all mercies cleanse us from our sins and restore us in his image. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” the priest changed.

“Amen.”

Sam felt a bit lighter after he left the booth, not because he felt his soul was saved, but he was glad he got to say how he felt out loud. As he got to his motorcycle, he noticed he had received a few messages from Nathan on his phone while he was busy.

“Yeah?” He said as his brother picked the phone up.

“Where have you been? Did you get there?” Nathan asked.

“Yeah, I just left the church. Why?” 

“Ah, nothing. Just wish I could’ve been there, I just couldn’t leave Elena.”

“Ah, don’t worry,” Sam shrugged as he wiped down the seat of his motorcycle which was wet from the drizzle. “Mom’s doing fine.”

Nathan chuckled. “That’s good to know. Did you get her the…”

“Lilacs and wisterias? How could I forget? How’s Elena?”

“Oh, we just found out the sex of the baby earlier.”

“And?”

“It’s a girl,” Nathan sounded happy.

“Kinda symbolic you found out on Mom’s birthday, huh?” 

“Yeah…” Nathan’s voice drifted as though he were in thought. 

“Thanks for telling me, little brother,” Sam looked up as a raindrop fell on his cheek. “Listen, I gotta go. Call me if anything comes up.”

“Right, I forgot, Chloe said it’s a go on the India job with you and that she’ll email you the stuff.”

“Got it,” Sam smiled. “Talk to you soon, Nathan.”

“Bye, Sam.”

Sam felt high on the possibility of going on another adventure as he drove through the rain. Boston suddenly felt like a new city to him, now that there was hope that he could do even more in life. He wasn’t the scrappy little orphan on the street anymore, he was now a free man with the world at his fingertips. He knew Cassandra would be proud of her sons.

note:

full discretion that i'm not catholic so all of my knowledge about the church and confession are purely from research so if i get anything wrong i apologise in advanced

[achillieus]

we’re fools. (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one.

(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)

pairing: college au!bucky x reader

warnings: alcohol, angst, too much tension, bucky and reader are stupid and in  denial, sexual tension all around the place

tagging: @tonystankschild​

(other parts)  (masterlist)

part 2/3:

And then it’s the last week of February and you have an assignment together, you and Bucky, the boy with black hair and a mind that you’re certain is not as clever as he insists it is. You know this cannot possibly end well. You feel it when he sits beside you and his knee brushes past your leg. You feel it when you take a breath and smell his aftershave. Sandalwood and vanilla. It makes you want to lick your lips. Please, get a grip. You try to get away, even propose to write the whole thing alone so you wouldn’t have to spend any time around him. In your mind, you call it self defense. But Bucky’s boastful and you can see him pumping the muscles in his neck, trying to intimidate you.

“My dorm, tomorrow at 7,” he says “Don’t be late.”

-

(your late night instagram search history)

(00:38 AM) #literaturememes

(01:15 AM) @buckybrns

(01:30 AM) #newgirl

(01:50 AM) @buckybrns

(02:10 AM) @buckybrns

You find it annoying; how he’s present even when he’s not around.

-

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that everyone, boys and girls, adore him alike. He’s charming, he’s crafty, he’s brilliant. He’s everything they want him to be and even more. It nearly condones his megalomania.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he’s aware he has an audience. Always plans his moves, knows how to play his character perfectly. He wears dark designer jeans and plain Henley shirts, buttons open, fabric tight around his biceps. Sometimes even a black leather jacket and a tag necklace. Girls are intrigued by the bad-boy, straight A student contrast, while the boys are envious enough keep him close and invite him to all of their parties. Bucky gives them whatever they need.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he’s utterly lonely. He has never said so, but it’s the truest thing about him. He has Sam. But for how long? Bucky’s used to people going away. It has been imprinted on him. His best friend, Steve, left with his girlfriend in an exchange program last month and Natasha, the one girl he ever came close to loving, just started dating Clint Barton. Clint fucking Barton. What a downgrade.

And then there’s you, sitting at the end of his bed, playing with the ring in your finger, reading some neatly written lecture notes. Usually, Bucky would think about 129 cheeky comments he could make to a girl in his room. But not to you. Are you sure, Bucky? He has grown accustomed to disliking you. It’s the one constant he has left and he’s not planning on losing it.

He leans down and takes the place next to you, a bottle of beer dangling loosely in his hand.

He offers and you decline.

“We need to concentrate on the project.”  

“You’re the biggest killjoy.” Bucky says with a hint of a smirk.

“I’m studying, Bucky.” He can see your left hand holding that dark green pen in a tight grip and your eyes trying to focus everywhere but on his face. He can see your hair glistening in the warm afternoon light that comes from his window. He can see the soft red blush on your cheeks and the beauty mark on your neck. What a tricky thing it is to see. And to feel. And to want.

Is that what dislike tastes like, Bucky?

-

He talks a lot, that’s the first thing you notice. He says all sorts of things, most of them having nothing to do with your project. You’re certain it’s because he’s feeling as uncomfortable and agitated as you. But still, it’s annoying as hell.

“Listen,” you say and turn to his side “I’m not going to fail this class just because you have the attention span of a two year old.”

A laugh escapes his lips and you watch, completely in awe, the way little wrinkles form around his eyes and his nose scrunches. Right now, he looks tender and warm. No, he doesn’t.

“I think we’re both pretty smart,” Bucky says nonchalant and wets his lower lip with his tongue, before he adds, “We’ve got this, so relax doll.”

There are rules, things that are solid, de facto.

Example 1: Bucky never praises you. At least not out loud.

Example 1: Not valid anymore.

Example 2: Bucky uses the word “doll” approximately ten times a day. To other girls. The girls he likes. Not to you.

That’s actually wrong, he called you doll the first time you met. That doesn’t count. He didn’t know you then.

Example 2: Not valid anymore.

It feels foreign. Pleasant and beguiling, but foreign.

“You always call girls “doll”. What is this?” You ask and he looks up. “Is it like your thing, your flirt move?”

Bucky meets your gaze, his forehead creased, and holds it for some seconds before he laughs again. Is this amusing him?

“No, I’m serious.” You bite your lip. “You even did it to me when we first met.”

“I did?”

Of course he doesn’t remember, what did you expect?

“Yeah, when you helped me find the admission office.”

“And you remember that, an entire year later?” He raises his eyebrows, looking entertained and partly interested.

Your mind empties and for some time you feel out of place, embarrassed. But you’re quick to recollect yourself. You can’t let him get you.

“It was my first day as a college student, I remember all of it.”

Liar. You don’t even remember who you sat next to.

Bucky smirks a little too long for your liking and then he leans in, his body bending in a way that makes you forget to breath. He’s so close and you only see blue, a rare kind of blue between the depths of the ocean and the brightest shade of the sky at noon. This would be so much easier if he wasn’t that handsome. Handsome and indomitable. What an awful combination.

“Interesting.” He whispers and lies back, touching the wall.

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and clear your throat.

“I should go, it’s obvious we’re not making any progress.” You pick your books and stand up. “Sometimes I wonder how you get all those perfect grades, you clearly-” You merely finish your sentence before he grabs your arm and swiftly, he has you pressed against his wooden bookcase. You don’t have time to blink.

What’s happening? He was sitting down a second ago.

“That day,” he says while his thumb draws circles on your wrist. “You were wearing a denim dress and some Saturn shaped earrings. And you were holding a cherry juice box.”

It’s utterly terrifying how your emotions toss and turn the moment you realize what he’s talking about and the fragile muscles of your heart ache because Bucky cares. Bucky remembers.

“It wasn’t my first day of college, but I remember.”

You want to throw up. Or kiss him. You’re not sure. You know you hate Bucky. Do you? You’ve taught yourself to. And it was never supposed to change. It shouldn’t have to.  

You part your lips to say something, anything, but he shakes his head and steps back.

“You should go.”

And you do. And you’ll never tell him, but you’ll always regret not kissing him then. You’re sure now.

-

your inbox, the next morning

(10:25 AM) from buckybrns@gmail.com

              I’m sending you our assignment. You only need to add a few things and it’s done. If anything else comes up, it’s better we work on our own.

-

For Bucky, it all came crashing down the moment he first saw you. It was all over the moment his eyes met yours. A gourmand perfume lingered in the air around you that day and it stained his pores. And it’s been with him since then. Clinging onto his flesh.

It’s partly obsessive and partly romantic and Bucky tries to keep it locked inside. He thinks he can make it go away easily, the way he flicks a crumb off his expensive cashmere scarf. He thinks if he doesn’t talk about it, it’ll be less true. That’s not how things work, Bucky.

Yeah, he’s starting to notice.

And he’s trying so hard to hate you. The problem is, he doesn’t think he can.

(his late night instagram search history)

(00:45 AM) #tomfordperfumes

(01:30 AM) @y/n

(01:50 AM) #funnycats

(02:15 AM) @y/n

(03:45 AM) @y/n

-

You make it your mission to avoid him and it’s going well until the fifth of March. You spot him at Sam Wilson’s party. You should have known he’d be here, they’re friends. There’s a thick cloud of cigarette smoke all around, but still, you can perfectly see him. He’s standing alone, his skin changing colors under the neon lights, a plastic cup in his hand, eyes crystal blue and swollen and fixated on you.

The room is small and everything feels known but unfamiliar at the same time; the atmosphere, his gaze, the lump on your throat.

They’re suffocating you, the looks you give each other.

-

“Buck, what do you want?” Sam asks, holding both vodka and gin and he observes the way Bucky merely turns his head to look at him.

What do you want Bucky?

Not to play a role anymore. For Steve to be back. Maybe, Natasha. No, he hasn’t thought about her in a month. Perhaps a Pulitzer Prize. Definitely a new pair of sunglasses. But there is one more answer he has behind his teeth.

Y/N, he almost says. Always.

“Vodka.”

-

He leaves before midnight and you can’t remember where the urge came from, yet you’re following him. You know he has noticed. But he just keeps walking until he reaches the door of his dorm and presses his back against it. He sees you and you see him and his eyes cut your heart open.

“Your place is on the other side of the building.”

“I know,” you mumble, “I just never got to say good job on the assignment and I wanted to.” You are unable to meet his eyes. You sound pitiful and you want to hit a wall; with your head.

Why the hell did you follow him here?

Because sometimes you do stupid things.

Bucky mockingly opens his mouth, as if shocked. It almost makes you groan.

“Did Miss high and mighty just comment something nice about me?”

“Why do you have to contradict everything I say?”

He shakes his head and you can feel your heart beat loud and irregular and it’s not because you’re mad. It’s because he’s coming closer, almost chest to chest now. And it’s because you can swear, he just glanced at your lips.

“Someone has to, you can’t act like you know everything all the time.”  

“I don’t do that, you don’t know a thing about me Bucky.”

“Oh, but I do. You’re Y/N, you like plaid skirts and Homer and dark green pens. You expect everyone to be perfect. You expect yourself to be perfect. And you always want to do the right thing.”

His pupils are dilated. Yours must be too. Bucky Barnes is dangerous and fatal. He makes your blood coil and your mouth dry. And there’s a tension, almost pain, almost agony, deep in your lungs and it burns. And you don’t know who leaned in first, probably you because Bucky isn’t that brave yet, but suddenly your hands are everywhere. Your fingers blending in his hair, his digging in the skin on the back of your neck. He’s bringing you closer and it’s a mess and all you can hear is the beating of your heart; a rapid vibration between your ears. It’s pure and raw and it doesn’t hurt anymore.

He tastes like ambrosia and a year-old despair and you think you can go on forever. You eventually break apart because you both need to breath and for a second you worry because he looks like he’s ready to cry, but instead he smiles, softly touching your cheek.

“Did I do the right thing?” You whisper.

...

feedback is so appreciated and motivates me tons, thank you :)

[mackeydoodledoo]

A Real Hero

Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu x (Fem!Daughter of Ares)Reader

Summary: You were lost. You needed to fend for yourself. You were the runt of Ares’ kids. Yes, the god of war himself had told you that you were the runt of the pack, making you fall behind everyone else. However, meeting a certain red-head has you making other plans.

Warnings: Fighting, Small amount of Blood, Supposed Death

A/n: So, I’m Poseidon’s kid... But, I may or may not have a idea for a daughter of Poseidon to be paired with one of the other two daughters. 

“Supermassive Black Hole” - Muse [Play this when Joan splits off with Daniela to go hunting]

---------------------------------------------------------------------

You had nowhere to go. You were shunned out by your brothers and sisters. Even your own father. You were the runt of the children of Ares. Meaning, you were the weakest link. Your own father had dropped you off at the same very forest. Haven’t heard from him, your mother or your siblings since.

Come on Joan... You got this...

You were exhausted. The glistening sweat rolled off your now toned arms as you were practicing your sword play skills. The tree however, wasn't so lucky. All of its peeled bark, all of its scars. Came from you. It looked like it was on the brink of death.

“Not so tough now are you?” You try to stupidly intimidate the nearly dead tree

God you sound stupid right now...

You take one heavy slash to the tree; it begins tumbling down. However, just as you about to chop it further, you hear a scream. Panic sets in as you immediately grab hold of the tree stump. You initially struggle to keep the other end of the tree’s weight. However, You shove it to the side, groaning in pain, clutching at your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” You ask, running over to the woman who screamed

Just barely grazing her shoulder with your finger, you wince in pain.

“Am I okay?!” She asks, turning to look at you, “Are you okay?! You’re the one who- oh my god...”

The other woman was in shock, but also intrigued. 

She looks down at your finger; blood... But, it wasn’t the crimson shade kind of blood. What was seeping out of your finger was a thick and Silver colored.

“How is your blood like that?” She asks, observing your finger like a gentle specimen

“It’s always been like this,” You chuckle

“Does it actually taste like blood?!” She asks

You look at her; her eyes dilated with curiosity. You look down at your feet, trying to come up with the best answer for her.

“How am I supposed to know?” You ask her, “I’ve never been one to taste my own blood.”

“Then let me be the first one,” She says, her tone dropping to a low, seductive tone

“Hey! What are you-” You protest

But it was too late. The tip of her tongue had ran right over the small prick in your finger. Your eyes widen as she begins gagging.

“Oh that was vile!” She wretches

“I tried warning you to not do that,” You chuckle, “But, did you listen?”

She punches your shoulder as she continues to gag out the contents of your blood.

“But for real though, how did you do that?” She asks

“Do.. What?” You ask her

“The... The.. You picked up a whole damn tree!” She exclaims, “No mortal could do that!” 

“That’s because I’m.. Not fully mortal...” Your voice trails off

“You’re... Not?” She asks, her eyes widening once more

“Demigod.. To be precise..” You begin explaining, “It’s when an immortal falls in love with a mortal... And they have kids... Kids like me.”

The woman doesn’t answer you...

Great... She’s freaked out...

“So... Let me get this straight... You’re... Half immortal?” She asks

Girl’s clueless...

“Technically.. Yes,” You answer her

“Wait until mother and my sisters hear when I bring you home,” She wickedly smiles

Wait.. What?...

When you opened your eyes you no longer found yourself basking in the sunshine.

“Just check her blood! She really is half immortal!” The familiar voice 

“Daniela, quit your games,” Another feminine voice calls to the sole familiar voice

“What is the meaning of this?” An older, robust yet soothing feminine voice walks in

“Daniela claims that she’s found a half immortal,” Another feminine voice says, but more hungrier than the other three

“But mother it’s true!” Daniela claims, “Look at her blood!” 

“Enough... Daniela,” The older woman sighs

By the time the arguing had died down, your fingers held your temples as you groaned in pain.

“Half-immortal,” The older woman calls to you

“Ow... What?” You look up

You had to adjust your neck in a slightly uncomfortable position as you stare straight up into the most giantess woman you have ever encountered.

“Tell me child...” She starts, “What is your name?”

“Joan...” You answer, “Joan Arc...”

“Are you truly half immortal?” She asks

“I am...” You say without a second thought

“Then prove it,” The blonde demands

“Now now Bela,” The older woman calms her blonde daughter, “But that you shall do for us.”

“What happens if I refuse?” You ask, standing on your two feet

“We’ll feed your scraps to the pigs,” The brunette growls 

“Cassandra enough!” Daniela demands, grabbing her sisters’ wrist

Cassandra turns to the red head and begins growling at her like a primal animal. You were about to step in before you see the older woman beginning to raise her hand.

“Cassandra... Daniela,” She sighs, “On this evening’s hunt she will accompany the three of you. Cassandra...”

The brunette straightens herself out when the woman called her name. 

“Do show her the armory for this evening,” She gently commands

“Of course mother,” She answers, “Half and half.”

Cassandra turns to you.

Great... A nickname already...

“You coming or not?” She asks

You walk towards her as you felt claw-like fingernails dig into your skin as you are bragged out of what looked to be the bedchambers. You catch a glimpse of Daniela; the woman you had saved from earlier in the day. You give her a small smile before Cassandra rounds the corner, knocking you into the doorframe.

“Come on,” Cassandra growls

“So... Half and half,” Cassandra teases at your nickname, taking a gaze at the weapons in the armory room

“It’s Joan,” You correct her coldly

“What brought you to our castle grounds anyway?” She asks, completely ignoring your correction

“Actually your sister... Daniela brought me here against my will so...” You joke, but also tell the truth

“She doesn’t know when to stop bringing toys into the castle,” Cassandra sighs

Toys?... Is she for real?...

“I was cast off, unwanted by my own father,” You explain, “I was the weakest of his kids... All of my siblings had their backs turned to me when I was casted out of the cabin...”

“That’s rough...” Cassandra sighs

You weren’t sure if Cassandra was continuing to mock you or she actually felt bad about your situation.

“Anyway though, I’m kind of happy that I’m out of there,” You add, “My siblings were a bunch of assholes anyway.”

“I could say the same for my sisters... We’re always trying to out-best each other to please mother... It’s getting tiring honestly.” She sighs

“Then don’t do it to please your mother,” You say, grabbing a sword off of the weapons rack, “Do it so it makes you happy.”

With your back turned to Cassandra, you begin putting your hair up to a ponytail.

“What’s that?” She asks

“What’s what?” You ask

“The thing on the back of your neck,” Cassandra helps, “What is it?”

My birthmark... Well, just a mark...

“The Mark of Ares,” You answer, “All the children of Ares have this specific mark.”

[A/n: Not much but I tried lol]

You nod, “Not the glamorous life as a god though.”

“So you really are half and half huh?” Cassandra continues asking

After grabbing a couple of armor plates, you arm yourself with a sword and a spear. You follow Cassandra back to the main hall where the other three women were waiting for the both of you. 

“All set?” The tall woman asks

“Yes mother,” Cassandra says

You simply nod as you follow them out to what looked like horse stables. However, you only see enough for the four of them.

Great... Will I have to be the one running on foot?

“Joan,” Daniela calls, horse already galloped in front of you

She simply holds out her hand for you to grab. You let out a smile as you take her hand. You were astonished by the amount of strength Daniela had when she pulled you up onto the back of her horse. 

“Strong,” You smile, resting your palms on her curved hipline

“You better hold on tight,” Daniela flirts

As soon as the stable doors opened fully, Daniela slams the reigns on her horse and the horse bolts past the other three. You let out a startled yelp as Daniela’s horse bursts out of the stables and out into the familiar warmth. You hold onto Daniela for dear life; your head against the back of her neck as you hear her giggling.

“The half immortal is scared of a horse ride?” Daniela teases you

“Caught me off guard is all,” You gently chuckle

Daniela continues to giggle as you ease your grip on her slightly. You look over your shoulder and see the other three horses following behind, slowly gaining to where you and Daniela were. You looked along the tree line to see the sunset beginning to dwindle down below the horizon.

“Why hunt at night?” You ask

“It’s too stuffy during the day,” Daniela explains to you, “It’s tolerable... For a certain amount of time.”

You stop at a river that was relatively near the castle for the horses to rest and hydrate as the four of you begin to tread through the woods to go hunting. 

“Why don’t the both of you go hunt on your own, go teach Daniela some hunting techniques would you?” Bela suggests

“Hey!” Daniela yelps, “I can hunt well on my own thank you very much.”

“I’d certainly could ask Artemis to give Daniela some hunting lessons but who the hell knows where she is,” You explain, “Come on Dani.”

Daniela takes you by the wrist and yanks you close to her as the both of you begin walking along the forest trees in hopes to get any kills before dawn arrives.

���Have you.. Actually hunted before?” Daniela asks

“After months of fending for my own,” You say, “Mostly spear-fishing... Spear is normally my main weapon but if I want to go more rough n tough, a sword.”

“Shouldn’t the half immortals be expertise in various weapons?” Daniela teases you

“A lot of Demigods would have their specified weapons,” You say, “Watch and learn baby.”

You roll up your pant legs and your sleeves. You strip off your shoes and slowly begin stepping into the ice-cold riverbank. further to your right was a giant waterfall. You could hear the loud running water go over the edge of the drop.

“If I only had Night vision,” You sigh 

“On your right,” Daniela calls out to you

You immediately spear to your right. Once you had lifted the spear, you had sworn the spear had gained more top end weight.

“How did you?...” You turn to Daniela

“I mostly go hunting at night,” Daniela smiles, “So my eyesight works best during the night.”

“That’s good to have,” You smile

You and Daniela continue spear-fishing as the night progresses through. 

“Have you caught a bear before?” Daniela asks

“No,” You say

“Why don’t we go and catch one?” Daniela suggests

“Well, how would you do it Daniela?” You ask her

“Why are you asking me?” Daniela asks

“Because one, you’re the one suggesting it and two, why don’t you lead a hunt for once,” You smile

Daniela looks at you as you emerge from the riverbank and begin making a makeshift basket to place all of the fish in. 

“You sure know how to craft,” Daniela just simply watches you make

“A lot of things were learned while living on my own out here,” You smile as you look up at her

You stop weaving the basket when Daniela is just kneeling in front of you. 

“You okay Daniela?” You ask her, clearing your throat

“I’m okay,” She answers, inching her way closer to you, “You?”

“I’m fine,” You answer, a bubble caught in your throat, “What-what are you doing right now?” 

“I... Like you..” Daniela says

“Daniela!” You yell

You coil an arm around her waist line as you try to get up but you tumble forward. You look up and see a bear letting out a roar. With your spear crushed under the bears’ foot, you draw your sword and begin swinging, in hopes of it being scared and runs off. However, you stop once it began growling. 

“Joan!” Daniela yells

You felt your body land onto the ground as the sword is knocked from your grip. You immediately prop yourself on your elbows and turn your head.

“Daniela!” You yell to her

Like Hell I’m about to lose her....

Your legs suddenly spring upward, pivoting as fast as they could. You break into a run as the bear begins to stand on its hind legs. You didn’t even think to take your weapon back into your hand as you use your body to slam yourself into the bear.

“Hey!” You call to Daniela

She looks at you.

“I... Like you too,” You smile

“Joan... Joan!!” Daniela screams

As quick as Daniela could, she scampers up to her feet and dives after you, only to come a hare too late. You and the bear had plummeted towards the sharp-rocked bottom of the waterfall.

“JOAN!!!!” Daniela banshee screams as she watches you both and the bear disappear into the misty waters below

“Daniela?!” Alcina calls out

Alcina, Cassandra and Bela emerge from the tree line, beelining it to her. Alcina pulls her youngest daughter into her arms as Daniela lets out wailing sobs.

“We were trying to hunt a bear and- and- I almost got killed but-” Daniela chokes on her sobs, “Joan went over the edge protecting me.. With- with the bear...” 

“I’m sorry my daughter,” Alcina sighs, “The hunt is over. Back to the castle. Now.”

“But-But Joan is still down there!” Daniela begs her mother

“No one survives that drop,” Alcina states, “Not even a half immortal like Joan. We have to go now.”

Daniela doesn’t argue with her mother. She follows her mother and sisters back to their horses to take back to the castle stables. 

I’m sorry Joan...

Night was slowly dissipating as Daniela lay across her bed, crying to herself. She didn’t care about how bad she smelled from the outside world. She was upset at herself for not catching you in time just before you plummeted to your death.

“Daniela?” Bela calls out

“What Bela?...” Daniela wipes away her tears 

“Someone’s in the main hall with Cassandra,” Bela says, less enthusiastic

Daniela dissipates into flies as well as Bela. Daniela follows her sister and as soon as Bela busts the doors open, Daniela felt her heart throb.

“Joan?...” Daniela calls out, materializing into her human form

“Finally,” Cassandra sighs as she pushes your batters and bloodied body towards Daniela

Daniela catches your almost limp body. But, you manage with all of your strength you had left, you wrap your arms around Daniela's neck as she struggles to keep you on your feet.

"I thought you were..." Daniela says

"Dead?" You finish her sentence

Daniela takes you to her bedchambers and begins stripping away whatever was left of the armor and your ripped clothing.

"Ow..." You groan

"Do you... Remember what happened after you plummeted down the waterfall?" Daniela asks

"Well, what I do remember is that the bear wasn't anywhere to be found by the time I had come to. I was bleeding a lot. But, obviously being a Demigod, my slow regeneration process began. But. Took me forever though. Everything still hurts like hell..." You sigh

You lowly gasp as you felt Daniela's long, cold fingers caress your body as she applies the bandages.

"I'm sorry," She whimpers

"It's okay. You're just really cold..." You sigh, smiling

You could feel Daniela's eyes on you as she moved directly behind you. You could feel the tension between the both of you.

"I meant what I said too," You say

You feel her fingers begin coiling around your ribcage and her head resting on your shoulder.

"I know," She whispers into your ear

You sweep your arm underneath Daniela and pull her into your lap.

"Joan!..." Daniela gasps

It doesn't take Daniela long to settle herself in your lap as her wicked smile sweeps across her face.

"Awwww you're blushing," Daniela coos

"Shut up..." You growl playfully

"Well then maybe you should make me," She smirks, her wicked giggle coming out

[A/n: Here is a character board for Joan Arc]

[love-anddeepression]

You’re not him-Chapter 2

( How do I put links?) 

Italics are reader's thoughts

"ABORT MISSION ABORT MISSION ABORT THE DAMN FRICKING MISSION-"

"Um, Miss, who are you?" Loki's voice dragged you out of your thoughts.

"Uh-I'm I'm an agent! here! in the TVA!" you say a little too enthusiastically.

Eyeing you worriedly, Loki replies, " Oooook, now Mobius." he says, looking at the man, " where will I be staying?"

" Y/n will show you your quarters Loki, and you'll have your own cubicle, where you'll be taught by Miss Minutes about the TVA" Mobius replies walking Loki out of his office, shooting you a sympathetic glance.

Following closely behind, the reality if the situation suddenly hit you like a train. A variant of your  your soon-to-be husband, who died, was here

Alive.

Should you tell him? Should you not tell him? All the sadness and depression which you tried so hard to push away and bottle up was surfacing, leaking out drop by drop.

"Y/n? Y/n! Earth to Y/n!" you heard Mobius say your name, his hand waving in front of your face, he was looking at you sadly, knowing what you were going through.

" Sorry yeah?" you say, a little out of breath.

" Take Loki to his room ok? The staff quarters." He said.

" Yeah! Sure! Please follow me Mr. Laufeyson." you say heading towards the staff quarters.

Loki looks at Mobius before following you.

After a while of walking in complete silence, Loki tries to make conversation,

"I don't believe I've gotten your name madam" he says.

" Huh, well I thought, you already heard it multiple times, given how many times Mobius had shake me out of my thoughts, I'm Y/n. Nice to meet you." Again.

" Heh yes, well I'm Loki-"

" of Asgard, Yes, I'm aware of that Mr Laufeyson, I bet everyone knows who you are." you say.

It suddenly dawned that you might have not made a good first impression.

" I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, It's just everyone's on edge today." Yeah! particularly me! Well what am I supposed to do when I see a variant of my dead fiancé? Kiss him? Tell him the truth? No you idiot!

" Well, I doubt they have a runaway variant everyday." he says chuckling lightly.

" You'll be surprised, Mr Laufeyson." you say smirking at him.

Heading to a door, you unlock it with a keycard and show him inside. It's a fairly large room, with a bed, a Tv, a mini-fridge, with an attatched bathroom.

" This is your room, and so is this keycard, your uniform is in the cupboard and your work begins tomorrow. Good Luck Mr.Laufeyson" you say smiling lightly while simultaneously crying and sobbing on the inside.

" Thank you, Ma'am, and please call me Loki." he says smirking at you.

"Only if you call me Y/n."

"Alright then, Thank you Y/n"

" You're very welcome Loki, I'll see you tomorrow." you say walking out.

~~

As soon as you leave and the door closes, you immediately sprint to Mobius's office.

" OK, NOW WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO MOBIUS?! HUH? WHAT SHOULD I SAY, HI I'M ACTUALLY OR I WAS YOUR FIANCE WHEN YOU WERE ALIVE AND I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU AND YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO I AM!" you shout at him.

"Y/n Liste-" Mobius begins,

"No no, this is where you zip it!" your eyes glowing a shade of orange . That's all that would happen, the only indication that you had magic, you're eyes would glow when you were  you were really emotional.

" Picture yourself in my place, you're getting married, you're fiance is killed before you're eyes, then after a few years you see them again, but they don't know you, how would you feel? Think about that Mobius!" you say, tears threatening to spill out your eyes.

"Y/n, I understand that, but we need him, he's the key to ending this, lots of minutemen, Jamie, Cassandra, Damon, Stefan! All dead! We need him, and we need him to be focused, after the mission is over, then you can tell him whatever you want, but please for the love of the time-keepers above, please don't tell him, you'll be accompanying us on missions from now on. You know Loki almost better than he knows himself an we need both of you. Please." Mobius pleads.

Sighing, you nod and try to glare at him, but ended up sadly smiling, you couldn't help it, you couldn't stay mad at Mobius, he was like an elder brother, or your best friend.

Smiling Mobius gets up and hugs you tightly, making you feel a bit better.

___

That night, you weren't able to sleep, thinking about every good memory you had when Loki-well OG Loki was still alive.

You and Loki baking, him dabbing frosting on your lips, before kissing it off, the boops, the damn boops that made you feel so warm and fuzzy on the inside.

When you first met- 2013

It was a normal day at Avengers Tower, you had just gotten back from a long undercover mission, you had heard about the new resident staying, God of Mischief.

Throwing your duffle bag on the carpet in the room and immediately showered, trying to scrubbing the blood and grime off, before you went downstairs to surprise the team.

Being a dramatic bitch, you decided to make an awesome entrance.

*Steve in the kitchen*

" Hey, Tony?" Steve said

"Yeah capsicle?"

"Why do  I hear boss music?" Steve says looking worried.

Suddenly the door's are kicked open, startling everyone.

" I'm BACK bitches!!!" you say while holding your arms out.( like how Loki does it)

Shriek and laughs and smiles later, you gather your courage and go up to Loki,

"Hi, I'm Y/n. Nice to meet you." you say smiling,

" Loki, of  Asgard, nice to meet you too." he says, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles.

And that was the day you fell for Loki Laufeyson.

~~

"- and what happens when a nexus event branches past red line?" Miss Minutes asks Loki.

Loki ignores her, reading Mobius's jet ski magazine.

"Come on Loki!" she says frowning

Sighing Loki looks at her before saying, " It's when the Tva, can no longer reset the nexus event." smiling smugly.

" and the collapse of reality as when we know it." she finishes.

"Can you here me? Are you a recording, or are you alive?" he asks.

"Uh--sorta both!" she answers.

Mischievously, he rolls up the magazine and starts swatting at the mascot, causing her to go back inside the computer.

Looking at him, from you're cubicle, you can't help but smile softly, it had been years since you had last seen that beautiful smile and you're heart was melting.

From his cubicle, he spotted you and waved, eyes slightly softening, he liked your company, you put up with his bullshit and you were fun at the same time.

Waving back, you can't help but blush when you realize he caught you staring, your blush made him smile more.

Suddenly Mobius appeared behind him, talking to him and giving him a jacket, before he called you over, to talk about the mission.

" Y/n there's been an attack, we need you to come with us." he said hurriedly.

~~

"We've grabbed enough temporal-aura to know it's our Loki variant, but we don't know which kind." Hunt says.

"The lesser kind, just to be sure." Loki butts in, making you snort.

He seemed pleased that he almost made you laugh.

" Ok, here's the deal, when we get out on the branch, we're not looking for a time criminal; we're looking Loki, a variation of this guy." Mobius says pointing to Loki, while projecting imaged of other Loki variants, each one getting weirder by the second.

"Apparently you won the Tour de France." you say nodding towards the hologram.

"Apparently." Loki says smiling.

"Not so slight, different powers, though powers include-Shape shifting, Illusion projection and Mind contr-" Mobius began.

"Duplication casting." You and Loki say in sync, turning to look at each other in surprise before looking back at the confused team.

"Illusion projection."

" No, they're two completely different powers." you began

"How Y/n?" Mobius asked.

" Professor Loki, would you like to answer that or would you like to answer?" you say, smirking at him

" You answer first." he says smirking back at you

"Illusion projection involved one depicting a detailed image from outside oneself which is perceptible in the external world." you began, Loki seemed impressed.

" While Duplication casting entails recreating an exact facsimile of one's own body in it's present circumstance which acts as a true holographic mirror of it's own molecular structure. But you already knew that." Loki finished.

" Not bad, Laufeyson." you said.

"Not bad yourself." He smiled.

" O-ok take a breath. Noted. Ok let's go. Everyone gear up" ( sometimes, I'm not going to follow the lines well, cuz i don't remember them.

Stepping out of the dressing room, you felt amazing, it had been a while since you wore gear and you didn't realize how much you missed it.

You also drew the attention of a certain blue-eyed, raven-haired god.

He couldn't take his eyes off you and you didn't know whether to feel happy or awkward.

Both.

Both.Yes.

Both is good.

Happy and Awkward.

---------

After everyone was geared up, you headed to your destination.

Oshkosh, Wisconsin, Year 1985.

After reaching there, Loki went up to Mobius, and they started discussing things about the Tva, stuff you honestly did not give a crap about.

Headed towards a tent, Loki and Mobius were having a conversation. Loki seemed to trust Mobius and that's weird, he never trusted anyone except you.

"Ok stop, this is not your Loki ok, this is someone different, don't screw the relationship you have with this guy"

After all you went inside, you instantly spotted a TVA helmet.

Someone was taken hostage. Hunter C-20

"He's taking hostages." Hunter began

" He's never taken hostage before." Mobius mused.

" Maybe's he upping his game" Hunter said

"or he pruned her." you interuppted.

" A Loki couldn't have taken the jump on C 20." Hunt said.

" I think you underestimate-" Loki began

" Fan out, search for her and hurry up because we're at three units until red-line." Hunter ordered.

"Come on Loki." Mobius began. You follow him. Looking back, you see Loki staring at the helmet.

" Wait." Loki calls out, everyone stopping dead in their tracks and looking at him.

" If you leave this tent, you'll end up just like them" he continues.

As Loki explains, you zone out again, focusing on his eyes, ocean blue, with specks of green and gold, making them look like the most beautiful ocean ever.

"Did you know, you have beautiful eyes?" you say, stroking Loki's cheek while staring into his eyes.

" Oh, I have beautiful eyes?" he smirks

" The most beautiful." you whisper before kissing him softly.

Pulling away, Loki looks into your eyes.

"Darling, you complement my eyes, when yours are clearly superior!" He said

1, " But Loki, they're brown, they're so plain, what do you mean they're pretty.?"

"Darling, you're eyes are so beautiful, they remind me of a glass of ale, the mud that makes the earth, your eyes represent earthquakes, that bring the biggest of the biggest mountains to kneel for them. I love your eyes, they make me feel home."

( sorry about that, that's for people with brown eyes, cuz I have brown eyes, and I don't see them appreciated enough, pls ignore if you don't have brown eyes)

"Y/n, Y/n snap out of it! Come on, we're going back." Mobius said, walking out, you follow him, slightly smiling at the fond memory.

After you come back, you immediately head to your room, shower and take a nap.

[musical-shit-show]

Two Sides: Chapter 5

Previous Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4)

Characters: Musical!Beetlejuice, Female!OC, Lydia Deetz, Barbara Maitland, Adam Maitland

Warnings: anxiety, awkward attempts at flirting, panic attacks, cursing, a little bit of angst if you squint

Word Count: 1,930

Author’s Note: Been on a writing kick so I figured I’d post Chapter 5! Not much to say about this chapter, just some good old fashioned character development a.k.a. Beej being a pissbaby and Cassandra being an anxiety factory. Please check out my Masterlist here and my About Me page. Enjoy!

Chapter 5

Both Cassandra and Beetlejuice called after the dark-haired girl, but she had already shut the door with a forceful yank. Causing mischief was something Lydia had perfected from spending a lot of time with Beetlejuice, and while she didn’t want to admit it, she was sort of glad her roommate had brought him back. Life without her undead companion was almost getting too normal for her liking.

She knew that this day was already turning out to be a lot to handle for Cassandra, but Lydia tried not to beat herself up about how everyone had been introduced. Nothing ever went according to plan in the Deetz/Maitland household, so it was just as well that the day had already erupted into total chaos. Still, Lydia hoped that her roommate would roll with the punches and make it through the weekend relativity unscathed.

After Lydia shut the door, Beetlejuice’s demeanor changed almost instantly. He leaned casually on the end of Cassandra’s wooden bed frame, his eyes scanning her, an impish glint in his eye. His green hair was now mixed with pale yellow and light pink colorations.

“So....does your hair always do that…?” Cassandra asked awkwardly, attempting to make some semblance of a conversation. The air in the room was still unbelievably tense, even after Lydia had properly introduced the two of them. A smug look flashed across the demon’s face.

“My hair’s sorta like a mood ring,” he said matter-of-factly, picking at the dead skin around his fingernails, “This shade of yellow means that I’m curious about ya. Pretty cool, huh?” He secretly wanted to impress her, and he thought the nonchalant act would do just the trick.

“And what does pink mean?” Cassandra asked, enthralled by the swirl of hues that now adorned his head.

“That I think you’re hot, babes,” he said, raising an eyebrow. He gave her another once over as Cassandra held back an uncomfortable laugh, taken aback at how forward he was.

“Oh, I’m sure you say that to all the girls you manhandle after they unwittingly unleash you into the mortal realm,” she said casually, doing her best to hide her discomfort with him. She did not take getting hit on well by living men, let alone men that had been dead for probably decades. Beetlejuice raised his eyebrows, wrongly suspecting that she was flirting back.

“What, are ya talking about that kiss?” he said innocently, his stocky frame inching closer to her, “Look, new girl, that was just a gesture of appreciation. You should be flattered.” Cassandra rolled her eyes, frustrated with the demon’s lack of self-awareness.

“Okay, first off, my name is Cassandra,” she said childishly, “Second, I’m not flattered by you fucking with me. The last hour of my life has been insane, and I really don’t need your help making it any crazier.” Beetlejuice felt the venom in her tone, but soldiered on until she cracked. Breathers like her always did, and he knew she was just putting on a front to seem tougher than she really was.

“Listen, babes, you gotta relax a little. Take a walk on the undead side,” he purred, “Why don’t I show ya—?” He stopped her pacing and grabbed her waist. Cassandra let out a small yelp of anger, pushing him away and plopping onto the bed. The comforter was now decidedly dirtier since the demon had laid on it, but she didn’t care. Hot tears of infuriation filled her eyes.

“Look, the last thing I want to do is get down and dirty with some dead guy that just appeared in my room and has been messing with me from the second I got here,” she said, in a quiet but sharp tone, “So please, for the love of all that is good and decent, could you, just, leave?” Instantly the pink and yellow swirls in his hair were mixed with a deep red and blue. Beetlejuice stared angrily at the floor, not used to being shot down so pointedly. This kind of rejection brought up emotions he wasn’t quite keen on revisiting, but he was too prideful to admit he had gone too far.

“Fine,” he muttered, not bothering to make eye contact with the already irked woman, “You’re not my type anyways, sweetheart. Guess I didn’t know Lydia had such a stuck up, goody-two-shoes breather for a roommate. See ya around, new girl.” With that he vanished from the room, a tiny *pop* emanating from the spot where he stood.

Cassandra let out another angry cry, overwhelmed with the day’s events. She understood where Lydia coming from, leaving the two of them together to get better acquainted. After all she was right: Cassandra was the one that stupidly summoned him. But it clearly didn’t occur to her that Beetlejuice would go back to his old self faster than lightning, making Cassandra incredibly uneasy in the process. A few moments later, a soft knock on the door broke her out of her emotional spiraling.

“Cassandra? It’s Barbara,” the blonde woman said softly, a tiny crack between the door and its frame forming, “Everything okay?” Cassandra quickly wiped away a small tear and cleared her throat.

“Uh, yeah, yeah everything is fine,” she said unconvincingly. Barbara took that as an invitation to open up the door fully and enter the guest room, Adam following quietly behind her. “I just, uh, met another dead person in this house. The guy who looks homeless and smells like a sewer.”

“Beetlejuice,” the couple deadpanned in tandem. Adam groaned in slight frustration, rubbing the back of his neck at the thought of the raucous demon back in his former home.

“Of course, of course he would be back here,” he said as Barbara rubbed his shoulders, attempting to relax him, “After we had just cleaned up from his last mess...did Lydia summon him?” Adam’s expression softened when he saw the guilt on Cassandra’s face. She had just met these people and had now accidentally freed an entity they clearly didn’t have much fondness for.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—” Cassandra let a few frustrated tears fall from her eyes, not able to even look up at the couple. Barbara sat down next to her on the bed, placing her hand on top of Cassandra’s. The living woman felt no sensation of being touched, but appreciated the gesture of comfort.

“It’s okay, honey,” Barbara said genuinely, her kind face illuminating the gloomy air in the room, “We aren’t upset with you, right Adam?” The woman nudged her husband quite forcefully, catching him slightly off-guard.

“No, no of course not,” Adam added, chuckling slightly, “It’s just, Beetlejuice can sometimes be...well, a handful.”

“Really?” Cassandra sniffed, drying her tears, “I hadn’t noticed.” The three of them cracked small smiles, slightly easing the disquieting air that hung in the room, “Is he always such a dick?” Barbara and Adam looked at each other, silently confirming the living woman’s question. Cassandra sighed. Not two hours into being in this house, and she had met three dead people and had already pissed off the most irritating of them all.

The Maitlands were at least acting civil towards her, even treating her with kindness. But there was something about Beetlejuice that made Cassandra’s temperature rise. The condescending smirk, the overzealous grabbiness, the complete unawareness of social cues...it all added up to a huge pain in the ass that she was going to have to deal with for the entire weekend.

‘You have to be nice,’ Cassandra thought, ‘For Lydia. He’s best friends with Lydia, and you need to be nice. Just for the weekend. And then you’ll never have to see that creep again.’ “Try and stick it out, just for a few days,” Barbara said sweetly, “He really isn’t that bad when you get to know him.” Adam smiled unconvincingly, doing nothing to quell Cassandra’s discomfort.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” she said, smiling as genuinely as she could muster, “I still have a little more settling in to do, but I’ll see you guys downstairs soon, okay?” The two ghosts nodded and disappeared in a flash, leaving the living woman alone once again. Cassandra closed her eyes yet again, finding it easier to process the events that had transpired since she had entered the house. She just had to accept that this was what Lydia’s world was like, even though she had no idea it existed.

She couldn’t blame Lydia for not telling her all these years, but she was still shocked to know that her best friend and roommate had successfully kept this from her for so long. A wave of emotions crashed down on her: hurt, anger, confusion, curiosity, excitement even. How was she supposed to make it through the rest of this trip without feeling like a mental patient? She felt a tightness in her chest, a telltale sign her anxiety had taken hold of her psyche.

Beetlejuice materialized in the room only seconds after the Maitlands vanished, watching her intently. Now he was intentionally making his presence unknown so he could further survey the damage without causing another scene. His hair was now a swirl of purple and red, creating a sea of maroon locks that adorned his head. He watched as Cassandra steadied her breathing and closed her eyes, attempting to gain her composure. She let a few stress-induced tears escape from her eyes but quickly brushed them away, as she shook her head and moved to unzip her duffel bag. Beetlejuice felt a twinge of guilt, a blue streak reappearing in his hair. He hadn’t met anyone new since he infiltrated the Maitlands’ home all those years ago, and the prospect of fresh meat to torment was too difficult to pass up. He feared he had gone too far, but those thoughts were replaced by annoyance and disdain.

‘Who does this breather think she is?’ he thought angrily, stewing in the corner of the room, still eyeing Cassandra as she methodically placed her clothes in an empty dresser, ‘Since when did Lydia get a new best friend? And how could that best friend possibly be a bigger mess than I am?!’

In all of his years as a bio-exorcist, Beetlejuice had never been turned down by a human so abruptly. Well, other than Lydia of course, but that was a different situation entirely. When it came to consenting adult breathers, Beetlejuice had them on their backs in no time. At their core, he knew that they loved the idea of breaking the rules, and getting pleasured by a demon was about the most sinful thing imaginable.

But this one? This trembling, crying, self-conscious mess that stood before him? She had made it very clear she wanted nothing to do with him, try as he might to be as friendly as he possibly could with her, though his definition of friendly was certainly more abrasive and forward than the average person’s, living or dead.

And the thought that this was the person Lydia was now spending all of her time with and not goofing off with him? Well, that only damaged Beetlejuice’s bruised ego even more. What made her so goddamn special?

Beetlejuice could feel himself growing more and more contemptuous towards Cassandra, but decided to at least attempt to be civil towards her, for Lydia’s sake. He was her best friend after all, and he wasn’t going to let this annoying breather change that over the course of one weekend.

Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun when Lyds wasn’t around...

~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading! Please like/comment/reblog and feel free to drop an ask for any requests/feedback! 

[pikapeppa]

Cullen/Lavellan smut: Command

Cullen x Piper Lavellan SMUT for @schoute because TRADE DAYS ARE BEST DAYS. 

In which Piper is sheer cheek, and Cullen has had it. 😏

Read on AO3 instead; ~4400 words.

*******************

Cullen kneeled carefully in Skyhold’s chapel and gazed up at the statue of Andraste. Her serene stone face was clean of moss and mold, well-maintained as she was by the handful of Chantry sisters and brothers who had joined their cause. The flickering golden lights from the votives and myriad candles cast wavering shadows across Andraste’s face, while also chasing all but the most stubborn shadows into the corners of the chapel. 

He took a deep breath to center himself, then bowed his head and closed his eyes. “There was no word for heaven or for earth, for sea or sky,” he murmured. “All that existed was silence. Then the Voice of the Maker rang out, the first word, and His word became all that might be: dream and idea, hope and fear, endless possibilities. And from it He made His firstborn.” Cullen took another long, slow breath, then continued to recite the threnody. “And He said to them: ‘in my image I forge you. To you, I give dominion over all that exists. By your will may all things be done.’” 

He went on to quietly recite the second stanza, taking measured and meditative breaths between phrases to calm his mind. When he finished reciting the second stanza, he opened his eyes. 

Piper was sitting beside him.

He jolted, then released his breath on a quiet huff of laughter. Her arms were draped loosely around her knees, and her mischievous grin was an endearing contrast with Andraste’s placid expression. 

“Piper. You startled me,” he said warmly. “How long have you been sitting here?”

“Since the bit about the fancy golden city,” she said. She winked at him and stretched her legs out. “You can keep going if you want. I can wait and watch.”

Her tone was salacious, and Cullen smiled. “That’s all right,” he said. “I was finished anyway. I simply wanted to say a quick prayer, since I missed the service this morning.”

Piper widened her eyes. “You missed the service this morning? What a naughty commander.”

He gave her a chiding smirk. She knew very well that he’d missed Mother Giselle’s weekly prayer service this morning. Piper had just returned from the Hissing Wastes last night, and instead of rising with the sun and having breakfast with his men before the prayer service as he usually did, Cullen had opted instead to remain in bed with his elven lover until almost seven-thirty. It was an unprecedented lie-in, but one that he didn’t regret in the slightest.

He rose to his feet and politely held out a hand to help her up. “What brings you to the chapel? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you set foot in here.”

She smiled and took his hand. “Joke’s on you, then,” she said. “I’ve been in here exactly once before. I made a flower crown for your girl Andraste there because she looks a little plain, but I got caught by one of those Chantry sisters while I was climbing her to put the crown on her head.”

His eyebrows jumped up. “Climbing– wait. You climbed the statue of Andraste?”

“Yes, of course,” she said as though this was an everyday occurrence. “How else was I supposed to put the flower crown on her head? Anyway, one of those sisters caught me and started scolding me about disrespecting Andraste, and then another sister came in and started going on about how it wasn’t disrespectful because I was Andraste’s chosen and that’s how I was communing with her…” She grimaced. “Total nugshit, of course, but they started arguing about whether I was a heathen or not, and some of the gardeners crowded around to watch, and I snuck out and ran away during the ruckus. I’ve never come back since.”

Cullen stared in disbelief at her guileless face. “How have you never told me this tale before?”

“You never asked,” Piper said.

He frowned. “I… I would hope I wouldn't have to ask for tales like this.”

She pulled a little face. “Why? Am I in trouble? Cassandra already scolded me about leaving footprints on Andraste’s back.”

His eyes widened. “Footprints? How…?” His gaze dropped to Piper’s perpetually filthy feet. “No, I see. Of course you’re not in trouble. I’m simply surprised you didn’t tell me such an… interesting story.”

She shrugged and blinked her big hazel eyes. “I didn’t mean to not tell you. It just got lost in the shuffle, I guess.” She folded her arms and smiled. “It sounds like you enjoy my interesting stories.”

“You know I do,” he said. “They make for very interesting reports.”

Piper gave him a sweeping bow. “Anything to entertain my honourable commander.”

He huffed in amusement, and Piper’s smile widened. She tucked her hands in her pockets and rocked idly on her heels, and as she looked around the chapel, Cullen looked at her. Her dirty feet were bare as always, and her slender hips were adorned with a chaotically colourful sash that the Inquisition’s children had woven for her. Her breeches were faded and patched, and her untamed cloud of hair stood in sharp contrast with the chapel’s simple but tidy decor. 

“Piper,” he said tentatively. “Did you… you didn’t know much about Andrastianism before the Inquisition, did you?”

“Nope,” she said casually. “All I knew was the occasional human swearing about ‘by the Maker’ or ‘Maker’s breath’ when my clan ran across them while hunting or travelling. Sometimes they’d tell us that the Maker had no place for knife-ears in the afterlife or whatever. Which would have been insulting if any of us gave a fuck what those random humans thought.” She shot him a guarded look. “Uh, no offense.”

“That’s all right,” he said. Her words were blunt, but not surprising; he knew Piper didn’t believe herself to be Andraste’s Herald, and most people in Skyhold had stopped calling her the Herald at her insistence.

She wandered slowly around the small chapel, and Cullen watched her fondly for a moment before speaking again. “So I suppose your presence here now is not because you were hoping to learn more about Andraste.”

She shot him a cheeky smile. “Sadly, no. A heathen Dalish is what I’m fated to be. But don’t worry, I won’t dance naked in the moonlight singing spooky Elvhen songs or anything like that.”

Dance naked in the moonlight? he thought. Her words might be teasing, but an unwitting image popped into his head nonetheless: a nude Piper stretching and twisting in the darkness, moonlight glinting off of her hair and rendering it an even brighter shade of silver than it already was…

He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat, feeling slightly guilty for having such thoughts in the chapel. Unfortunately, Piper seemed to detect exactly where his thoughts had gone; her smile was turning wicked.

She took a step closer to him. “Unless you want me to, of course,” she said. “I could dance naked right here in the chapel if that’s what you’d like.” 

“No,” he said hastily. “That’s – I wouldn’t advise that.”

“Why not?” she said. She took another slinky step toward him. “From what I hear, Andraste here was quite the barbarian firebrand. I don’t think she’d mind.”

Cullen scoffed; of course those were the stories of Andraste that Piper would remember. “No, Piper. Getting, er, naked in the chapel won’t be necessary.”

“Who said anything about necessary?” she said. “I’m talking about fun.” She stepped right up to him and trailed her fingertips over his chestplate. She nibbled her lush lower lip, and Cullen stared gormlessly at her mouth until her fingers slid over the buckle of his belt.

A flare of heat bloomed in his belly, and he hastily stepped away from her. “Not here,” he said, quietly but firmly.

“Then where?” she asked.

“Go to my office,” Cullen said.

The words came out more bluntly than he’d intended, and he immediately regretted his tone; Piper was still his boss, after all. But Piper perked up. 

“Commander, is that an order I hear?” she asked.

Her tone was saucy, and her eyes were bright and eager like a magpie’s. Cullen hesitated for a moment, then squared his shoulders. “Yes, Piper. That’s an order. Go to my office now.”

She beamed at him, then darted out of the chapel and made a beeline for the nearest stairs up to the battlements, and Cullen exhaled slowly to calm his shameful libido. He glanced at the statue of Andraste. 

“I apologize, Lady Andraste,” he murmured. Then he turned and quickly followed Piper’s path through the garden and up the stairs. 

At the top of the stairs, he paused. Piper’s colourful woven sash was sitting in a neatly folded pile on the top step. 

He swallowed with a combination of nerves and interest. Piper had a habit of leaving trails of her clothing on the floor when she was stripping, whether before getting into bed or before they made love. If she was leaving pieces of her clothing for him to find… 

He picked up the sash and gazed along the battlements. In the deep darkness of night, he could just spot her bright silver hair as she ran along the battlements toward the tower that housed his office and bedroom. 

He forced himself to maintain a respectable pace as he followed her path. He nodded politely to the smiling guards – smiling because Piper had said something amusing to them as she passed, no doubt – and by the time his tower was near, Piper was standing at the door. 

And she was untucking her shirt from her breeches. 

He practically ran the last fifteen steps to reach her. “Piper, no,” he said firmly. “Don’t do that out here.”

She pouted at him and pulled her shirttails out of the back of her breeches. “So many rules, Commander. Not in the chapel, not on the battlements… where can a girl get naked?” She started pulling the shirt up over her torso.

Cullen hastily crowded her against the door so no one else could see, and she chuckled. “Ooh, this is cozy,” she said. She rolled her shirt up higher – high enough that he could see the first hint of the pale tattoo that adorned her sternum and the undersides of her breasts… 

A rush of lust surged between his legs, but he grabbed her hands to still them. “Piper, stop this,” he ordered. 

“Make me,” she retorted.

He looked down at her. Her chin was defiantly lifted, and her lips were curled in what Dorian would call a ‘shit-eating grin’, and still she was trying to pull her troublemaker’s fingers from his grip. 

He scowled at her, then released one of her hands and hastily unlocked the door to his office. As soon as the door was open, Piper stepped into his office and pulled off her shirt.

The simmer of interest in his gut burst into boil, and Cullen stood dumbly in the doorway for a moment as she dropped her shirt on the floor. She sashayed around his desk, then plopped down in his chair and picked up one of the many papers on his desk.

Cullen shot her a resentful look as he locked the door behind them. “Excuse me. That is my chair,” he said sternly. “And those are my reports.”

She tilted her head and didn’t move. “I’m the Inquisitor, though. So technically these reports are mine.”

Her tone was absolutely dripping with mischief, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s rather tyrannical of you.”

“It is, isn’t it?” she said cheerfully. She put the report back on his desk and stretched her arms overhead, and Cullen’s wayward eyes dropped to her breasts: perfect petite breasts framed by the swirling artistry of her tattoos… 

Then Piper folded her arms behind her head and propped her feet up on his desk. 

Cullen tore his eyes away from her nipples and crossed his arms. “You are being exceedingly rude,” he said. 

“Whatever do you mean?” she said, and she idly waved one dirty foot.

He forced himself to focus on her foot instead of her bare breasts. “That… that naked talk in the Chantry,” he said. “And the, er, stripping on the battlements. And now this.” He gestured at her feet. “Josephine would be displeased.”

Piper barked out a laugh and ran her hands through her silver mane. “I don’t doubt it. But Josie’s not here; you are.” She raised an eyebrow in challenge. “What are you going to do about it, Commander?”

Cullen shook his head slightly. Piper often made salacious comments about how stern and demanding he was when training his men, and this wasn’t the first time she’d tried to goad him into being stern in a more intimate setting. But this was the first time he was actually rising to the bait – both figuratively and literally, if the pulsing tightness in his trousers was any indication.

He placed his palms on his desk and looked her right in the eyes. “Remove your feet from my desk,” he said. “Now.”

Her eyes widened, and he could practically see her thoughts spinning as she decided whether to obey him or defy him. Finally she slid her feet to the floor and tilted her head. “There. Happy now?”

Her expression was cocky, and Cullen shook his head. “Not by half,” he said. “Now remove your, er, person from my chair.”

She grinned at him. “Are you trying to tell me to get my ass out of your seat?”

He scoffed and folded his arms. “I wouldn’t say it like that. Unlike you, I’m not rude.”

She snickered. “That’s too bad,” she said. Then she lounged back in his chair. 

Cullen stared at her as he considered his next move. Her whole golden torso was brazenly displayed, and the buzzing in his body was clamouring to see more. But Piper was being uncooperative unless he told her, in no uncertain terms, what he wanted her to do… 

He took a deep breath to muster his courage. I am the commander of the Inquisition’s army, he told himself. If I can command this army, then I can command Piper Lavellan. With these encouraging – albeit perhaps false – words at the front of his mind, he stalked around to the front of his desk, then gripped the arms of the chair and pulled it around to face him. 

Piper barked out a surprised laugh. “Hey! What’s the big idea–”

He planted his hands firmly on the arms of the chair and looked her dead in the eye. “Piper, get that bottom of yours out of my chair,” he ordered. “Right now.”

She beamed at him. “You know, I would, really I would, but I can’t very well stand up when you’re looming over me like this.”

He leaned closer to her. “I didn’t say anything about standing up.”

As soon as the bold words left his mouth, a touch of worry diluted the buzzing heat in his belly. Had he gone too far? Was that too bold? It seemed he had nothing to fear, however; Piper’s jaw dropped in delight. 

“Oh my. Now that’s a naughty commander,” she purred. “All right, no standing. What should I do instead?” 

He let out a quiet sigh of relief, then stepped back from his chair and folded his arms. “Go upstairs and wait for me. On your, er, knees,” he added sternly. “And you had better be naked by the time I join you.” 

She popped out of his chair and gave him a cheeky salute. “As you say, serrah,” she chirped, and she practically vaulted up the ladder to his bedroom. 

He blew out a relieved breath. Perhaps he was up to this commanding lark in the bedroom after all. He began removing his armour, and when he was finally down to just his trousers, he climbed up to his bedroom.

Piper was naked, just as he’d told her to be, and she was kneeling on the rug beside his bed. She smiled at him, and her bright hazel eyes drifted from his face to his chest and down. By the time her eyes were on his groin, his manhood was pulsing from the heated intent of her gaze and from the tempting sight of her on her knees.

Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. “Now what?” she said. “What do you want me to do next?” 

He swallowed hard, then slowly approached her. “Help me take these off,” he said, and he plucked at the waistband of his trousers. 

“With pleasure,” she said. “And I mean that literally.” She reached out and began quickly unbuttoning his trousers, and Cullen tried hard to control his breathing as her fingers grazed his skin, but his efforts to control himself were for naught: as soon as the buttons were undone, Piper pulled his manhood out of his open trousers and took him in her mouth.

Cullen jerked with pleasure and surprise. “Piper,” he started to say, but he broke off with a fitful groan: she was peeling his trousers down over his hips while continuing to suckle him. Her lips were firm and her mouth was deliciously warm, and – Maker, it felt incredible, but it was all so quick and his pleasure was already surging, and he wanted this to last… 

He brushed his knuckles over her cheekbone. “Wait,” he gasped. “Piper, wait…”

She immediately released him and looked up at him with wide eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he panted. “It’s more than all right. But I – I want to lie down. Will you–?”

She cut him off. “Lie down,” she said, and she patted his thigh. “Lie down and tell me what to do next.”

He exhaled shakily, then shoved his trousers off and climbed onto his neatly-made bed. He settled his back against the headboard, then patted the bed beside his hip. “Kneel here with me,” he said. 

She instantly followed his instruction, then rested her hands on her knees and looked at him. “Now what?” she said. 

Take me in your mouth, he thought. He opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated.

Piper tilted her head. “Now what, Commander?” she said, and she slid her knees apart slightly. 

Cullen swallowed hard. There was a telltale sheen of moisture on the very inner margins of her thighs. “Piper…” he begged.

“Just say it, Cullen,” she said softly. “I want you to say it.” She placed her palm on his knee, then slowly slid her hand up toward the apex of his thighs, and he couldn’t stop himself from panting as her hand slid along the inside of his thigh.

She cupped his balls, and he burst out a gasp. “Piper, take me in your mouth,” he blurted.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she purred, and she bent over his body and took him all the way into her throat. 

A pleasured groan escaped his lips, and he flexed slowly into her mouth. The tightness of her lips, the firm stroke of her tongue and the soft heat of her throat enclosing him and the tantalizing tease of her palm on his balls… Maker’s breath, she felt heavenly. With the silken heat of Piper’s mouth taking him deep and the exquisite sight of her naked body bending over him, Cullen couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that he had managed to do anything else today aside from staying in bed with her. 

He reached down and slid his fingers through her hair, pushing the silvery waves aside to better watch as her lush scarred lips moved up and down the length of his shaft. He breathed hard and stroked her nape, then ran his palm along the tattooed length of her back.

She arched her spine in response, and the suggestive curve of her spine further spurred the pleasure that was racing through his body. He continued to smooth his hand over her skin, savouring the softness of her tattooed back and the endearing contrast with her callused archer’s hands, and it wasn’t long before Piper was writhing and moaning into his manhood as she suckled him with increasing fervency. 

He ran his eager hand over her hip and down over her buttock, and she jolted and released his manhood. “Cullen,” she mewled. 

Her voice was strained and tense with need, and it was all the encouragement he required. He  patted her bottom. “Climb on top of me,” he breathed.

She nodded and obeyed him, bracing her palms on his abs as she straddled him. But before he could say anything else, she was sinking down onto his length.

He jolted and cried out, and the sound of his pleasure melded with Piper’s own enraptured cry. A second later, Piper was riding him hard and fast. 

Cullen grabbed her hips and forced her to stop. “Wait,” he panted. “Slow down. Touch yourself first.”

She whimpered and tried to roll her hips, but Cullen held her firmly in place. She finally released a heavy exhale and lightly smacked his belly. “You are being so fucking bossy, you know that?” she said breathlessly. 

She was smiling, however, and Cullen gave her a swift smile in return. “You have only yourself to blame,” he said. “I want you to come first. Touch yourself.”

She tsked. “Fine, fine,” she said, and she reached between her legs. 

Cullen dropped his eyes to her sex and watched as she rolled her fingers over the swollen little bud between her legs. He stared shamelessly at her slick and rosy flesh, then trailed his appreciative gaze up along the planes of her belly to her breasts, then finally back to her face. 

Her eyes were closed, and her lips were parted as she chased her own pleasure. Very slowly, Cullen pulled her hips closer to his. 

He ground his hips into hers in a careful circular pattern, and her lips parted further on a gasp. “Yes,” she breathed. 

Encouraged by her assent, he gripped her hips and pressed himself deeply into her slick tight heat while she caressed her clit. He watched raptly as her expression contorted from a relaxed sort of pleasure into a very tantalizing sort of tension, and at the moment that she gasped with pleasure, Cullen gripped her bottom in both hands and slammed himself in hard. 

“Fuck!” she cried. She shuddered and braced her free hand on his shoulder. “Oh fucking fuck, ah!” She trailed off into a wordless cry of pleasure: Cullen was thrusting his hips clear off of the bed in his eagerness to meet her. She let out another throaty cry and continued swirling her fingers between her legs, and Cullen kept slamming into her until her trembling had waned and she stopped touching herself. 

Then Piper grabbed his shoulders and began riding him hard and fast. Her nails bit into his skin, and he gasped with pain and pleasure both as he dug his fingers into the lush globes of her bottom. A moment later, Piper grabbed one of his hands and pressed it to her breast. 

He happily stroked her nipple with his thumb before firmly palming her breast, and Piper sobbed with pleasure and pressed his hand to her chest. Soon the bed was creaking with their efforts, and that wasn’t the only sound: she was whimpering and gasping with every smooth roll of her hips, and he was groaning with greater abandon as she rolled her exquisite body against his hips, and with every blissful thrust, the pleasure in his gut was growing and building and surging, growing greater and stronger with every impassioned thrust.  

Right at the moment that he was about to meet his rapture, he dug his fingers into her buttock and delivered one last command. “Piper, kiss me,” he gasped. 

She clasped his neck in her hands and sealed her lips over his, and his climax broke like a summer thunderstorm. Pleasure fanned out through his limbs like lightning, and he groaned uninhibitedly into her tongue. She continued to roll against him, and as he came down from the heights of his pleasure, her hands on his neck softened from an eager grip to a tender stroke. 

Her kiss gradually gentled and softened, and Cullen savoured the simple pleasure of her lips. Eventually she leaned away and treated him to a lazy smile, and he helplessly smiled in return. 

He reached up and tucked a wavy lock of damp silver hair behind her pointed ear. “This is why you came to the chapel, is it?” he teased. “To pull me away from my prayers?”

She shrugged and brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. “I missed you, that’s all.”

He looked at her. She was smiling still, but her eyes were on his hair, and a pang of affection tugged at his heart. 

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I missed you, too,” he said softly. “In some ways, it’s almost worse when you are here at Skyhold. Knowing you’re so near, but…” He trailed off, uncertain whether his sentiment was clear or whether it sounded selfish – or worse yet, if he was making it sound like he didn’t want her here. 

But Piper only shook her head. “I know what you mean,” she said. “So close but so far, right?”

“Exactly,” he murmured. 

Piper sighed, then rested her forehead to his, and for a moment they sat quietly in each other’s arms. Then Piper patted his cheek. “Now now, none of this moping,” she said cheerfully. “There’s no moping allowed, not when you’ve fucked me so thoroughly.”

He scoffed and rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s a compliment, I presume.”

“It absolutely is,” she said with relish. “You were perfectly bossy. Next time I’m watching you train your men, guess what I’ll be thinking about?”

“Maker’s breath,” he lamented. “I regret this already.”

Piper laughed and ran her hands through her wavy hair. “Don’t you dare, or I’ll have you do this again. And again and again until you have no regrets.”

He chidingly shook his head, but he couldn’t help but smile. Piper needn’t truly fear that he would have any regrets. With her beautiful nude body splayed across his lap and her bright bark of a laugh ringing in his ears, Cullen didn’t have any regrets at all.  

[hailbabel]

FitzBirch - Easy

This one takes place early in the FitzBirch courtship, not too long after season 3. In regards to the bit about the ladder, I like to imagine Nance banged up her elbow pretty good, but is too proud to tell Isabella she couldn’t move it for days.

FitzBirch - Easy

Isabella sat back on a chair in the parlour at Fanny’s, sipping her wine and smiling in a well-pleased kind of way. When she had suggested to her companions that they try something new, they had all blushed and looked away from her like she was crazy. 

“It simply isn’t proper,” said Cassandra very matter of factly. She was a dark haired woman a little younger than Isabella herself, and daughter to a Justice. The other two women nodded, but, even though Cassandra had just given them a perfect cover, they looked a little disappointed.

“Neither is being betrothed to a man and trying to seduce his sister,” Isabella gave back. There was an icy silence. And then Amelia began to snicker, which started Louisa laughing, and that was the end of it. They all shared one thing in common, and it was the one thing they couldn’t really share with anyone else--a particular devotion to Sappho that they had kept hidden all of their lives. So when Fanny and Nancy had suggested that Isabella bring them round for a bit of mutual benefitting, she thought it a fine excuse to leave the house and torment Nancy with her affections.

Nancy herself had no idea that this had been Isabella’s plan, of course. At least, if she did, she made no mention of it. But Nancy could be taciturn even at the best of times. Isabella had once felt guilty about the way she would fumble and drop things or suddenly become tongue-tied when Isabella was around. Indeed, she had thought her affections completely misplaced, and avoided Greek Street altogether. This lasted about a week and a day until Nancy herself showed up at St. James, looking every inch an abandoned puppy and demanding to know why Isabella hadn’t been in contact.

Ever since, Isabella had made it her personal mission to make sure Nancy knew how she felt, and never had reason to give her that sad, hang dog look ever again. Aside from the simple joy of fabricating the flimsiest reasons to visit or write to her, Isabella had found it endlessly amusing to see what minor mishaps her mere presence could cause. Of course, that one time Nance was on a ladder fixing the curtains had almost ended rather badly when she lost her footing and fell off. But she popped right back up and insisted he hadn’t hit her elbow that badly and Isabella supposed everything was fine.

In any case, it seemed everyone was going to get what they wanted. Amelia, Louisa, and Cassandra had agreed to come, and, by the way they were all heavy in their cups and completely oblivious to anything around them but Fanny’s girls, were having a good time. Fanny would surely be enjoying their repeat custom, and they would soon be enjoying the girls. And Isabella. Well, she was just enjoying making Nancy uncomfortable from across the room.

Nancy had taken up her post leaning against the sideboard, birch under one arm, and an empty glass in her other hand. She had long since finished the drink, but had been fiddling with the glass, pretending to be very interested in it when she was trying to avoid looking Isabella in the eye. Behinder her hair, and her cocked hat which she’d pulled low over her eyes, she’d turned a lovely shade of pink.

Isabella stood from the sofa, deciding it was time to put Nancy out of her misery, and crossed the room to join her.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Isabella said lightly, moving to stand besides Nancy facing the room. “I think my companions are having a lovely time.”

“Oh, sure,” Nancy said. “I think the one in the blue is about to have an especially good night.” She jutted her chin at Louisa who was flanked by two very attractive, very nearly identical women. Louisa herself had not stopped grinning for the past quarter hour.

“Indeed,” said Isabella. “And what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Nancy Birch, standing here, next to me. Are you having a good night?”

Nancy tapped her glass on the top of the sideboard a couple of times before picking it up again and crossing her arms.

“Yeah. I mean. It’s work.” She pressed her lips together hard, looked at Isabella, and then up at the ceiling. “What about you? Nothing here catch your eye?”

Isabella leaned across Nancy to put her glass down on the sideboard, making sure she pressed just so against Nancy’s side. Nancy drew in a long breath and ventured to look at Isabella, who was sure she was about to explode soon.

“Only you,” she said, before relenting and moving back.

Nancy laughed at that, finally pushing her hat back up where it belonged so Isabella could see her face properly. She shuffled a bit uneasily, but leaned in so that her arm kept contact with Isabella’s side. It was a warm, comfortable feeling.

“Isabella, I’m no harlot anymore. This birch is for whipping miscreants now, not culls.” Nancy tapped her birch against the floor lightly as if to punctuate her point, but her eyes moved over Isabella in a slow, deliberate motion, pausing very long on the curve of her neck before she met Isabella’s gaze again. “Uh. Besides,” she said, trying to cover the gap. “Could you imagine if that was me trying to woo you?”

 She had meant it to sound like a ridiculous thing, but Isabella tilted her head to one side and gave a little “hmm”.

“And what if I can?”

Nancy laughed again, but it was a fluttery, unsure little thing.

“You’re pulling my leg, girl,” she said. “What would you do if I were to try and get you into bed?”

Isabella almost felt bad, but she just couldn’t help herself. She leaned in so she could speak into Nancy’s ear, quietly, in a low, smooth tone.

“I’d put my legs around you and let you ravage me until you were utterly spent, and mine was the only name you ever wanted to taste again.”

There was a loud thunk! as Nancy dropped her glass.

“Bugger!”

Isabella supposed she shouldn’t have found it amusing, but it was just so easy.

[junkratsloverat]

22 and Cullen from the kiss prompts? (toogay)

22.  a kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party

this is such a cute idea, tysm @toogayforthistoday​!! :3 sorry for taking so long, i got distracted by the ovw event and getting the new emote for jamie lol

i’ve had a college au in my head for a long time now, and this is the first time i’ve written for it; hopefully it’s ok sjkdhfsldfs

length: 8563 characters ; 1570 words

warnings: gets a little steamy ｜−・;） nothing explicit tho!

[ more kisses! ]

     “...it’s 72, love.”

     “Right, that’s what I said.”

     “You wrote 82.”

     “No I didn- yeah I did. Dammit.” I mumbled, fixing the mistake. “Why did I do that?”

     Cullen shrugged, leaning over to rest his head on my shoulder. “Come on. What’s the next one?”

     I glanced at the clock beside my bed. We’d been trying to put a dent in my math homework for a solid three hours, but it didn’t feel like any of it was sticking, even with Cullen’s best efforts. Granted trying to study on my bed with our backs against the wall may not have been the best place to try, but my dorm had the quiet of a library without the social anxiety of studying around other people. For a few more hours, anyway.

     I sighed, tucking the finished worksheet inside my notebook and hesitantly taking out the next one. “Do we have to do another one?”

     He considered it, but eventually nodded. “Yeah. One more. But if you promise that we’ll finish the rest tomorrow, it can be the last one. Is that fair?”

     “Okaaay...” I rolled my eyes, which got me a Glare. “Whaaat? I told you I hate this stuff.”

     “It’s still important.” He chided, gently elbowing my side.

     “For you, sure. But I’m majoring in art stuff, I ain’t gonna need this.”

     “But what if you did?”

    “...theeeen my super sweet boyfriend would come help me?”

    He laughed, but immediately turned an adorable shade of pink. “Focus, you. A-and don’t look at me like that! Your puppy eyes are unfair.”

    “Psh — have you seen yours?” I asked, hoping to cover up the heat I felt rushing to my face. “You could get the biggest monsters in the Fade to-”

    Cullen planted a chaste kiss to my cheek, cutting that train of thought before it could get anywhere. “Focus. We’re almost done.”

    “R-right!” I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Focusing. Gotcha.”

    He grinned, kissing my temple. “That’s my girl. You’ve got this; just remember what I taught you.”

    Right. Because I was 100% listening the entire time, and never got distracted by how cute you are. Not once.

    “...why are you staring at me? Is everything ok?”

    I nodded, despite knowing my face was turning a brighter shade of red. “Uh huh. Peachy.”

    He smirked, eyeing me curiously. “Would a kiss for every correct answer be better motivation?”

    The speed at which I turned back to my work and started scrawling numbers down on what was left of my scratch paper must’ve been enough of an answer — thankfully, since I wasn’t sure if I could give him a verbal ‘yes’ without my voice going up an octave and looking like a bigger dork than usual. Cullen’s head came to rest on my shoulder again as he watched, gently nudging me or clearing his throat when I’d mix up my numbers. It would’ve been peaceful, if I didn’t have to do math the entire time...

    It took me close to an hour, but the relief that flowed through me as I passed my notebook to Cullen after I’d finished... almost made it worth it. Watching him go through my answers helped, too — his confused head tilt was almost like a puppy’s, and his occasional looks of surprise were super cute, too.

    “Sooo... how’d I do?”

    He hesitated. “Do you want the good news first? Or the bad news?”

    “Uh... bad?”

    “You still missed five of them-” I groaned, burying my face in his arm “-but I think I know why you did.”

    Thankfully, the revision process was much quicker than my original try. Would what he taught me stick this time? It’s debatable, but I wouldn’t put much money on it.

    “Wait, was that the good news?” I asked after we finished fixing everything. “That you knew what part I got so hung up on?”

    Cullen shook his head. “It was that you had the other 25 right. But now that we fixed them, you got all 30.”

    “...riiiight.”

    We sat in silence for a minute as I put my books in my bag and tossed it back to its resting space by the end of my bed. When my attention turned back to Cullen, he was still watching me — smiling, but also like he was waiting for something.

    “...what?”

    He pouted and tossed one of the plushes from my pillows at me, making us both laugh. “Do you want your 30 kisses or not?”

    “OH. Right. I, uh...”

    “Forgot?”

    “Not ‘forgot!’ I just... was so focused on my homework that-”

    “That you forgot.” He giggled. “Maker’s breath — how would you remember anything without me?”

    “I never did,” I admitted, motioning to the perfectly-made bed across the room. “Ask Josie.”

    Cullen shook his head, but he was still smiling. “Come here.”

    I scooted closer to him, resting against the wall again. I started to cross my legs, but he sat up on his knees and planted himself in my lap before I could. We almost bumped foreheads as his hands landed against the wall behind me, turning us both a nice shade of red.

    “Are we still... good?” I asked hesitantly, tilting my head. “’cause I’m still good. Are you? Still, uh...”

    His face softened, smiling as he cupped my cheek and caressed it with his thumb. “Y-yeah. Just a bit... flustered, that’s all.”

    “Ok, cool. Me too.” I giggled, subconsciously resting against his hand. “Should I, like... count these, or...”

    He nodded, brushing my hair away from my face and kissing my forehead, peppering a few more down the side of my face.

    “Right, ok. So that’s one, two, three...”

    “See?” He grinned, kissing my nose. “You are good at math.”

    I snorted. “Dude, I wish. Five- that counted for five, right?”

    “Uh huh.” He cupped my face with both hands, giving my lips a brief kiss. “And that’s six.”

    He quickly pressed his lips to mine again, only pulling away long enough for me to say the next number before drawing me in for another kiss. One of his hands slowly worked its way behind my head, the other guiding my hands to his shoulders, where they probably should’ve been the entire time.

    The kisses kept getting longer, leaving me less time between them to try and remember what number I was supposed to say next.

    “F-fourteen...” I mumbled as he pulled away from my face to trail a few kisses down my neck, “fifffteen—”

    “I told you she’d want boba!! Why the hell did you buy bubbles?!” questioned an upset Cassandra from the hallway outside our dorm.

    “You called it ‘bubble tea’!” was the muffled response, presumably Sera’s. “What else would I get?”

    The whole ruckus caused us both to almost jump out of our skins; Cullen quickly pulled back and stared at me like a panicked deer. “I thought you said they weren’t supposed to be home until later!” he whispered.

    I shrugged, whispering the best reply I had. “Maybe it is later?”

    “Hannah!!”

    “I’m sorry! My blood ain’t exactly rushin’ to my brain right now!”

    “It’s alright, I bought enough for all of us.” Josie piped up from outside, the group’s voices getting louder as they reached our front door. “Could one of you get the door open for me? And, Sera, you know you can’t drink actual bubbles... don’t you?”

    “Pfft! Only if you’re too scared to try.”

    “Ah, mercy-” I mutter, trying to reach for my bookbag, forgetting I’d tossed it to the floor.

    Cullen shook his head, grabbing a textbook from his backpack, which he thankfully hadn’t thrown across the room... unlike me. “We can use one of mine!”

    “Aye, lovebirds! We brought worms!” Sera announced from the next room, giggling to herself.

    Cassandra groaned. “She means we brought food!”

    “Huh. Nest looks empty. Reckon they’re still here?”

    “They have to be,” Josie replied, sitting down whatever she’d been carrying. “Hannah would’ve texted us if they left.”

    Cullen and I were still scrambling to look like we were studying while the footsteps outside kept getting louder. We barely had sat down beside each other again before Sera knocked twice and opened the door. “They’re back here!!” she yelled over her shoulder before looking us up and down and giggling again. “Lookin’ real warm and cozy, too.”

    “You’re supposed to wait after you knock,” Josie reminded her gently, stepping through the doorway. She didn’t say anything at first, but the smirk on her face gave away that we cut it real close. “How’s the studying going?”

    “It’s good!” I answered a bit too quickly, making Cullen elbow my side. “Real — ow — really good. Got all my math right and everything, heh...”

    “Did you now? Is that why you’re using Cullen’s criminology book?”

    He nodded. “She’s... helping me now! S-so it balances out.”

    “Alright.” Sera cut in, grinning. “Then why’s it upside down?”

    “I- uh-”

    “W-well... we were, um...”

    Cassandra had joined the jury now, leaning against the doorframe and sipping from her own boba cup. I caught her gaze, mentally pleading for help, but she just shrugged. “Don’t let me interrupt you.”

    I turned to Cullen, hoping to find some kind of answers there, but his face was redder than a sunset, and he was biting on the end of a stray pencil he’d picked up from somewhere — looking to me for the exact same thing.

    There was no easy way for us to get out of this one.

[nightwingvixen23]

*BatFam carving pumpkins*

Dick : DAMI !!! Aren’t you going to come carve your pumpkin with us all ?!

Damian : Yeah, just a minute !

*1 minute later*

Damian : *appears with sword*

Dick : um. No.

Damian : How the fuck else am I supposed to carve my pumpkin 

Jason : With a little somethin’ called a carving kit genius 

Damian : Carving kits are for simpletons, of which I am not

Tim : Let him

Dick : He could get hurt !

Tim : My point exactly

Stephanie : *eats pumpkin guts*

Cassandra : Ew, Steph ! That’s nasty !

Stephanie : Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it hon

Jason : *eats pumpkin guts* It’s got a slightly bitter flavor to it, but I’m down for it

Dick : Don’t ask to make out tonight. That’s disgusting

Jason : *slowly lets pumpkin guts fall from open mouth*

Duke : ..okay, but....why did I just have to witness that...

Jason : ‘Cause I’m aiming to get a Halloween fuck tonight obviously

Dick : ....

*An hour and a half later*

Tim : I’m finished !!

Dick : Alright every body, let’s each reveal our pumpkin one at a time ! Who wants to go first ?? Jay–Bae ??

Jason : *turns pumpkin*

*silence*

Damian : Um.. Jason ? What in the bloody hell is going on with your pumpkin ?

Stephanie : I like it !

Duke : Question, who’s thong is that ?

Jason : *smirks at Dick*

Dick : *realizing* Oh my god, JASON, what the fuck !?

Jason : Hey you left it out. Can’t let a sexy thing like that go to waste

Tim : oh, gross

Jason : Don’t worry Baby Bird, it’s totally been washed👌

Tim : Not what I was grossed out about but okay

Dick : JAY ! *snatches thong off pumpkin/stuffs in pocket* I’m just gonna pretend this never happened. Like, EVER

Cassandra : My photogenic memory will prove you otherwise

Damian : *high fives Cass* Never let him live this down 

Stephanie : so, like, are you wearing a thong right now or....

Dick : NONE OF YOUR GOD DAMNED BUSINESS !

Jason : *nodding to Steph behind Dick’s back* 

Stephanie : Ooooop 😏

Duke : *awkward as all hell*

Cassandra : In an attempt to get us back on topic, my pumpkin isn’t that good.... *turns pumpkin around*

Jason : Holy hell Cass !! That’s some epic ass Van Gogh ! Right on !

Tim : How can you say that it’s not good, Cass ? It’s fucking mind blowing !

Stephanie : Okay, but how is it scary ?

Duke : Um...have you seen Van Gogh’s paintings of people? That shit is frightening 

Jason : *points carving knife at Duke* HEY ! No one is fuckin’ allowed to throw shade at Van Gogh while I’m present....no one

Duke : 🙌 

Dick : It’s a master piece Cass ! I love it !

Damian : You call that a master piece ? Check mine out bitches 

*stunned silence*

Dick : ....well....we for sure know who the Artistic One’s are in the family

Jason : Mine was pretty damn fuckin’ artistic too, ya know

Dick : I beg to disagree

Tim : I thought we were supposed to make scary pumpkins though ?? 

Stephanie : I take it that you made yours ‘scary’ Timmers ?

Tim : Hell yeah *shows pumpkin*

Jason : *bursts into laughter*

Duke : I don’t know why you’re laughin’, that shit’s scary as fuck 

Stephanie : *shielding her face/sarcastically yelling* NOOOoooo TURN IT AWAY ! MY EYES ! IT’S—IT’S TOO MUCH !

Tim : Fuck off

Stephanie : Speaking of fuck off *dramatically places pumpkin on the table*

Cassandra : Why am I not surprised

Dick : Steph ! That’s so inappropriate, we can’t put that outside, kids will be stopping by !

Stephanie : I know right 

Jason : I dig it. That right there is my mother fuckin’ jam. Up top Steph *high fives*

Duke : *places pumpkin next to Stephanie’s* BAM !

Damian : That’s very clever 

Duke : Oh my god, Damian complimented me ?? Is this real life ??

Tim : So much for anyone else making scary pumpkin carvings

Cassandra : Yours was the furthest thing from scary that I’ve ever seen 😒

Duke : ONCE AGAIN, student loans are NOTHING to fuck with people ! 

Jason : *wraps an arm around Dickie* So baby doll, are you gonna grace us with the gorgeous artistry of your Jack‒o’‒lantern ? Or are ya gonna make me have to beg for it like you so love to hear me do in the bed room 😉

Damian : And just like ‘in the bedroom’ how about you save such disgusting talk for ‘the bed room’

 Jason : Where’s the fun in that ?

Stephanie : C’mon Dick ! Show us your pumpkin ! 

Dick : Okey‒dokey !! *cheerily turns pumpkin around* TAH‒DAH !!

*nothing*

Tim : *trying not to laugh*

Dick : It’s so good that you guys are speechless huh ? 😊Nailed it !! ✌️

Stephanie & Duke : *snorting laughter*

Jason : Babe...you mean to tell me....you worked on that all this fuckin’ time ?

Dick : Yeah, why ?

Damian : All of 2 hours ?

Dick : Yup ! Can’t believe it to be true, right ? *dusts shoulders off dramatically* I’m just that good 🙃

Cassandra : It looks like a traumatized vegetable that has seen some truly messed up bona fide shit and can’t seem to process just what exactly has occurred before it’s terribly misshapen eyes and so gives a terribly misshapen grin out of painfulness. That is a face that cries ‘HELP ME’

Damian : Leave it to Cassandra to serve the truth out cold

Dick : HEY you meanies ! My pumpkin is BEAUTIFUL ! 

Jason : *takes a hold of Dick’s face/cooing* Awww yes it is baby, yes it is *kisses him*

Dick : *pouting* 

Duke : Alright, let’s get these things out on the porch before Bruce gets home, ya know, to surprise him and all

Tim : Roger that !

*later that night*

Bruce : *heading up the Manor walkway*

Bruce : *stops*

 Bruce : and they wonder why people are so wary to get to know us...

🎃👻🎃The End lol Happy Halloween peeps🎃👻🎃

[soulgathered-a]

@caimkairos​ asked : It's a sort of lingering presence, like the tug outwards of something freed from a trap. It once was something that should not belong, but now resides. Something that should not be in the Grecian underworld. But regardless, it is a smell like honeysuckle, like bloody flowers, and it is the weight of a body completely laying on Cassandra, partially through the effort, but partially because this presence, as always, is a menace. "You thought yourself to be rid of me?" It is a deep voice, after all. Almost mocking. But something within it, despite the intonations, is soft. Concerned. (A curse that brings such a monster forth even after death could only have terrible conditions set.) "Last Queen of Troy. You forget." But it's then the sort of embrace that surrounds a person, lets them be completely hidden from the world, and they manuever her into their chest, where a fell heart beats. (Their heart, of course, would not exist in Shikigami. This one is real.) "To earn the love of a monster means to never escape it. This Ashiya Douman, as such, is your eternal hunter and plague."

it is a strange thing to exist with memories of a life she had not lived. she cannot recall when that cassandra had appeared... less than a shade. terrified and alone. she had accepted her memories, had made her a part of herself. most of the time she could ignore it. they were now one and the same, but there is rarely a reason to remember that other troy.

though during the hours in which all her memories seemed to weight down on her, she would find herself wishing for the company of another... to have them by her side. she closes her eyes, sighing... and then gasping for air as a familiar body lays on top of her.

could ghosts see ...well. ghosts? they were not supposed to be here. eyes widen and for a moment she cannot say anything, simply stare in awe up at douman. until the tears start to roll down her cheeks.

everything came back at once. every bit of loss and grief, but instead of screaming, she wraps her arms around them, hiding in their embrace, disappearing into it “you found me. you stubborn fool.” her stubborn fool. hers, hers and only hers. they are the one person she does not need to cry over. the one person that cannot be taken from her.

“earned and kept. you know I am a greedy woman. I will not allow you to take that love away from me.” she rests against their chest, listening to their heartbeat. what a precious little sound... “if I cannot escape then I guess I must relent to my fate and love the monster in return - though I think, I have done that for a long time now. and shall for an even longer eternity.”

[thecreativegeorge]

The Implications of Overly Masculine Heroes

Okay, so we can’t exactly rip off Indiana Jones, Thor Odinsson or Clark Kent, but when I asked my mother to name some Overly Masculine Heroes, these are her offerings. (Yes, mother, I am proud you named Thor.) And these men are the reason men run the risk of developing testosterone poisoning.

There are heroes who define what it means to be masculine. With muscles, girls as prizes to win at the end of the quest, and fast cars. These are the men of the ‘80s, and I’m surprised my mother didn’t mention the A-Team (though, to be fair, I said “heroes” and not “guys”).

One of the main problems of these men is that, because they are the definition of masculinity, they tell males how to and how to not behave. They reinforce the stereotype of Heterosexual Male in a Quest, where the prize at the end is A Fair Maiden.

No, not in this time period.

There is some great literature out there which deconstruct this stereotype, such as Rick Riordan’s Heroes of Olympus and Magnus Chase, or Cassandra Clare’s Shadowhunter Chronicles. And yes, I do realise I’m naming young adult and teen fiction. But that’s where this awesomeness lies.

And this is bad for current adults.

But in terms of younger writers and readers, it teaches that it’s okay to not have muscles. It teaches that it’s okay to not be heterosexual or to fit the gender binary.

Because the world is full of shades of grey and blurred lines. Your work should reflect this.

But this is not a lesson on social acceptance. It’s a lesson on how to avoid stereotypes.

Firstly, I’d suggest you “ask” your characters who they are as a person.

Then, you ask yourself why you’re including this in the story. Because “diversity” isn’t good enough. Readers can tell when something’s just been added in for the sake of adding it in.

Characters don’t need to be perfect. Perfect is an ideal. It’s poison, it rots society. Your characters have flaws which make them relatable and likeable. Your flaws are what makes a character human (if they are, in fact, human).

Maybe your overly masculine hero has a sexual dysfunction he’s hiding. Or a tiny penis. Because someone with those muscles cannot be a perfect human. A perfect human is impossible to achieve unless you’re a saint.

No, don’t write about a saint. What are you, a Christian author from the Late Medieval Period?

I’m tempted to include a bit about the science of testosterone poisoning, you know, like I did about what drinking blood does to humans? But then I decided against it. Because I’m ranting about muscles and low-key bitching about romance novels.

Moving on, let’s discuss how masculinity affects the plot.

One blog post I read a while ago said you shouldn’t think about the gender of your narrator as a deciding factor for writing it. Or that it should play a part, at all, in deciding who does what, when, and why.

Because gender should not be a factor in the actions of your characters.

This is called toxic masculinity. It is where society says a man is strong, emotionless, and earns all the money. He drinks beer and likes violent sports. He drives fast cars and treats women like prized possessions.

Insert the song, “You Don’t Own Me”.

Now, I don’t know about you, but that generalisation doesn’t apply to every man on the planet. And as such, it shouldn’t apply to every character who was born with certain genitalia.

Where there’s a character, there’s a cliché and a stock character. There’s a Manly Man and a Sensitive Guy. There’s the Straight Gay and the Raging Gay. There’s a character trope for everything, and whether or not it’s written well depends on how the author handles the characterisation.

I suppose the female equivalent for this is the Femme Fatale, the sultry woman who seduces men for whatever reason. Dresses in revealing dresses and has bright red lipstick. She’s usually the bad guy, or knows the bad guy, or works for the bad guy. James Bond probably slept with her at some point.

But the problem with manly heroes and seductive women is that they reinforce certain gender norms.

This is going back to the eighties and the use of women as props. We should be past this; our male characters should deal with their emotions like a mentally stable person. Our female leads should treat men as people and not eye candy.

This is about equality and respect.

Women are more than seductresses and prizes to be won. Women are more than empty vessels for the reader to squeeze into who react to the story at large. This should be reflected in the books we read and write.

Men are more than action heroes and lone rangers. Men are more than shallow and vaguely abusive love interests for the female lead to idealise. This should be reflected in the books we read and write.

As I mentioned in my article on villains, every character has a goal and motive.

Every character.

Every character must have a purpose for being in your story. And I do mean beyond “but my lead needs a love interest.” What actual role does your character have in the story?

How does your love interest move the plot forward?

Your love interest needs a real reason for your inclusion of them in the story. Are they also the mentor? The sidekick? Princess Leia was, I argue, the mentor. Han Solo was the contagonist. Fight me on this.

What message have I tried to convey in this rant?

Well, I’ll give the short and sweet answer to that question. Mills and Boons is not a good idea if you want diversity. But anyway:

Overt masculinity has been relegated to the last century. This does not reflect the current times and views. Unless your book is set in the eighties, don’t have big muscles, a fast car, and a girl as a prize for completing a quest.

No man is perfect, ladies. Everyone has flaws. Characters have flaws. And if I read one more story where the female narrator harps on about how perfect her love interest is, I’m assuming he has either a sexual dysfunction or a tiny penis.

Women are more than love interests for men. Men are more than Greek statues for women to gawk at. So why am I still reading that shit?

I realised that this article turned into a social rant on equality. I’m kind of not sorry.

Now, go forth and think about the implications of overly masculine heroes.

[cassandra-pentughasst]

if you'd like a song still: florence - landscape

Ok so I took some of the lyrics literally and kinda stayed within the realm of the first few lines but I think it works (its nearly 3am  ignore me)I’m saying thankyou an\d apologising to you in advance for murdering your feelings but hope you enjoy this anywayShe finds her, still and unmoving as the trees shift around her in the wind.She’s drenched, that much she can tell, and her lips are taking on a sickly shade of blue that worries her. But she doesn’t protest when Cassandra takes her place beside her. Or when she pulls her close, trying to share what warmth she can.She’s a mess. Khol smudged and running around her eyes and her hair plastered to her face - the normal bright silver a dull grey that matches both her mood and the sky above them. She doesn’t need to see her bloodshot eyes to know she’s been crying. Not that she can tell her tears from the rain on the pale skin of her cheeks. Her vallaslin is stark, the winding branches looking like the roots of the old trees that stand around them like silent guardians - a bright emerald green against a solemn grey sky. A shade of emerald that matches the name of the place they stand. And knowing what she does about the Dalish she suspects that each tree is an unmarked grave to a people that haven’t had a place to call home for several ages. And looking at the forest of graves around them her heart hurts in a way that surprises her. Not because she is unfeeling. But because she knows that hurt pales in comparison she knows the woman shivering in her arms is probably feeling right now. “They say that the trees here are planted exactly where the bodies of the dead fell,” Ellana says quietly, stepping closer into Cassandra’s embrace, shivering. “Seeing how many there are makes me realise how lucky I am to even be standing here at all,”Cassandra doesn’t miss the unspoken implication that Ellana’s ancestor’s rest here somewhere amongst the silent and ancient trees.“I’m - I don’t know what to say,”“Does anyone?”“I suppose not,” Cassandra sighs, kissing Ellana’s crown. “I do know you need to get out of this rain though before you catch a cold,” Ellana doesn’t protest and she follows her quietly as they walk back towards the Chateau that they had driven the rebel troops out of days earlier. She remains silent as Cassandra leads her into one of the rooms that they had claimed for themselves, only letting go of her hand to close and lock the door behind her. She sits quietly when Cassandra leads her over to one of the chairs at the small table in the corner and helps her strip out of her cold and rain-soaked clothes, drying her body and her hair as best as she can with a frayed blanket she found in one of the chests in the room before wrapping it around her. As she braids the long strands of hair she wonders just how long Ellana was out in the rain because watching the way she shivers Cassandra knows a hot bath would be best for warming Ellana. But this place is far from ideal and such things are a luxury, so she settles for leaving to find a hot meal and hot water. When she returns she finds that Ellana hasn’t moved from where she left her and silence feels like it’s settling like a landscape between them as they eat.Cassandra knew that their time in the Emerald Graves would be difficult for Ellana. But she had hoped that she would come to her for help if things got too much for her to deal with. Which she now knows that they had.Cassandra watches as Ellana drains the last of her tea, thankful to see that the shivers that had been wracking her small frame had finally subsided.She feels her eyes follow her as she gathers Ellana’s wet clothes, spreading them out in front of the fireplace before she stokes it with fresh wood, the heat beginning tp fill the small room quickly.She strips out of her own wet clothes, and they join the rest of Ellana’s on the floor.Ellana finally moves when she starts turning down the bedsheets, huddles against her when a crack of thunder rattles the glass in the window across the room. “You are not weathering this storm alone my love,” Cassandra sighs shifting into a more comfortable position “I hope you know that.”“I - I’m trying to remember that,” Ellana replies quietly. Cassandra knows that Ellana struggles with asking for help when she needs it. Knows because Cassandra feels the same way herself.Maybe Ellana needed to find her way back to dry land on her own. But that didn’t mean Cassandra couldn’t be the lighthouse guiding her back to shore.

[lyrium-lavellan]

OC Interview

Thanks to @badpriestessofbuttsburgh for tagging me! Anyone who wants to do this is welcome to it! I’ll tag @bakedsweetroll @zeesqueere @lavelland 🌺

1. What’s your name?

Velahris Lavellan, though most people just call me Vel.

2. Do you know why you are named that?

My name had a special meaning to my parents. Something like “Endless song”, though that’s a very rough translation.

3. Are you single or taken?

[soft, knowing chuckle] Isn’t it obvious? Maybe Varric doesn’t tell everyone... Taken. If you want more details, ask the dwarf.

4. Have any abilities or powers?

I guess suppressing my magic for years counts. Also, I have a stronger connection to the Fade than most. I suppose I always have, though with the Anchor it’s far more intense.

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

Huh? What’s that?

6. What’s your eye color?

Blue. Varric always says they’re “blue as a lyrium vein”. [longing sigh] So romantic.

7. How about your hair color?

Well, it’s... Red. Auburn, I guess? I’ve never really thought much about the exact shade.

8. Have any family members?

My parents and two brothers, one older and one younger. Silvhen and Ethelan. My parents and older brother are Grey Wardens, and my little brother was a Circle mage.

9. Oh? How about any pets?

I have two cats! Paragon and Warden. Cole found a cat at Skyhold who had a litter, and we cared for the kittens together. I couldn’t bear to part with those two, so I kept them. They’re spoiled rotten, the sweet things.

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like. 

Cassandra’s lectures. She means well, but well... It’s a bit much sometimes. I’m an adult - I can make my own decisions well enough without her interference.

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

I cook! Sometimes I’ll embroider, or any number of things really. What I like best though is a good ride through the forest on horseback. Or, halla-back. Either way, it’s so refreshing!

12. Have you hurt anyone in any way before?

I... Suppose I have. Hasn’t everyone?

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

Yes.

14. What kind of animal are you?

I suppose if I had to choose, a Halla. They’re so graceful!

15. Name your worst habits?

I... tend to cry. I’m quite emotional, unfortunately [giggles]. I also have a bit of a sweet tooth...

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

I look up to so many people. My soldiers, my advisors, my Inner Circle... I couldn’t list all of them. But... I suppose I’ll have to try, won’t I?

Solas’ mind is fascinating. His knowledge and wisdom has never failed me, and I always seek his counsel on decisions I have to make. He’s like a father to me.

Blackwall... I admire him so much. His determination, his quest for justice. He reminds me of ‘Vhen, actually. It’s... comforting.

Then there’s Josephine. She’s always polite and sweet, but never too much. She’s still genuine. I appreciate it more than words could say.

And Varric, he’s... So full of kindness. He brings light and laughter into my life, and I don’t know what I’d do without him. I... I love him very much.

[Varric, from across the room] “I heard that, Clover!”

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

Bisexual. Though, I haven’t had many relationships with men.

18. Do you go to school?

No. Whatever I know, I taught it to myself. Magic, reading and writing, ancient elvhen. Although my Keeper did teach me a few things.

19. Ever want to marry and have any kids one day?

I’d like that very much. I’ve always wanted a family, but, well... I’m not sure if it’s even possible for an elf and a dwarf to...

[Varric, chuckling] “Oh, it’s possible, sweetheart. Just unlikely.”

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

I definitely have a few admirers at the Orlesian court. They send me jewels and gowns from time to time, along with fan letters. It’s flattering, if I’m honest. For Orlesian nobles to even tolerate an elf in a position of power, let alone like me...

21. What are you most afraid of?

Failure. I’m afraid I’ll misstep and everything will come crashing down around me. I can’t let my people down. But... I won’t.

22. What do you usually wear?

I’m partial to loose fitting blouses and leather trousers, but I’ll wear pretty much anything as long as it’s not a hat. They never sit right on my ears... For more formal occasions I’ll opt for robes or a gown, usually in blue or red silk. Dorian’s assured me that red is my color, but I think Varric and Hawke put him up to it just so I’d match with them.

[Hawke, from the bar] “Now, that’s no fair! You look ravishing in red, your inquisitorialness!”

23. What one food tempts you?

Maker, those little frilly cakes they had at Halamshiral I must have had fifty seven before Josephine pulled me away from the dessert table. I don’t regret it, but since then I’ve had a few extra pounds packed on my backside that I can’t seem to shed.

[Varric, winking from across the table] “Hey, I’m not complaining.”

24. Am I annoying you?

Of course not!

25. Well, it’s still not over!

Good, I’ve only just got started!

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

Well, I’m Dalish, so I don’t really know where that fits in your human hierarchy. Though I suppose now, since I’m Inquisitor, that’s bumped me up in standing a little.

27. How many friends do you have?

I have quite a few people I’m lucky to call my friends.

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

All types of pie are delicious and wonderful!

29. Favourite drink?

Fresh, warm halla milk. It’s so creamy... [stomach growl] Fen’harel’s teeth, this is making me hungry...

30. What’s your favourite place?

Wherever my dear dwarf is.

[Varric, sarcastically] “Oh, how romantic. I’ll have to make my way into a sewer next!”

Shush! But I suppose it’s my family tree. It’s just outside of Starkhaven. I remember going there with my Keeper when I was young, when Ethelan carved his name into the bark. It holds so many stories... I hope to take my children there someday.

31. Are you interested in anyone?

[Varric] “Of course she is! I’m very interesting.”

32. That was a stupid question…

Suppose so. Now, let’s move on!

33. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

Either one! Though, lakes remind me more of my childhood. Dalish tend to frolic, and lakes are good for that.

34. What’s your type?

I don’t think I really have a type. I just... love who I love. But I seem to have a thing for kind people.

35. Any fetishes?

[spit take] What? I... erm...

[Varric, leaning over] “That’s for me to know, and you to never find out.”

36. Camping indoors or outdoors?

Outdoors! The smell of the forest, the wind in the trees, sleeping under the stars... [sigh] There’s nothing like it!