#no longer a maiden ↠ char ↠ poppy balfour

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Poppy trying not to think about Kieran after finding out about The Joining

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@feyrae said: [ 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 ] acts of affection

it was such an absentminded gesture when his long, feather-gentle fingertips caught the ginger strand that had strayed across poppy’s forehead and tucked it back into its home behind her ear, the simple touch seemingly more out of instinct or habit than intention. he was hardly paying attention to her as he doled out directions to the guards and wolven around them. no, he wasn’t paying attention, but he always saw her and never missed a beat. not even one little strand of hair. looking at him, one would never know the stress of their harrowing journey. she recalled him mentioning how he was due for a haircut, but she enjoyed the midnight shade of his waves and the piece that often liked to fall over his forehead, softening his sharp, beautiful features. he was certainly the image of whatever royalty and authority she could dream up. she didn’t hear the words he exchanged with the wolven, the voices and commotion around them a deafening white noise that left her thoughts echoing in the limitless chambers of her head. she didn’t process whatever he said, but it sounded mature and commanding and wise and entirely unlike any prince foregoing his title. he sounded like a king. he would be king one day, he had to know that, whether he liked it or not. she had a feeling he would, though. his love for his kingdom and those in it was not lost on her and she’d yet to see more than a handful of moments of it thus far. 

she reached up and caught the hand that still rested among her mess of red waves and laced her fingers with his, catching a glimpse of the gold that reflected in her palm. that metallic color had become her favorite, the swirl in her palm, the band that wrapped around her index finger, the honey of his irises that was only contained by the defining black ring around them. something dark surrounding something impossibly warm. kieran’s words rang in her memory again about how he was the only thing that only she didn’t have to fear. she wished that weren’t true, longed for even his greatest enemies to see the good heart that resided under that expensive armor, but she understood the facade, gods, she understood. he would be the “dark one” when he needed to get things done and she would be more than prepared to remind him how gentle and real and worthy his soul was despite it. remind him of his warmth. she gave his hand a gentle squeeze at her side and her other curled around his bicep to hug his arm loosely in contentment. pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder, she tore her gaze from his face to rest her temple against him as her eyes roamed over their companions. to have companions...she shuddered in awe. he continued to change her life in more ways than one, between each sweet utterance of “princess,” and every tender little touch of his fingertips left along her arms, her her palms, her ears when he tucked her hair back like he just had. for the first time in her life she looked forward to what that change would mean with each passing day.

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@inkedmoonlight said: 45. a kiss on the hipbone. x

If she were being honest with herself, she’d have admitted to being awake a while earlier, but something kept her from wanting to let her eyelids slip open, teetering on the edge of sleep and clinging to it for just a little bit longer. She had a feeling he would be able to see through her tired lie. She could feel the warmth of sunlight from the window heating her face and when she felt the soft pressure of something plush over her hipbone through the thin cotton that covered her, she sighed. After her lashes fluttered open, she nearly gasped at the sight of her husband resting his temple against her hip where she’d felt his kiss a moment earlier. He looked impossibly innocent down there with his golden gaze peering up at her and some of his black waves spilling onto her lap. If she didn’t know better, she would think there was no way this soft man could make soldiers shake in their boots, but she’d for herself how wicked that tender gaze could be. Poppy could have sworn that that she saw some warmth reflected in his soft strands and she lifted her fingertips to stroke through his hair with the delicacy of a glass feather, as though to check. “You win. I’m awake.”

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@feyrae said: “What’s wrong?” ( from Casteel )

none of them could afford for her to be at anything less than peak performance when wielding a weapon, and she’d gone irresponsibly long without. it felt good, the leather binding of the handle of her bow now warm from the heat of her calloused palms. a few whisps of copper hair had fallen around her face, just barely too short--or broken, admittedly--to fit back into her loose braid. a strand tickled her nose, but that was the least of her distractions. she’d expected nothing less than for casteel to be short on her heels whenever attempting something that even smelled of violence, and his commentary had been enough to pull her arrows inches away from the center of her target on the wide tree a few paces away. his last comment finally caught her attention and she bit down on her lip to keep from smiling. when her eyes flickered over to him, she didn’t miss the innocent who, me? look spanning his chiseled, tanned features. she was quick to change targets as she whirled, taking aim just over his shoulder and releasing, her arrow sinking into the depths of a tree several feet behind him. “oh, nothing. not one thing at all.”

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@feyrae​ said:  “How could I ever get bored of your company? You’re far too interesting for anyone to grow tired of you.” ( to poppy from cas )

x

she wanted to want to select a book. she had wanted to at some point, sometime since they entered the room, though he was impossibly distracting and her intentions got lost in a shallow breath she slowly released. her skin grew warmer and a long shiver rolled down her spine, which was thankfully turned toward where he stood a blessed several feet back. he was rather generous with those comments---compliments?---he offered and she still had yet to learn a proper response to a single one of them. she wasn’t sure there was a proper response, and most things she could think of were unsuited to her. in all fairness to herself, she doubted most people had to internalize their responses to depths the maiden had.  “i hardly think you’re one to speak for everyone,” she pointed out, tossing a glance over her shoulder and quickly regretting it when she remembered her inflamed cheeks. green eyes traced over the high planes of his cheekbones for a moment. “when we’ve well established that your preferences are...unusual.” as she turned back toward the bookcase, her thoughts fell to the cool sheath of the dagger that rested against her thigh, a lifeline he loved to tempt.

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i’m less interested in the goddess that stopped poppy from walking off a cliff and more interested in who or what compelled her to walk toward it in the first place.

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plotted starter for @feyrae

poppy was not used to being liked, but she was even less used to being disliked. more importantly, she wasn’t used to being acknowledged in the first place. no one liked nor disliked the maiden. she wasn’t used to people having opinions about her or what she should do. there had been simply what she would and had to do. even that concept felt worlds away at this point. she had admitted to herself that whatever it was they were doing still felt like some outlandish fever dream. she didn’t have dreams for herself, or goals, not outside of finding her brother, which was something she couldn’t even begin to plan if she wanted to. casteel may have had himself convinced that he knew how things would pan out once they’d reached his home, but she wasn’t so sure. she could feel ice and hatred rush cold through her veins in the mere presence of the handful of the few atlantians she had met. her nose wrinkled. things hadn’t gotten much easier in their makeshift home. home. against her better judgement, she caught herself thinking the word, one she so often avoided. she had called castle teerman home out of obligatory habit, an obvious well if not here, where else? but it had never felt like one. this wasn’t home either, and she couldn’t say much for atlantia, but as the word, home, flashed through her mind once again, she tasted something bittersweet, casteel’s face forcing itself into her consciousness. the pulsing in her chest stuttered. she and her heart teetered on dangeous, heart-wrenching territory and she knew it. it hurt. it hurt to think of atlantia, and how it already felt like a lost, haunted void where she’d surely leave pieces of her heart with him when the time for the divorce came. poppy’s hands came up to rub her face. an utter disaster. she’d taken to...not hiding in the bedroom for the remainder of the afternoon, per se, but rather avoiding the increasingly irritated and deeply devoted atlantians who had sneered at her in any stolen moment they could find. no one liked nor disliked the maiden, but the souls navigating the very building she was confined to certainly disliked their bestowed princess.

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B&A Canon Divergence ;; Poppy & Casteel

Due to the out of character nature of the scenes, my portrayals of Poppy and Casteel do not acknowledge either of these scenes as sexual in nature:

The scene in the woods in FBAA after Poppy had stabbed Casteel and he’d bitten poppy. I understand them having sex was meant to be a band-aid for the conflict but how it happened doesn’t sit right with me and I will not reflect this in my portrayals.

The scene in AKOFAF when Cas lost control of his bloodlust. Consent was dubious for both characters in this scene and in my portrayals I will only regard this scene as follows: Cas lost control of his hunger, Poppy tried to help him regain control, Kieran came in to help. I see no reason for the sexual element of this scene to be necessary, and frankly I’m not comfortable with it.

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@malaflamed​ said: 💋 // poppy send 💋 to straight up kiss my muse!

          whiskey tickled her veins and left angel kisses along her skin. poppy was often cold, noticeably cold to the touch by others, and was grateful for the gentle blanket the alcohol offered. she could hear music playing somewhere, seemingly softer than it had been earlier in the evening, and her tired mind was too lazy to figure out if that was a matter of a change in volume or if her awareness had dimmed with the evening sky. they’d been curled up on the seat of a large bay window that had been generously decorated with embroidered pillows, some of which had fallen to the ground. It was just wide enough to fit them both side by side, though their ankles were crossed over one another to conserve space. and for comfort. it was peaceful resting against aelin. she wasn’t sure how long they’d been there. initially they’d moved to the window to watch the starts come out. poppy didn’t know much about them and she wasn’t personally convinced that aelin did either. their backs against one of the end windows and the labelless bottle was wedged safely between them, still somehow only a third of the way empty. had it even been full when they started? she had her doubts, though with her lightweight tolerance, she probably didn’t need much more. “i bet i could fall asleep right here.” poppy murmured as she her head lolled to the side to rest on her shoulder. 

          the motion stirred a soft scent, something light and clean and comforting, and refocusing her eyes away from the window to the woman next to her she saw it was a lock of blonde hair that brushed her own cheek. a small fire licked away at a fireplace deeper into the room and it’s ember light gleamed just enough off of her that for a moment, poppy really did wonder if her strands were spun of golden silk. her breath caught as hyperawareness flooded her senses, sobering her mind slightly, but setting her skin alight with nervousness where she felt the gentle, comforting pressure of her arm resting against her. she wasn’t experienced in much, but she knew that hesitant excitement of newness, a barely-contained desire to be close with someone who cared. she didn’t have many of those anymore. neither did aelin. poppy’s face turned just slightly toward her and her lips brushed her shoulder as she did. she wasn’t sure who moved first after her heavy lashes lifted to gaze over her lovely carved features, but didn’t question it when she met her mouth with a near-silent gasp. 

          soft. she was soft. just as she would have imagined if she were allowed to think so wistfully. the maiden wasn’t to want things or people or touch. she had been barely allowed one friend. she’d made a habit of burying her feelings and wishes and even though she’d long abandoned her title, she felt a weight shrug off of her shoulders as she stretched closer and twisted her torso aelin’s way. she was careful, withholding her ability as she lifted a hand to brush over her cheek. despite being ever curious she let aelin’s feelings have their privacy, in favor of the gentle, organic touch as she brushed her hair behind her ear. if she wanted to share, she would. she nearly hoped she might. she didn’t take it further, didn’t draw her closer. she wouldn’t tempt rejection. a simple kiss. a sudden, slow chill prickled down her spine as she parted just slightly. eyes fluttered to her unusual shade of turquoise and then back down to the shape of her mouth. and there it returned again. warmth. but different this time, not an internal, emotional heat, but an external one, one that threw shades of pink that she only hoped the other couldn’t see over her cheeks and her neck. “i’m sorry...” her voice came as a whisper, but she didn’t move. 

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Poppy really did the wedding experience right; ignored literally everyone. She did not notice a single fucking person there. I am not entirely sure she even knew what was happening, just looked hot, stared at her hot husband and dipped. Queen shit. 10/10 experience and i LOVE that for her.

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Guess what I'm thinking about the chapter again and I'm not okay.

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headcanon ;; poppy

Poppy's favorite color is and has always been green. Really any shade of green, but especially warm, earthy tones. As she starts wearing colors as opposed to white, she realizes she also really loves pink as well, namely blush pink.

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@malaflamed said: by ‘ come by, ’ do you mean stumble in, bleeding half to death? ’ 

claire temple prompts

          poppy gaped as she stood to her feet, her red hair a few inches below the blonde, light insult coloring her tone as her arms crossed her chest. “excuse me? i may not heal like you do but rarely do I ever receive more than a scratch, thank you very much,” she defended with a soft huff. she wasn’t actually upset, but since abandoning her veil, her title, she’d found herself getting more and more defensive about her capabilities. she had skills unlike what many civilians could do, indeed, but they also could do basic things she’d never had reason to know. now that she no longer had to hide the fact that vikter had trained her to not only hold her own, but to protect others, she found pride keeping her on the offensive at sometimes the smallest triggers. “besides, last thing anyone needs is for you to get all murderous, too.”

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@malaflamed said: ❛ When I fell on my ass, they should have just left me out there. ❜ at poppy

a heavy way to begin an interaction, poppy decided, though it wasn’t anything she shouldn’t have expected. in her defense, she’d never properly been in a pub before. the closest she had come was interestingly her one night at the red pearl, the brothel where she had met hawke---casteel. a name she was still learning to call him by, though who was he, really? apparently, a dark prince with wicked intentions of ransom, something she’d have no part in. he’d lost the privilege of his affectionate former alias. she’d lost the safety that false name had once made her feel. she was sure he or one of his wolven had noticed that she’d abandoned camp by then, wich was why she’d gone as far as she could, on what sleep and food she had. night had fallen and she didn’t know this area. she wouldn’t be so foolish as to try and navigate it in the dark. with her luck, she would end up running right back where she had come, or worse---into the arms of the ascended. that was an interaction she wouldn’t come unscathed from based on sheer numbers, her training be damned.

she felt exposed, despite how irrational it was to think anyone might recognize her. she’d spent most of her life hidden behind a veil; if anything were to draw attention to her, she had a feeling it would be the scars over the left side of her face that often made strangers grimace and turn away after they were caught staring. the voice had come from behind her. poppy wasn’t sure the woman saw her as she started to approach the bartop, or if she had merely caught wind of a solitary ramble. she turned and green eyes settled on a glass of something she didn’t yet recognize on the table.  “perhaps,” she agreed for no real reason, auburn brows pulling together in thought as she eyed the seat across from the blonde. her voice came surprisingly evenly for someone who had no clue what their next step was. “but life can be a lot more fun when you get up.” that was what she was trying to do, at least, though she’d hardly describe any of it as fun.

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me @ poppy