@zetsubousei-bot liked for a starter!

The day had been long and drawn out, and Celes didn’t really have any pressing issues to attend to. So here she was, sat under a parasol outside her favourite cafe. The gambler brought the cup she held delicately in her hands to her lips and took a sip of the tea inside, closing her eyes and basking in the afternoon glow. Today was calm, and peaceful, and rid of unnecessary trifles - something that she would refer to as ‘the perfect day’.

You can plan for a change in the weather and time, but I never planned on you changing your mind.  So I’ll go sit on the floor wearing your clothes.  All that I know is I don’t know how to be something you miss.  Never thought we’d have a last kiss.  Never imagined we’d end like this.  Your name, forever the name on my lips, just like our last kiss.
—  Taylor Swift, “Last Kiss”
Continued from Here - http://pretty-kitty-noir.tumblr.com/post/138003137560/ladyandprincess-marinette-or-ladybug-whoever

A cool brush against her cheek had her brows furrowing. The feeling was far too isolated to be a breeze in her room, even more so when the cool touch wasn’t moving.

The hand near lips drifted over towards the cool touch, yet stopped when she felt more than heard someone say her name.

Something in the back of her mind told her she should be afraid of what was going on, but another voice was nearly singing over the familiar feeling of comfort that the strange presence was giving off. Safe. She was safe.

“Chat?” She whispered, her voice still strained from earlier that night. “A-Adrien?” She paused only a moment as the name slipped past her lips, disbelief threading her voice as fresh tears started to well in her eyes.


she’s got lips like a wound
spilling over red on her teeth 
like wine
she bleeds when she speaks
her heart works hard
to keep her head heard

she’s got eyes like coal
they fuel the fire in her mind
and smolder when she’s heated
she can see in smoke
because she’s always teary

she’s got hair like a nest
where a magpie lives
it collects bright things
and keeps them in her head
so they won’t fly away

she’s got a body like a knife
small and hidden in her coat
she doesn’t let people close
enough to see her edges
or their reflection in herself

she’s a gash in your side, a cold black carbon
a windswept mess or a short sharp blade
most of all she’s a person
and she forgets that too
when she speaks she bleeds
because’s she’s human

Trying to write your Dragon Age Inquisition fanfic while drowning in Star Wars and Poe Dameron feels:

Mission impossible!

continued for @wildhearted

               Her expression turned into something more SYMPATHETIC with a obvious pout not adorning her features. “ Oh Q —. “ She says, giving her head a shake, not in disagreement but as if she was pitying him. Though it was definitely done to TEASE him further because she was always TRIED taking it easier on him than most. Her hand comes up to clap against his shoulder, now with her lips BECOMING pursed and bordered a cheeky smirk. “ I would but then that would be all to easy. “

♘ ℚ ♞ “Pardon me but could you please remove your hand from my shoulder?” She was teasing him like he was a child. It was pathetic and it annoyed him. “You do realize that I’m an adult. This isn’t funny to me, so if you want to have a conversation with me, I’d prefer it be serious. Instead of standing there and taking me for a child, you could treat me like the adult I am." 

@ride-the-bull [ Broad chest, broken leg ]

That fight was a glorious mess. Every beat of her wings threatened to pull even the Bull off his feet, the sound of her tail cracking through the air like a whip nearly drowned out the thundering beat of his heart. The air was thick and heavy with the metallic taste of blood and the lightning she spewed from her lips.

The Bull saw Blackwall fall beneath her bulk, but it was a mere footnote in his mind, something he’d tackle when the dragon wasn’t charging right at him.

In spite of his best efforts, it was Sera who brought him down. He practically felt her arrow skim past his scalp as it flew past and burrowed itself in the hollow of her throat.

“Shiiiiiiit… You’re the best, boss! That was amazing!” Like a kid in a bakery, the Bull laughed merrily once his mind returned to him. He very nearly fell in step behind the boss when he remembered Blackwall.

To his credit, the old warrior hid his injury well. The Bull wasn’t quite sure what Blackwall was trying to hide, but there was something just a little off about the way he moved. Broken ribs, a leg, his hip? Even he wasn’t willing to hazard a guess and kept his guesses to himself as he spoke to the Warden.

Obviously, it didn’t go over well with him. The Bull sighed and tried a different approach. “I’m serious. Don’t think I didn’t see her try to crush you like a cockroach, Blackwall. You’re never going to dance again if you fuck up your back to protect your pride.”

He very nearly laughed at that, if he wasn’t already gritting his teeth to hide the way the pain of his injury drove up his spine. He’d broken bones plenty of times before, but being very nearly crushed by a dragon– well, there’s a first for everything. 

His brows pinch and he waves it off. “I’ve never been one for dancing.” A lie, but Bull doesn’t need to know the details of a past life. He glances toward the disappearing backs of Sera and the Inquisitor, weighing his options, knowing full well the damage done to his leg before looking back up at the Qunari.

     “…–It’s my leg.” He’s loathed to admit. “It… might be broken.” It most certainly was broken, but playing down the severity of an injury, might get him out of being carried

“I can walk on it.” He can’t, but he’s damned to try. “–probably need a cane, at my age.” Joking about it doesn’t alleviate the pain, but it helps ease the embarrassment. 


“Oh, yes, because surely I wouldn’t kill you on sight.”

His tone was heavily laced in sarcasm as he rolled his eyes with a slight curl of his lips, honestly. You’d think that they’d know this obvious answer by now, but apparently not. “I wouldn’t kill you upon sight, Pharaoh. Oh, no, no… That’d be far too quick a death. I’d rather it be a methodical, beautiful death caused by my hand, after much plotting and seeing whether or not I don’t just entertain myself with your fear.”

His lips pulled back in a sneer as he rolled his eyes, “Now. What was this about some petty little… ‘truce’ that you speak of?”

“———But of course. I would expect no less from you provided you were to actually catch me slipping. Even then though, I’m afraid you would be terribly 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓽𝒆𝓭. I grew tired of you c e n t u r i e s ago. My death would only free me from the burden of your hate and honestly? The thought’s not far removed from my mind. I fear I may embrace said death with open arms.”

    He sighed, reaching up to rub his temples. The whole night was quickly tanking—-no. It tanked the moment someone had the audacity to mention tentacles made only worse by anons inquiring as to if he’d ever consider laying with his nemesis. He oft wondered if they only encountered those with a death wish. If so, then that would explain such a question.

    “Why waste breath speaking of truces when you’ve made it abundantly clear that you await the day with a certain amount of elation when you can finally torment me into a slow demise? I would rather continue my method of avoiding you than let breath fall upon deaf ears. Worry not. I won’t be climbing into your bed this night.”

Take it Away


“Bellissa!” Jezabel slammed her fist onto the door, harder and harder. “Bellissa, please, I need a favor.” Anger and despair threaded through her voice and she resisted the urge to just break down the door and run inside.

The last time she had been here, it had been with Gek. Gek. Even his name was a mixture between of poison and bittersweet memories. Images ricocheted through her mind, his arms around her waist, sweet words muttered in her ear, his lips on her neck, and then it was the screaming and crying. Pain and perfection all tangled in her mind. She wanted it out. She had to get them out.

She had run out of tears long ago, and hadn’t cried. No, it had been screams as he left, screams as he did exactly what he had vowed never to do. Forever and always, what absolute bullshit.


@daughterofiridonia { moving to text post }

“Embo? What are you doing here?” The Zabrak huntress asked as she tried to sit up. She cringed and bit her lip, sharp pains pushing her down on her back again; she shakily wiped the sweat from her forehead.

From what she could tell, those thugs had broken a few ribs, pulled her shoulder out of the socket, and managed to stab her pretty deeply in the arms and chest. What they wanted from her, she couldn’t tell. All she knew was that Embo was suddenly beside her.

“What are you doing here?” She repeated, hoping that talking to him would distract her from the pain.

   ~> The moment that Embo laid eyes upon the wounded female,
   he instantly ran to her side, dropping down to his knees beside
   her. He moved a hand g e n t l y behind her head, glowing yellow
   optics scanning her body. He placed his other hand over one
   of her stab wounds, applying pressure to it.

He tried to remain c a l m, thinking of ways to deal with this. She had
helped him many times when he was hurt, it looked as though it was
his turn to help her. How to move her without hurting her though was
the p r o b l e m. She needed to get to a medical bay or something,

   ~> “Je ecou mabarage… vou nebage magey..” I heard commotion…
   it’s so good to see you’re still alive.

   ~> He had to move her, now, before she bled out, or the thugs
   decided to return - even though Embo could easily handle them.
   He h e s i t a n t l y picked her up, trying hard to not hurt her any
before he began to walk as quickly as he could.

   ~> “Me sevan grem tay pres she van..”  My ship is nearby… there’s
   a medical bay on it, I can patch you up the best I know how…

Continued from x

    Emma’s lips trembled at the sight before her, her hands instinctively cupped his face while she couldn’t help but to allow the tears quickly slide down her cheeks, “—-S-Sam….?” She questioned in a quietest tone while her voice couldn’t help but crack. 

    Emma stroked her thumb against one of his cheeks as the water filled her eyes, having to blink the tears back in order to see her fiancé. She shook her head as she placed her two fingers against his neck until she confirmed there was no pulse. Her breathing became heavy as she continued to shake her head while she brought him close against her. He already started to feel cold but she didn’t care as she cried into the crook of his neck.

    “Please, Sam, you … you can’t do this to me … to us … the twinsour family. Why couldn’t you have just let another hunter take care of this stupid job?” Emma asked while the worst of all of this, was that she knew she wouldn’t get a response back from him.

    Emma sniffled as she closed her eyes tightly, she didn’t want to do this without him. That was never going to be an option. There was only one way she could get him back to the way he was moments before he left and that was to make a deal with a demon. The last thing she was going to do was to get her family involved, most of all their children. She had to think through of every loophole they might see and she will to protect her family at all costs.

    Emma faced him once more as she wiped away some tears that couldn’t stop. She didn’t even have the energy to try, the only man she’s ever truly loved is gone - of course she couldn’t control her emotions. She closed the small gap between them and placed her warm lips against his cold ones, almost expecting him to return it, while still knowing the hard truth about that. A shaky sigh left her as she let him lay upon the floor, placed a few towels down to make him comfortable for when he would come back.

    “–I’m sorry, Sam.” Emma whispered against his lips, she already started a plan about this. She wasn’t going to tell him about the deal until after she had spoken to Lorne about it. She needed to know what he could see for their future - if there would be one. She didn’t want to loose anytime with her family and she wanted to watch them grow up and grow old with her soon to be husband. Lorne had to tell her there was some way she could get out of this deal she was about to make. He could always give them something.

    Emma locked their motel room on her way out after cleaning herself up a bit, as well as Sam, before she left. The entire time she cried - so much that her eyelids began to grow heavy. Despite all of that, she still found some kind of sense to drive until she found a crossroad and called upon a demon in her mind when she closed her eyes. One of the most rarest times she actually hoped for a demon to show up.

@decadc ;; continued

Casanova couldn’t help but stare at Clem with heart eyes? yes, it was with heart eyes, he couldn’t help it, especially when she looks at him that way too. he looked at her as he adds. “looking at you like what? I can’t help it… I’m sorry if it’s bothering you.”

   “It’s not bothering me.” The words were hushed softly as she looked over at Cas, biting down on her lower lip as she shifted over to him slightly. “Like … you love me or something like that– you can’t do that.” Her head shook, a chuckle passing through her lips; how stupid she must sound.


I have become reckless,

wearing red lipstick, shorter hemlines, pulling on the edges

of my thigh high socks whenever you’re around.

I had told myself that I,

was a woman.

And we women, 

we don’t offer our bodies or minds or hearts on silver platters at the buffet table.

We don’t write menus of poetry, listing our lips as dessert,

our hands as the main course.

Come take it.

No, I…am a girl.

Desperate in her need for affection,

opening her chest cavity to reveal the little ghost underneath the bone.

When the night is over, and the lie told,

I sit down on the bed to untangle my hair.

I tell myself I am mine.

I know it’s not true.