#jcined

[ofrevas-a]

@jcined

“NO.”

They’re exhausted already, and sick of the overblown concern alternating with rage, or disappointment --- as if this had anything to do with anyone else! Let Alia express her grief over Alistair; they’d let her. That was justified.

Better to head her off before she can start. “Just go. I haven’t hurt you with this.”

[bornpariah-a]

@

Let’s Spread Some Love ♥

@ahvir​ / @jcined​ / @fuckthedivine​ / @hiraecies​ / @lastbled

let’s start this off strong, shall we? where oh where oh where do i even start. hmm. let’s go with this: i love you. absolutely and endlessly and all consumingly. you are my best friend in the ENTIRE WORLD and i count myself lucky every day. how could i, of all people, have ended up with the greatest person in the world for their best friend? it blows my mind. you are by far one of the sweetest, kindest, most genuine people i have ever met, and since you’ve come into my life my world has been WAY BRIGHTER than before. i don’t know where i’d be without you. without you and your amazing blogs and your amazing writing and your fantastic characters ( ocs and canons ) and just. you. you’re so good. so wonderful. so IMPOSSIBLE and yet here you are!!! and you are just a woman, but it’s like you have??? stars inside of you. making you brighter and improbable and yet.

i love you so much.

[couldntbcloved]

♡ OOH

Send one for party banter || accepting

@jcined

♡ — my muse and yours

A: So.. What are you exactly?N: I’m… Me.A: That’s not- You’re supposed to be a spirit, aren’t you?N: Am I supposed to be something else..?A: You– *sigh* Nevermind.N: I won’t.

A: Why are you looking at me like that?N: Like what?A: Like.. I dunno, like that. Like you’re secretly judging me.N: Oh. Because I am.A: Ah. That makes sense. 

A: You don’t really think those people deserved forgiveness, do you?N: No. Not forgiveness.A: Isn’t that your thing, though? Spirit of Forgiveness and whatnot?N: Mercy. Spirit of Mercy.A: Is there a difference?N: More than you know.

[oathes]

@jcined​ liked!

         “You’re... sure about this?” He eyeballs Zevran from halfway across the camp, trying to stay as hush-hush as possible. Things needn’t be more awkward than they already are and, well, Alistair knows that he’d never hear the end of it if he caught wind of it. “About him, I mean,” he says, as though the man is poison itself -- and he might as well be, Alistair guesses. There’s something mighty naive about taking a man like Zevran at face value, he thinks. He’s a liar and a thief and an assassin and, well, he doesn’t trust him. Not that it changes anything. Just have to sleep with an extra eye open.

        “He’d as soon stab us in the back as help us. I don’t get it.” 

[valorcorrupt]

“ i needed to make it stop. ”

    “I understand.”

In the silence that comes nextshe falters. Kneels upon the ground there before her with trembling hands andquaking heart and SHAKES, because there’s little else she knows. Little elsethat she can do.

Her breath is short, her headdizzy. She can’t look at them, the bodies – her eyes hit the edges of the poolsof blood that seep from the battered, broken corpses and retreat again. To theballed fists of the woman there before her, to the broken skin, the blood, thebruises… the TEARS that drip slow down there from her cheeks and mix unevenlyon the ground there with the blood.

    “I—I don’t think—” she wants to say thatAlia is not a MONSTER. That she’s not afraid.

But her guts twist and chokethe air off. The sick creeps into her throat and she chokes and gags and shedoesn’t know how to say that it is INARA who has failed the Wardens here today.Not Alia, not her temper, not her POWER, not her FEARSOME STRENGTH.

Alia probably makes a betterWarden than she ever will. Sick. Sick! Over bastards who took advantage of theBlight and tore a family to pieces for SPORT. And Inara is sick FOR them. Theirdeath, their mangled bodies.

She takes a breath around theheavy beating of her heart, tries to swallow down the… everything.

She only tastes the bile.

    “You did good,” she says, and tries withher WHOLE HEART to believe it. “You did good. I should have helped. I’m sorry.”

[outlivings]

reddish brown and champagne!

                copic headcanons | accepting | @jcined

im going to assume this is for domnall lmao

how likely is your muse to step up and take the role of a leader? are they willing to take the challenge, or are they more apt to being a follower?

dom doesnt like being a follower at all. he likes following his own rules and morals without having to live up to someone else’s standards, so leadership fits him better than he might initially think. he’ll step up to fill the role out of necessity before any actual desire to lead.

does your muse drink (alcohol)? are they a heavy drinker, if so?

he drinks in small doses semi-regularly. hardly ever is his goal to get drunk because keeping his wits is important to him, so it’s for the social factor more than anything. if something is really bothering him though he might go out of his way to get hammered for that night as a way to get over it

[valorcorrupt]

slurred words for alia cos im too lazy 2 switch tabs

send “slurred words” to hear my muse describe yours while drunk || selectively accepting@jcined

     “She’s bedding Zevran,” Alistair says for the tenth time, like he’s wounded, and Inara can’t hold back the laughter this time.

     “Has been for a while,” she says, taking another healthy drink from the mug placed before her as her shoulders shake with gentle laughter. The shock there on her lover’s face -- the way he seems to struggle with the information though Inara knows he’s more than smart -- it makes her laugh all the harder, ‘til she snorts and chokes on the bitter liquid in her throat. 

     “What’s it matter to you?” she asks, the grin splitting her lips proving painful in its length. 

     “She’s our friend!” Alistair protests. “Isn’t it-- I mean, he tried to kill us! Isn’t she your friend? Don’t you want to keep her safe?”

Inara chortles. It’s hardly a flattering sound. “I think the only sort of hurting Zevran wants to do to her is the kind that makes you blush.”

Speak of the devil, the blush spreads across his cheeks like wildfire through a rain-thirsty forest, burns red all over and makes his gaze retreat from hers and his voice run away to hide somewhere inside his prudishness. 

     “Alia is smart,” Inara tells him then, shaking her head as his face continues to express the protests that now escape his flustered tongue. “She’s strong and smart. Zevran has his hands more full with her than he’d ever manage to handle on top of a blade. Though I hear some people are into that.” Inara’s smile both sly and sultry. Alistair can’t even look at her anymore.

She reaches over, takes his hand. “Alia will outlive us both,” she tells him then, and he can’t find the strength or skill to deny it. “Don’t you worry. She’ll bury us both.” Likely with Zevran at her side.

Hopefully not too soon.

[valorcorrupt]

❛ you’re bleeding. let me have a look. ❜

Things have been SOFTER lately. 

Alia. Alia has been softer lately. Softer in the way she looks at her, in the way she speaks to her, in the way-- her touch is light. SOFT. 

And it makes Inara flinch away harder than any swipe anyone’s ever taken at her. 

     “It’s nothing,” she says, fire spitting off her tongue and surprising her. The heat floods her cheeks and throat, and she feels-- 

--like running away. 

     “I’m fine. I’m not fragile, you know.” Like she has to be reminded. Inara NEEDS TO REMIND HER. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Stop fussing.”