#tristese

[valorcorrupt]

🤢

Send me a 🤢 and I'll say terrible things about you.

Fuckin' gross dude.

Emma BULLIED me into going back on my NECESSARY MEDICATION one time and I can't get the bad taste out of my mouth since.

Not only does Emma specialize in beautiful, tantalizing women, she NEVER POSTS THEIR TITS and NEVER LETS INARA KISS any of them. Who can say what their real goal is, humanizing female characters and acknowledging their traumas as separate and distinct from the men in their lives. It's probably not good.

0/10, would not recommend. send nudes

[gommaged]

when   lucien   pestered   gustave   to   appear   at   the   party   he   was   hosting   for   the   holidays   ,   he   knew   he   couldn't   say   no to him , even if he wanted to.   it   wouldn't   be   right   of   him   not   to appear   at   one   of   his   closest   friend's   get   together's   ,   but   if he did go , there   was   a   definite   chance   he   would   see   sciel   there.   nothing   is   wrong   between   them   ━━   in   fact   ,   things   seem   to   be   going   well   .   .   .   maybe   more   than   well   ,   he   hopes.   the   last   time   they   spoke   ,   they   were   sharing   breakfast   in   bed   after   an   amazing   evening   together   ,   but   they   hadn't   spoken   since   that   night   &   gustave   wasn't   going   to   pester   her   if   it   was   only   meant   to   be   a   one   time   thing.   perhaps   she   only   wanted   to   take   out   some   steam   ━━   to   be   loved   for   a   moment   with   someone   she   trusts.   that's   fine   .   .   .   perfectly   fine   even ,   &   they   went   into   it   with   thoughts   that   it   wouldn't   be   anything   serious   if   they   didn't   want   it   to   be.   the   last   thing   gustave   anticipated   was   for   real   feelings   to   erupt   from   one   night   ,   quickly   realizing   once   sciel   fell   asleep   beside   him   that   he   was   falling   for   one   of   his   closest   friends   &   there   was   not   much   he   could   do   to   stop   it.

the   moment   he   sees   sciel   in   the   crowd   ,   he   offers   her   a   friendly   , yet slightly awkward wave.   his   smile   is   shy   as   their   eyes   make   contact   ,   but   suddenly   everything   seems   to   move   fast   &   before   he   knows   it   ,   he's   off   in   some   secluded   guest room   in   lucien's   apartment   ,   sciel   somehow   above   him   as   she   lavishes   him   with   kisses & well placed caresses.   it   all   happens   so   fast   ,   so   much   so   he   isn't   even   sure   who   instigated   it.   still   ,   gustave   can't   exactly   ignore   the   feeling   it   elicits   when   she   takes   control   like   this   ,   eyes   lolling   back   a   bit   as   her   kisses   consume   him   ,   allowing   her   to   devour   as   hands   rest   against   the   small   of   her   back   ,   pressing   down   ever   so   slightly   so   she   can   feel   his   warmth.   when   his   vision   returns   ,   he   notices   something   hanging   from   the   ceiling   above   them.   it   takes   him   a   moment   before   he   realizes   that   it's   a   bit   of   mistletoe   ,   hanging   right   above   the   damn   bed.   it's   so   ridiculous   &   so   utterly   like   lucien   to   hang   this   in   the   fucking   guest   room   of   all   places.   gently   ,   gustave   urges   sciel   to   look   above   &   before   he   can   let   it   sink   in for her   ,   he   lets   out   a   soft   , slightly raspy laugh.   ❝   fucking   lucien   .   .   .   ❞   gustave   shakes   his   head   ,   hands   gently   caressing   over   sciel's   thighs   as   she   sits   above   him   ,   enjoying   the   sight   of   her   before   they   continue   on   with   their   evening.   ❝   not   sure   if   i   should   curse   him   out   or   thank   him   for   this.   ❞   grinning   ,   gustave   sits   up   enough   to   capture   sciel's   lips   in   a   heated kiss   ,   pulling   her   back   down   with   him in bed   ,   allowing   that   bubbling   passion   to   take   control   for   only   this   evening.   ❝   i   think   .   .   .   ❞   he   groans   ,   hands   raising   up   to   begin   removing   her   shirt   ,   ❝   &   i   could   be   wrong   ,   it'll   have   to   be   the   latter.   ❞

˗ˏˋ     ⁱⁿᵗ·     lucien’s   apartment   ﹕   mistletoe   prompt.   🌿🍒   traveling   with @tristese as   sciel.

[obscurd]

“   Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”

"I-My white hair has nothing to do with my trauma!!" That could be debated, but she's running a hand through silvery locks anyway as if that's somehow make the ginger reappear. Didn't Verso mention something about a Gestral stylist?

[simioso]

who are you? are we enemies? @tristese / princess bride ( accepting ! )

Who is he? It's a simple, terrible question: a question he's watched so many of the others answer with more ease than he can gather his poor repainted mind to following. He knows his name, though less by Knowing and more from people telling him what it is; Simon, they had called him, and the name feels familiar and yet also tastes like something old and terribly sad.

He was my friend, the one had said, the one that feels like familiarity and yearning and frustration, the one that feels like something very old and also something that burned bright and so hot it burns himself. It looks as though he was betrayed by someone named Clea, the one painted in pictos had said, her thoughtful and intelligent regard feeling not unlike being inspected under a magnifying glass but not cruel.

Clea ——

And there's this one that comes to him, the one who feels like something warm and empathetic, the warmth of her voice despite the question making him feel like he knows her even though he doesn't. It puts him at ease even though he doesn't quite know why.

The unstable chroma burns within him, not quite as raging as it was in the abyss but it still feels like a lake of fire. He doesn't truly remember fighting them, but there's a sense of shame that burns somewhere deep inside him anyway; he had never wanted to be anyone's enemy, and yet he had been turned into a weapon.

" No. " Words are still hard; anything longer than a few words feels like a fight. They form fleetingly, too quick for him to process, to make form before they're gone. It's getting easier; in time it will get there, but for now it's broken, difficult. He reaches his hand out, out: an offer? That hand is massive, cracked, scarred, rent by cracks of chroma. " We are all —— Expedition. " A burrow of his brows, frustrated, his mouth tightening. " Simon. I am. Simon. "

[etoilesfantome]

“ I was ready to die for you. You weren’t even willing to live for me. ” HEHE :) @tristese / angsty sentence starters ( accepting ! )

It's in the wake of everything: the moment where the world has been ruined with finality, where he had thought he would close his eyes and the gommage would finally be allowed to take him —— but then it didn't, and he was left in the wake of it all.

There's something numb that curls over the edges of the hot and raw shame that scalds through his chest otherwise, and he looks aside with shame. His heart jackhammers in his chest, nerves frayed; he's never thought about what may happen if he'd failed, because with everything he'd considered, there would be no world left to come back to if everything had worked out like he thought it would.

But here they are, and here he is. Putain.

Of course, he never wanted them to suffer, either, and that's the crux of it all; they are caught between these Painters having their family argument while he wears the face of their dead, and he's left caught between them and these people of the Canvas: those he cares about, those he loves, those that are more real than those nebulous and mercurial creators. And even if he left it alone, how many more years of terror and heartbreak and grief would they have? How much could this world take?

He swallows, thick and stiff, and shoulders stiffen and hunch; his arms want to cross, but he doesn't want to seem defensive and so he resists. " I just wanted all this to be over, " he utters, and there's a hollowness to it he doesn't precisely feel in entirety but his emotions have been drained. " It's not about me. It's not about living, it's not about dying, I just —— " His shoulders sag, vaguely. " —— don't want this place to take and take until I'm the only thing left. "

[inkflowdmoved]

i thought i'd never feel this way again … and then you came around. @tristese

and oh, how she despised herself in that moment. sciel had been through so much -- more than most of them, not that it was any sort of competition. but because of that... shouldn't she have relationships that were EASY? shouldn't she want someone who wasn't so impossible to love?

lune could do nothing for a moment but allow her dark eyes to wash over the other's features as if to parse through them, searching for truth and fact. but this was EMOTION -- it didn't need to be something logged in a history book. it could just... be. lips parted slightly, and for the first time in a long time, lune was slightly speechless.

but she ALSO knew that the longer she was quiet, the more that tension would grow. and gods, she couldn't see sciel's face fall again -- not like before. all that time ago, all those little moments of disappointment that could eventually stand as tall as a mountain. guilt sat heavy in the pit of her stomach. if only she had done better, if only she could have pushed through her own issues to... lune stopped thinking. mostly because if she kept allowing her thoughts to spiral, they might never get anywhere. there's just one more beat of silence as her hand moved to almost TIMIDLY rest upon the other's -- slow like she was approaching an animal, light as though she (a master of elements and fire) might get burned.

"i'm sorry." wait. no -- that wasn't... a sigh. "that i... couldn't be what you wanted me to be." teeth bit down on the inside of her cheek. merde. she was trying so hard, but she felt as though she were falling off a cliff.

"i want to be. that person, i mean. the one that you thought i was. i want to be that for you when we're back in lumiere. now that the paintress is gone..." it would be a short trip back to the docks, back to celebrate and grieve and LIVE. but if they could do this... they could do anything. "i won't let you down again, sciel. i promise."

[lechampionne]

i didn't get any sleep last night because i was so worried about you. @tristese

"worried? about little, old me? sciel, i'm FLATTERED." words said with a light tone, a playful glint in her eye that hid the exhaustion that sat behind it. it had been a long night, one full of arguing with the council. she didn't even leave their chambers until it was almost dawn -- varric's doing, trying so hard to smooth things over between all parties. but the milk had been spilled, the decision already made. hawke knew that something bad was about to happen -- to her specifically. but the less sciel knew, the better.

she crawled into the other's bed, careful to kick off her socks and shoes beforehand (she was a wretch, but she wasn't a monster!) before she tiredly began to mouth at the other's collarbone. settling into the mattress but not allowing herself the pleasure of sleep. what was happening beside her was much more important than a little bit of shut eye. "stop your fussing -- it will give you wrinkles."

[flowithers]

gay

things in aquafarm 3 really starting to heat up