@oridraconis asked: 🎁 may i also have a random shuffle one (while i’m writing on a starter for you.)
“I understand furious town folk,” she said, “…normally. But what did you do to get yourself into such a pickle, friend?” Before she leant an arm on the top of the stocks, she brushed off the bits of rotten food that the villagers had thrown at the unfortunate soul stuck in the pillory. “At least no one’s pulled your pants ‘round your ankles, I guess. Silver linings?”
@ofmalice asked: 44 !
“Older women, they understand. I’ve been around some and I have discovered that older women just know how to please me.” She was shameless, but honest, and placed her hands behind her head as she reclined in her seat. As soon as they met eyes, she grinned wide, proud, and winked.
@sunbentsky asked: 🎁 for any muse of mine you want 🧡
“I can’t fix this on my own, and I don’t want to do it alone.” She kneaded the spot between her brows with a knuckle, trying to ease tension out of it. “What a mess I’ve made of things here.” If she’d known that the man she had saved from bandits was a priest of the Eternal Fire, she probably would have left him in that cage to rot. Instead, she had saved his life, and in return he had gone on to terrorise an entire village of innocents. It was hard not to blame herself for it. She felt that her actions had indirectly caused all of this. Zelda looked guiltily over at Letho. “Will you help me save those women from the pyres?”
@monstriiss asked: 🎁
“Every map I follow leads to the unknown,” she said, her shoulders hunched in frustration as she crumpled the old contract in her hands. She threw it, with force, across the room, then grabbed her swords, still dirty with blood, and threw them too. They clashed with the wall a lot harder than the piece of paper, falling to the ground with a deafening crash. She grappled the air with her hands, like she was choking it, and let out an irritated groan, then buried her face in her palms to hide. “Gods, I wish there was a way to always know what the right choices to make were. It would make my life a lot easier.”
“No, that’s not my handwriting. It’s very clear, to me, that what’s happened here is a small child, of no more than three or four, came into my room, found my personal journal, and wrote in it. The only thing I did were the drawings in the corners, so,” she paused awkwardly, “if you could hand it over…”
has zelda played gwent? is she a secret card collector?? >:)
Zelda doesn’t really have the patience to play Gwent. But, she does collect the “cool, shiny ones” (cards) because she likes the way they look. She’s played the game before but she still doesn’t understand it, mainly because she never listens properly to whoever it is trying to explain it to her.
the fact that one of my top genres on spotify wrapped was “medieval” dfghkh
@echoedhope gets a starter, hi
Omega was a place where somebody like her had a need to keep her ear to the ground. The station was a bustling hive made up of criminals, terrorists and malcontents, each with their own ambitions, which they kept close to their chests, all muddled in with ever-changing loyalties, gang wars, and betrayal. She wasn’t there because it was the safest place for someone like her to hideout, but because it was easier for her to go unnoticed amid the rest of the lowlife which docked, day in and day out, at the station’s bay. It was a port for pirates, and she was an outlaw with a hefty bounty on her head.
It hadn’t taken long for her to find out that the station was being visited by the Commander Shepard. The rumours were that she was working for Cerberus, which beggared belief. Zelda had never met Commander Shepard, but from all the stories she had heard during her time with the Alliance, it made no sense that somebody like the commander, first Human Spectre, should join up with a known terrorist organisation such as Cerberus. And if there was one thing she knew from experience, it was to question everything. But regardless of what was true or false, what she did know was that the commander had been spurned by the Alliance too, and that was good enough for Zelda.
Another rumour was that the commander was looking to put together a team, and that was what Zelda wanted to talk to her about.
When she wasn’t holed up in her small one-room (she had rented it from a Batarian who had not hidden his contempt for humans), she wore her helmet. That way, on the off chance that somebody knew her face, they wouldn’t be able to recognise her. She had tracked the commander down at Afterlife, and had waited for an opportune time to approach before stepping out in front of her to stop her in her tracks. In hindsight, the abruptness with which she made her entrance was probably not the best way to start things off.
“Commander Shepard?” She started, arms out wide. Her voice rang out through her helmet’s transmitter, tin-like. “It’s your lucky day!”
zelda “service top” niles
@nostqlgia asked: “don’t go-” it comes out with a soft pleading lit, garnished with large bright eyes as fingers lamely tug at the shirt that had just been fixed into place. “wouldn’t you rather spend the day with me?” it can’t quite be described as a whine– because bree does not whine– but it is as close to one as you’ll ever get from her.
Zelda grinned keenly at the fingers pulling at her shirt. Bree knew what she was doing. She had those big, blue eyes looking up at her from the bed, and that soft, pleading voice which drove her crazy. It took very little for Zelda to unravel in the older woman’s hands when Bree was looking at her like that. She could still taste her on her tongue, and that was enough to leave her pliant to Bree’s whims and desires. More so when the memory of fucking her was still so fresh in her mind; if she had it her way, they would never leave the bedroom, and Zelda would be inside Bree as often as she drew breath.
Slowly she was drawn to the edge of the mattress again and she gave a daring quirk of an eyebrow, wrapping her fingers calmly around Bree’s wrist. Zelda had a look about her which said she was going to cause trouble if Bree wasn’t careful. She dropped her stare to the thin white sheet barely concealing Bree’s body, lips puckered, then took her free hand and started toying with the sheet, like she was idly contemplating ripping it off.
“What are you going to do for me to get me to stay?” She asked, a hint of mischief in her tone. Already her mind was whirring, and she still had Bree’s wrist in her hold. Zelda guided Bree’s fingers to the waistband of her sweatpants, but she was acting as if she hadn’t realised, and when she met the older woman’s eyes she flashed an innocent smile. “You missing me that badly already?” She started dragging the bedsheet away. “Which parts of you are missing me the most? You let me know and I’ll see what I can do.”
and just with that yennefer of vengerberg was brought back to her consciousness, his focus snapping back to the flapping of wings outside, amidst it her own kestrel assessing their makeshift camp from his throne. her head still spinning and her vision blurry, the sorceress pierced the witcher with a fleeting look before she too groaned : groaned and writhed when she should have kept still. [ following instructions had never been her forte. billowing them, another matter entirely. ]
her stomach churned. ❛ i’ve handled worse. ❜ spoken to herself, spoken to zelda, spoken to the nightly breeze whirring through her sea of curls. yennefer of vengerberg had handled wounds worse than the gash across her shoulder, had slept in quarters muddier than the patch of hay zelda had laid her across.
a common barn in the depth of velen whose decaying planks groaned under its weight. hardly a matter to complain about. but it had been the witcher’s idea.
❛ is this how you’ve imagined a night with me, zelda niles? ❜ the implication of her words did not escape her notice. it was intentional as it was taunting. ❛ sleeping under the moonlight, in a barn reeking of piss and pig and blood. ❜ if her magic had returned at full strength, she would have healed the wound quickly, but with her slowly regenerating energy, she had to rely on other means.
and other people.
❛ come closer. i’m cold. ❜
The barn looked like it had been abandoned for a while now, its frame barely held upright by the leaning scantling, its timber beams black with mold. There was a gaping hole in a section of the barn’s roof, leaving the joists exposed to the elements, waterlogged by rain and beginning to badly rot. But they were safe at the back of the barn, tucked into an old, empty stall filled with a patch of dry hay. Whilst the barn was not in use full time, it seemed as though someone else had had the same idea as them, not too long ago, to use it as a place for shelter. Whoever they were, they were long gone now. Zelda took off her cloak and draped it over Yennefer, hoping that it would be enough, for tonight at least, to keep the injured sorceress warm. She had covered the wound with garlic. It would be enough to stave off any minor infection. All Yennefer needed to do was rest, and regain her strength.
Zelda gave a weary laugh at the remark, a gentle shade of pink dusting the tops of her cheeks. Most would have been intimidated by the frank way in which Yennefer spoke, but the witcher was amused by it. She would be lying if she said she had never imagined sleeping with the sorceress before. She was a very attractive woman. Of course Zelda had thought about what it would be like to kiss Yennefer, or how she looked when she was naked. She had dreamt about how her breasts would feel in her hands, and what it would be like to have the sorceress grinding under her. But they were only fleeting thoughts of desire, or in times where she felt a certain kind of heat pooling inside her, spurred on by too much drink or too much adrenaline. A natural urge which was sometimes so strong that it overwhelmed her, and she would have to step outside to cool off. This whole time she thought it had gone unnoticed, that she had a bedrock equanimity that was hard to shake, but clearly the sorceress was even more perceptible than Zelda had first thought.
Zelda moved her warm hand against the side of Yennefer’s face, cradling her chilled cheek in a sturdy palm. The same hands with which she so often worked with tenderness and skill.
“I imagined it a little differently,” she said, admitting to having born some thoughts for the sorceress. Zelda wore a concentrated expression as she watched Yennefer, then she joined her beneath the makeshift blanket.
“Here,” she said, pressing close. “Put your head on my shoulder.” She opened an arm up to allow access to the rest of her body.
Yennefer’s independence was one of the things which had attracted the witcher to her. But now, with the sorceress in her arms, she found that she was just as urged by the moments of vulnerability as she was by all else. Zelda realised that she liked that Yennefer needed her, even if it was just for tonight. Not that she would ever admit to it, in case Yennefer was offended by it. But that didn’t matter, Yennefer didn’t need to know. Zelda was content to be useful.
“You know, you could just call me by my first name.” Yennefer always seemed to use her full name, she noticed. “We’re close enough, now, for that, aren’t we? Do you enjoy the sound of my full name on your lips, Yennefer of Vengerberg?”
The panic in this town is oppressive; it hangs over everything with a weight that stifles the day to day activities of its inhabitants, with a dark energy that grips one from their insides. Laera, in the few days she’s spent trapped in this dismal little hell, has seen no such cause for the panic. Undeniably, something is off – yet she believes it only to be caused by the rampant fear that holds the town – but the whispers of monsters in the woods is always on the lips of those who dare to speak their suspicions.
Laera twists her tankard round on the table, a little too comfortable in her seat, as she has her boots propped up on the table. On occasion, she hears the usual whisper of monsters, but it never evolves further than that of a mere mention. The occurrence of such a oddity, as Laera should have known, would attract people – for good or bad – and she’s surprised to find a face amongst this mess she hasn’t thought about ( or seen ) in decades.
❝ You know, if they just left they wouldn’t ‘ave to deal with this shite, ❞ They’re catching up: She, and as she’s come to learn – Zelda – the witcher woman that nearly pummeled a priest in the streets of Novigrad. ❝ It’s rubbish. Nothing keeping them ‘ere other than their own fears – ❞ And her face twists into a frown, realising if that were the case, she wouldn’t still be there either. ❝ Some bloke supposedly went missing last night too… Nobody wants to say much about it, though. ❞
@suresaint / plotted!
“Easy for us to say. We go wherever we want, whenever we feel like it. Most people are confined to one place for all their lives, whether they like it or not,” she said, somewhat sympathetic to the fates of the common folk.
A witcher, such as herself, and a self-made explorer such as Laera, made a living travelling from place to place. They had no ties, no legal obligations to remain in one place; no Lords to which they owed their livelihood. In villages such as the one they were in, people were bound to the land on which they were born. As Serfs, they had no place beyond the boundaries of the estate. In fact she wondered if many of them even knew that there was more to life than ploughing the same fields and harvesting the same crops day after day, until they were too old to go on. They had no choice.
The entire village appeared to be in the tavern tonight, crowded as a beehive, climbing over one another to reach friends and family and cramming themselves onto benches; pressed like grapes. All of the air had been sucked out of the tavern, muggy with the sour odour of bodies, bad breath, and spilt alcohol. She felt sticky from the heat and all she could do to try and alleviate the discomfort was to down cup after cup of ale, and to loosen her leathers.
“How many people have gone missing now?” She asked, frowning. She didn’t mean to come off as sullen, but she was tired, and sweaty, and hungry, and if she went too long without a proper meal she acted a little like a child.
Besides, the only reason she was there in the first place was because of the rumours she had heard about monsters holding the village captive. Sure, most of the villagers appeared on edge over something, but people were often on edge around her, so if that was the only proof of something awry then she wasn’t convinced. So far she had seen no signs of any sentry monsters, or a curse, or whatever it was that was supposedly happening in the village.
And if there really was an issue, then the villagers would have to scrounge up enough coin to offer her a contract good enough that she would agree to help. Not that she asked for much coin, just enough to get by. She recognised that most laymen had very little to offer in the way of real, hard coin, themselves making only a pittance for the hours and hours of back breaking work they submitted themselves to each day, so she always tried to be forgiving, but as it stood there wasn’t even a contract for her to read, let alone accept.
“I came by the woods this morning, on my way into the village, and saw no monsters,” she said, acting nonplussed, “not even outlaws, who benefit from thick woodlands. If people are in need of help, why aren’t they talking? Don’t they want help?” Why wouldn’t they seek it, or talk about the missing man? What were they so scared of? Or, who? Who didn’t want them talking?
She grimaced. “Have you seen anything?”
me hopping between the witcher and mass effect
@afraidofchange is being subjected to a whatsit
“I’ve been taking good care of her.” She nodded to the sleek, black aircraft in its bay and approached with an almost nervous disposition. Of course its creator would recognise it, despite the few adjustments its pilot had made to its exterior over the past several months. The most obvious change was that the fighter jet was no longer flying the Alliance colours, or its insignia; she’d had to replace a couple body parts, too, as a result of some run-ins with bounty hunters, but all in all the girl was healthy, and powerful, and beautiful.
Zelda stood sheepishly beside the engineer, hands clasped behind her back. Anne agreeing to meet her was a big risk. If anyone found out the she had met up with an Alliance fugitive, that would be the end of Anne’s career. Anne was one of the good ones. Zelda would do everything she could to make sure nobody found out about their gathering.
“Thank you for meeting me,” she said quietly. “I know you didn’t have to, but you did, and I can’t tell you what that means to me.”
She was stalling and she knew it, but she couldn’t help it. She was tense, shaky, she hadn’t slept properly in days; she thought every person who looked her way must be an Alliance operative under cover. She had lost a lot of weight whilst on the run, too. The clothes on her back were now too big for her, and her cheeks had sunken in on themselves. She was like a tall, paranoid waif.
“You don’t owe me anything, I know that, but I need…” help –
Courage failed her, not for fear of Anne’s reaction but because she hated the idea of getting anybody else involved with her problems, especially someone as kind as Anne. But what other choice did she have? She had hidden the evidence she needed to clear her name on the station before her arrest. It hadn’t been found yet, but it was only a matter of time, and if it fell into the wrong hands then she would be on the run for the rest of her life.
Still, she couldn’t bring herself to say it, so she turned her harrowed eyes to her feet and remained silent. Oh, she thought. You idiot.
zelda loves fucking women in the forest it just feels more feral don’t ask
Her gaze remains fixed on the blonde human in front of her. It’s hilarious, how even the cockiest people turn to mush in front of her. Of course, Bray’s gun trained on them is usually the small push some people need.
She might be dangerous, of course ( no one ever should only trust appearances ) but she needs her help. From quite the enemy, so it seems. Her eyebrows rise in slight surprise, her tattoo rising with them. It’s not everyday you find someone asking to run away from the System Alliance. Her lips quirk up slightly.
“ I can. “ Her words are stern, and with a jerk of her chin in Bray’s direction he’s off to do Goddess knows what. She likes to have her privacy, when discussing business transaction. “ The question is, what do I get out of it? “
“ You see —– I don’t feel very charitable lately. And you’re asking me to scrub clean an Alliance ship. I don’t fancy making those type of enemies, not today at least. “ She leans back, slings one leg over the other carefully. She moves her arms against the leather couch. “ I want a warranty. What are you running from? “ Or maybe, who.
Zelda had already known that it wouldn’t be as easy as asking Omega’s leader, of all people, to do something for a stranger for free. It was a huge risk, given that there was a bounty on her head. If Aria fancied it, she could tip the Alliance off on Zelda’s whereabouts and claim the bounty for herself. It would be an easy reward, with certainly no risks attached to it. Someone like Aria needed to see the benefits of helping someone like her, and Zelda knew that, which was why she had come with a little something up her sleeve.
She was on edge, even after the trigger happy guard was sent away and they were left alone. She waited until she could no longer see him out of the corner of her eye, then slid to the edge of her seat and leant in. “I figured I shouldn’t come here empty handed,” she said, watching the other woman closely before she spoke next. “Anvea Dardas.” A Turian name.
Any other time she might have come off as overconfident, but she had been on the run from the Alliance, and from relentless bounty hunters, for the past seven months now, and she was beginning to slow. She was tired, anxious, and endlessly vigilant. She hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours a night, in case someone happened to find her. She knew she constantly needed to be a few steps ahead to evade capture, or worse. Keeping the stolen jet hidden was the hardest part. She could disable the tracking device, but only temporarily before the damned thing fixed itself. Smart, but annoying.
“I hear you’re looking for him,” she said. “But he’s hiding in Citadel space. Correct?” Zelda was nothing if not resourceful when she wanted to be. It was what had gotten her so far in the Alliance in the first place. Clearly, she had done her homework. “You can’t flush him out, no matter what you try. But I have an Alliance jet, with Alliance tech, and Alliance systems. If you help me, I can help you set a trap. But only if you scrub it first. It won’t work if it’s not clean.” She kept quiet on who, exactly, she was running from, hoping that name dropping the elusive Turian would be enough to distract Aria for now.
↬ THE INFERNAL DEVICES SERIES ( 2010 - 2013 ) by cassandra clare.
sentences taken from or inspired by the dialogue from the series, including the books clockwork angel, clockwork prince, & clockwork princess.
+ feel free to change pronouns / roles !
- ‘ one must always be careful of books, and what is inside them. ’
- ‘ we live and breathe words. ’
- ‘ if there is no one in the world who cares for you, do you really exist at all ? ’
- ‘ they say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of grief is finite. ’
- ‘ requited love is nice, but it doesn’t make much of a ballad. ’
- ‘ i am not the one of us who has no heart. ’
- ‘ i haven’t broken his heart at all. ’
- ‘ you don’t know that there’s only oblivion after death. ’
- ‘ if you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. ’
- ‘ i thought we could at least talk about books. ’
- ‘ there’s plenty of sense in nonsense sometimes, if you wish to look for it. ’
- ‘ pointless, needless suffering and pain ? i don’t suppose it would help if i told you that was the way life is. ’
- ‘ you hurt everyone. everyone whose life you touch. ’
- ‘ it’s all heartbreak, death, and unrequited love. ’
- ‘ such harsh truths so early in the morning cannot be good for the digestion. ’
- ‘ hell is cold. ’
- ‘ i seek scandal and low companionship. ’
- ‘ perhaps we do need a chaperon. ’
- ‘ death could be imminent. ’
- ‘ the handsome fellow that’s trying to rescue you from a hideous fate is never wrong. ’
- ‘ i have lost everything. ’
- ‘ who said we were owed happiness ? what about what we owe others ? ’
- ‘ he’s going to kill someone. or get us killed. ’
- ‘ clearly the word excellent means something else on this side of the atlantic. ’
- ‘ you may hide here with me, if you wish. ’
- ‘ with god on your side, what does luck matter ? ’
- ‘ are you highly intoxicated at the moment ? ’
- ‘ you wish to marry me now ? ’
- ‘ entreat me not to leave thee. ’
- ‘ don’t be ordinary like that. ’
- ‘ is it because i’m better looking than you ? ’
- ‘ dreams can be dangerous things. ’
- ‘ declarations of love amuse me. ’
- ‘ be prepared to swoon at my finery. ’
- ‘ i don’t believe you can threaten people into goodness. ’
- ‘ finally broke down and admitted you’re in love with me, have you ? ’
- ‘ i say this out of pure selfishness. ’
- ‘ is loyalty still a commendable quality if it is misdirected ? ’
- ‘ you must be terribly dull witted. ’
- ‘ you need not be so careful. i will not break. ’
- ‘ there is more to living than not dying. ’
- ‘ men may be stronger, but it is women who endure. ’
- ‘ was there ever a more beautiful sound than your name ? ’
- ‘ we do not have to carry the burden of their choices or sins. ’
- ‘ life is full of risks. death is much simpler. ’
- ‘ you serve a greater cause. your life is not yours to throw away. ’
- ‘ there are so many worse things than death. not to be loved or not to be able to love, that is worse. ’
- ‘ you are human. never think that you are not. ’
- ‘ if you’re determined to follow me into hell, i cannot stop you. ’
- ‘ i’ve always wanted to see hell. doesn’t everyone ? ’
- ‘ come back to me, for i cannot bear to lose all my heart. ’
- ‘ i am catastrophically in love with you. ’
- ‘ i can offer you my heart, though i have no idea how many more beats it shall sustain. ’
- ‘ our souls are knit. we are one person. ’
- ‘ i do not want to sit by while tragedy comes for us. ’
- ‘ i am leaving, but i am living. i will not be gone from you entirely. ’
- ‘ they say that you cannot love two people at once. ’
- ‘ i cannot leave you to face death alone. ’
- ‘ when i breathe, i will think of you, for without you i would have been dead years ago. ’
- ‘ the world is a wheel. when we rise and fall, we do it together. ’
- ‘ you are the first dream of my soul, the only dream i was unable to stop myself from dreaming. ’
- ‘ when i am in the darkness, i want to think of it in the light, with you. ’
- ‘ heroes endure because we need them. not for their own sakes. ’
- ‘ if there is a life after this one, let me meet you in it. ’
- ‘ life is a book, and there are a thousand pages i have not yet read. ’
- ‘ words have the power to change us. ’