#duchissa

ask victoria hour!

She had felt his gaze upon her before she had acknowledged it, before she had ever turned to meet it. At first she wondered what it was about her that caught his eye, whether there was something wrong with her appearance or that she was doing something intriguing. So far as she knew, neither of those things were true. She was terribly well aware of how she presented herself at all times. No, perhaps there was more to this lingering gaze. Perhaps it may have been simple admiration.

Curious to find out, Cecilia turned in his direction and granted him a pleasant smile, brows lightly raised as though inviting him to speak, to step forward. Taking a step forward of her own, her smile remained upon her lips. “That’s quite the stare. Is there a reason for it? Or just admiring the view?”

She draws nearer, just a single step. Dullahan knows she’s found him watching --- knows most of them with a glance. Knows if she can trust anyone by the curl of their fingers and the lines of their mouths. She can tell by the bat of their lashes if someone is lying, and she can tell, without confession or knife or jury, whether blood or poison have ever spilled from someone else’s hands. She must know, doesn’t she. It’s the Game.

Reason? Admire? People teeter around them, masked and chattering. The merchant comes closer but does not bow his head. "Very rarely will men do both,” he gravels, almost glinting, “if it does not end in a bed.”

Maybe it was an indictment. She’s accusing him. No, it was clever. 

@duchissa​ said: “He looks miserable, poor soul.” pride & prejudice accepting!

“it is his first time at such an extravagant affair. josephine and i attempted to prepare him, but it looks like they are going to eat him alive. i suppose if my first time in orlais were as important as this, i would react the same.”

her eyes never stray from the inquisitor, watching those around him carefully as she continues the conversation. 

we’re picking on the short one.

The rogue looks up from a pamphlet that someone had so generously placed into his hands, confusion giving way to... perhaps less confusion. Was it less? Brow unfurrows, just for one dark eyebrow to shoot upward.

i said i would help you. i didn't say i would be nice to you while i'm helping you.

source: forced proximity trope.

despite it all, he snorts, gently knocking his head against the tree with a roll of his eyes. rope tightly bound around his middle presses his back flush against the bark, hands cuffed behind him for good measure. ❝ i guess that’s only fair. i did tell you i want to rip out your spine &, ah ⸻ what was it ？ bathe in your red juices ？hm. certainly more poetic than i normally would be. shitty poetry but poetry nonetheless. ❞

“ Don't let go just yet, please. ”

source: untitled embraces prompts.

puck has no intentions to let go. it’s rare, he thinks, to see cecilia so vulnerable. so willing to let her guard down if only for the briefest moment, letting herself be held by him. or perhaps not so brief, as she clings to him & begs him to stay. 

he’s not used to this. normally, they’re rather catty toward each other, but he doesn’t mind this. not at all.

" your obsession borders on creepy . "

source: stanley parable sentence starters.

is it an obsession . . . ？puck had never thought of it that way. a creepy hobby, certainly, but he's accepted that aspect of it at this point ⸻ more or less. he'd be more concerned about that if he didn't think it helped him sleep at night.

❝ you don't have to watch, you know. ❞ he grabs another skull, analyzing it curiously. it is almost cartoonish how many piles of bones there are in this place. he knows it's a mausoleum, but gods ！

not that he's complaining as he continues to stuff skeletal remains in his pack. what fun he'll have sorting them all before bedtime later. he suppresses a smile at the thought. he's been told that's a bit weird.