┌     @starfalled​    ┐    |    B R A M    &    H E N R Y 

❛     CAN  I  BUY  YOU  A  DRINK  ?       or  do  you  think  your  guard  there  would  kill  me  ?     ❜             he  sucks  in  a  breath  through  his  teeth  in  consideration  before  he  breaks  into  a  smile.         ❛    worth  it  ,  i  think.   ❜       soft  laughter  bubbles  up  from  bram’s  lips  as  he  waves  down  the  bartender  to  deliver  the  prince  a  new  glass  of  whatever  he  was  drinking  prior.          

HE  KNOWS  WHO  HENRY  IS  ------  of  course  he  does.       bram  keeps  up  with  gay  news.           he  knows  about  his  being  outed  &  the  lgbtq+  centers  he’d  opened  up  here  in  new  york.           he  also  knows  about  the  rather  messy  breakup  the  press  had  a  field  day  with.          to  find  the  prince  at  bram’s  favorite  gay  bar  must  mean  he’s  doing  better  ,  right  ?         it’s  definitely  the  first  place  he  went  when  he  finally  got  over  simon.            ❛    --------------  you  know  ,  i  got  outed  in  high  school  because  of  a  secret  love  affair  with  a  guy  via  email’s.          that  happening  once  is  just  a  shitty  thing  ,  but  twice  ?   ❜          he  clicks  his  tongue  &  chuckles  softly.          ❛    mine  wasn’t  uh  ...   press  worthy  ,  but  it  did  go  down  in  my  high  school’s  history.    if  that  counts  for  shit  three  years  later  ...    ❜         his  smile  is  gentle  &  his  cheeks  are  a  rosy  shade  from  the  flush  of  alcohol.           ❛    oh  -----  i’m  abraham.    BRAM  FOR  SHORT.        feel  free  to  tell  me  to  leave  ;  i  just  thought  you  might  find  it  funny  to  know  emails  are  definitely  not  safe  for  the  gays.     ❜

@starfalled​  ::    “your ass is your best quality.”     ||      HENRY  &  ALEX

A  SNORT  ESCAPES  THE  FIRST  SON  as  he  gets  the  text  response  ,  amusement  clear  on  tanned  features.           fingers  are  rapidly  tapping  out  a  response  before  he’s  even  settled  his  light  laughter.  

          ‘ i wasn’t trying to trick you, ‘ she insisted, silence falling over the room now that the duke and his sister had taken their leave. she was pulling her coat around her shoulders, refusing to sit, and yet making direct eye contact with the courtesan that had mistaken her intentions. ‘ i thought you knew who i was. ‘ a writer. she was just a writer. certainly she didn’t imagine he could guess who she actually was. people in her own country couldn’t even recognize her unless they were in the capitol. no, she’d thought he had known she was the new writer seeking approval for the job. 

send 🛑 to clean blood off of my muse after they protected yours.      @starfalled​​    +    jaime 

          GOLDEN SUN CHASES MAKESHIFT RUNAWAYS         .       whispers mock forgiveness in the promise of shade,  only for eyes to find the trees burned by man’s wrath.  air stinks of rot.  feels heavy by the promise of death.  salt laces lips forevermore even when back of her own hand has made many valiant attempts of getting rid of the aftertaste.  stench of copper follows them both,  seeps into dress and armour alike.  colours what was once white crimson and black. 

there are many false gods in this world still.  and she pins the name death to both their chests and proclaims them both so. 

❝ see - ❞  words spoken through gritted teeth miss their mark.  fall flat among the corpses.  six to one not great odds even for a cat who has never quite learned how to retract her claws.   split lip hurts,  yes,  but at least it’s far better than going down into dirt.  sword rests at her feet,  bruised knuckles and blood stained hands no longer able to hold it up.   kingslayer has more pride than to stab an unarmed,  wounded,  woman through the heart anyway.   or at least,  she hopes.  ❝ you,  the great knight,  need me to keep you safe. ❞ 

she mocks him.  even when his hands are on her skin,  washing away the stain of one of many sins she can’t be bothered to pray for forgiveness for anymore.  if the world shall depict them as monsters,  fucking let it.  let it know that she shall come for its throat regardless. 

❝ don’t tell me that you’ve grown soft,  ser jaime.  ❞    fox slips away from his hands,  uses new-found distance to bow for him       ;        takes another step in the dance the both of them have been entwined in for a while now. sheds fabric of dress off her shoulder,  sheds image of womanhood as easily as snake sheds skin.  

dirt,  dried blood,  guts and rot.  it’s never bothered her.  a cloak made out of decay and war for her to hide in.  strangle the innocent girl,  rise reborn with a dagger for a tongue.  but torn fabric stained with evidence of taken lives suddenly feels  wrong.   she steps out of it all too easily,  makes a show out of bending down       /         allows fingertips to brush against leather straps keeping dagger against her thigh in place      (     look.   look at it,  lion man.   )     before picking up discarded clothing. 

The return journey to Thedas may not have been lonely, with several companions to watch Jacqueline’s back and give her a path whereas she had none, but now that she’d dropped off the last of them to where they wished to restart their lives...she had no idea where to go.

Thedas was at war, but that wasn’t new. Templars and Mages tearing each other apart again-- or rather, Mages fleeing for freedom’s sake and Templars hunting them down like sport.

Jacqueline didn’t fancy being hunted down.

That was why when she saw the first signs of another person in this cave system -- the tracks of heavy boots that would only be worn by someone in armour -- she was ready to kill them before they kill her. So she shrouded herself in her dark cloak, hoping to make herself less detectible in the darkness, and continued tracking the other individual until measly lantern light led her to their exact location.

Short hair, broad shoulders. Perhaps a man, likely human. He had red hair, the hefty armour she expected, and his back to her. As a result, she couldn’t quite see any symbolism on his attire, and whether he was a templar or a bandit or a bounty hunter was lost on her. Winter magic wasn’t her strongest suit, but it felt wrong to suddenly kill an unaware stranger, no matter whether she worried for her safety or not. So, before giving herself away, she gathered her strength and launched the hardest ice she could muster to trap the stranger.

Shipping Interest Check!

@waywardfreckled​​​ sent 💕 for the following:

(hope you brought time lol)

Have we discussed shipping before?: yes (i mean i know we both ship it and we did have shippy threads int he past so i’d count that as a yes) || no

My interest level overall: I’ve wanted this for so long (that is an understatement tbh but there is no “i would sell my unborn and unplanned child for this” in the meme) || can’t wait || I think it’ll be fun || kinda feeling it || maybe with a lot of plotting || I need to think about it || not interested, sorry

How we should do this: jump right in || slow burn (plot wise cause duh they both need time) || pre-established || build up to it in a thread || anything goes (literally anything you could ever possibly want, i am yours ahem (not like that, heli, i swear))