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cammys-imagines24 · 7 months

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°•Astarion Drinking Your Blood•°

Oh, Astarion never tires of your taste.

Whether it's his first time drinking from you or the hundredth.

You were his first human after all.

But even if he hadn't of lived centuries slaking his thirst with that of vermin...

Forcing their rotten, diseased blood down his hungry maw in sheer desperation...

The Vampire would still find your blood to be like ambrosia from the gods.

The sweetest thing to grace his tongue and warm his belly.

Sometimes it's hard to stop, if Astarion is being honest with himself.

But he loves you too, too much to put you in any mortal peril.

Though after a feeding you may feel dizzy and need to recuperate the next day.

It's just, after so long dining upon infected, squirming rats with mottled fur and yellowing buck teeth...

In the shadows of night, prowling the pests and repugnant riffraff.

He can't help himself and he's grateful you allow him to indulge a little.

But despite however ravenous he is, he's always gentle.

Pulling you close and kissing the moonlit column of your throat.

Tenderly wrapping his ivory arms around your waist, his tone sultry while whispering sweet nothings and gratitudes in your ear.

Astarion is so well versed in his ministrations that you've come to want him to feed off of you just as much as he wants, no, needs to be fed by you.

You relishing his hands leaving indents in the flesh of your hips and his breath upon your nape...

Often finding yourself tugging on strands of his curled silver locks to pull him closer.

Until no space is between you two. Until his mouth touches your neck.

And once it does, Astarion can't help but close his eyes, an involuntary shudder resounding through his whole body at the perfume of you.

Your essence a seductive potion which the Vampire would gladly, willingly lap up forever and ever.

No matter how gentle and inviting he makes the build up though, there's simply nothing to be done about the initial pain.

Astarion can't help the fact that once he bares his pearly, white fangs and sinks them into the sensitive flesh of your neck that it's unpleasant.

His fangs like two white hot pokers burrowing into your jugular vein, causing a muffled scream to leave you.

Your bottom lip plump from how hard you gnaw at it.

He does hate your scream. It revolts him that he's the cause of it.

But it is a momentary distress from you before you reassuringly comb through his hair again.

And after a few labored breaths, you ease into the pain. Getting used to it every single time.

By then he's drunk on you. Gorging himself on the nectar of your life. The crimson, pulsing river of your very being.

He's practically sent to heaven with each swallow and he never thought a spawn like him would get there.

Once you go slack in Astarion's arms he holds you tight, cradling your warm body. His fingers ghosting over your chest, hips, stomach...

And when your heartbeat begins to slow that's when he forces himself to pull away.

Licking the scarlet stream which drips down the two raw puncture wounds.

Cleaning up his mess all the way down to the start of your cleavage, exposed from your unlaced shirt.

Aftercare is incredibly important to Astarion and he is quick to sweep you up bridal style in his arms.

Tucking you safely into your shared bed and fetching you a glass of cool water.

You, weakened and tired, putting up little fuss but managing to smile at him and reach out to take his hand.

He wastes no time, falling into bed with you and pulling you close so your head is upon his chest.

He keeps you in a vice grip all night long so that any who would dare come to harm you in your diminished state would have to go through him first.

And he damn well would never let any harm come to you, save that of the wounds he assaults upon your neck.

And with you content but exhausted in Astarion's arms he licks his red stained lips and smiles in satisfaction.

He thinks you are a marvel really, to allow him to drink your blood in the first place.

To consent willingly and give him a taste of pure ecstasy.

And with his flushed cheeks and twinkling, enlivened crimson eyes, he places a kiss on your forehead.

Whispering how very much he loves you while you sleep soundly upon his chest.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #bg3 astarion x reader #astarion x reader #astarion imagine #astarion imagines #astarion headcanon #astarion headcanons #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 imagine #baldur's gate 3 headcanon #bg3 x reader #bg3 fic

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juniefruit · 1 month

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☆ My Dear ☆

☆ Tags: Han Jisung x fem reader, friends to lovers

☆ Summary: In which you’re both head over heels for eachother. Who wouldv’e known that such a simple word has Jisung wrapped around your finger…

☆ Warnings: Eventual smut, petnames, this shit nasty, MDNI!!!!!

☆ Word Count: 3.6k

It’s just a simple habit you picked up; how and where exactly… you can’t pinpoint. Calling people ‘dear’ as a mannerism, even for mundane things here and there. It’s almost subconsious: “thank you, dear.” or “would you pass me that cup, dear?” Just a passive way to be polite, right? Jisung knows you can’t help it. For a few years now, Jisung has been your ride or die. He’s always just a text or phone call away. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually a genie with how fast he always shows up at your side. You laugh together, you vent and rant together, nothing could sever your bond. Some might think you're too close to eachother to be just friends. You wouldn’t have it any other way, though. Jisung was everything you needed in a best friend. Goofy yet responsible; respectful yet lighthearted. Honestly, it’s hard not to imagine a life with him that’s past the boundaries of friendship. It doesn’t help that he’s the most attractive man you’ve had the pleasure of getting to know in your life. Because of your closeness, it’s also hard for Jisung. He would love nothing more than to hug you just because, cuddle up on the couch, and press passionate kisses to your pretty lips. And yet, the feelings go unspoken for fear of losing eachother.

There is one thing that Jisung wouldn’t tell anyone, not even if he was hooked up to a lie detector. Every time you call him dear, his mind spins. His heart races and he needs to manually control his breathing. Such a simple pet name, and yet his mind wanders. Would you call him that, when your thighs are splayed over his, and your fingers thread through his hair? When your breaths are laboured, and you can barely think straight? He would obey your every command. He would beg and plead under you, hands gripping the flesh of your hips in desperation. He would do anything to hear you call him that one more time. And another. And another, until you’re both climaxing with arms wrapped around eachother and necks covered in marks. That’s what he thinks about when he’s alone in his room, zoned out at his desk. Or in his bed. Or on the way to your apartment, which just so happens to be the reality. Great timing.

With spring just around the corner, you could practically feel that gloomy winter feeling melting like snow out of your body. The sun rays of the late afternoon dance through the windows of your living room and land on the hardwood floor. The city can be heard disatntly below. You sit comfortably on the couch, one leg tucked under the other, desperately trying to regain focus on your book. Your mind betrays you, once again pining over Jisung. Oh, how it would feel to finally call him yours. To show him every part of you. To lose yourself in complete adoration for him. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him, because you know he would do the same for you. Like that one time he was having trouble recording a verse just right. He stormed into your apartment, silently seething. No questions asked, you sat him down on the couch before preparing tea. When you returned, you stretched out your arms to invite him in. And he did just that. He couldn’t stay annoyed for long when he had the most beautiful girl comforting him. With a long sigh, he ranted. And you listened. You gave him your full attention. For that, he is forever grateful. A few days later, your boss decided to be extra stingy. You knew the deadline was quickly approaching, you knew there was still a lot to do. And yet he still felt the need to shove it in your face. The entire trip to Jisung’s apartment, stressed tears were bordering on your waterline. The knocks on the door with surprising force were Jisung’s first suspicion that something was up. When he opened it, his heart shattered. Who could have possibly done this to his pretty girl? He ushered you in with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. Opting for the floor, you sat, pulling your knees in tight.

“Please tell me, pretty girl, what happened?” He sat on his knees in front of you, leaning in. Silence from your end. The palm of his hand rubbed against the curve of your shoulder underneath your work clothes.

“Talk to me, Dear. So I can make it better. Why don’t you take a deep breath, hm?” Maybe your mannerisms were rubbing off on him. That didn’t mean they affected him any less. Still curled up with your head down, you talked. Like he asked. Because you couldn’t deny him for long. The rest is history.

The steady knocks at your door pull you out of your thoughts as you slam the book shut and place it on the coffee table. Your feet pad across the floor to unlock the door. You know it’s Jisung. He had texted you earlier, saying he’s on his way. For no specific reason other than he knew you were both at home anyway, enjoying the day off. When you open the door, You’re dazed every time. You can never get used to the sight that beholds you. Jisung, in a hoodie and jean jacket, black jeans hugging his toned thighs. His dark hair was in its natural curly state, a few stray strands falling forward above his eyes. You would want nothing more than to reach out a hand and sweep it to the side. That would make things weird, certainly. His small silver hoop earrings dangle as he looks up.

“Hey,” He says, with a content sigh and a subtle grin.

“Hi, Sungie! Come in-” You say, side stepping to give him room to enter. He’s unlacing his shoes while you walk to the kitchen.

“Want something to drink? I can make some tea?”

“Whatever you want, y/n. You make it, I'll drink it.” He says as he’s hanging up his jacket. You chuckle.

“Alright, Dear.”

The water in the kettle makes a bubbling sound off to the side. You’re occupied with preparing the tea bags when you sense Jisung’s presence behind you. It takes everything in you not to yelp in surprise when you feel a hand slide against your waist. Jisung reaches past you and grabs a glass from the cabinet. His presence is warm and comforting. If you leaned back just a bit, you’d be pressed right up against him. You freeze, but he continues his gentle gestures. The hand that isn’t still settled against the lower part of your waist sets the glass down. He grazes his hand over yours, takes the tea bag between his lithe fingers, and places it in the cup. When he speaks, it’s sensually close to your ear.

“You’re always so good to me… you make me tea, you comfort me when I’ve had a bad day, you even got me an entire cheesecake for my birthday. How could I ever repay you?” His voice is low and soothing.

“Being my best friend is more than enough, Dear.” You say with a considerate tone. You turn your head to face him, which was a grave mistake on your part. Now you’re nose to nose, wide-eyed and staring into his round, kind eyes. It takes a few seconds for him to muster up the courage before speaking.

“What if I didn’t want to be best friends anymore?” His voice was now serious.

“Uh, what?” This can’t be. Did you do something wrong? Before your brain short circuits, Jisung continues.

“I- Um, shit. I meant, what if you were my girlfriend instead?” That sounded better in his head, clearly. “I just- I think about you like, every day. When I’m at the studio with the guys. Or when I’m literally doing nothing. I don’t know what to do with myself-” You cut him off, not by saying anything, but by leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. Enough with the rambling.

“Jisung, dear, what if I didn’t want to be your best friend anymore either?” And with that, He grins so wide his eyes crinkle. He takes his arm off the counter to grab the other side of your waist, turning you completely towards him; eyes still locked.

“Then you better tell me if you don’t want this, too.” He’s leaning in and pressing his lips to yours before you can think of something to even say. Now realizing how useless your hands feel, you bring them up to rest on his shoulders. With newfound courage, you kiss back. You can practically feel the energy radiating from where he subtly moves his plush lips against yours. Not totally sure what to do, you mimic his own movement, which he seems contempt with because he releases a low groan and gently exhales through his nose. The scent of his cherry chapstick invades your nose. It’s certainly doing its job; his lips are softer than the finest silk. Truly, you’re not thinking of anything other than him, and where he’s touching you.

The alarm of the kettle snaps you back into the space of your apartment. You hum into his mouth when he doesn’t immediately let go. Jisung lets out a low whine, and tightens his arms around you. The feeling is dangerous. Reluctantly, you pull away from his lips with a loud smack.

“Sungie Dear, the water-”

“I finally get to kiss you, and you’re giving the kettle priority over me?” He says, teasingly. He pouts, puffing his cheeks out.

“Let me at least turn it off-” You wiggle and squirm in his hold. When he feels you create that friction, he finally realizes that he should have tried to keep his composure a little more. Especially since you’ve been calling him by that saccharine nickname ever since he stepped through the door. Luckily, the material of his jeans was thick enough that he felt confident you didn’t notice anything. As if his arms weighed a hundred pounds each, he pulled them away; not without dragging them across your hips first. He huffs out a ‘fine’ before following you to the other side of the kitchen. Like an obedient puppy, he tracks behind as you carry the kettle to the two cups on the counter. You pour them both. Not even a second goes by after you set the kettle down and Jisung has his arms wrapped around your middle and head resting on your shoulder from behind. You chuckle.

“There. Happy now?” You inquire.

“Very.” One of his arms travels up your upper body. He takes his time, applying pressure to every dip and curve of your side. When he reaches your neck, he brushes your hair behind your ear and to the back. Goosebumps make their way up your arms. Not because it’s cold. On the contrary, you’re burning up. Surely your cheeks are bright red and your eyes can’t focus on anything in front of you. When Jisung leans his head in to whisper in your ear, he also slightly pushes his middle into yours, craving more physical touch.

“Tell me, pretty girl, is this okay? I’ve been thinking about you for so long, I would hate to rush things.”

“It’s okay. I promise.” You can barely get the words out when you feel his body against yours, even with clothes. If you’re feeling this stimulated now, How will you even be able to breathe when you go farther than this? The verdict is, you’ll find out when you get there.

“What, am I making you nervous?” He teases. You can feel his breath on your neck when he talks.

“I mean- yeah, but not in- not in a bad way. I- please, just do something.” You whine softly at the end.

“Say the magic word, pretty girl.” His lips are so close tto the nape of your neck now that you can feel his lips moving as he speaks.

“Please, Dear.” Never in your life had you felt him so eager like this. His plush lips molded against the nape of your neck under your ear. His arms shifted and tightened against your midriff when he heard you breath out a heavy sigh. His tongue darted out to run over his lips and, in the process, ran over the soft skin of your neck. At that, you let out the tiniest whine. Jisung heard it and ran with it. Licking and sucking against your neck with fervor as your hands glided over his own. With one last languid suck into the sensitive new mark, he flipped you around and gently pushed you further into the counter. You looked utterly divine; out of breath and waiting for the next move. Jisung passionately gave you one last kiss. His lips were wet from his earlier escapade, and his tongue darted out for a kitten lick against your own lips. He swears he’s never felt or tasted anything better. Your head is spinning when you gently part your lips to deepen the kiss. Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you feel his core slowly move against your own. It was experimental. You do the same motion back. Jisung gasps against your mouth.

“Um, shit, I- I’m sorry, I definitely took this too far. Was that okay, baby?” He’s trying to speak and catch his breath at the same time. You stare into his worried eyes.

“More than okay. Now, it seems like I’m the one waiting.” You exclaim with a push of your hips against his. His face scrunches from the stimulation.

“Come to the couch with me.” He pulls you off of the kitchen counter and guides you through the living room with arms still wrapped around you. You take your own hands and press the pads of your fingers into the back of his neck where his hair curls. You gently tug, and he lets out a quiet, breathy moan. You fall back onto the couch. Jisung leans over you, silver earrings twinkling in the golden rays from the last sunlight of the day. Oh yeah, it’s golden hour. As Jisung places his arms on either side of your shoulders, the ethereal orange light makes him look like a fallen angel. He can say the same for you. Your hair is a bit tussled, and you’re looking up at him with doe eyes that he’s never even had the power to imagine. When he comes closer, he sensually slots his hips against yours and grinds. One of his legs rests on the couch for stability as you lay under him. Your fingers are still tangled in his hair when he runs his palms down your arms and to your middle. His hands slide under your sweatshirt to caress the soft skin there. You let out a wanton moan at the contact. His hips do not relent. Your hands slide down from his hair, scratching along his clothed back, and hooking into the belt loops of his jeans. He gasps and whines.

“It’s a bit hot in here, don’t you think?” He asks teasingly from his position above you.

“Why dont you take this off then, my Dear?” You pull on the hem of his hoodie.

“Yeah, of course Baby. Anything.” His words are breathy and he can barely think straight. The way the word shapes your lips and leaves your mouth in the softest, most sensual tone has his braincells running laps. He mimics your movements and runs his own hands down to the belt of your jeans before raising them and throwing his hoodie over his head and somewhere off to the side. His wide shoulders accent the planes of his chest, perfectly toned. His eyes look down at your chest.

“Can I take this off, Baby?” He asks, gathering the material of your sweatshirt in one hand. His hips are still connected to yours but halt their movements. You can feel him through his jeans, that’s how high strung he is. You nod your head with a hum as he grapples with the material. Your fingers fiddle with the button on his jeans. Your eyes are heavy with desire.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, my Dear?”

He moans and his eyes roll back. “Yes… hah…”

You unbutton his jeans to feel his member through his boxers. Jisung’s tongue is licking into yours until he begins to leave open mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck, and laving over your collar bone.

“So gorgeous Baby…mmmmmh” He groans into your skin. You crane your neck to give him space, while leaving kisses on his own. The silver earring dangles against your nose. You shimmy your own pants off, finally becoming too unbearable. You both moan at the new level of closeness and the pressure of your nether regions against one another. Jisung’s moans grow higher in pitch and frequency the longer your hand rubs over him.

“Ah, ah Baby, stop before I cum like this…” his eyebrows knit together. You let out a hum.

“Let’s take these off then, my Dear.” You shimmy your hands under his boxers in order to pull them down with his jeans at the same time. Once they’re down at his ankles, he pulls them off the rest of the way. His swollen cock stands and pearls of glistening precum gather at the tip. He jolts when you swipe a finger over the head to gather it, before impatiently tugging your jeans and underwear down in one go. They plop down onto the floor. Your hearts beat rapidly in tandem with anticipation. Jisung tears his eyes away from your chest to look you in the eyes.

“You’re sure this is okay, yeah?” He exhales.

“Yeah. Now come here.” He keens at the command. Your knees raise up to lock in around his waist, his sensitive cock between you two. His hands grip the sides of your waist for stability, and his thumbs rub soothing motions into your heated skin. He adjusts his hips so his tip drags over your clit before finding your entrance between your folds. He would have prepped you with his nimble fingers had it not been for your joined impatience. So, to make up for it, his tongue drags down and over your right nipple, licking stripes up and down. Your back arches at the stimulation. Jisung slowly pushes his cock in, until his head pushes past the throbbing ring of muscle only to be met with your velvet walls enveloping every inch. His thighs quiver, and his hands make grabby motions against your waist.

“Ah, hahh, so good Baby, all nice and so wet…” You mewl and whine. Your brain is going into overdrive with the way jisung’s chest moves as he takes deep breaths in. The way his dark hair falls across his face and just barely covering his eyes. When he gives an experimental grind with his length inside, you both let out breathy groans. Your arms circlearound to grasp at his shoulder blades, and your nails subtly scratch. He shudders and moves his hips deeper. Every thrust is accentuated with a huff hrom his plump, kiss-swollen lips. Your scratches on his back make him pick up the speed of his thrusts, until he gets an idea. He leans even closer and slides his arms around your back.

“I have an idea… hmmmh, flip over for me, Baby.” You both rotate until you’re now sitting on top of him. Your thighs are pressed on top of his and honestly, the sight is heavenly. Jisung won’t admit how long he’s wanted to see you like this. He knows he won’t last long like this, not when he’s already so stimulated. Inbetween bounces, you’re mumbling praises that make Jisung ascend. Little whispers of “so good, my Dear” and “right- right there, Dear…” It gets harder and harder for him to control the speed of his thrusts when he’s so close now that he can taste it. Every time he pushes back in, your walls tighten around him. There’s a little puddle of your combined slick at the base of his cock aiding in the rush to cum. Every time you sink down all the way to his base, your clit hits against his lower tummy that is also thrusting up to meet you halfway. His hands are gripping at your upper thigh with a force that might leave fingertip-shaped bruises tomorrow, but right now, nothing feels better. One of his hands drags down to press his pointer and middle finger into your clit to rub tight circles. Your release builds and builds in waves until you’re crashing down with him, hunching over and biting into the nape of his neck. Whiny moans and groans fill the living room as Jisung goes taut with his orgasm.

“Ha-ah ohhhh Baby, I’m- ughh cumming-!”

His breathing is heavy and he’s pulling you so close that there is no point on your upper bodies that aren’t in contact. It takes a solid few minutes to control breathing and regain sense of where you are. Your poor couch. Jisung exhales with a smug grin and lidded eyes, looking up at you. His hands are drawing little circles into your waist.

“Sit here Baby, let me go get some things to clean up..” he says before pulling you off to sit limp against the couch. He comes back with a soft damp washcloth, and water.

“Oh… thank you, my Dear.” You say as you take the water with both of your hands.

“You’ll have to cut that out unless you want round two…” Jisung warns with a tilt of his head. Two cups of tea sit long forgotten on the kitchen island, cool enough that they can be used for iced tea instead.

☆ Read more of my works here~ masterlist

#stray kids x reader #han jisung #han x reader #han x y/n #jisung x reader #stray kids jisung #stray kids han #jisung x y/n #jisung x you #skz x reader #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #fanfic #stray kids smut #skz smut #smut

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inuyashaluver · 3 months

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heyyy, would you be able to do a fic where reader and Leah is dating but they play on different national teams and when they are facing each other Leah accidentally injures reader with some angst and fluff at the end please loveeee ur fics

enemy affair - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which you and your girlfriend get into a heated match for your national teams, causing you to get injured and leah to panic

warnings: slightly angsty, mentions of injury, leah was at the world cup (a girl can dream), swearing

a/n: thank you for the love and request, lovely!! please enjoyyyy ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, leah were absolutely head over heels for each other. you truly had so much love for one another, it made you both feel sick.

there was just something about how easy, genuine and special your relationship was. you two were soulmates and you were reminded through each other and other people around you telling you so almost every day.

—

you and leah met when you signed to arsenal when you and leah were both 21. you got along instantly, mutual attraction and pining driving the two of you and everyone around you insane when no one would make the first move.

it took you and leah cuddling at a team bonding session to make your teammates snap and your relationship to begin.

leah was sitting on the longer part of the couch at her place, you in between her legs. your back was pressed against her front while you played with her hands wrapped around your body.

you were both in your own world, leah would dip her head to speak directly in your ear to make you giggle. you always leaned your body into hers when she spoke, she was so warm and comforting, why wouldn’t you stay wrapped up in her embrace?

it took about 40 minutes of you and leah whispering and giggling while watching a movie until jen, steph and beth all collectively broke out in complaints.

“i can’t take it anymore, are you dating yet or not?” steph grumbles, looking at both of you sternly, leah in her protective nature pulled you impossibly closer to her. before you both could say anything, you’re interrupted.

“you clearly love each other, just fucking date!” jen exclaims, beth and steph nod in agreement. you and leah just look at them with wide eyes, still embracing each other. “we’re not dating” leah says almost sadly, you knew you needed to change that. you stayed silent watching the girls grumble to each other and complain about you and leah.

when the girls left, it left you and leah alone. as soon as she closed the door after waving the final girls off, you pressed her up against the door, kissing her passionately. she hums against your mouth surprised, hands immediately making their way to your hips to press you up against her.

you both smile slightly in the kiss before leah’s tongue brushes over your lip. she’s rewarded by a small whine escaping the back of your throat when her tongue enters your mouth fully. she smirks before your heads are tilting to deepen it further, lasting for a few seconds before you both pull away, flushed and breathless.

“that was nice” leah chuckles, experimentally kissing your lips once more before fully facing you.

“you’re nice” you remark cheekily, making the blonde grin and lift up her hand to cradle your jaw, her thumb brushing back and forth over the skin.

“would you like to be my girlfriend, baby?” leah asks so softly, you almost couldn’t hear her. you smile up at her lovingly. “i’d love to” you move forward to place a quick kiss on her lips and she chases your lips immediately when you try to pull away, kissing you in a way that makes you dizzy where your knees almost give out from under you.

it was the start of forever for both of you.

—

you and leah both play for different national teams. leah with england and you with australia. you and leah didn’t mind versing each other because both of you knew how important football was to one another.

you were both extremely passionate about it, it was what you loved and did for a living. everytime you did have to verse each other, it was competition, and if anything, you both expected the best from each other and no less.

if one of you felt the other was lacking, you’d tell them and you both appreciated it. and as soon as it was all over, you’re giggling, kissing and hugging each other like normal.

—

it was during the women’s world cup semi finals that you both had a relatively heated match. there was a lot on the line, making it to the final for your country and bringing home the gold medal.

throughout the entire competition, you and leah went to every match that you both had, wearing each other’s jerseys with proud smiles while being one another’s biggest fans.

you and leah always met up during free time, both of you absolutely giddy when you saw each other. you both never really lived apart in a while so national duties were always a little rough for the both of you, as you were both so used to being attached at the hip.

you both met up the night before the semi final match of england vs australia. you were getting ready for a little beach date with leah when she knocked on the door. you rush to open it and stumbled over your own feet and fell slightly. you hear leah’s little giggle from the other side of the door, you open it with pink cheeks and a shy smile.

“hi, lee” you laugh nervously, she instantly brightens at seeing you, pulling you into a tight hug “hi, baby girl” she breathes out, swaying you gently side to side. “did you fall over?” leah chuckles, kissing your cheek three times before pulling back to look at you from arm’s length.

“no” you scoff offendedly, “hm, really? i think you did” she says teasingly, pecking your lips quickly before pushing you further into the room to tackle you to your bed. you laugh at feeling her sink into you while she kisses your neck all over.

“i thought we were going to the beach?” you mock her accent and she bites your neck teasingly but not making a mark, she chuckles when you let out a little squeal.

“we are, baby, is it a crime to kiss my fit girlfriend?” she hovers over you and smiles affectionately when you roll your eyes. she gets off you and drags you out of the room after your numerous protests at wanting to spend time with her outside the hotel.

you both have a sweet, simple time at the beach, talking and having fun until it hits 9pm on the dot for leah to force you to get up to take you back to your hotel. “we need proper rest for tomorrow, missy” leah reprimands, pushing you to your door with a parting kiss.

“i love you” you quip out quickly, “i love you too, go to sleep, please” leah replies back. you grin at her mockingly, “so strict and i’m your opponent?” leah laughs at that, “well right now you’re my girlfriend so yes, bed” she winks, you kiss her gently and she attempts to usher you inside but she’s too magnetising. “one more” you whine, she smiles amusingly at you, kissing you once more before waving you off.

she texts you when she makes it back to her room, both of you sending each other messages of good luck before you both go to bed.

—

it was the next morning and you were feeling nervous. there was so much riding on this and it slightly overwhelmed you. both teams would go on the pitch before the match to warm up. the matildas were out first and you were warming up with steph, laughing as she eased your nerves about today.

when suddenly, you hear a wolf whistle coming from behind you and you smile instantly, spinning around to launch yourself in your girlfriend’s outstretched arms.

“my girl” she coos, hugging you tightly as she kisses your cheek. you smile and lean into her, ignoring the teasing from both sides. “hi, baby, you look hot” you say simply, kissing her quickly before pulling away. she smiles amusingly at you, holding both of your hands and swinging them gently as you conversed.

“i’m showing a lot of restraint right now to not pull you in an empty physio room” leah admits lowly, making your eyes widen while she smiles charmingly at you. “my beautiful girl” she adds, you move to hug her so you could hide your pink cheeks, spurring a little giggle from her while you held onto her tightly.

you talked for a bit before you had to continue warm ups, you kiss each other quickly as you part and as soon as you turn, leah smacks your behind and you shake your head instantly. turning around to see her wink while running backwards to her team.

—

before you both lined up in the tunnel, she pulled you aside, giving you and encouraging hug and a little pep talk, you returning the gesture.

“be the best one out there” leah says sternly, you nod instantly while you squeeze her hands.

“you too, i’m expecting you to give it your all” you reply in your own stern voice before you both break out in a little smile and hugging each other briefly.

she nods at you when you line up and you wink at her, both of you tuning everything out and focusing on the upcoming match.

the match was insanity, both teams creating a huge amount of chances but just unable to make it happen. you were playing forward with sam, meaning your prime defender was leah, always your hardest competitor as she knew your movements like the back of her hand.

england managed to get their first goal through ella and the pressure was getting harder. your team evened it out when sam got a goal. when lauren follows up with her own goal, the pressure only got worse.

you all worked tirelessly, you decide to make a runner and just try and take a shot, though when you run with the ball from caitlin, your legs are swept out from under you and you fall on your side with a pained grunt.

the referee blew the whistle and immediately stopped the match when you wouldn’t move, you couldn’t hear anything other than caitlin and steph arguing with leah in the distance

“what the fuck, mate?” caitlin exclaims, giving leah a little shove when she attempted to go to you. “leah, that was bad” steph shakes her head, leah’s eyes are wide with panic.

she could feel her body tensing up. “what the fuck have i done?” she breathes out, watching you lay on the floor with a pained expression. she could feel her eyes prickle with tears as she stared at you being assessed by the medics.

everything drowned out to leah as she focused on you, her hands frustratingly running up and down her face. you felt fine, it was sure to bruise just from high impact but you truly were fine. the medics get up to leave and help you to stand on your feet.

you assure your teammates you were fine before looking over to see leah being comforted by millie and alessia. you rush over to her and hug her from behind, pouting slightly at feeling her flinch.

everyone was getting water and let you and leah have your moment, the match would start up again soon.

“leah” you say gently, unwrapping your arms around her waist so she could face you. at seeing her tearful expression, you hold her by her bicep.

“baby, i’m fine, it’s okay” you reassure but she shakes her head unconvinced, a shaky hand reaching for the side you fell on before letting it drop to her side again.

“i’m so fucking stupid, i’m so sorry” she grits out earnestly, she’s disappointed with herself.

“leah cathrine williamson” you start sternly, “no, you’re playing how I expect you to and i'm so fucking proud of you” you squeeze her bicep gently and she bores her eyes into yours sadly.

“don’t you dare think like that, we’ll talk after, we need to get back” you didn’t give her another opportunity to speak, kissing her cheek gently before getting back in position. alessia managed to finish the match off with a goal and you all knew it was over. no matter how much you pushed and pushed, you couldn’t get another goal.

when the final whistle blew, you collapsed to the floor in absolute exhaustion. the england girls came up to you to haul you up and give you hugs, you were close to pretty much all of them through leah.

you look around the pitch to see leah nervously nearing you, she was worried about your reaction of her team beating you as well as injuring you not that long ago.

“there she is!” you say brightly, running over to her and wrapping her into a tight hug, she hesitates before wrapping her arms around you, burying her face into the crook of your neck. her embrace was so emotional and raw, as well with the loss, tears were brought to your eyes.

“i’m so sorry” leah mumbles into your skin, you run your hands over her jersey in comforting circles, “it’s okay, baby” you coo, moving your head slightly to kiss her cheek repeatedly, at feeling your tears graze her skin, she pulls back to look at you with her own tearful expression.

“i’m so proud of you, leah” you say earnestly, she could’ve sobbed on the spot. “i’m proud of you too, love” she smiles gently, moving her hand up to wipe the stray tears on your cheek. you lean into her hands with a smile, “congratulations, ms semi final winner” you say cheekily, she huffs out a little laugh, only you would joke in a situation like this and she loved it.

“thanks, not important right now, are you alright?” she asks nervously, her hand gently placed against where you fell. “i’m okay, lee, really” you look into her eyes and she analyses you for any hint of a lie but you weren’t.

“i’ll kiss it better, i promise” she winks, both of you were normal and it relieved everyone around you. “i’ll hold you to it, williamson” you smile, puckering your lips up for a kiss that she happily gives you before you walk off to your respective teammates.

tears were shed and disappointment was evident but no one could deny all your hard work as a team. you were all proud of each other, regardless of the result. you all did your appreciation lap with tearful yet proud expressions, you were so close but you were truly fine with it.

you clap as england does their lap, running up to leah when she was done with a happy smile and she immediately understands what you’re hinting at. you both swap jerseys and hug each other again while you whisper proud words in leah’s ear that she appreciates more than anyone’s.

you kiss her cheek repeatedly and she holds onto you tightly, kissing your forehead, your nose, your lips quickly and pressing a long one to your cheek.

—

when you both made it to your hotel, she kept her promise and spread apologetic, affectionate kisses over the bruising skin as you card your hands through her hair. you couldn’t help but cry in leah’s arms when the night was over, she comforted you as your girlfriend and anything but your opponent. she whispers sweet nothings in your ear when she holds onto you tightly, being there for you however long you’d let her.

when england advanced to the final, you of course went to the game with your ‘williamson’ jersey, sitting with her family. at the result, leah bounds over to you with a heartbroken expression and you switched roles. you both held each other in a way no one else could, the comfort of one another being the only thing you could’ve wanted in your moments of vulnerability.

you and leah were both disappointed with your results but were extremely happy and proud of each other and that’s all that mattered to the both of you.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

different kind of drill, pretend this is you and leah lmao, love ya alex and ellie xx

liked by caitlinfoord and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: low quality picture but high quality girl, so proud of you and i love you so much x

view all comments

yourname: oh you’re just the cutest ever, i love you, my pretty leah baby!

↳ leahwilliamsonn: i love you, my girl

↳ yourname: my girllllll

yourname: wow, hottest captain xx

↳ samanthakerr20: sorry? country traitor?

↳ yourname: oh, what are you doing here?

↳ leahwilliamsonn: this is such an honour, wow

↳ yourname: baby, sam put me in time out

↳ leahwilliamsonn: i can’t interfere, my love

↳ yourname: you love me? my ass.

↳ leahwilliamsonn: baby, i do!

↳ samanthakerr20: dog house, mate, my bad

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

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tarjapearce · 10 months

Text

Iridiscent

PirateAU! Miguel x Mermaid! Reader

Thanks to @sarapaprikas-blog for the idea ❤️✨. Been loving to experience with different AU'S lately ✨. Hope you like!

Warnings: Mild angst and historical figure mentions, implied mysticism ~

Prologue ✨

Pt. 2

As far as history was told, the sea had been the biggest grave in the world. Countless men, nations and civilizations perished under the might of the ever infinite sea. Not many dared to venture, after all, the stories of countless ships sunk under behemoth waves reached through all dry land known.

But that didn't stop the greatest empires to expand and colonize newly discovered lands thanks to years of observation. Many thought of the sea a living being, a being that could be tamed or at least controlled enough to small civilizations to be born in lands people only dreamed of.

However, as the sea earned it's title of a living creature, the mysticism around it grew. Many believed the sea was a she, and bringing a woman on board only made her jealous. A common belief among outcasts and pirates. Something that was debunked as the golden age of piracy advanced.

But even so, the word spread around was that the sea favored female pirates better than men. Lagertha, Mary Read, Anne Bonnie, Zheng Shi, Grace O'Malley, to name a few of the most iconic pirates that against all, conquered, navigated, commanded and plundered at their contempt.

Many believed that they had done a pact with the devil himself, but others strongly believed that there were creatures below that left no trace once the women settled for a target. Mermaids.

Creatures often described as the beauty of death itself embodied. Beautiful women luring men to their inevitable deaths. Something, that some men longed for, and feared by others. The rumor was that if you caught a mermaid alive, the creature was bound to grant you a wish.

But for Miguel, they were nothing but myths and lies. A once young and naive self had ventured in the sea to find one, so he could cure his daughter once the land medics had abandoned all hope. And so he did, once his little girl had closed her twinkling innocent eyes, full of dreams, forever.

He was a changed man after that. He didn't allow his men to talk about such nonsensical things in his ship, Reina Gabriela, and poor of the man that was caught red handed. Reason had gotten him where he was, a feared outlaw among the Spaniards and English folk alike. Not by his overall intimidating looks, but the ruthless and cunning of his attacks.

The Red Eyed Demon, they called him.

------

Miguel had settled the route towards an island that promised a proper restock of his resources. He would let his men unwind, he'd probably spend the night away with a well prepared courtesan. The type of woman that knew how to entertain him beyond the physical ways, once they were on land.

By sunset, he would be landing. The island itself wasn't a problem, the inhabitants of it were. At least for him, full of highly superstitious people, that were always showering him in foul smelling concoctions, lung itching fumes and heavy charms of protection to "cleanse the spirit of anything that could drag you and your ship down".

Isla del Sol, or Sunny Island as many called it, was like a secret hideway-paradise for Pirates that stopped by to rest. Opposite from what the Spaniards and English believed, the Island was run under the command of a council of five.

A retired English commander that did better as a pirate than a law enforcer named Edward, A Spaniard pirate well versed in the arts of administration named Xavier, A jamaican man which eloquence only rivaled the Queen's erudites themselves named Toussaint, An asian woman trained in the arts of killing and weaponry named Sheng Hyun, and a white haired chaman whose wisdom was often seeked by the rest.

So far the island had worked and thrived under their command. They had even asked Miguel to join them, because of his strategic and cunning mind. But of course, he refused. A man like him wasn't easily bound to bureaucratics, even though, ironically he had strict rules in his ship.

His men were loyal, after all, Miguel took proper care of his crew. Well fed, healthy, well armed, and now, well rested. Reina Gabriela approached the docks and soon the men worked. Some put the extended sails away, others put the weaponry in their place, others cleaned and so on. Everyone had a role aboard, and Miguel made sure for them to accomplish it.

He threw a small pouch of gold to a nearby man to watch over his ship as he was out. The island felt like another city, but difference was, that inside land there were no guards, no laws that didn't benefit them. And if anyone caused a ruckus, Sheng Hyun was sent to deal with it, personally.

His men scattered around, except for the quarter master, the cook, weaponry master, Navy Engineer and doctor. They discussed briefly the upgrades for the ship, new dishes to the menu, and new places to get weapons, medicines and sturdier woods from. He dismissed them once everyone had their list, then he was alone.

His feet took him nearby the merchants as they exposed their goods to everyone passing by. Guards uniforms, royal weapons and wax seals perfect for an unsuspecting ruse, medicines, a new type of powder that was a bit more waterproof, Chinese explosives, sedating darts, portraits of naked royal women, some gemstones, and of course, luck charms and talismans.

He scoffed as his eyes rolled at the various trinkets. He had to admit that whoever came with these ideas had found a gold mine that relied in people's blind faith, probably would shake their hand if he ever knew who it was. One trinket stood out from the rest.

It was an iridescent pearl, a quarter size of his palm, along some black and pearly scales protuding ontop. There was no chain around it to be worn, the merchant noticed him staring at the trinket and smiled.

"Good if y'wanna catch a mermaid. They love shiny things."

Miguel looked at him with an eyebrow quirked and a skeptical look.

"You seem confident enough to sell these... crafts."

"Ah, another nonbeliever. Tis'fine mate. I've dealt with so many like you before. Mostly of the non believing part roots from something denied to you in the past. Am'i'rite?"

Miguel's jaw clenched softly at the boldness of the man. He looked like the typical merchant with shady business on the side.

"Leave this man alone, Joseph." The chaman of the council spoke behind Miguel as she took the pearl in her old, wrinkled hands.

"Come" He motioned Miguel to follow. Despite being a highly spiritual woman, the council's chaman did not pressure him into believing, but rather spoke to him sometimes in riddles. Riddles that he grew tired of eventually. He followed.

"A surprise to find you watching these sort of trinkets, Miguel."

"Hard to not when they get stranger and colorful each time I come here."

The elder lady hooked her arm on his as she supported on Miguel, that secured her as he walked next to her.

"I'd be grateful if you wouldn't speak about anything mystic tonight."

"Wasn't my intention, boy. But I must say, you've got quite the eye for these things. It's a real pearl, if you wish to sell it."

Miguel kept walking, being led by the chaman.

"Or I could gift it to a mermaid" Miguel chuckled and the lady looked at him with curious eyes.

"Well, to do such thing, you'd have to find one first."

"I won't, cause they're not real."

The chaman smiled smugly at him.

"What would you do if your homeland got infested with rotting bodies, blood and so many other unpleasant things continuously?"

"I'd look for a new home." he humored, but the lady only nodded in approval.

"And what kind of home you'd look for?"

"One that wasn't near the cities or civilization. Probably a secret manantial or even a virgin island"

The lady smiled

"Congratulations, Miguel. You now have the first lead into finding a mermaid."

"You can't expect me to believe such things."

"No lo espero, pero sé que tu curiosidad por dichas criaturas ha aumentado. ¿Qué es lo deseas tener?" (I don't, but I know for sure that your curiosity for such creatures have peaked your interest. What is it you long for?)

Miguel looked down at the lady, wistfully and she rubbed his arm comfortingly. Like a grandma would.

"My dear. Mystical creatures can only do so much, Miguel. Sadly, bringing back the dead isn't something they can do."

"No sabes de lo que hablas. No me conoces" (You don't know what you are talking about. You don't know me)

He seethed the last words as his grip abandoned the lady. His body tensed when the chaman reached out again to take his large hand.

"Loss is part of our lives, Miguel" Her wrinkled hands put the pearl in his hand, hers covered his warmly, pushing the trinket further in his hands, "And we all move on eventually. Life is full of wonders, and who knows, maybe what you find ahead in your path is exactly what you need"

He nearly growled as another riddle was added to the list.

"Te dije que te dejaras de-" (Thought I told you to quit the-)

His mouth gaped slightly, the lady was gone. He was left alone with the pearl in his hand, "Acertijos..." (Riddles...) he sighed and stared at the pearl, to then tuck it back on his pocket.

What was he longed for?

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #pirate au #mermaid au #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #female rader

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spdrslayr · 10 months

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003. atsv headcanons ! ★ pre collider jonathon ohnn x reader…

! pt. 2 - post collider hcs. ⁀➷ srcs... masterlist .rules. intro .

| synopsis, ୨♡୧ a little glimpse into your relationship with dr. johnathon ohnn.

★ tags -> gender neutral reader; johnathon ohnn; the spot; fluff; etc...

★ warnings -> cursing; johnathon being a meanie; mentions of trauma & abandonment

★ w.c -> 1,028

| xox, mei! ୨♡୧ -> earlier a centipede got into my room while i was bopping out to hyperpop. it scared me so much that i was able to leverage the fear into energy for writing.

he loves to make you laugh. johnathon’s such a goof compared to other renowned scientists of his age and caliber. really, it’s a breath of fresh air. he knows how to have fun, especially with you. he’ll crack the funniest joke at work only for his coworkers to look at him like: 😐😐😐; so it makes him really happy to know you think he’s funny. you both have so many inside jokes n stories that you’ll cherish forever.

he’s totally the type of person to make jokes whenever he’s nervous or unsure of what to say. he won you over by being silly!

he’ll say the meanest jokes about people you both don’t like, and it’s insanely funny. you think of your johnny as the sweetest boyfriend- but you have to admit, it’s kinda hot when he’s mean.

“if mr.fisk keeps crying about the mets- i’m gonna make sure this collider kills us all,” he grumbled under his breath.

“that annoying photographer visited alchemax again. what was his name…” he feigned innocence. “piper pickle?”

johnathon is such a nerd. it’s adorable how excited he gets about his favorite video games and movies. please indulge in his geeky interests!! he’d love love LOVE to watch some of his favorite sci-fi movies with you. he’ll talk over the entire movie, but it’s still nice to cuddle.

if you don’t know how to play a certain video game of his, he’ll teach you. his voice is so soft n understanding, his breath tickling you while you cuddle. johnathon’s squished to your side, his large hands covering n guiding yours over the controller. and gets so giddy when you win something. all in all, he’s just happy to share something so dear to him with you.

imagine if it turned out one of his favorite characters (crushes cough cough) bore a striking resemblance to you. johnathon is mortified and you’re weirdly flattered (and planning an elaborate cosplay for a surprise.)

his intelligence drives you nuts. it’s INSANELY attractive to you how smart johnathon is. whenever he goes on a tangent about physics or some complicated mathematical concept, you get kind of dizzy listening to him. you don’t mean to, but after a while, you get too distracted by all of him to listen. he’s so passionate, his large hands and long fingers waving about to help emphasize his point. his eyes are sparkling too. his voice got a lot deeper when he (perfectly, by the way) pronounced the word “viscoelasticity” and you’re on cloud 9. this happens whether or not you can understand a word he’s saying. and if you’re not well versed in science, he never talks down to you when rambling. sure, he’s very proud to be a super-genius, but he’d never dream of looking down on other people because of it.

you’re always asking him questions and he fucking loves it. DON’T ASK GOOGLE ABOUT SCIENCE SHIT. if you do he’ll be all pouty n sad.

“hey siri, what is the shape of an electron-”

he looks furious, letting out a scoff. “i’m right here. your smart-ass boyfriend is only a few feet away and you’re asking ol’ googly eyes!”

despite being a busy workaholic, he insists that he’s never too busy for you. if necessary, he’ll make time.

johnathon’s made it his mission to outsmart anyone who impresses you. “i’m not jealous i’m BETTER.”

johnathon adores cuddling you, especially after a stressful day. he just loves you so much that sometimes the only way he can express that to you is by holding you as close as humanly possible. johnathon adores every inch of your being and intends to appreciate every part of it, scars and all. one may expect him to be the big spoon because, well, long man- but it goes either way. sometimes he clutches you like his life depends on it and other times he just needs to bask in your embrace. it makes him feel safe, loved, and on his worst days, invincible.

when in bed, he’ll be running his big hands up and down your sides, rubbing circles into every dent n curve. his hands are hairy, so it’ll tickle a bit, but the way he massages you is nothing short of masterful. he’s so happy that you’re his, so he makes sure to savor you.

johnny loves it when you trace his tattoos. he thinks it’s so cute how much you love them, letting you ‘oooh’ and ‘awww’ as much as your pretty little heart desires.

in the past he absolutely loathed going to alchemax events. being choked by a black tie for a whole ass evening while being forced to mingle with rich assholes is a nightmare for the poor man. but having you come along as his date makes the experience a more positive one. johnathon gets so smug, always delighted to show you off. like yeah, that’s MY s/o. yes they’re gorgeous and taken. by ME. he loves seeing you all dressed up, especially when you’re on his arm.

he’s an introvert, so he gets tired of all the socializing quickly. when that happens, he’ll wander around the venue with you (including places you aren’t allowed to be at-) to get some privacy (and make out.)

speaking of work, he has a picture of you on his desk. he has it placed at an angle so he can see it clearly, but so can anyone who walks in.

johnnys practically screaming: “hey!! look at how beautiful my partner is!!!!”

he calls you baby. he’ll also call you dear, honey, and sweetheart, but baby the most. also counting babe. johnathon has a shit ton more cute nicknames for you and he is NOT afraid to use them.

“g’morning, baby,” he’ll murmur into the crook of your neck, in between sloppy wet kisses on your shoulder.

he passes by you in a rush, but not without pressing a big wet kiss to your check, “hi babe! :)”

“baaaaaabe where did you put the chips?” he can be whiny, especially with you.

“i love you, baby,” he’d tell you softly, cradling your face with his hand. his thumb is rubbing your bottom lip and you’re ready to faint.

#atsv #across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #johnathon ohnn #johnathon ohnn x reader #the spot #the spot x reader #jonathan ohnn #jonathan ohnn x reader #johnathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn x reader

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tarotwithavi · 7 months

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Some random things your FS will say to you (poetic edition)

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Piles : 1-2-3

Masterlist

Paid services

Let's check their poetic rizz 🤪

Pile 1

"Every moment with you feels like a new chapter in our love story."

"You are the poetry my heart never knew it could write."

"In your eyes, I found my forever."

"I'll be your shelter in the storm, your anchor in the chaos."

"Even in a world of millions, my eyes are drawn to you alone."

"Your laughter is the music that fills my soul."

"I'd travel through time and space just to be with you."

"You are the missing piece that completes my puzzle of life."

"Every day with you is an adventure, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"No matter where life takes us, my love for you will always be a constant."

"Your love is the canvas upon which I paint the masterpiece of my life. And my life is a masterpiece because of you"

"You are the serendipity I never knew I needed."

Pile 2

"In your presence, I find my peace and my passion all at once."

"With you, even ordinary moments become extraordinary memories."

"You are the star that guides me through the darkest nights."

"My love for you is like a fingerprint, unique and indelible."

"In a world of fleeting moments, you are my eternity."

"Like a compass points north, my heart always points to you."

"You're the reason I believe in love stories that last a lifetime."

"With every beat of my heart, I choose you, over and over again."

"You're not just my love; you're my favorite adventure."

"Your laughter is the melody that brightens my darkest days."

"In your eyes, I see a reflection of my best self."

"Loving you is as natural as breathing."

"You're not just a chapter in my life; you're the whole story."

Pile 3

"Your love is a garden, my heart the willing seed."

"In your eyes, I find constellations of dreams."

"Love is the ink, and you are the poetry written on the pages of my soul."

"Your love is the lighthouse that guides my ship through life's turbulent sea."

"In your embrace, I've found the warmth of a thousand suns."

"We are two souls entwined in the delicate dance of love's eternal waltz."

"You are the whispered secret of my heart, the answer to all its questions."

"Every word you speak is a verse in the sonnet of our love."

"In your smile, I see the reflection of a thousand beautiful tomorrows."

"With each sunrise, my love for you blooms like a radiant flower."

"Our love story is written in the stars, a celestial epic of two souls bound by destiny."

"You are the moonlight that guides me through my darkest nights."

"With you, every moment is a stanza in the epic poem of our love."

I made this a long time ago as you can see I don't dress my posts this way anymore lol.

Remember to Reblog lovelies 💗

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shotosjupiter · 3 months

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HEARTLESS LOVE (LET ME LOVE YOU.)

࣪𖤐 sypnosis... kunikuzushi is not accustomed to the feeling of love. how will he go about dealing with those feelings when you're always around?

࣪𖤐 note. i haven't wrote in forever so - there's that warning! i refer to scaramouche as kunikuzushi instead of scaramouche! 1.5k words.

࣪𖤐 tags. scaramouche x reader, slight angst (scara's feelings) but overall very fluffy and romantic!

KUNIKUZUSHI had never experienced this feeling before. He had, of course, experienced many emotions and feelings throughout the course of his long, half a century life but never this. Kunikuzushi has experienced the feeling of anger, rage, heartbreak, betrayal, and hurt above all. He was well-versed with these emotions, he had reveled in these emotions in another life. But this, this bruising feeling had nearly enraptured his very being.

He felt it within the cavity in his chest, the place where a heart should be beating, strongly. This yearning, this aching. It was akin to the desire of wanting a gnosis; to want wholly because perhaps then finally he would find his purpose, his meaning. And yet, it was deeper than that. Your existence meant more than that. You were more multifaceted than simply being the person of his desires. He knew that better than anyone that existence was no longer something that was whittled down to one trait. He knew, and yet.

Perhaps he was just feeling ill - yes, that was it. He was just under the weather, never mind the fact that his synthetic puppet body was not able to get sick (not to his knowledge at least). The warmth that circulated from his cheeks to his ears was simply a fever he had caught, even though he only ever experienced it when you would look at him with stars in your eyes. The anxiety he felt when he saw you becoming very close with someone else was simply just upturned nausea from food he had eaten earlier, yes. The chest palpitations he felt in his very void chest was perhaps just simply a by-factor of his body wearing down over the ages.

At least - that’s what he tried to tell himself. He wasn’t quite sure how long these… symptoms were ongoing for but he had only become aware of them - and their meaning - merely two weeks ago.

He prided himself on the fact that even if he was experiencing the weakness of feeling these symptoms, emotions, feelings, at least he was able to keep them confidential. You would never even see the difference in how he acted then and now.

…Right?

Kunikuzushi is repeating the mantra over and over that you haven’t the foggiest clue about his inner emotional turmoil when he bumps right into you.

There’s a low fluttering in his abdomen that feels vaguely as if he’s being tossed around upside down and around when he meets your glittering eyes. The smile you reward him with doesn’t seem to help his cause either - he swears the feeling of crystalflies in his stomach isn’t something that was a regular symptom before.

Add ‘about to throw up when in their vicinity’ to the list then, he grumbles internally.

He factors in the fact that you’re talking to him about something, but the words were lost in the rush of adrenaline and nerves that were rushing through his ears. You looked oh-so pretty while you talked, with your hands waving around to make your point all the more there but then -

“What do you think, Kunikuzushi ?”

He blinked. He hadn’t been paying attention to what you were saying in the least. It was in no disrespect to you, but he was a little… distracted to say the least.

“No.” That was a safe answer, right?

“You don’t want to go for lunch together?”

Apparently it was not a safe answer. He balked at your response and waved his hands around, trying to explain, “No. Well - yes. Yes, I do want to go but, I didn’t mean-”

He’s cut off by the sound of your laughter and he can’t help the smile that’s itching onto his face. Once you stop giggling, you nod to him and confirm when to meet him for lunch. You walk off afterwards, declaring that there was much work you had to do in order to have a stress-free lunch.

Kunikuzushi lets out a sigh of relief at your departure. Hands covering his face, he screws his eyes shut as he replays the encounter that just happened. He really needs to get his shit together.

His moments of embarrassment did not end there, much to Kunikuzushi’s dismay. At lunch, he had believed he was going strong. The restaurant was your choice, with a homey and warm environment with two bowls of hot soup ladened with noodles as your choices for lunch. He had just finished his bowl, setting down his chopsticks, when you had reached over from across the table and tucked strands of his hair behind his ear.

His chopsticks had dropped down onto the table in a clatter and his head snapped up at you, ears slowly developing into an ombre of red. But you seemed unbothered by it at all and had gone back to tucking into your noodles, as if you had done nothing at all.

A few days later, he was in the Akademiya library helping you find a book to help you further conduct your research. The library was his favorite place in the whole Akademiya - with its mosaic of stained glass on the roof letting in filtered colored light, the shelves upon shelves of old books, and most of all, sustained silence. Kunikuzushi reveled in the library.

He was just coming back to you with three books when you appear in front of him, in the narrow passageway between bookshelves. You slip past behind him, letting your hands touch around his waist in order to effectively move past him, muttering a kind “Excuse me,” as you walk past.

Yet again, he’s left feeling flustered, this time with the ghost of your hands still on his waist. He remains silent and quietly walks back to the desk which has a plethora of books sprawled all over. He scoffs at his nerves and dedicates himself back to the books in front of him. He was not so weak as to completely crumple from such a miniature gesture. His feelings were stronger than that, in fact.

(He yearned to feel the touch of your hands, once more.)

His last and final moment of embarrassment was late at night. The two of you were sprawled across the grass, near a small hill next to one of the Akademiya buildings. It was dark, past any time to be awake with the only noises outside being the sounds of crickets and your rhythmic breathings. The grass left a nice sensation across his bare hands and arms as Kunikuzushi counted the exhales you exuded.

The stars were bright that night. He could see the constellations of Andromeda and Cassiopeia, and was just about to point them out when you had turned towards him calling his name out softly.

“Hm?” He prompted.

“You’ve been different lately. Why?” You were always prompt and direct when it came to confrontation. However, he could tell from the way you were imploringly searching his eyes that this was something that had been bothering you for as long as it had bothered him.

He let out a sigh. He wasn’t quite sure how to go about this. He clutched blades of grass beneath his fingers, pulling them out of the ground. Avoiding your eyes, he started, “I am no god. I am no god, and it is evident from how I yearn for you so desperately. I want you. I feel for you, I feel for you romantically and-” He takes a deep breath, despite not needing one.

“I would like for you to give me a chance. To prove I have purpose, to prove I can make you feel happy. Let me love you.” He whispers the last sentence as if it was a thought that barely escaped his soul.

Kunikuzushi finally looks up to your eyes, this time his eyes doing the searching. Your hands reach out to cradle his face, and he can feel whatever synthetic heart he has within him soften. He reaches up to cover your hands with his when you whisper, “You are no god and yet I love you as if it is worship, Kunikuzushi. I will let you love me if only you allow me the same.”

He realizes he doesn’t know how to process this. Kunikuzushi never imagined that you felt what he felt. That you felt the intensity of this feeling. He felt the trail of something liquid going down his cheeks, tears, he realized, as he nodded vehemently. “Yes. Yes, I’ve never wanted something more.”

You leave a small kiss upon his forehead as he holds you close to his chest, hands trembling that he can touch you like this. He has never felt more bliss than in this moment.

#— writings.#if ur reading the tags hi ily #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #wanderer fluff #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x y/n #genshin x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #scaramouche x traveler

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littlebennettbitch · 2 years

Note

“i’m scared of losing you.” (from Jake)

meme: sad heartbreak starters status: accepting (from mutuals)

"Jake..." Bonnie trailed off, biting her lip and looking away. What reassurance could she give to that? When the truth was that she could not promise anything. Not when she had already given up her life, lost pieces of herself in the years since she had discovered the truth of the supernatural. Not when the fear sometimes gripped her that while she had escaped Mystic Falls, the effects of her untrained and desperate use of magic would catch up to her.

#v; i'll tell you the truth but never goodbye #verse: always be this close forever #answered #sad heartbreak starters meme #wildthiiing #rp: bonnie bennett #rp: jake 'hangman' seresin #ic post #para post

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archived-headlessmania · 2 years

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“Soo.. remember how I said you can practice magic on me? Turns out you literally can’t. Bonnie did a spell, and well, do you have time for the details?”

@shesdaylight / HANS & PUNZIE. 🎃

#shesdaylight #( closed starter ; hans crane )#( verse ; always and forever )

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bakuliwrites · 6 months

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Day One- Gale of Waterdeep

500 Follower Event, 30 Day Writing Prompts Prompt: Relic, Tender, Petrichor, Gale (BG3) Pairing: Gale x Reader Tags: Fluff, Kisses, Cuddling, Slightly Suggestive, Gale Route Spoilers, BG3 Spoilers Word Count: 741

Gale’s dark eyes sweep languidly across the page, no doubt committing to memory the poetic verses written within. You watch from the doorway, comfortably warm in the threshold between cozy library and chilly balcony, a mug of tea slowly cooling in your hands. It brings joy to your heart to see Gale this relaxed. He’s reclined in a loveseat, dressed in his usual soft sleeping clothes and donning a pair of new slippers. The book he’s absorbed in is tome-like in appearance: leather-bound, some sort of ancient relic etched in gold leaf on the cover, a hefty clasp hanging loosely on the edges. You smile to yourself as Gale cautiously turns an onion-skin page, brows furrowed in concentration as he scans the next verse.

With a small sigh, you lean against the doorframe, looking out to the churning sea beyond. There is something deeply nourishing about your days in Waterdeep. Perhaps it’s the way light rushes across the surface of the sea on clear days, sun glinting brilliantly in the sky, seagulls calling out to one another on the drifting ocean breeze. Maybe it’s the twinkling stars mirrored on the water at night, waves crashing gently to shore and the world silent as can be. It could be the hustle and bustle of the town around you, the familiar sounds of a peaceful life you’d almost forgotten in your adventuring days. Or perhaps it’s the unwavering gentility, the steadfast adoration of the wizard before you.

Gale catches you staring, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight at the sight of you.

“Care to join me?” his voice breaks through your silent musing, eyes softening when you meet his gaze, “Books are always better with company.”

“Of course,” you return, for how could you refuse such an invitation? You abandon your mug on the coffee table, shivering when a gust of wind brushes through the balcony. With it comes a pleasant whiff of petrichor and brine, a scent you’ll probably forever associate this tranquil afternoon with.

“Darling, you’re freezing,” Gale worries, shifting in his spot to give you room to lay next to him. The loveseat is hardly big enough for two, but all the more reason to cuddle, you think to yourself. And that was most certainly Gale’s plan, for as soon as you sit down, he draws you into his warm embrace. He’s quick to take one of your freezing hands in his, drawing it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. He warms it with his breath before sneaking in another kiss to your palm.

“Better?” he ventures, a gentle beam breaking through the gloomy grey of the afternoon.

“Much,” you softly chuckle, letting your forehead rest against his. This moment is suspended in time, the balcony suddenly a realm of its own. Beyond the soft sound of Gale’s exhales, you can hear a drizzle of rain pitter-pattering on the rooftop, droplets bouncing off the railing and landing in tiny ripples on the water’s surface below. Gale holds your hand to his chest, his other arm drawing you close. Beneath your fingertips is the velvety texture of his shirt, the gentle thrum of his heart. This is nourishment in its purest form: Gale Dekarios, his love silently enveloping you, body and soul.

You angle yourself to better reach his lips, pressing a tender kiss to them, lingering for a long while. Gale’s tongue softly traces the part in your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair. He moves to press tiny kiss after kiss against your cheeks, eyelids, and jawline.

“Hmmm,” you hum, when he dips to give some much needed attention to your neck, “You can keep reading if you’d like. I don’t want to interrupt you.”

Gale’s book is long abandoned somewhere on the loveseat. You suspect he might be sitting on it, far too engrossed in you to pay attention to the tome digging into his leg.

A small chuckle reverberates through Gale’s chest when you inadvertently gasp, his lips ghosting down to your collarbone.

“You’ve well and thoroughly distracted me, my darling,” he admits, “I’d much rather you be the subject of my studies this dreary afternoon.”

“Then you are easily distractible,” you return with an impish smirk. Gale quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Or is it that you and your irresistible charm are incredibly distracting?” he teasingly returns, laughing as he pulls you closer and lays his lips to yours once again.

A/N: I adore Gale. Honestly, I adore all of the companions in BG3. And many of the NPC's haha. I want to write more for him, so maybe a fic in the future? Time permitting, of course. Thank you for reading! Up next in this event will be Portia Devorak from The Arcana!

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 spoilers #gale spoilers #gale x tav #gale x reader #my writing #drabble #fluff #one shot #500 follower event #30 day challenge #slightly suggestive #life is better when you're snuggling with a wizard

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sapphim · 6 months

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Monstrous Wardens Masterpost

A great big collection of text from the Dragon Age games and novels about darkspawn, Grey Wardens, and the Calling, to fuel everyone's monstrous wardens headcanons.

This has actually been sitting in my drafts for like half a year now bc I thought I really should scrounge around for more quotes from Last Flight, Awakening, and Legacy. That... didn't happen, and there's really no sense in holding off longer. If I ever do get around to it, I'll pull more quotes to add. But I consider this complete as is. enjoy~

—

The Song

The Old Gods will call to you, From their ancient prisons they will sing. Dragons with wicked eyes and wicked hearts, On blacken'd wings does deceit take flight, The First of My children, lost to night.

—Canticle of Silence 3:6, Dissonant Verse

“The Old Gods beckon, as they always have.” The Architect turned and paced to the other side of the cell. The shadows cast on the walls by the glowstone danced ominously. “That is what you hear. To my people, it is a call that we cannot ignore. It whispers to our blood and compels us to seek the Old Gods out. We search and search for their prisons, and when we find one, we touch the face of perfection and thus desecrate it forever.”

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 6

So close. We nearly reached him. Made it down to what looked like a dwarven thaig where the song was actually audible, real and thrumming through the air, not just in our heads. It rattled through the lyrium pillars and shook the earth beneath our feet to its dreadful tempo.

—[DAI] Note: Ancient Warden Logbook

There were creatures in that land. Dark things that lurked in the corners. Cole couldn’t see them, and didn’t want to. He worried that they could see him, however. […] And worse, there was the music. He didn’t know what it was, but it seemed to come from far, far oﬀ. It called to him, but not in a pleasant way— it had an urgency that sped his heart and made his blood burn. The dark creatures, the lurkers, they listened to it. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he could feel them out there, craning their necks, raising taloned hands toward that call.

—Dragon Age: Asunder, chapter 9

As the griffon began to climb through the clouds that followed the Blight, Isseya heard a faint, strange melody seep into her mind. She had no sense of it as actual sound; rather, it seemed to come from within, almost as if she were humming the tune to herself. She could never have imagined such a song, though. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard. Aching and ethereal, it seemed to pull her toward a memory of nostalgic bliss that she had somehow lost—but that she would do anything to recover. Anything at all. […] “What was it?” the elf asked, shaken. […] “The Archdemon.” […] For the rest of their ride back to Antiva City, Isseya sat small and quiet on Blacktalon’s back, unable to reconcile the horrors of the darkspawn with the sweetness of their song.

—Dragon Age: Last Flight, chapter 3

The Chorus

The faint sounds of movement ahead got more frequent, and along with them, they began to hear a strange humming. It was deep and alien, a reverberating sound that they felt in their chests and that made their skin crawl. […] The deep humming was coming from [the creature. It] was moaning softly, almost chanting, and this moan built upon the sounds of many others behind it in the shadows. They hummed in unison, a hushed and deadly whisper the creatures spoke as one. […] All of them walked as calmly as the first, shambling toward them while moaning and hissing softly. The sound was loud now, reverberating around them like a physical force. […] They watched the darkspawn advance, their weapons held at the ready. Even with their prey cornered, the creatures did not accelerate. Their hum became louder, reached a hungry, fever pitch.

—Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne, chapter 14

Were they digging? He had the impression that the masses of them were all engaged in some sort of industry, all united in moving great portions of the rock out of the cavern and expanding it even further. Yet there were no sounds of tools crashing against stone, no hammering sounds or grunts of exertion. All he could hear was a rhythmic groan, a keening pitch that it seemed each of the darkspawn contributed to. The sound of it made his skin crawl, and he realized that the chorus in the distance responded to it. Like a cat that arched its back to meet a brushing hand it became ecstatic; it surged and almost overwhelmed his senses.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 6

The Senses

They were more than simply skilled at fighting darkspawn; they knew them intimately. They sensed their presence, sometimes even gleaned their intent.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 4

He could feel the darkspawn out there now. Genevieve was right. It just took some time to become acclimated. They were at the edge of his consciousness, lurking in the shadows far out of sight. It was that same feeling when someone was standing behind you, and you didn’t hear them or sense them in any way; you just knew.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 5

Bregan closed his eyes and carefully reached out with his senses. There were darkspawn all around him. Not in the same room, perhaps, but nearby. He could feel them tickling at the edge of his mind. As always, the sensation came with a feeling of foulness, as if a poison had seeped under his skin.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 2

“There is a taint that is within the darkspawn […] A darkness that pervades us, compels us, drives us to rail against the light. It is in our blood and corrupts the very world around us.” The creature gestured toward Bregan with a withered, taloned hand. “It is also within your blood. It is what makes you what you are, what you sense in us and we in you.”

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 2

Anders: Hmm. Hawke: What's wrong? Anders: I think [the Grey Wardens are] nearby. Anders: Or it could be darkspawn.

—Dragon Age II

The hunter had a sensitivity to the taint that went far beyond any tracking ability he might have learned during his time with the Ash Warriors. He was always the first to sense the approach of darkspawn, and he could discern between the various breeds by their scent alone. Some of the Grey Wardens even used to claim that Kell could do the same with them, sense who was who from afar just as if they were darkspawn. If so, the hunter never commented on it.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 11

She felt Bregan out there, felt him just the same as she felt the darkspawn. Every now and again she would turn a corner in the tunnels and would feel her brother’s presence on the edge of her senses, almost as if his scent had been carried to her somehow on an invisible wind.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 15

The Dreams

Alistair: Oh… and then there were the nightmares. Duncan said it was part of how we sense the darkspawn. We tap into their… well, I don't know what you'd call it. Their “group mind.” Alistair: And when we sleep, it's even worse. You learn to block it out after a while, but at first it's hard. It's supposed to be worse for those who Join during a Blight. How is it for you? Warden: Nightmares… yes, I know what you mean. Alistair: Some people never have much trouble, but that's rare. Others have trouble sleeping their entire life. They're just more sensitive, I suppose. Alistair: Everyone ends up the same, though. Once you reach a certain age, the real nightmares come. That's how a Grey Warden knows his time has come.

—Dragon Age: Origins

The dream, when it came, was similar to the hundreds of dreams Fiona had suffered since she’d become a Grey Warden. Before, however, it had always felt as if she was looking on the dream from afar, hazy and easy to forget. Now it was crystal clear. Fiona stood on a battlefield littered with dead men. All of them were soldiers in heavy armor, knights wearing the griffon standard of the order. Each had been brutally slaughtered. The smell of blood and decay hung thick and cloying in the air, the buzzing sound of flies nipping at her senses. Overhead, the sky filled with an endless, roiling black cloud. It looked like ink spreading slowly in water, a great stain that blotted out the horizon. She had been told about this. The first sign of the Blight, said the Grey Wardens, is found in the clouds. When the mighty dragon rises, its corruption touches the world and spreads. She was alone on that field of corpses. All alone. The wind picked up, a sickly breeze that carried with it the stench of carrion. A gloom fell upon her, and she stumbled as she watched something rise from out of the field of bodies nearby. It was enormous. A great, black thing that was as cold and terrible as anything she could have imagined. Fear pulsed through her. Her heart raced, and she looked away. She didn’t want to see it. She threw her hands up in front of her eyes not to see it. Yet still she felt it coming. Her foot caught between two corpses and made her fall back on top of them. Dead flesh pressed against her and still she covered her eyes. Still she felt the darkness surging ever closer to her. It was coming. And it was coming for her.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 14

The Calling

Hawke: You don't look well, Bethany. Are you injured? Bethany: Injured? I have the darkspawn taint forever in my veins, barely held in check by the Wardens' rituals. Bethany: I will never be well again.

—Dragon Age II

At first, it was just a whisper. A creak in the door hinge I could put off oiling. But soon, all I could hear was the music. It was there when I swung my staff and wiped the sweat from my brow. It lingered in Lyam's laughter and stalked my dreams. I can't explain the sound—the song—but I knew. It's a poison that grows in the mind, then consumes the body.

—[DAI: The Descent] Codex Entry: Warden Ailsa's Diary

It scratches at my thoughts, the music almost a voice, at once unearthly and beautiful. I found myself humming it aloud a few days past. Where once it intruded, it now feels a natural part of my mind's course. It coils around memories I hold dear—training with Ser Keller, riding in the moonlight, my mother's face the last time I saw her—and inserts itself into them, so that I could almost swear that music, that sense of a presence watching and calling, had always been a part of what I remember.

—[DAI] Codex Entry: Regarding the Calling

She had seen enough of the corruption to last a lifetime, and somewhere off in the far distance was that strange sound, the beautiful whispering. She didn’t want to listen to it, but couldn’t help herself. She closed her eyes and tried to pick out what the whisper was saying. Was it a song? Was it a name? It almost seemed that it was calling out to her, stroking her soul ever so softly. . . .

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 14

The humming sound, however, was stronger even than before. It was no longer something muted and distant; it was everywhere. It was behind the walls and under the floor; it filled the shadows and caressed his skin. There was a terrible beauty to it now, an awful yearning that pulsated within the sound, a tugging that pulled at the edge of his consciousness and yet frightened and nauseated him at the same time. The humming had eclipsed any sense he had of the darkspawn. Any attempt he made to reach out with his mind to sense where the creatures were found only a wall of beautiful sound instead. Like a weed, it had insinuated itself into his consciousness, blocking out anything useful.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 6

The far-off chorus had become a powerful symphony, a great swell of beautiful music that no longer pounded to get inside his head but instead tickled at the edges of his thoughts. It was far easier to ignore, but now he found it distracting. He found himself losing his train of thought whenever he listened.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 10

The taint fogged her thoughts a little more with each passing morning. Her diary, once a detailed chronicle of every day’s thoughts, went neglected for weeks, sometimes months. She was losing her mind. She wasn’t the only one, of course. It had gotten harder to tell the reality of the Blight from the horrors of her dreams. Sometimes she wasn’t sure which one she walked through, or which one she fought in. The elf had learned to recognize the confusion that sometimes passed over other senior Wardens’ faces. They, too, heard the Archdemon’s song echoing through their heads, a trifle louder every night. They, too, fought to block it out and to hide the signs from their comrades…

—Dragon Age: Last Flight, chapter 21

My body is breaking down. The fingernails were the first to go. I started to itch all over, and when I scratched, they peeled back. Clumps of hair fell away. Then clumps of flesh. I hear a song in my head. It's deafening. The most beautiful thing I've ever heard. But I don't hear it with my ears. It's in my brain. A blissful sound. This must be the call for which the darkspawn yearn, what causes them to dig so feverishly. I'd still rather die. Suppose that's something.

—[DAI] Codex Entry: To Be Corrupted

His skin itched terribly underneath those bandages, but he resisted the urge to peel them off. The pain throughout his body was dull but insistent, as if his body protested against this unfamiliar movement. The sluggishness made him wary. There was a thickness to his blood, a deliberateness to his heartbeat that made him feel like something alien was crawling inside of him and sapping his strength. […His arms] were half covered in dark blotches. At first, he wondered if that was some kind of injury, or perhaps a bloodstain. But then he noticed the texture of the skin within those discolored areas: rough and withered, just as darkspawn flesh was. […] Every part of his skin that wasn’t covered by the greyed cloth bandages was corrupted. It was like a network of black mold working its way across his entire body, and everywhere it touched he could feel a hot buzzing underneath the flesh. It was difficult to look at.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 6

The Architect stared into Utha’s eyes and nothing happened at first. Then black veins began to appear along her hand where the darkspawn touched her. They became darker and darker, the veins branching until her entire hand was criss-crossed with them. […] Her flesh withered and curled, the air filling with the foul stench of decay. […] The stain on her skin spread, crawling up her neck and covering her face. Her coppery hair began to grey, and then it became white. Her long braid twisted and curled behind her, like a match that was burning itself into a cinder. Her eyes shot open, blood red, and she opened her mouth in a soundless scream... and what wisps remained of her hair simply fell out. And then it was done.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 16

Bonus entry that made me go "hey what the fuck"

What I remember most is its tongue flapping against a row of spiky teeth. I'd heard emissaries possessed the ability to speak, but the words were unnatural. They twisted and lurched as they left the creature's mouth, accompanied with a spray of saliva. "Have you ever experienced living flesh ground between your teeth?" it asked Mila before biting through her throat.

—[DAI: The Descent] Codex Entry: Darkspawn Emissary

#dragon age #grey wardens #darkspawn #wardenposting #canonical texts

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sakkiichi · 8 months

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AUGUST.

Glimpses of the departed month go by as you reminisce by the sea.

ft. Kaedehara Kazuha x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, romance.

I honestly don’t know how to feel about this piece… definitely not my best work, but I wrote it, so I’m posting it. I hope someone still likes it.

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

Blue.

Said alone, the word might have had a tendency for melancholy, cold, turbulence.

However, if anyone were to ask you right now, you’d deny every negative connotation the color might have ever been related to.

Because to you, blue was dusks by the sea; moments right after the last coppery rays had hidden behind the expanse of an ocean you could only wish to unveil all secrets of.

And perhaps, you liked this moment of day because the infinity of blue before you mirrored the feelings in your heart at ease.

Feelings of unbridled affection, boundless love.

For him.

Fair hair falls over his shoulders, like silk weaved out of stars, its tips illusory rose with the fading daylight. His eyes are closed against the marine breeze, flecks of moondust clinging to his lids, casting enchanting shadows over his cheeks. His shirt has been discarded, droplets sliding down his bare torso, as if he had bathed in a pool of starlight. A black leather cord rests against his tempting collarbones, a vibrant scarlet maple leaf charm dangling tantalizingly over his chest.

A dreamy sigh escapes your lips, mingling with the sounds of foamy waves lapping at the white sand.

Kazuha.

He was always nothing short of ethereal, but something about him in the dimming light of a late summer’s nightfall, felt inherently magical.

“I’m going to miss this, Kazuha.” You finally say, resting your chin on your boyfriend’s shoulder.

He gently leaves a kiss to your forehead, his hand finding yours over the towel you’re sitting on. Scars jut like jagged rocks against which waves break, in the same way lightning snuffed out a life dear to him all that time ago.

And yet, the smile on his lips is almost palpable when he says:

“We’ll be able to come back, my dove.” His thumb runs soothing circles over the back of your hand. “Before we realize, summer will greet us again.”

You chuckle. Kazuha had such a poetic way of approaching things; even when the sun went pitch black, he would forever remain a beacon of hope to you.

“I know, I know…” You clarify. “It’s just… I wish I had more free time to spend with you like this during the year…”

As much as autumn brought found memories and your beloved’s birthday, September always had a tendency to leave you yearning for the long days of summer.

Echoes of August replayed behind your eyelids every time you closed them, reminiscent of stolen instances held in the brief minutes in which the sky was dyed in shades of neither day or night.

Those eyes that held the suns of a million dawns focus on you. Starlight from constellations that will sleep soon seem to frame them, those long lashes fluttering in tune with your heart.

“I know, my angel…” Your lover utters, as he delicately tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’d like to stay with you like this, for all eternity…” His stare of gentle embers takes you in.

His muse, his perfect love, his forever.

The samurai’s free hand reaches to cup your cheek, his touch, a dove’s first flight in its tenderness.

Beneath the darkening skies, you were the brightest star. Every lash, every pore and freckle, the everglow that fueled his verses.

“But we’ll always have the weekends,” He reassures, those fingers that penned the most romantic eulogies tracing your jawline, the column of your neck, your exposed collarbones.

Dilated pupils stare at his lips, images of kisses coated in ice cream and cocktails flashing through your dazed mind.

“And every summer after that.” The poet adds, noses mere millimeters away now, separated only by salt air and dying sunlight’s rust.

“Every summer.” You repeat.

Then, the magnetic force of both your desire-ridden lips reigns over, his kiss, an intoxicating collision.

Your hands lock behind Kazuha’s neck, pulling him closer. The droplets of sea water on him feel cool, flecks of stardust tattooing your skin in every place your bodies touch.

The wandering samurai’s lips are an expanding sunrise, and you, the tsunami that desperately reaches for his light-tinted heavens.

One of his hands sets on the soft sand, keeping him upright, while his scarred one tenderly cups your cheek. Your lean against him is soothing, healing, clear August skies, birdsong written in between retreating clouds.

Behind the undulating horizon, gold dyes silver.

Constellations begin to waltz far above, the lovers by the sea, their directing lyrics.

It’s a symphony about a season that will never die, its score inscribed in indelible blue ink in the heat of yours and Kazuha’s fervent kisses.

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