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#vicious headers
barrowedits · 6 months
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oi amg, poderia fazer layouts de vilão, mas sem psd por favor?
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maddiesflame · 2 years
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Victor Vale headers
like/reblog if saved © maddiesflame
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gibedumb · 2 years
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fav & reblogs if you use!
♡ sabrina carpenter emails i can’t send headers
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cherilynedits · 9 months
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sabrina carpenter header | feather & eics lyrics
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roxyvegs · 1 year
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ronanastor headers, royal elite.
like or rt if u save
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rosabie · 2 years
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Sabrina carpenter header/layout
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fastnights · 2 years
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vicious is out now
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stained-glass-cat · 2 years
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Under the cut is 6 "emails I cant send" themed headers each having the name of each track on the album. There will be a part 2.
They look like this:
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Part 1 - Part 2
Tagging: @flippinfins @thenotefromthelocket @kiss-thats-long-and-overdue
Hex: Red color is #912a0f and the biege color is #eedac3
Please reblog if you save <3
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manondaily · 2 years
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vicious headers!
like or reblog if you save
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hiloedits · 1 year
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— ronanteal headers
like or reblog if you use/save.
© hiloedits on twitter.
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lilbunnis · 6 months
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❛ ♡. header credit. ⎯⎯ 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲. ❜
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★ ⎯⎯ aemond targaryen has always wanted someone as his own; and with him already having claimed his vicious mount vhagar, the queen of dragons herself--- what is there to stop him from claiming you, too?
author’s note᛬ heey! 🍓 so……this is my second time posting this particular story--- however, it was a long time ago & someone anonymously requested to read it again. happily, i offered to repost it for them (with the exception that i re-edit it since my style of writing has changed / improved!) … anyways, reblogs & comments are deeply appreciated. ♡ + both aemond & reader are equally unhinged. <3 mwuah !
warnings᛬ mdni! smut, dubcon [kind of… but trust me, it’s wanted], dark!aemond, profanity, she/her pronouns, afab reader, innocence kink, corruption kink, coercion, manipulation, pussy whipped!aemond, breeding kink, cunnilingus, fingering, obsessive & possessive behavior, pet names, romance, fluff. any grammatical errors are my own--- in advance, i sincerely apologize.
word count᛬ 2.5k
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𝐎𝐇, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝒀𝑶𝑼, 𝐈’𝐃 𝐃𝐎 𝑨𝑵𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮.
aemond targaryen has always thought of her as his--- his to protect, his to care for, his to love; ever since he’d met her, he surrounded himself in her feminine presence, around her sweetness and innocence, keeping her close by and never letting her trail very far out of his sight.
unless, of course, it was absolutely necessary, and even then, he’d have one of his most trustworthy guards (loyal only to him) follow her around all day--- discreetly, of course.
however, during their short time apart, the one-eyed prince would be on constant edge; irritable and in a foul mood throughout the time that they were apart, not being able to trust anyone to truly protect his lady the way he knew he could.
oh, how he missed his dearly beloved so--- so much so, that the wayward prince was known for his brutal lashings and merciless beheadings (all a gift to his love) to all of those who merely breathed the wrong way in his proximity.
or simply, sweet gifts of pretty, sparkling sapphires and pearls.
still, he knew that she thought his temper and rage was charming, as she had once told him in that sweet, gentle little voice of hers, soothing his fiery temper as if she were the maiden reborn.
like his own little angel, so delicate, tender-hearted and mine, aemond thought.
sometimes, most of the time, aemond would just simply gaze at her, at her beauty, longingly; like she was the center of the universe and held all of the twinkling stars in the night sky.
most people wouldn’t dare to believe such a thing, but aemond thought it was cute when she learned something new in philosophy, excitedly wanting to share the new knowledge she’d learned from her septa with him--- even if he already knew, just to be able to listen to her sweet, angelic voice.
oh, and on those simple days, content to just listen to her babbling on about whichever subject she deemed of interest; he would lovingly hand feed her fresh strawberries, one by one; the ripest, juiciest and sweetest ones, listening as she breathily moaned in content as each one entered her pouty mouth.
meanwhile, as his little darling continued on about whichever subject interested her at the moment; the one-eyed prince watched in delight as the red juices dribbled down her chin, allowing him to quickly swoop in and kiss it delicately away, causing him to hum in content at the sweet taste.
whether it be from the strawberries themselves or the sweet taste of her skin, it mattered not to the prince--- because the next moment, he would drop to his knees and feast on her delicious, drooling cunt; burying himself right beneath her fluffy skirts as he heard her girlishly moan and whimper for him, as he continued enjoying the taste of her maidenhood.
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on lazy days, the prince will sit with her in his lap, one of his strong, lean arms wrapped snugly around her waist, most protectively; meanwhile, his free hand would slip beneath her fluffy skirts and play with her virgin, soaking cunt, teasingly stroking his long, calloused fingers through her wet, puffy folds.
seven above, and the sounds of her soft, breathy little moans, almost luring him to bend her right over the wooden table in the back of the library and rut into her like some wild, depraved beast, claiming her maidenhead as his.
‘twas almost too much to bear for the prince, knowing she was already his in body, mind, heart and soul.
he always imagined what she must taste like that day, right before he would feast on her cunny, almost to tease himself--- like freshly baked sweet tarts, spoonfuls of honey, strawberries…
late at night, while in the privacy of his own chambers, he’d furiously fuck his fist to the thought of burying his face between her smooth thighs once again, wanting nothing more than to taste and fuck her cunt with his tongue greedily; before he’d come so fucking hard in his hand, his seed coating the skin of his taut abdomen and dripping down his fingers--- sticky and messy and entirely spent.
sighing heavily, aemond would barely resist the temptation to exit his chambers and go straight to hers, knowing she’d welcome him with an open heart and open legs.
…fuck, what a waste of his seed, he thinks, for he could’ve pumped her empty womb full of his seed; fuck load after load inside of her, and come by morning, she would already be carrying his son in her belly.
rightfully so; she’s be so beautiful, so fragile, so obedient, a perfect little wife she’d be for him, indeed.
meanwhile, back in the library, aemond would continue teasing her little cunny, occasionally dipping the very tips of his fingertips into her little virgin fuck-hole, feeling how fucking tight she was for him, causing him to harden almost painfully inside of his leather breeches, right below her squirming, little ass.
like his very own wanton, silk street whore.
she continued to moan and whimper repeatedly; making him gently shush her with delicate kisses across her neck, spreading her dripping arousal all around her swollen bud, hearing her mewl his name like a prayer and grip the polished library table forcibly, watching her blissed-out face until she came all over his fingers.
when he made her come so hard with just playing with her little bundle of nerves, he had to slap a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries of pleasure and whisper sweet praises into her ear, knowing how sensitive and needy she was in his arms, just after coming down from her peak and making her come so hard on his fingers.
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of course, the more time he spent with her, the harder it was to resist her--- and so, most nights, when aemond could no longer resist being away from her; the need to see her being just too much for him to bear any longer, he’d eagerly seek her out, knowing she’d be in her chambers, awaiting his arrival.
just as eager and wanton as he was, it seemed.
smirking, aemond chuckled softly, embracing her; “my sweetest, my darling, my little love--- fuck, i have missed you.”
he couldn’t control himself anymore, he needed to see her, to be with her, to have her.
always.
specifically, in the late hours of the night, wanting to be as close to her as physically possible; fuck, he loved her so much, he didn’t ever want her to doubt his love for her--- he stripped them both of their evening clothes, his amethyst eye dilated and wild at the sight of her nude form.
during those private evenings, aemond had convinced her for him to claim her as his… fully, in the ways only a man could claim a woman.
with his persuasion, his silver tongue easily convinced her into saying yes; causing him to release a purr and claim her body multiple times that night, until she was a shaking, sobbing and sweaty mess beneath him, full of loads of his seed, while he held her tightly against him in his arms--- possessively.
uncaringly, the prince left all sorts of love marks all across her skin, kissing every inch of her soft, glistening skin that he could reach, suckling on her swollen, puffy nipples, knowing her plush breasts would soon grow heavy with milk for their many babes that’d come someday soon.
selfishly, just maybe; he could persuade his little darling for a taste for himself--- fucking hells, he couldn’t wait for her to grow round and fat with his sons!
insatiably, he would fuck his already hardening, leaking cock back inside of her sopping cunt, his and her own moans of pure love and ecstasy echoing off of the walls of her chambers.
however, even with all of the bliss and pleasure and love; still came her doubts and worries.
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his sweet lady, his precious love, his only girl--- was utterly terrified of someone finding out about their affair.
however, the fearsome, bloodthirsty dragon prince would always reassure her; whispering sweet words of his love and devotion into her ears, calming her by kissing her love-marked skin before he would fuck her squelching cunt once again with his cock, ploughing into her mercilessly, filling her with another load of his seed, until tears would stream down her blushy cheeks.
unable to stop herself, she’d let out the most feminine moans for him, not being able to control her sweet mewls from escaping her kiss-swollen lips, sobbing out deliriously as he continuously fucked her ruthlessly, uncaring of who heard them; for the one-eyed prince was too addicted to the taste of her and the pretty, precious sounds she made just for him.
it wouldn’t matter anyway, if anyone were to find out about their love affair--- aemond genuinely honestly couldn’t give a fuck if someone were to tell her lord father that her maidenhead was claimed by him anyone.
if anyone would dare to question his lady’s virtue or purity, he would cut out their tongues, before mercilessly killing them and feed their mutilated corpse to his mighty beast, vhagar.
aemond had always been a possessive man, especially when it concerned his sweet little lady, to the point that most of the noble lords and ladies of the court started to take notice; however, the fearsome prince paid them little attention--- nowadays, his only concern in life was his darling little bride.
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some days, when the weather was warm enough and the sun was shining brightly, aemond would take his lady on long walks around the red keep’s royal gardens, right after he finished his morning training session with ser criston.
as always, it was just the two of them, together; and while he watched her instead of admiring the pretty flowers that she seemed so smitten by, he couldn’t stop the tiny grin from spreading across his face at just the mere sight of her.
her, her, her.
his--- his lady, his woman, his wife.
there was a secret, hidden alcove surrounded by various cherry trees and gorgeous pink peonies, which aemond would often bring her to visit; it was almost as if it was their special spot.
then, without warning, aemond would gently press her back up against one of the trunks of the pretty, blossoming cherry trees, kissing her so sweetly, so passionately, so tenderly; it made her swoon and see constellations on the backs of her fluttering eyelids.
“marry me.”
suddenly, she felt as if her heart had suddenly stopped beating and she felt rather faint--- for a moment, her heart felt as if it had skipped several beats, because surely… her sweet aemond did not just ask the impossible of her?
again, aemond spoke.
“marry me,” he murmured against her soft, perfumed skin (that smelled of the lavender oils they’d previously bathed in that morning together) trailing open-mouthed kisses along her sensitive neck, causing a breathy whimper to escape her pretty, pouty lips.
instantly, aemond’s ears had perked up to the sound of her breathing that was quickening, his large hands roaming and grasping at her sides as if to soothe her sudden panic, enjoying the feeling of her womanly curves against his big hands, even through the silk fabric of her pretty, sapphire colored dress.
“hmm…no,” she drawled lazily, though her sweet voice was teasing, “—my father is suspicious enough already about all of the rumors going on about us…he doesn't ask, of course; i’m afraid it’s because he is too frightened of you,” she giggled softly, batting her long eyelashes up at the handsome prince.
aemond smirked, amused by his little darling.
“besides,” she continued softly, her usual sweetened voice saddened and aemond watched as his lady’s heart was visibly breaking right before his own eye, “—my father… he will arrange a betrothal for me soon and i must do my duty, as is expected of me,” she whispered, while gently twirling a few strands of her lover’s long silvery hair around one of her fingers, her face sullen--- like a little girl having her favorite treat taken away from her.
aemond hummed; a soft, dangerous sound as his face remained stoic, not displaying a single emotion that he was currently feeling--- his natural-born eye on the other hand…was a raging storm of a dark, angry violet, screaming promises of fire and blood.
“that'll never happen,” aemond murmured softly, his voice a raspy baritone, completely unbothered, “—if your father even dares to try and take you away from me, he'll suffer a most painful death; i assure you, my sweet lady.”
her heart fluttered, both of her cheeks heating up and her head began to feel fuzzy, a dreamy expression forming on her pretty face; though she wasn’t sure if it was from the warm weather or by his loving, murderous words.
“you're so sweet,” she cooed dreamily, smiling up at him as she wrapped both of her arms around his neck loosely, her fingers gently brushing through more of his long silvery hair, feeling how silky-smooth the strands were--- curtsey of the queen, his darling mother; a sweet gift of scented oils she had gotten for her favorite son all the way from pentos.
“only for you, my beloved,” the prince promised, tenderly brushing his knuckles along one of her rosy cheeks, bending down towards her shorter height and capturing her rouge-stained lips in a sweet, deeply passionate kiss--- a deep, throaty sound of lust escaping from him.
ah, she tastes of the sweetest of innocence and strawberries.
his favorite.
‘twas as if the prince could never get enough of her taste, of her.
sweetly, she releases a little whine, high-pitched and so needy for him; the sweetness of a poisonous kiss--- oh, how he wants to love her forever and bathe in all of the glorious love she had to offer him.
gods, he loved her… only, only, only her.
“my angel, so soft and pure, so innocent; and your precious heart… it is mine,” he growled, deepening the kiss against her lips--- his large, warm and calloused hands began trailing down to cup her sweet, little ass through her skirts, bundling the silky, sapphire colored fabric in his greedy hands to fondle and squeeze the soft flesh of her asscheeks; pinching and clutching possessively.
grinning wolfishly, aemond trailed his open-mouthed kisses down her delicate neck, suckling freshly new love marks into her fading, bruised skin--- all across her neck, jawline, collarbones and the very tops of her soft, perky breasts.
“marry me,” he asked once again, sounding impatient, though he wouldn’t mind begging, if it only meant claiming her for himself.
she wrapped her arms around his neck more snugly, standing on the tips of her toes to kiss him sweetly, all across his chin and the corners of his mouth, feeling his hands roam freely all over her once more before settling still, giving her backside a loving squeeze.
“be my wife,” he pleads once more, his tone of voice more desperate than ever before, sweet as sugar and the burning flesh of corpses.
she released a small sigh, moving closer just slightly so that she could brush her saliva-coated lips softly against his own, “yes,” she breathed lovingly, feeling as he visibly shuddered against her just from her mere acceptance of his begging proposal.
“i’ve always been yours.”
fin.
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vagabond-umlaut · 1 month
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hey, where is the pomegranate tree?
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unstoppable force, aka kore, aka gojo, meets immovable object, aka hades, aka you— nothing can ever go wrong from this collision, trust me— n-o-t-h-i-n-g.
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▸ gojo satoru x fem!reader; hades and persephone retelling [with a twist ;))]; 1.2k wc; stubbornly persuasive gojo; the reader is js so tired and annoyed [and tired]; enemies to lovers vibes[??]; talks of marriage and children; gojo thinks you are a fool, he is the real clown here
▸ pls don't glare at me if there is more than one inaccuracy here, haha. anyways, the header is from pinterest, the divider is by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️
▸ update: this fic is now part of a series!!! wreaths of asphodel 😊😊
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"you shall spend the rest of your days in tears."
you're foolish; woefully so, gojo thinks, carefully observing you from his place on the chaise lounge, smiling while you continue seething, "and there will be no one who can save you. neither a hero nor a god. neither demeter nor zeus. no. one."
"but why do you think i will need saving, my rose?" the endearment rolls off his tongue like honey, the taste sweetening at the way your pretty lips dip into a deeper frown, "you're not a monster, are you?"
"no!" the defensive reply comes in less than a beat. though the words following it sound a tad less bold; it seems as if you're trying to make yourself believe and not scare him.
"i'm someone far fiercer— hades. the goddess of the dead. the queen of the underworld— and the cause for your misery should you choose to vex me any further."
"aw, no," gojo cries, decidedly making a show by slapping a hand over his eyes and faking a sniffle, "why must the only woman i want as my wife see me as an annoyance?"
then lets his hand drop down to the cushion, willing his eyes to well over with pitiful moisture. "as the god of life, i've only ever given and given– be it grains or fruits or vegetables or flowers– without asking anything in return— yet the first and only time i ask..."
he doesn't bother finishing his sentence, choosing to sob to add to the tragic atmosphere— though that doesn't mean he doesn't note the war of emotions on your face:
pity, confusion, anger, again confusion— you're so easy to read, to steer. very foolish, really.
"you'll not like living here," you eventually break the silence hanging within the room. your voice is much softer now; the god wonders if you sing. if you do, the muses will certainly be put to shame... "your days will be spent in utter boredom and gloom and tears–"
"– and no one can come to my aid then: yes, thank you," he interrupts you, more than a little tired, "you've driven the points too well into my head– so much so that i'm surprised there isn't a gaping hole in there, oozing blood and my brains. but why must you think i'll need rescue, huh??"
if a smidge of force escapes into his words, gojo decides not to pay it any mind— though only until he notices the small flinch you give– his insides twist and torment, quite inexplicably, thereafter.
"okay, look," he says, getting up from his slouch to move near you, but stops on catching the warning glint in your eyes.
"first of all, i'm not some damsel in distress being whisked away in a chariot here– i came here by own volition. and i'm offering my mind, body, heart, soul– the special package that i am, in fewer words– to you, by my own volition. why shall i want anyone to rescue me then?"
"besides," he proceeds to add, allowing an easy smirk to form on his face, "you're just the cute little goddess of the dead– not at all scary like your brother used to be; though i guess you try to imitate him in your glares, don't you? sukuna was quite notori—"
"don't you dare utter my brother's name, foul olympian," a quiet growl slashes gojo's comment, sending it plummetting to the ground— and making him understand why you, the inconspicuous, sheltered sister of the vicious former holder of the name 'hades', was given the crown, in the aftermath of your brother's banishment– instead of the several more well-known candidates...
"i apologise," gojo offers in the very next instant, making it as genuine as he can, "i never meant to upset or offend you. i'm sorry if i did."
you just stare at him for a beat, gojo watches, before your shoulders lift then fall in a sigh. the fire burning in your aura abates by a pinch.
sighing once more, you finally break your silence, "It's okay, and um– suppose i too should apologise. you might be an olympian but you're not as foul as them, no. please forgive me for calling you so."
"no problem, my rose," the god is quick to accept your words with a wave of his hand and a beam, further widening when he notices the sliver of smile on your countenance, "but does this mean i appeal to your tastes? i mean, you called me 'not as foul as them', didn't you?? did you just accept my hand in marriage, then???"
"no, i didn't..." your subtle smile disappears swifter than it appeared. a half of gojo's floral crown, quite inexplicably, wilts on the table before. he watches your eyes fall to it, then snap up to meet his.
"do you love me?"
not yet, but he thinks he can. you might be an idiot but you certainly aren't an unlovable idiot— and one voice in his mind murmurs, those precious, innocent looks of yours aren't even the main reasons why...
the god shoots back a languid smile. "if you want to see me in love with you, so be it."
"that's neither 'yes' nor 'no'," you point out, frowning, before vaulting your second query of the evening, "if we get married, do you want to have children?"
it won't be very unfavourable, if you both do... with the vivid colour of your eyes, or the adorable shape of your nose, or the radiance of your skin, or the— "if you want, i shall be happy to assist," he ekes out with a meaningful wink, albeit he doubts how much of it reaches you.
you're very foolish, after all... and no– it's not because of the awkward way he says it– no! not in the slightest! he wasn't fumbling at all!
you wrap the shawl tighter around your shoulders but don't move any further away, gojo notes. the same way he does the slight tint in your cheeks when you roll your eyes with a scoff.
"you're unbelievable, kore. truly, terribly unbelievable." you press the pads of your thumbs over your forehead before releasing it, gaze an unprecedented mark of sharp when it settles on his face.
"is there nothing you want from our union, eh? i refuse to believe you wish to marry me without any demands, as if on a mere whim– but if it is so, i ought to warn you, kore: my answer is and will always be one firm 'no'."
your words mustn't ignite this odd restlessness in him. they certainly mustn't— still, gojo finds his chest tight and the air heavy as he grins back and says, "i only want to be your husband, your majesty... but if that is too much for you right now–"
the stretch on his lips simmers down to something smaller. yet truer.
"i want you to call me by my name. my real name. can you do that, my rose?"
you don't say anything in response for a long while. so long, in fact, it makes the god wonder if you are ever going to reply to his request.
perhaps not, he thinks quite a bit down-spirited when you suddenly turn on your heel and with a swish of your long shawl, stride out the rooms– o-oh.
you stop just as abruptly at the threshold. a complicated grin shining on your face as you twist to look at him over your shoulder then say:
"good night, gojo satoru. pray the ghosts prowling these halls don't eat you up ere dawn."
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you're gone not even few feet away from the door, before gojo falls face-first into the bed, the entire room suddenly erupting into thousands of roses in all colors ever seen. [lolol, he is such a loser for you! xD]
▸ masterlist
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astarioffsimpmain · 2 months
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Unsolicited Affections (Part 1)
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[Screenshots and Tav, Ban, by the lovely @brabblesblog]
Halsin x Plus Size F!Reader
Warnings: Body insecurity; internalized fatphobia; otherwise, floof (for now)
Synopsis: Your growing feelings for Halsin can no longer be ignored. Even so, that doesn't mean you don't try for your poor heart's sake. However, Halsin keeps bringing you closer, and you aren't sure how much longer you can take it without confessing... even though confessing is your worst fear.
Author's Note: Thank you so much to @brabblesblog for taking these screenshots and allowing me to use Ban in the header! For all readers, there will be a Part 2 to this fic and it will be the smut you all requested from the poll I took! This became a super duper indulgent fic for me, as I struggle with all of the insecurities the reader struggles with here. But I hope this little 2 part creation can act as a balm for anyone who has ever struggled with their bodily image, or wondered if they'd ever be seen as beautiful. This one's for you; for us. <3
Part 2 Here
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The battle had been bloody. Grime and viscera was spread across each body, hair color lost in deep dyes of red in the wake of the victory. You and your companions trudged back to camp in silence; exhausted. You had failed to obtain what the battle had been fought for in the first place, and you were certain that your mood was soured for the rest of the evening. Upon reentering your campground, Gale was the first to greet you all, thankful to see that everyone was alive, albeit roughed up; obvious disappointment creased his features for a moment when you told him the news that you had failed to obtain the magical object you had set out for, but he hid it behind an understanding smile and ushered you to sit by the fire as he finished dinner. 
You had reasoned that if the Netherese Orb in Gale's chest required the consumption of magic to remain stable, that the more powerful the object, the longer it would sate him. So you had taken a group and set out for the most powerful magical object in your direct vicinity - the Circlet of Blasting. You had recognized it the day previous on the head of a Drow with several of its companions near the Myconid colony in the Underdark. Once you found them again, you approached to inquire whether you could cough up enough gold to take it off their hands, but when they turned and pierced you with vicious red eyes that gleamed back at your group with a reflectiveness like a cat's, you knew gold would not satisfy them. And as they drew their daggers, you were proven correct, and the battle had begun.
You slumped over on the log next to the fire, too exhausted to properly stow your weight, as you removed your armor piece by piece. The second person to approach you carried a warm bowl of stew and placed it gently into your palms. The hands were tender and gentle, and much too large to belong to anyone but your favorite Archdruid. You raised your weary head to meet his beautiful bright green eyes, creased with worry, but soft with care as he lowered himself to the ground beside your legs, his muscular arm grazing the now-bare skin of your thigh as he adjusted. A flutter ran through your stomach at the contact, but you clamped down on it before you could get carried away. You knew his kindness was platonic. It had to be. Halsin was simply…kind. 
The tell-tale signs of complicated and painful feelings had risen within your chest since rescuing Halsin from the goblins, and although you had tried to deny them, recently it had proven impossible. But while you finally admitted to yourself that you had fallen for his disarming smile, the scratch of his well-worn fingertips against your softer skin, and how passionately he cared about every living creature in nature, you refused to admit it to anyone else. You would be sparing yourself that embarrassment this time around. Your chest ached, remembering the many times you'd fallen for someone and approached them with this truth, only to be turned away over and over again. Inwardly, you snarled, blaming the extra plush your body carried for your lack of luck in love. Whether the objects of your affection had been kind, polite, or downright rude, there was always a moment in which their eyes would quickly rake your body up and down before delivering their blow. Perhaps they didn't even recognize that they did it, but you saw. You always saw. 
So, while you knew Halsin would never be unkind to you, you had been trying to make peace with the very probable fact that he would only ever see you as a friend - never quite attractive enough to be anything more. It was something you were used to, but it never seemed to dull the throbbing pain in your heart whenever you thought on it too long. There was a part of you, somewhere deep, that knew you were not at fault; that knew you were not to blame; that perhaps if they had deigned to look beyond the surface for even a moment, that they would have seen how genuine your heart was, and how they never would have had to go without affection, love, or loyalty should they have chosen you. You weren't without this enlightenment, but the constant dissatisfaction of, or concern for, the body you carried from those around you - from well-meaning friends to pushy strangers - weighed heavy on your tired mind. 
This moment around the fire was no exception, your burning desire to curl around Halsin's broad shoulders like a cat and purr was strong, but overshadowed by the fear of rejection. You had him near, but pulling him too close was to risk sending him far away, and you weren't sure you'd be able to stand it were that to occur. An icy shudder ran through you at the mere thought of Halsin retracting his warmth from your side. "- giving you a chill?" His dulcet voice pulled you back to reality like a line reeling you in, but you caught only his last few words. 
"What?" You said, blinking as his image in your eyes grew sharper again. "Apologies, my mind was far away." 
"No worries." He chuckled. "I merely asked if the night air was giving you a chill. You were shaking, my heart." 
My heart. 
You melted a little. The nickname was fairly new. The first time he had called you that had been two mornings prior, after a late start and a quick bath in the bioluminescent pools near your campsite in the Underdark. You had come trudging back to camp in clothes that were quickly dampening due to being pressed against your still wet skin, wringing your hair out ferociously as you tried to hurry to catch up with everyone else's progress. You had just started to wrench your boots up over your clinging pants when Halsin had approached you, laying a warm hand against your wet-stained shirt. You had startled, your head snapping up to his in a surprised daze. 
"Slow down." He had said, running a soothing hand down your bent spine and back up, sending full bodied shocks through you like tidal waves. "You needn't worry, my heart. We will wait for you." 
As the memory warmed your cheeks, you cleared your throat and averted your eyes, praying he couldn't see the thoughts lingering just inside the colors of your irises. "No, I'm alright. Just- just a bit weak from not eating all day. Thank you, for bringing me this." You finally acknowledged the bowl in your hands and raised it a little. 
"Of course. Please, eat. I hear from the others that you had a rough skirmish. I implore you to let me check you over once you've finished your stew." 
Ignoring the way your heart jumped dangerously near to your throat, you nodded silently, opting instead to pick up the wooden spoon in the bowl and begin to eat. It was one of Halsin's spoons; one he whittled. It was smooth and beautiful and easy to hold. Almost all of the cutlery in camp had been fashioned by Halsin, and several of the stools you kept as well. It was his hobby and his form of relief, to create things with his hands. Subconsciously, you glanced down to where the hands in question rested on his knees; large and rough, his hands had seen it all and done it all through his 300 plus years of life, and you couldn't help but quietly admire how much they had learned and lost in the process. And after all of that, he chose to create beauty with those hands that knew so much. It made your heart clench with a new wave of affection. You swallowed hard, as if the feelings would force their way back down in the same way as the contents of your bowl. 
Again, you were drawn back from your reverie by the Druid's movements, one of his hands moving from his lap to yours. His palm came down to rest flat on your thigh, only a thin layer of fabric left to separate the blazing heat from your skin. You barely suppressed a gasp of surprise at the sudden contact, feeling much more intimate than it probably was, and locked eyes with Halsin, whose brow was worried into wrinkles. "You seem more distant than usual, are you sure you're alright?" He said, his thumb taking a slow drag across your leg, sending your poor heart racing in your chest. 
"Yes," you managed to respond, rather breathlessly. "I- I'm alright." Even you weren't convinced by your attempt at deflection, and Halsin's frown only deepened. 
"When you've finished your stew, come find me by my tent. I will have some healing herbs waiting for you." He said sternly and you nodded silently. His eyes softened at your wide-eyed expression and he reached up to gingerly tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "Promise me you will come." He murmured quietly, his eyes never leaving yours, and your heart stuttered wildly in your chest. 
"I promise." You replied, and a soft smile graced his lips. He nodded in return and stood up, brushing himself off before walking back towards his tent. 
"Gods," you muttered under your breath, pressing your palm to your chest in an effort to keep your pounding heart inside. 
"You've been given the perfect opportunity, darling." A voice chimed lyrically behind you, and you turned your head to find Astarion eyeing you appreciatively. "Don't waste it." He grinned widely, putting his fangs on display as he did so. 
"Shut up, Astarion." You mumbled, your face heating as you pressed your hands over your eyes. You only hoped you wouldn't make a fool of yourself. 
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fin
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gibedumb · 2 years
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❀ fav or reblog if you used them! ❀
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z3rinn · 6 months
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# #. BATHTUB MERMAID.
in which your daily walks on the beach have been becoming more eventful as time passes. But after finding a certain scale, you feel as if you’re being watched at every turn.
this was a little unedited idea I came up with for halloween!! I wrote that Azul has scales when octopi dont- so uh-. slight yandere content up ahead !! hope you guys enjoy !! also- new header !! wdyt??
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❝ rise and fall silver moon ❞
You never believed in mythical creatures.
The beach had become a safe spot for you throughout the years. It was still and serene; a place where life's problems sunk into the deep ocean before you.
The ocean had always been mysterious. It was a deep and spacious space, the beginning of life so to say. It held a sense of tranquility, yet alongside that, unpredictability.
The Sea held emotions. It could be violent and vicious, yet benevolent and peaceful. Perhaps this is what led to your fascination with the sea and its inhabitants. It's creatures.
The ocean reflected beauty, showing the world its colors and scales, it was a place creatures could thrive. However the deeper you go, the more terrifying it gets, showing what could be awaiting you in the unknown. 
The human imagination was vast, and could come up with many creatures and ideas. There were vampires and werewolves, Cryptids and Ghosts- all fantastical tales made up by the imagination.
The Sea had its own creatures as well, mermaids, yet similarly known as sirens. They were fantastical stories, usually depicted by sailors and legends. They were beings similar to humans, well, only half of them that is.
They were only half man, with long beautiful tails from the waist down. They were akin to fish, luring others with their songs and beauty. Their majestic colours aiding them.
A fishermens tale, as they say. You didnt believe in the stories, no matter how scary they could get. Scientifically it couldn’t be proven.
However, these legends didnt deter you from the ocean.
Now, on a dark night like this, where the silver moon lit up the sky, there shouldn't have been anything to worry about. It was an ideal night, peaceful and soothing.
The wind breezed across your face, brushing against skin and cloth. It was a chilly night, the cold ocean and air made a combination that was welcomed.
You walked slowly across the shore line, feeling the sand between your toes. It was soft and rocky, a texture you had frown accustomed to. The sand had significantly cooled compared to the burning heat from the morning, it felt nice against your skin.
You glanced behind you, seeing how far away you traveled from the lifeguard. You couldn't help but take notice of the tide that erased your footsteps.
It was if the world was erasing you.
Well, you wouldve thought that if it were for the black scale that washed up on shore.
And wow was it pretty.
You gently picked the scale up, rubbing off any remaining sand in the way.
You gaped in awe, cradling it in your hands. No way this could be real. Not with how beautiful it was.
The scale reminded you of an obsidian stone. Smooth and soft to the touch. It oddly resembled hard candy in your opinion.
You turned it over, noting that it was also very shiny. It looked like holographic sparkles with the way they shone against the moons silver light. Shifting it back and forth you could see bits of purple and blue reflecting in the moonlight.
It seriously looked like a jewel. Perfectly crafted and precise.
Hm.
You pocketed the scale. Continuing on with your walk. It's not like anyone would miss it right? In the end it was just another scale. No one would miss it.
You had keep reminding yourself of that. As the feeling of someone watching you became more apparent.
❝ mirror covered in chalky steam ❞
Showers weren't uncommon to take when coming home from the beach. In fact they were usually welcomed and desired.
Although going to the beach almost everyday you still couldn't get used to the feeling of sand everywhere.
It was so uncomfortable.
The need to get the grimy sand off was strong. And the urge to just pour clean water all over you was overwhelming. You just had to clean yourself of this dirt.
A light sigh escaped your lips as you stepped into the bathroom, ridding yourself of your clothes while turning the water on. Luckily this time you didn't go for a swim, so just a quick rinse would suffice.
But alas with some more thought you decided, sometimes a long bath was nice once in a while.
Grabbing your phone, you put a playlist on. The one you specifically made for your long walks on the beach. It could still work good enough, right?
A smile formed on your face as you stepped into the bathtub, hot water enveloping your body. It was a nice contrast against the beaches cold air.
You sunk deeper into the tub, unknowingly letting sleep sink its claws deep into you.
The last thing you saw was an array of sharp teeth above you, a soft, yet comforting voice lulling out a song. A pair of gold and grey eyes hypnotizing you, a spell to put you at ease. To sleep.
However, you were too far gone. And while your heart lept with adrenaline and fear, the drowsy feeling wasn't going away. No matter how much you screamed at yourself to get up you couldn’t. You could only feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the water around you.
And you could've sworn you felt a hand cover your eyes.
Slimy and webbed.
❝ touch me, touch me, kiss me to sleep ❞
It was another day at the beach. Another day where the cool air brushed across you, consuming your being whole. It was a quiet day- or was one.
You glanced over at the sea from your spot under the bright blue parasol, contrasting the dark sky. Waves crashed, yelling ensued. All fun and games it seemed.
Being at the beach usually meant a time just for yourself. However this time you accompanied by your brother- and his oddly annoying friends.
Usually on days like this you relaxed, watching them play with a volleyball like they were in the big leagues. You'd only ever get up when someone hit the ball too far off- being ever so kind to help them out.
Just as you were doing now.
A groan left your lips as you stood up, watching the beach ball drift further away from you. It'd be a run to get it.
Your feet patterned against the sand, moving into a slight jog to catch up with the ball. However, every time you begun to creep closer to the ball it drifted away. It was weird.
It want long before you caught up to the ball, the wind blowing through your hair as you observed your surroundings. You'd stopped in front of the monstro cave.
The monstro cave, a place where many had gone 'missing'. Apparently a place so deep that many generations got lost in its caverns.
You'd never believe these legends of course, there was absolutely no reason to. If the cave was so dangerous, why hadnt it been blocked off yet? And with modern technology it wasn't hard to get help if ever lost.
However, it wasn't hard to get frightened by the cave. The legends and vibe of the corridor could easily freak someone out.
Almost everyone was scared of the cave at some point.
You glanced up into the cavern, noting the cold air that poured from it. Before stopping in your tracks.
And your heart sank.
A yellow eye stared up at you from the darkness. A singlular eye. Staring. Watching.
It was wide, and almost downturned, glowing in the darkness as it just watched. It gazed deeply into your form, never breaking contact with your eyes.
You could hear the ocean water crashing behind you, almost as if it was angry.
Your body screamed at you to move, your heart pounding in your chest. But you were frozen still.
The eye squinted, scrutinizing your form. A gut feeling hung over you, whoever it was took pleasure in your horror.
You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move---
You slowly stepped back. A shaky sigh left your lips, the sense of fear washing over you, tenfold. Perhaps it was time to go.
Yes, you never believed in mythical creatures. But it was hard to forget all these encounters.
❝ im a bathtub mermaid ❞
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roxyvegs · 1 year
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headers ronanteal
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