#|| some want her to bloom - some want to stop her at all costs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captainleviswifee · 5 months

Text

If you dare...

Tags/TW/context (idk💀): Alcohol, sfw, y/n fem reader, reader is a squad leader, Attack on Titan, Levi Ackerman, lighthearted, established close friendship and partnership between you and Levi, you and Levi are in denial of your feelings for each other and Hange knows it, Hange is just lowkey tired of this back and forth.

Edit: you can use extensions, or apps to replace y/n with the name of your choice.

The night is blooming, the moon's graceful glow upon you and your comrades in the clearing of the Old Headquarters of the Survey Corps. The tall trees, both vivacious trees and pine trees standing tall around your merry group, providing shelter from the fog of the evening. Not too far from the headquarters, but also not too near in the vicinity to avoid disrupting the working higher-ups, or the resting scouts in their in the assigned shared quarters of their barracks. Regardless, even without the protection of the trees, the fog won't be stopping this small gathering of you and your comrades. An survey mission had just ended. It's a small mission led by you, in order to train you. Nothing too exciting just this small group of scouts surveying ahead, and placing supplies ahead of the expedition route that's due in next week. Although the mission is a success with the least amount of deaths so far, it wasn't without sacrifices. You sit relaxed with a drink of your own on one of the chairs. Beside you are your comrades, your subordinates, the Levi Squad in some of the chairs and benches, and then Hange accompanied by Moblit who sat beside her. All forming a complete circle with a table of food in the middle of the circle then a burning bonfire right beside it. Keeping this small gathering of people warm from the evening fog. In some of these seats are soldiers, scouts who fought bravely. At the cost of a missing leg, or an arm, or maybe even missing screws after facing the dark reality that the titans bring outside the Walls this very recent expedition. Yet despite, what they have experienced, they sit there merry with a drink on their uninjured free hands. Largely due to the part that Hange, Oruo, Gunther, and Eld are leading the conversation of this humble party.

A farewell party to be exact. The last night of these maimed soldiers in the military before they return to their status as simple civilians. In a way, Commander Erwin allowed this to happen just so the soldiers would go home with at least smiles on their faces. Smile of relief from surviving, or the smile from this small gathering and the events would occur later are sure bound to kick up a merry chat between their waiting families instead of the horrors outside walls as their main topic.

"Ah, it's your turn!" The bottle spins and points at you. "What?" And you break out from your deepest of thoughts, maybe because of the battle analysis reports, survey reports, and whole another bunch of papers you'll submit tomorrow, or maybe because of the watchful gaze a certain pair of steel blue gray eyes.

"Everyone's been pulling up 'Truths' this whole time, would you care for a dare instead?" Hange smiles cheeky at you, as she asks you at gunpoint in front of your comrades. "A dare?" Your question sounding more like a refusal. "C'mon please? It's nothing hard I swear. It'll be just like how easy you killed four titans this recent mission, right boys?" And your comrades and subordinates alike jeered at the thought. You were quite in a good form, the past mission and now that you're in this spot like this. With their mood like that, you don't want these soldier's last night to be with you being a killjoy of the night. You gave Hange a look before responding, "Alright what's the dare?" "Sweet! Well it's nothing hard, I just want you to kiss someone." Hange playfully answers giving a certain midget sipping tea at the edge of the circle, a knowing look. Fully aware of Levi's gazes at you. Or how he would sparingly brew the tealeaves you gifted him. Or how he would scold you as he checks up on you at the hospital after each mission, Hange gave a knowing look at Levi barely noticed by their comrades. The latter only returned a glare, barely noticeable in between sips of his tea. "The what? Hange, you can't be serious." You respond. You may be a little tipsy, but you still have your wits about you. "It'll be fine, unless..." Hange trails off, "Unless it means something to you of course. Were you saving it for someone?" She quips, her tone now growing teasingly playful. It didn't help that the rest of the Levi Squad, your subordinates, basically everyone's got their eyes and ears on you now. Giving in to either get peer pressured to saying something akin to confession—

'It wont be a confession,' You stubbornly think.

Well it's either you get peer pressured into saying something you may or may not regret, you decide to just go with the dare. At least in a dare there's a chance that the very act will be considered, 'not of any significant meaning to you.'

"Alright, I'll complete the dare. You guys owe me a drink for this one." You say with a smile pointing to the rest of the crowd, primarily to Hange. You scan your surroundings to look for a specific person who you know wouldn't take this dare personally or seriously. He may be a few centimeters smaller than you, but it did not take you long enough to find him sitting at the edge of the circle. Drinking tea instead of alcohol, he looks at you his blue-gray eyes displaying deadpan expression. "Is it okay if I pick you?" You ask for consent walking up to him with his side facing you. Casual form drinking tea amidst the tensing sensual atmosphere fueled by the expectant gazes of your comrades. His jaw clenches for a split second before nodding nonchalantly. His steel blue gaze, maintaining his composure. Bringing his cup a little lower from his lips, he remained sitting as he was. His side still facing you.

"Alright," You give a smile before placing one of your knee to his seat for support, you other hand crawling up behind him, to gain purchase of the seat he is leaning on to. And your other free hand cupping his chin, lightly with your fingers as you lean your face closer to his steel blue gaze.

In response, his body stiffens evidently caught off guard by this sudden act of intimacy. He fought back the shivers that run along his spine and his jaw subtly clenches as maintained his indifferent expression.

You lean in closer, and closer. Intensifying the already sensual tension caused by her own intimate actions.

Only to give him a light kiss on his cheek.

'They only said a kiss after all, they didn't say where.' You cleverly think, avoiding making a spectacle of yourself and drag Levi in this.

Disappointed murmurs hint the chorus of their comrades and Hange nodding with a light chuckle in amusement, "Ha! Well played, y/n." Spinning the bottle once more, "Next dare!"

When you pulled away and returned to your seat downing a glass in one big gulp, Levi didn't look at you or anyone at that moment. He just sat there with the memory of your lips, warm on his skin.

He sat there drinking his tea in silence. He wasn't drinking any alcohol at all.

And yet,

Why are his ears red?

136 notes · View notes

rosieofcorona · 4 months

Text

In the Blue Morning

Sharing this gentle little fic here again since the Solavellan girlies (genderless) are so back!!! In my mind I am sliding this across the table to you all. Also on Ao3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading! 💕

She cajoles him, some mornings, away from his office, from his maps and his books and his paintings and out among the newly-planted gardens, all their tight, unfurling blooms.

It’s always empty at this hour, when most of Skyhold is still asleep, save for the guards in their high towers, the recruits in the practice yard. The only sound is the clang of their swords through the mist like distant bells, the only light the pink and gold of the nascent sun.

They have been careful, desperately careful not to draw undue attention, not to generate rumors that could harm the Inquisition in the future. It is easier on the road to find a quiet moment alone– to steal a kiss or hold a hand or put words to their love– but the castle, however safe, is full of eyes, forever watching.

It is only in the narrow, muted hours before dawn that Solas weaves his fingers with hers as they orbit the courtyard, side by side.

He names the blossoms as they pass, first in the trade tongue and then in Elvish, the softened syllables like music on his tongue. She repeats them half as gracefully, but he smiles at every attempt, correcting her gently now and again, praising her efforts.

“Gail’lealis,” he says, pointing out an elegant bellflower, its blue-white petals bundled tightly in green sepals.

It sounds off, even to her ear, when she says, “ Ga’lealis,” back.

They pause for a moment, and Solas turns and bends and plucks an early bloom from the same plant, rotating it slowly between his fingers, holding it up for examination.

“Ga-il,” he repeats softly, separating the sounds. “Meaning ‘bell,’ in the common parlance.”

“Ga-il,” she says again, correctly this time.

“Followed by lealis , meaning ‘glass.’”

“Gail’lealis.”

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, tucking the flower behind her ear, the meaning vague yet all-encompassing. It is all beautiful– the morning, the garden, how she catches the light, his ancient language in her mouth, her mouth–

Solas kisses her in the empty courtyard, parts her lips with a linguist’s tongue, and she kisses him back again and again as if each time might be the last. He wants to stay like this forever, wants the sun to forget to rise, wants the castle to sleep and sleep in an endless dream.

But the light keeps coming, every moment. The castle will wake, and they will see.

And this will cost them, in the end.

She is pink as the sky when they finally come apart, and continue their long walk around.

“I hear you were out here yesterday,” she says, breaking the silence as they turn a corner. “Cullen says you beat him soundly at chess.”

“It was a closer game than he thinks,” Solas says, but she has learned when he’s just being modest.

“Must not have been that close, because Bull says the same. As do Blackwall, and Varric, and Dorian, though he swears that you cheated.” “I did no such thing!”

When they turn again, the chessboard in question comes into full view, set and waiting on its table beneath an awning.

“He seemed very certain,” she shrugs. “Though I suppose I could find out for myself.”

They stop again before the table, and Solas looks at her intently. “Is that a challenge, dear Inquisitor?”

“That depends on your level of skill.”

She’s teasing him now, enticing him, a dynamic he’s come to enjoy. There are so few who impress him with thoughtfulness, who make him work at being clever.

“Very well, but you should know that I am merciless,” he warns, a contradiction to the chivalry of pulling out her chair. “Even to one I love.”

He takes the seat opposite her, the board and the pieces adorned in glittering dew.

“I believe the Lady Inquisitor moves first.”

He sets a dozen little traps for her, a dozen clever gambits, and she evades them every time, to his astonishment. Where he moves to attack, she counters; where he baits her, she defends or retreats. By the end, with the sun fully risen overhead, they reach a deadlock, both depleted, neither victorious.

“Again?” She asks cheerfully, when they’ve finished. Already she is freeing her captives from his end of the table. “Don’t look so stunned, my love. Unless you’re trying to offend me.”

“Forgive me, vhenan,” he says, shaking his head. “You surprise me as always. It is rare to find an opponent so…discerning.”

His beloved laughs with the morning breeze, a sound like air that surrounds and envelops him.

“Rare to find one you can’t beat, you mean.”

She’s right, of course– it is rare that he loses, even rarer that he plays against someone so evenly matched. He still can’t quite puzzle through it, where he went wrong, where she figured him out.

He had gotten a lead on her early on, or so he thought– he had taken a tower, a mage, and two pawns– and left his queen open for the taking, which she had entirely ignored. She caught onto him quickly, though too late to win, and when she realized she couldn’t beat him, she had blocked him instead.

Solas leans thoughtfully back in his chair, replaying their game in his mind. No matter how he tries to beat her, he finds no way through. She sees his scheming, sees him coming, cuts him off.

“Why did you not take my queen, given the chance?”

“Because you gave me the chance,” she reasons. “You wouldn’t do that except to win.”

“It could have been a tactical error.” “It wasn’t,” she says assuredly, resetting the pieces along their battle lines. “If I had taken her, it would have left my king undefended from your mages.” “You could have moved him.” “For a turn or two. Then your knight would have circled back. Isn’t that right?” She looks up at Solas, her eyes smiling and sharp, affirmed in her answer already. “Or shall we call that a ‘tactical error?’”

“Mm,” Solas nods his approval. “You’ve become quite the strategist. Have you been spending time with our Commander?”

“I’ve been spending time with you,” she counters. “Learning all your little tricks.”

Not all, it occurs to him, but Solas smothers the thought with a laugh. “It seems to me you have a few of your own.”

“Our Keeper used to call me harellan,” she tells him. “Trickster. Though I needn’t explain that to you.”

He fights to keep the easy expression on his face, feeling suddenly caught in the snare of her gaze, as if she sees directly through him, sees him fully, all he is.

Harellan, his mind echoes. How could she know?

The wait for her judgment feels infinite, inevitable– but it does not come, and does not come, and does not come. She only moves a white pawn toward the board’s center, the leaves rustling softly around them.

No, he decides. She does not know. She only means he knows the word.

Solas mirrors her opening move, their pawns face to face on the battlefield. “And still, your Keeper named you her First.”

“I was more troublesome as a child,” she says, with a grin that implies that the mischief has never left her. “I’ve settled down a great deal since. Can’t you tell?”

This time, when Solas laughs, there is nothing else hiding beneath it. No uneasy feeling, no great fear that she will discover him, cast him out. There is only happiness for a moment, the war reduced to a board between them, as if sorrow and death are nowhere, and the end of the world is far away.

#solavellan #solas x inquisitor #solas x lavellan #solas fanfic #my fic #solasmance #solas dragon age #solas #fen'harel #the dread wolf rises #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age trespasser #dragon age dreadwolf #dreadwolf #dragon age fanfic

90 notes · View notes

shady-tavern · 11 months

Text

A Deal of Games

Requested by anonymous, I very much hope this story is what you were hoping for! Small warning ahead for brief, implied murder.

*.*.*

The warning came with an exhausted rider on the back of their sweaty, trembling horse. Bandits were coming over the mountains and not just any rogue group, but an entire, well organized and supplied warband. Armed and armored and trained and two villages were already burning.

"They’re going to be here by tomorrow, they want to challenge the king and queen," the rider rasped, lying in the arms of the local blacksmith. "Run, flee and warn everyone along the way. I just barely made it out alive."

The villagers exchanged fearful, panicked glances and you knew immediately fleeing would be the ruin of many, if not most of the people you knew. Many here were old and while they had rich, fertile land, they had very little coin. Most people you knew could not afford to leave their homes behind.

You could see it in your mind’s eye already, as did the people around you, considering their expressions. All those homes burnt to the ground, warm houses nothing but ash and rubble, cinder for some cruel heart to burn brighter.

Everything around you would be nothing but fuel for the flames of the greed that had driven those bandits to come here and attack everyone.

Already you could see some of the elder folks exchanging grim looks, before peering at their grandchildren, at the worried soon-to-be-parents of their families.

You could see the decisions they came to, silent and heavy, as though they had already kneeled and bared their throats for death’s scythe. Going quietly into the night, holding prayers for the survival of their loved ones in their hearts.

You could see the downright desperate determination of the strong and capable, the young and spry, who did not miss the way their old and sick family members looked.

The way fists balled in helpless anger, teeth grit in bitter fury and eyes grew dark with the fist bloom of heart-rotting, soon-to-be-born hatred. They looked as though they wanted to reach out and grip the strands of fate with all they had and force the weave of the world into submission.

To take those strands and strangle whatever careless, unfeeling god was responsible for the world being just a little cracked. As if someone powerful had shattered a once loving existence and had used cruelty to glue the edges back together.

There were no fighters in the village, only two hunters who were indeed quite skilled, but they would fall swiftly should they even attempt to stop the bandits.

Running into the woods and hiding until the warband was gone was not an option either, not with the creatures that lived there. Not with how deeply everyone would have to go to hide, to not be found.

They’d run from one death to straight into another. One that might end up being even crueler in the end.

But…you turned to look towards the mountains at the back of the village, that last, sharp jutting of stone and rock before the mountain range cut off entirely. If you turned the other way you could see smoke rising in the distance, homes already burnt to the ground.

Where death marched towards your home with steel weapons and muddy boots and hearts that beat like war drums, filling veins and bones with the song of delighted blood thirst and greedy violence.

There was one thing you could do. Attempt to do, even if it was reckless and dangerous and might just cost you everything. But…everything was already lost and you had to try.

You had to try for old Miriam and Jamil, who had taught you the fine art of whittling and woodcraft, helping your hands shape beautiful things out of wood until your art was the envy of many a traveler.

For your elderly parents, your father who had complained about his sore back just this morning and your mother who had sprained her foot chasing the goose out of the house and slipping on a rag. For your friends and their families, who had always welcomed you to warm dinners and laughter around the fireplace.

For the home you loved.

"I’ll go speak with the dragon," you said just as the mayor, a rotund, quick-witted woman who had led the village through many troubling times, was about to speak up.

"We have nothing to offer," the miller cut in, bouncing his toddler on his hip, the little boy looking about ready to bawl at how tense and scared and angry everyone was. "And if you anger him, all of us will be dead before the bandits even arrive."

You knew your neighbor wasn’t wrong, that no one had been able to make a deal with the dragon ever since it had settled down on the mountain. People had tried, but had come back terrified and cowed. So far, as long as no one hunted in the dragon’s territory, he hadn’t shown up to eat your neighbor’s livestock either.

But the dragon was the only creature you could think of to ask for aid. The only one who had shown a clear 'do not bother me and I will not bother you' mentality, whereas the other creatures in the forest had been nothing but tricky and nasty and darkly hungry.

The village had no riches to offer the dragon and it hadn’t been interested in being offered any sacrifices in the past either, neither animal nor human. The dragon wanted nothing the village had, but maybe…maybe you could promise to get the dragon something else.

You’d abandon your life, leave your parents and friends and neighbors and teachers behind to go on long, arduous journeys, if only it meant they all got to live.

So when everyone hurried to pack, calling out to children still playing in the field, whistling for the shepherd who had watched from a distance without leaving her herd, you slipped away.

It was easy enough to grab the plough horse of your parents, a patient mare named Rika who had let you learn riding on her broad, strong back. Nothing had scared her for as long as she had been on the farm and she was always friendly and steadfast, never so much as stumbling over stones or roots.

She was the keeper of many of your secrets and had allowed you to cry into her mane after you had gotten your heart broken last year. She sensed your urgency now and watched closely as you got the saddle and bridle, feeding her a quick treat before you tacked her up.

"Son." Your father’s voice made you flinch in surprise and turn sharply on your heels. He stood in the entrance of the stable, frowning in grim worry. "Please, tell me you won’t do something foolish."

"Of course not," you answered. You had never lied much to your parents, they were always so loving and supportive of you that it simply wasn’t necessary, but in return, they never expected you to lie the few times you did. "I was just getting her ready so we can leave. Mama can’t walk after all."

Your father’s face eased in relief and now he just looked tired and scared. "Thank you, my boy. Go and put her in front of the cart, this way we can take a few more things with us. Maybe a neighbor or two too."

Though even as he said it, his gaze slid away guiltily. There would be few things your parents would be able to take along if they didn’t want to weight their mare down too much. Slow her down too much.

She’d get tired faster and even if she was strong and enduring, none of you knew how long you’d have to run, how far you had to flee, before you were safe again.

Your grip tightened on her reins and you nodded and your father turned around to hurry into the house. For a moment you considered staying where you were, putting Rika in front of the cart and helping your parents escape. If you did end up angering the dragon there was no hope for anyone, this way at least most people of the village would hopefully get to live.

But it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that just because other people were stronger, had the training and had the willingness to hurt and kill carved into their hearts, that you and your loved ones had to suffer. No, you wanted to help. You wanted everyone to keep the lives they had.

So you got on Rika’s back, took a deep breath and urged her out of the stable into the farm courtyard. She was smart and obedient and your urgency made her move faster than she usually did. You heard your father shout, but by then you were already galloping down the road and towards the forest.

More people shouted behind you, calling you back, asking where you went, if everything was alright. You didn’t stop for any of them and before you knew it, the shadow of the forest fell over you and you urged your horse to go faster. You had to hurry to reach the dragon, the sooner he might be willing to help, the better.

You were covered in sweat, as was Rika, when at last a rocky animal-trail came into view, leading up the mountains towards a cavern high up. The dragon’s home. It was probably terribly rude to just climb up and brazenly enter his den, but you had no idea if the dragon could hear you if you shouted from down here.

So you urged Rika onward and she climbed as swift and steady as she pulled the plough, her strong body hauling you along as though you might be a mere sack of grain and you held on, making sure to do your best to aid her and watch out for any trouble along the way.

She must’ve smelled the dragon as you neared the cave, for she grew restless and hesitant for the first time. You pressed a hand to her neck, steadying and calming her and she snorted before moving on. Trusting you to guide her, trusting your judgement to keep her safe. You hoped that trust wasn’t misplaced.

At long last you reached the entrance and slid out of the saddle, your legs nearly buckling. You hadn’t ridden that long or that hard in months and you were getting tired, but determination and worry and fear ensured you’d keep going for a while longer.

"Wait here," you whispered, throwing her reins over a rock as she caught her breath from the climb. You touched her nose and her ears perked, focusing on you. "Thank you, so much."

With those words you hurried into the cave, the air immediately growing cool as you left the sunlight and you could see marks of the dragon’s presence everywhere. For one, the walls had gotten worn down to look smooth and pretty lines and swirls and strange marks had been carved along the ceiling. The floor was the only rougher part of the cave, shallow claw marks left in the stone.

At the end of the hallway you could see the glow of light, too steady to be fire, but it couldn’t be sunlight either, not with how deep into the rock the dragon’s home was built.

"Who dares," deep, threatening voice rumbled along the hallway, making all your hair stand on end. "Steps too heavy to belong to a thief, too light for a knight and I can hear your breathing as though you were running, little intruder. Leave, this is your last warning."

"Please," your voice came out stronger than you had thought and you drew to your full height, heart pounding in your chest, hard enough to make you feel its beat in your very bones. "All I ask is that you hear me out."

A long beat of heavy silence, then an equally heavy exhale followed, almost a sigh. "Very well. Make it quick, I don’t have all afternoon."

You had no idea what dragons were up to in their free time, but you weren’t going to risk being rude and ask. You hurried forward and before you knew it you entered the dragon’s home properly. It was, in a way, breathtakingly beautiful.

Large, golden stones glowed along the ceiling and walls, looking as though someone had unearthed them with great care and then polished them to shiny perfection. They were set perfectly into place to illuminate everything, the massive, smoothed down cavern walls and domed ceiling decorated with more carvings, these inlaid with gems and shiny gold and silver.

And most of all, they illuminated the dragon himself. Imposing and impressive and frightening as he was, you still couldn’t help but think that he was beautiful. In the same way a silver-steeled dagger with a jeweled hilt was beautiful, the way a storm was mesmerizing in its wild power.

He was breathtaking in a way you had last felt balancing along the edge of the tallest roof while tipsy, your friends egging you on until you had made a handstand right at the edge, feeling the pull of gravity. That almost-sense of nearly falling but keeping yourself balanced at the last second.

Eyes the color of molten gold were fixed on you and the dragon’s green scales shimmered like layered emerald and jade, veins of gold running through them and reminding you of the way sunlight fell through the canopy and danced along the mossy forest floor.

Gentle heat was emanating from the dragon, turning an otherwise cold cavern into something softly, comfortably warm.

"You are very brave, little one," he rumbled and with a start you remembered why you had come here and what for. The dragon shifted to peer down at you, lips lightly pulled back to reveal sharp teeth, while the tips of his claws lightly scratched across the ground, marking the floor so easily the stone might as well have been made of mud. His tail was lashing behind him in impatience and growing irritation.

"I’m willing to offer anything you want in exchange for your help," you hurried to say, almost stumbling over the words. "Bandits will attack and…and we can’t fight back."

The dragon’s face was unexpectedly expressive, you had to admit, when he exhaled in a near-scoff and leaned back as though the conversation was already over in his mind. "You have nothing of interest you could offer me. Leave."

As he turned, clearly dismissing you, you saw what had been shielded with the bulk of his body. His hoard, but where you had heard stories of massive riches, of enough gold to buy two kingdoms and immortality too if you felt like it, at first all you saw was wood inlaid with polished bits of stone. But, no, that wasn’t just wood, those were board games. Countless ones, ones you were familiar with and many you were not.

They were very carefully placed and clearly not for the dragon to sleep on top of, or everything would have turned to splinters after a single attempt. They weren’t in a pile either, but sorted in a way that actually allowed easy access to each and every one. As though the dragon used them, but as far as you knew, he rarely, if ever, had visitors. To your knowledge, other dragons visited only once every other year and the other monsters in the forest would be more inclined to steal things than sit down a round or two of gameplay.

"I could be your board game partner." The words slipped out without much mind, a last-ditch effort that you were surprised to find you actually meant.

You had a couple of board games at home yourself, but people rarely sat down to play with you, if ever. Your friends lacked the patience or the enthusiasm and preferred to visit the tavern and your parents were usually too busy and tired.

You couldn’t count the amount of times you wished you had had someone to play with, a quiet longing you kept tucked into a lonely corner of your heart. A passion you couldn’t share with anyone but couldn’t give up on either.

The dragon’s head snapped around and his eyes narrowed dangerously and he snarled, "You can take your pity -"

"No one plays with me either," you said, immediately cringing inward when you realized that you had interrupted him. You might not make it down the mountain alive after all. But when the dragon just stared, you found yourself continuing, "My friends don’t have the patience and my parents are too busy most days and, well, playing by myself just…makes me sad."

Your voice had grown soft on the last few words. Sad and lonely. Some days you didn’t even want to look at your games, knowing you’d only get excited about them for no reason. And the following disappointment when everyone told you 'not today, maybe later' when you asked if they wanted to play with you would hit all the harder.

There must’ve been something on your face or in your voice, for the dragon’s tension slowly eased away as he watched you, eyes still narrowed but gaze more contemplative.

"One evening every week," he said and hope crashed into your chest like a thunderstorm, electrifying your veins and stealing your breath away, sweeping you along with a heavy, thrumming relief.

"Make that two," you said, a smile appearing on your face and the dragon threw his head back, laughing in startled surprise. It made the ground rumble and you couldn’t help but feel your smile morph into a grin.

"Deal," he said, easing down a bit to better look at you. He offered a grin of his own, all dagger-sharp teeth and nature-wild danger and the back of his throat faintly glowed with fire. "Where are your bandits?"

You told him and he rumbled, ushering you out of his home and telling you to go back to your village. And if, on the way back, you had to wipe a few tears of relief and gratitude away, there was no one but your patient, steady horse to see it. And she surely wouldn’t tell on you, she’d been keeping all your secrets safe for years after all.

Just as you left the forest to see the entire village in a flurry of panicked packing and tearful arguing, you heard a roar thunder across the sky. Everyone’s heads snapped up, yours included and you saw the dragon rise from his mountain, turning a slow half circle before he seemed to spot something, taking off into the distance.

Your breath shivered out of you in relief and you sagged onto Rika’s neck, briefly pressing your face into her warm mane that smelled like horse and hay.

Your parents were already waiting for you, packed bags and satchels at their feet and they grabbed you as soon as you got out of the saddle, pulling you into tight hugs.

"My brave, impossible boy," your mother whispered, tears in her eyes. "Did the dragon…" At your nod she briefly closed her eyes, relief and worry warring on her face. "What did you offer him?"

"I’ll visit twice a week," you said, gripping their arms reassuringly when worried frowns made their brows furrow. "It’s nothing bad, I promise. It seems I had something to offer after all."

You weren’t going to tell them what, not when it felt like the dragon’s loneliness was a sore spot to him. Not when it touched upon a sore spot of your own, that little corner of lonely sadness when you had no one to truly share your passions with.

Within two hours the dragon returned, roaring once and by evening another rider appeared, sweaty and exhausted but grinning fiercely.

"The bandits are defeated!" they shouted as they rode through the village, only slowing down long enough to deliver the message before moving on to the next place. "The warband is no more!"

The entire village celebrated like never before and you slept like a baby that night.

*.*.*

The first time you showed up at the dragon’s cave, things were a bit stilted and after a game had been chosen, you had almost let the dragon win. Until you remembered how much it sucked to not be taken seriously, to feel like playing games was a chore for the other person. To not be challenged when it was so much fun to not have to hold back.

The dragon was certainly challenge enough for you and with every meeting you noticed him relax more and more. Soon he was talking freely, letting you choose what games you’d like to try and teaching you the ones you had never seen before.

There was no need to bite back your excitement about the games around him, your enthusiasm and your love. If anything, he matched you beat for beat, the two of you getting lost in the shared joy for hours. It grew to the point where Rika had to neighing loudly because she was hungry and wanted to get home to remind you that it was getting late.

"I’ll come by again tomorrow," you said and the dragon blinked in surprise.

"You have already been here twice this week," he reminded you and you couldn’t help but snort.

"As long as I don’t bother you, I’m coming over. I’m having too much fun." Your grin was toothy, your entire being downright lit-up with how much you had enjoyed yourself.

The dragon blinked, head tipping to watch you, then he smiled. "Be welcome, then, whenever you wish."

"You’re going to regret that," you warned him, still grinning and he laughed, a rumbling sound from deep within his chest.

"Oh, I doubt it," he answered and the gold in his eyes seemed to glow brighter. "I highly doubt it."

So you came back the next day and before you knew it, you spent most of your free time with the dragon, your parents sending you off with fond smiles and your friends reminding you to still meet them on the weekend for your usual get-together.

Rika was long since used to the trek up the mountain and she walked swifter and faster with every time, carrying you without complaint.

As summer turned to autumn you realized you had made the most wonderful friend by approaching the dragon. What had started out as a mutually beneficial deal had grown to be so, so much more. You were happy every time you saw him and the dragon understood you on a level that no one else did.

For as kind as the people in the village were, for as much as your parents loved you and your friends wanted you around, greeting you with grins and waving you over whenever they saw you, the dragon just…got you.

All the parts of you that had fit kind of awkwardly before, all the little things about you that people had accepted but hadn’t known what to do with, all your secret little hopes and yearnings, everything seemed to have a place here. With him.

You realized you weren’t the only one who felt that way when you arrived at the cavern to see that a makeshift stall for Rika had been built outside, to keep her safe and dry. There was even quite the amount of grass piled up for her to munch on.

And when you stepped inside you saw piles of pillows and blankets on the ground, decadent enough that they should have belonged to an emperor. There was a keg of water as well, a couple of bottles of wine and mead and a new shelf, holding dried meats and cheese wheels and herbs and bread and beside it stood sacks with vegetables and fruits.

"From my sister," the dragon said, rumbling at you in welcome. "She’s happy I found someone like you and when she visited last night she insisted on making you more comfortable."

If his sister had shown up after sundown it explained why no one in the village had noticed another dragon’s presence. She must have left while it had been dark as well and it made you wonder if the dragon had more visitors than expected if most of them visited at night.

"Thank you, that’s very sweet," you said and the dragon grinned, head perking in a pleased manner. "And thank you for caring for my horse as well."

"Of course," the dragon said like it was common sense. "I care about the things you care about."

He told you stories that day while you played. About growing up among his egg siblings and playful parents who had taught them all to defend what was theirs no matter what. Fierce and unapologetic.

He told you about his travels until he had found the perfect spot to settle down in, how his parents had been the ones to gift him his first game when he had shown little interest in the other riches they presented him with.

"It’s customary to help the hatchlings start their own hoard," he explained when you asked, curious about customs among dragons. "How to collect and care for it and develop a fine eye for what is worth keeping."

The way he looked at you when he said that made a giddy warmth rise within your chest. You smiled back at him and found yourself telling stories of your own. Before you knew it, you told the dragon everything, even the things you had only ever told Rika in the past.

He never judged you for anything and laughed at your jokes and always asked how you were doing, what your day had been like. He was so very genuinely interested in you and your life and the things you loved.

And as autumn became winter and the trek up the mountain took longer, he coiled around you to warm you back up every time. You leaned against his scales, swaddled in thick blankets and sitting atop your soft pillows and as you soaked up his heat, you realized that you had fallen in love.

You played together, forgetting the time and when you heard Rika grow restless, thick snowfall had begun to cover the mountain. It was too dangerous to ride back in that weather and it was getting dark too quickly.

"Stay the night," the dragon offered and showed you a spot where you could put Rika, so she’d be dry and warm and comfortable. You handed her an arm full of apples and some of the oats kept in a sack and she nudged your arm before eating.

The dragon seemed excited to have you over, nudging at the pillows and blankets over and over until he seemed satisfied and curled up around them. You had to laugh and sat down with him after grabbing yourself dinner and something to drink.

You talked for hours, until your eyes started to grow heavy and you couldn’t stop yawning.

"Sleep well," the dragon rumbled quietly, curling more around you until you were surrounded by heat and comfort. "I will guard your rest and your dreams."

He was so very, very sweet.

The next morning, while the dragon left to hunt, you put away the board game from last night and that was when you noticed something that had been carefully put away. A broken game. The top of the wooden casing was splintered and a number of the figurines and pieces used for playing were cracked apart inside.

It was such a beautiful game too, the wood painted carefully and the playing board was even inlaid with shining metals and polished marble and some of the game elements were carved out of horn and bone. You would have paid a fortune had you tried to buy that from a trader.

You heard the dragon return and straightened with the broken game in your hands just as he entered, carrying the satisfied air of a successful hunt.

"What happened to this one?" you asked and for the first time, you saw true sadness on his face.

"It was one of my first gifts," he said quietly. "From my grandparents, shortly before they were slain by knights. I was…rather upset. I accidentally destroyed it and I’ve been unable to let go of it."

"It’s beautiful," you said and he hummed, a low, subdued rumble.

"Despite being broken it’s one of my most precious pieces," he added, gently nudging your shoulder. "Come on, put it back and get yourself something to eat, the weather has cleared enough for you to head home."

You set the game down with utmost care and the somber mood was soon replaced with chatter as the dragon asked you about your plans for the day. As you got read to leave, he briefly pressed his forehead to yours.

"Safe travels," he said quietly. "I will await your return."

You reached out to hug him and left with Rika soon after, arriving just in time to get ready for work. But even as the days passed you couldn’t bring yourself to forget about the broken game so loved your dragon couldn’t bring himself to throw it away. You ended up spending the night more often, especially when the weather grew bad or it was too late and you didn’t want to ride home in the dark.

Your parents just laughed and told you to introduce the dragon to them one day if he was growing to be so important to you. Considering the knowing looks they sent you, they had absolutely caught on to your feelings. You waved them off, though you couldn’t help but smile a little, feeling quietly happy and pleased.

And then the winter solstice came around and with it a festival to celebrate the end of long, dark nights. The point where winter would turn towards spring and even if it would snow for some time yet, you knew the weather would grow warm again before long.

It was your woodworking teachers who gave you the idea for a gift for the dragon and you hid your sketchbook in your coat when you visited and stayed the night. You waited until the dragon had fallen asleep before very carefully climbing out of the nest of pillows and blankets and over his tail, tiptoeing over to his hoard.

You sketched and measured everything, handling the broken game with utmost care and once you were done, you hid the sketchbook in your coat again and cuddled up to your dragon, who rumbled in satisfaction in his sleep. So very sweet indeed.

It thankfully wasn’t too hard to get all the necessary materials and while old Miriam and Jamil didn’t lend a hand they gave you a few pointers and tips and you spent hours bent over wood and bone, bugging the blacksmith for his help with metalwork.

And then, on the night of the festival, you celebrated with your friends and family and just after the large fires had been lit, you snuck away, a wrapped parcel in your coat pockets. You had timed things well, arriving just as your dragon had left to hunt.

You pulled out the parcel and the broken game and carefully removed the broken top, replacing it with the one you had made. Afterwards you carefully took out the broken pieces and inserted the new ones you had made. In the end the game looked hale and whole and only if you looked hard enough could you see a difference between old and new parts.

You didn’t throw the old things away, that wasn’t your place. Instead, you left them on a silk cloth and set up the game in your usual playing spot, waiting for the dragon to return.

It didn’t take long and he called out your name in surprised delight before he even entered his cave, his golden eyes bright.

"I did not expect you today," he said with a warm rumble, only to still, those sharp eyes falling to the game set up in front of you. He was so silent you were unsure if he was even breathing at all.

"I, uh, hope I didn’t overstep?" you asked, suddenly feeling a bit unsure. "I just…I can put it back to how it was, don’t worry."

"You did this?" the dragon asked, his voice the quietest you had ever heard it as he slowly stepped forward, green and gold scales shining like a living forest in the glow of his golden stones. "For me?"

You nodded, picking up one of the pieces you had made, holding it out to him. "I know how much this game means to you and I wanted to make you happy."

The dragon eyed the piece in your hand, looking reluctant to reach out and touch it himself. He did at last, carefully turning it over between his claws.

"It looks just like I remember," he said, voice quiet and there was a near purring rumble underlining the words. "It’s beautiful. Who made all this?"

"I did," you answered and his eyes snapped to you, suddenly sharper and brighter and fiercer than ever before. You couldn’t help but smile. "I did tell you I’m a woodworker."

The dragon set the piece down ever so carefully, then leaned close to press his forehead to yours, your arms rising to hug his head as much as possible.

"Please allow me to court you," he said quietly, smelling like the winter winds outside, his heat warming your entire chest as his words made your breath catch. "I’ve been trying hard to hold back how I feel, but after this -"

"Yes," you blurted out, grinning and then laughing, closing your eyes and nuzzling your face against his scales. "Absolutely, yes."

The dragon rumbled, a noise that would have sounded fierce and intimidating hadn’t you known him so well. It was a sound of deep, bottomless joy and he pressed closer, his tail swinging around, the end coiling around your waist.

"Then I will," he said quietly. "I vow to bring you happiness and fulfill as many of your wishes as I possibly can."

You were smiling so much your cheeks hurt and your heart had grown wings of gold and light in your chest, soaring high and strong. "Keep playing games with me," you said quietly. "And hold my heart with care, that’s all I want."

"For all my days," your dragon vowed. "Will you accept mine in return?"

"For all my days," you answered, hugging him fiercer. "For as long as this life lasts."

You had every intention to share as many joys with this dragon, your dragon, as you could. To hold him and be held in return, to love freely and fearlessly and know you and your heart and soul would be held safe and secure. That there was someone who saw you as you were and wanted you exactly like that.

And deep down you knew, this life would be a very long and very happy life indeed.

*.*.*

Yo, want more of my stuff? Want to support my silliness? My nonsense? Please consider checking out my patreon! A new short story gets uploaded every month and every bit helps pay the bills and frees up more time for writing stories for you all =)

#my writing #short story #dragon #dragon x male reader #fantasy #aye you know me this is another long one folks #I very much hope you'll enjoy it!#I very much enjoyed writing it #dragons are always a plus #if I could I would put dragons into every single damn story

254 notes · View notes

lavenderfluorite14 · 7 months

Text

A Taste of Plums | Astarion x Female!Tav

Chapter 3: Kiss

Summary: Astarion sets some boundaries, then drinks his fill.

Chapter Warnings: 18+, Explicit Content, Blood Drinking, Brief Somnophilia, Masturbation.

Full tag list on AO3. Chapter 1. Chapter 2.

A/N: Happy Patch 6 Update Eve! Also Happy Valentine’s Day, I love everyone who has clicked on this fic so I’m updating early. Please enjoy some Astarion self-love smut. ❤️‍🔥

The next morning Tav emerged from her tent well rested and alert. She made her morning rounds as usual, but each time Astarion thought she was making her way over to him Tav would instead veer away, seemingly captivated by some other distraction. Was she ignoring him? Was Tav going to leave him at camp with the other rejects while she adventured with her favorites? His uncharacteristic moment of shyness last night was already costing him. When Tav finally made her way over to him he slipped on his silkiest smirk. “My darling,” he immediately begins, “last night you were positively divine-"

“Wait, Astarion,” Tav interrupts. He stops, his monologue dead on his lips.

“I’m sorry for overstepping last night. I know you only wanted my blood.” Astarion blinks owlishly at her. She was apologizing to him. He could work with this. “For what it’s worth, I’m very disgusted with myself. But that doesn’t excuse my-”

“Oh, it’s not your fault that I’m so irresistible.” Astarion waves his hand. “I just wanted to make sure that you were alright,” he insists. Tav reddens, her blood blooming beautifully in her cheeks.

“I’m alright, Astarion,” Her fingers brush the amulet, which glitters against her throat. “This was a really thoughtful gift.” His stomach does a weird little flip-flop that he doesn’t understand. He knew she’d like it, that’s why he gave it to her. It benefits him.

“I’m so delighted,” he says. It’s not entirely a lie and a small frisson of fear coils at the base of his spine.

“But if you are uncomfortable with our arrangement, we can make some very simple adjustments.” He cocks an eyebrow playfully. “We can do this the traditional way. I’ll come to you at night after you are soundly asleep in your bedroll. ”

Tav shifts uneasily. “But are you sure-"

“And next time, I’ll make sure I’m quiet,” Astarion leans into her, invading her space. “I’ll take just enough to keep me sated,” he lowers his tone suggestively, “and just enough to keep you wishing for more.” Tav swallows at his innuendo, but she keeps her voice even.

“Whatever you are comfortable with, Astarion.”

“I promise, I am very, very comfortable,” Astarion lies. Now, shall we begin the day? These goblins won’t kill themselves.”

The blighted village was a depressing eyesore, but a small treasure trove of resources lay hidden behind its crumbling walls. Astarion could have wept when they discovered a bathtub on the upper floor of an apothecary. The alchemist who had lived there, Ilyn Toth, had been quite well-stocked. On the first floor they found all kinds of herbs, potions, and trinkets. Astarion was raiding a wine rack when Karlach called out to them: “Oi guys! There’s a hatch over here! Bet there’s even more stuff in the basement.”

More potions, more books, more trinkets. Karlach even took a painting off the wall at Tav’s urging. And then Astarion noticed a lever peaking out from behind a stack of boxes. Tav grabbed it and one of the many bookcases slid aside with an ominous creak, revealing a dank, wet passageway that wound its way deep into the earth. Obviously Tav wanted to check it out.

Tav had been cordial, if perhaps a little distant, since the morning. He thought that perhaps she was trying to give him space. He supposed it was cute, if a little silly. She wouldn’t feel so bad about wanting to use him if she knew even a few of the things he had done. But he could easily reel her in again. In the warm light of day his previous objections seemed childish and maudlin.

He was somewhat surprised that she had even agreed to night time feedings. “The Kiss” was a powerful relaxant, a brilliant adaptation for a devious nocturnal predator. To some, it was even an aphrodisiac. Why allow him to bite her at all if she couldn’t enjoy the effects? She must truly be a deviant. Nonetheless, this was still a mutually beneficial transaction. Astarion had gotten what he wanted. Why wasn’t he satisfied?

The passageway snaked its way into a glittering cave where half a dozen coffins moldered in the gloom. Karlach immediately pried one open and Tav discovered a scroll within its depths, a curious spell that allowed the caster to summon a quasit. She handed it to Wyll, who began studying it. Soon a foul-mouthed, gibbering little demon was trailing behind them, babbling on about some book with terrible magic inside. Astarion had wanted to name her Basket, but Wyll wanted to keep her previous name: Shovel.

Turns out, the good doctor had been dabbling in powerful necromantic magic beneath his quaint little shop. Useful necromantic magic. And it seemed like he had left in a hurry: books and notes were scattered all over his laboratory, bones and viscera littered the floor, and a body was unceremoniously dumped across a dirty operating theater. Tav immediately buried herself in the necromancer’s notes while Wyll and Karlach continued scavenging. Astarion’s eye was drawn to a curious cell embedded in the rock, locked behind a barred door. He jimmied the locks and traps easily, stepping carefully into the cramped room.

Inside the cell on an otherwise barren table lay one of the most menacing books that Astarion had ever seen. It had been bound in a suspicious and unidentifiable leather, and from its cover a wretched face emerged in a silent scream. There must be something good inside.

“This journal says that there was a key of some kind that went missing? And then days later Toth’s apprentice also disappeared?” Tav said.

“Very suspicious,” Karlach murmured. Astarion grinned. Necromancy meant control of the dead. Control of the undead. Perhaps even a spell or two for vampire lords.

“Then what are we sitting around for, darlings?”

That meddling boy must have been the dumbest apprentice in all of Faerûn. Turns out, stealing the key to an ominous necromantic tome meant chucking it down a well and into an infestation of venomous spiders. Astarion had laughed when Karlach tripped over the enwebbed body of the apprentice. Serves that fool right.

It was so faint that Astarion almost missed it. Deep in the darkness of the well a faint purple light pulsed and swirled. Kicking aside a spider carcass, Astarion plucked the gem from the grimy cave floor. Its eerie glow cast a strange pall over their faces. “I think that’s it,” Tav said, reaching out for the amethyst. Their fingers brushed and despite their thick gloves and the sweaty exertion from battle, Astarion felt a spark of electricity pass between them. Tav had been particularly vicious today, blinding and paralyzing spiders with barely a word. Then he would strike while they were stunned, piercing them with his sharp blades. They’d made a good team. He couldn’t help running his eyes along her throat and down her curves as he relinquished the jewel to her. Tav briefly polished the stone against the front of her jerkin and popped it into the front of the strange book, which began to glow with a sickly violet light. This was an evil book. A powerful book.

“Please don’t open the creepy book,” Karlach pleaded.

“That’s evil magic. We must destroy it,” Wyll insisted.

“And it looks awfully heavy. Why don’t you let me carry that for you?” Astarion put on his best pout, his eyes glittering in the lowlight. Tav turned towards him. “On one condition,” She said. Astarion stiffened. “Will you tell me what’s inside it when you are done?” Astarion smiled.

“I’ll tell you every last sordid detail, my dear.”

Camp was quiet that night. Gale asked many questions about the new book and even had the audacity to ask Astarion if he could have it instead. “Absolutely not. It is mine,” Astarion spat. Gale opened his mouth to protest but Astarion quickly added: “Tav said so.” Confusion and hurt both passed over Gale’s face and Astarion turned on his heel and left, clutching his dark prize tightly.

Tav had really given him the clearly evil necromantic book. First her blood, and now a powerful magical artifact that could possibly empower him against his master. He hasn’t even slept with her yet and his little investment was already paying off.

He settled into his tent, mentally preparing himself to read. He pulled a tufted chair up to the small table he had decided to use as a desk, both of which were stolen from the necromancer’s basement. Somehow, this felt familiar. It wasn’t concrete but he had a vague feeling, a memory in his body, of poring over thick, difficult to read tomes until the dense passages made sense or he made them make sense. He shrugged the feeling away: he wasn’t a magistrate anymore.

Astarion stared at the grim face on the cover of the book with disdain. It was so hideous. Astarion flipped open the heavy cover and a delicious wave of dark energy immediately surged through him. It felt energizing, powerful. He felt deep in his bones that he was on the right path, that this book could tell him exactly what he wanted to know. As he continued reading, the glyphs began to shift and swirl before his eyes. Magic rippled through the pages, through his fingers, through his body. Voices came to him, whispering terrible longings and secrets of every shape and size. The cacophony filled him so completely that his head began to throb with it.

Kill them. Kill them all.

Dark claws of magic pulled at his mind, trying to erode his will and drag him under its control. “No, I won’t kill them.” Astarion ground out as he thrashed in his chair, resisting the dreadful pull with everything he had. Well, maybe Karlach, he thought. Even in the grips of fell magic, he remembered how she had hoisted Tav up into her arms, effortlessly carrying her back to camp yesterday.

Look. Away.

Astarion mustered up every last ounce of his will, successfully slamming the book closed with a sickening thud. Free of the dark compulsions, he slumped forward in his chair. He wouldn’t kill Karlach. Karlach was too useful. And fun.

“Good book?” A voice cut through his tired thoughts like a hot knife and he bolted upright. Whirling in his seat, he saw Tav hovering at the entrance of his tent. He relaxed, somewhat. “Hello,” he said sheepishly. He gestured for her to come inside.

“Slow going, I take it?” Tav said, coming around his desk to peer at the book. “You could say that. It’s protected by vengeful spirits,” Astarion sighed. “They make it impossible to read the damn thing without triggering their unholy yammering.”

“I could tell. Are you alright?” Tav asked. Astarion nodded, hand waving her concern away. She hopped up on his desk and Astarion leaned back in his chair, turning to face her. “What do you think they are guarding?” she asked, kicking her feet as she perched. “It’s clearly something powerful, I can feel it,” Astarion gushed excitedly. “Anything could be in there. Ways to speak to the dead, control the dead. Bring the dead back to life. A way to free myself from Cazador could even be in there.” He looked up at her, saw the confusion on her face and internally smacked himself. Of course she doesn’t know who Cazador is. “Sorry, did you want something?” He snapped.

“Who is Cazador?” Tav asks innocently. He knows it’s innocent. He knows she’s just curious. Knowing her, she will probably think she can help.

“Cazador is none of your business,” Astarion spits. Tav stops kicking her feet. She slides off his desk, landing onto the dirt floor with a graceful plop.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she says diplomatically, but Astarion can tell she is disappointed. He just stares at her. She thinks she can handle it. But she’d hate him if she knew. She wouldn’t be so sweet to him if he told her. “I just came to tell you that you could feed on me again tonight. If you wanted.” Surprise washes over Astarion at this. Why is she being so nice to him?

He will have to tell her something eventually. But he doesn’t want to crush this tentative thing they have yet with his mess. Astarion slips on his mask, the face he knows Tav actually wants to see, and purrs:

“Then I’ll see you later, you sweet, generous thing.”

Tav lingers for another moment, sensing that she is dismissed, but clearly not wanting to leave. “Alright. Good night, Astarion. Get some rest if you can.” She leaves him to his bitter, lonely thoughts, just like he wanted.

Hours later, Astarion slips eagerly into Tav’s tent. He had waited impatiently until he felt her heartbeat settle into the steady rhythm of sleep. Now she lay before him like a fairytale princess waiting for true love’s kiss from a besotted prince. Such a pretty picture. It was almost a shame that she would get him instead.

He had denied her his body, taken her treasure, snapped at her, and told her no, yet she was still letting him drink her blood. He should feel guilty, especially after their earlier exchange, but it is in a vampire’s nature to take. And it is in her nature to give. How kind. How dumb. How lucky for him. After 200 years of starvation, slavery, and degradation he was going to seize every gift he received, even if he didn’t deserve it.

Astarion laid carefully down beside her. His hand drifted over her cheek, ghosting over her beautiful face. Leaning over her, he took a deep breath in through his nose, savoring the sweet smell of her hair, the savory notes of her skin. She was so warm up close. And now he had her all to himself.

His fangs sliced through her skin, hitting their sanguine mark with ease. He drank from her languidly, savoring each gush of blood that filled his mouth. Astarion felt some of it dribble down his chin, pooling in a seductive swirl along Tav’s throat. His cock twitched to life, slowly hardening with each mouthful of hot blood. When he was full enough he withdrew to admire her, yet again.

Tav hadn’t stirred at all. She lay peacefully asleep, completely undisturbed by his ministrations. Her expression was soft, relaxed in repose. She was completely unaware of the monster in her tent.

He returned dutifully to her neck, resuming his feast. But in between sips he pressed experimental kisses to her neck, unable to fully resist. Gods, she was gorgeous. And she was willingly letting him do this to her. She was clearly a fool. But she was his fool. Maybe she really would understand. He could never tell her everything, but maybe he could tell her certain things. He shuddered against her, dragging his lithe body against her in one tantalizingly slow motion.

Licking his lips clean of any blood, he laid a chaste kiss on her plush lips. He wanted to really kiss her, wanted to press his lips to hers and feel her open beneath him, ready to be taken. The memory of their previous kiss tormented him, made him achingly hard and filled him with stupid ideas that led nowhere.

Besides, this little display was a waste. Tav wasn’t awake to enjoy it, so what was the point. This won him no favors. But you like it, he thought. This brings you pleasure. He wanted to run as far away as he could and never come back. He wanted to bury himself completely between her legs.

He cleaned her up slowly. Tenderly, his traitorous mind supplied. He drew his tongue gently over her neck, lapping up any stray rivulets of blood. When he was done he pressed one final kiss to her neck, right over his bite.

Back in his tent Astarion flopped down into his nest of pillows, his deft fingers immediately grasping for the laces of his trousers. His neglected cock throbbed with a deep, insistent need that he could no longer ignore. He often had to make himself hard in order to perform for Cazador’s victims, but it had been an age since he had experienced an honest bodily reaction to someone. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. He was glad he was alone.

Initially he sets a brutal rhythm, just trying to get this over with. He strokes himself roughly from base to tip, hurtling himself towards oblivion. His mind drifts back to Tav and he realizes, as a pearl of precum beads on his tip, that he doesn’t actually want to rush this. He forces his hand to slow to a torturous pace, twisting his head on the upstroke in a way that pulls a breathy gasp from him. He imagines he is back in Tav’s tent, teeth buried in her throat and body settled firmly over hers.

Tav sleepily stirs beneath him, a moan on her lips. She presses herself upwards and begs him for more. “Please, Astarion.” He sinks his fangs deeper into her and she cries out sweetly, grinding herself desperately against his hard length like she did the other night. She’s at his mercy, overcome by pain and pleasure that only he can give her.

In his tent, heat pools in his abdomen and he finally allows himself to buck up greedily into his fist. In the fantasy, she spreads her legs for him and he slides easily into her, fucking her deeply, the taste of her blood still on his tongue. He licks his teeth, searching for any bloody remnants that might still be in his mouth. They are long gone but their ghost remains, faint but still ambrosial, and he moans with want as he fucks his fist faster. He takes her selfishly, pounding into her very core with unapologetic need. She clenches around him, shuddering on the brink of a powerful orgasm. She wants him, all of him. “Yes! Please, Astarion!”

His own climax hits him hard and fast, erupting all over his hand. He sinks further into his pillows, basking in the sudden afterglow. He can’t remember the last time he came like that. He can’t remember the last time he came at all. And to the thought of something as simple as Tav wanting him. He cringes at his juvenile fantasy.

The next morning Astarion surreptitiously watches Tav buckle her jerkin and equip her rapier, the perfect picture of a determined, capable adventurer. Today, Tav has decided to pay that sweet old lady a visit at her house, much to Lae’Zel’s irritation. This will delay their journey to the crèche but Tav says that they can’t afford to ignore any leads that they have, no matter how small. Astarion says nothing while Tav and Lae’Zel argue. The longer they delay, the longer he’s free. Astarion decides that despite the initial hiccups, everything is unfolding according to plan. Involving himself with Tav is a good tactical decision. And if he wants it too, well, then that is just a bonus.

Chapter 4: Confession

#astarion #tav x astarion #tavstarion #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion longfic #a taste of plums #the night shift

57 notes · View notes

snarky-art · 9 months

Note

bbyyyy SOTLK dresses redesign?

These were actually really interesting to work with, both in trying to keep colors and shapes from the original dresses combined with adding my own lore to it! Except for Aisha’s which wounded my so. I really wanted to keep her flowers but I just,, couldn’t get it to look right🥲 I added purple instead tho which is the color of the flower of andros, which is similar in appearance to a Camas Lily. They bloom in lush expansions all along the coast of the land of Androsia, where the mainland and sands meet.

More info on outfits below!

Musa: Tang dynasty influence. Did my best to keep some of the shapes from the og gown. The 2 red dots that I’ve featured a few times in either side of Musa’s mouth in different designs represent loudness and boldness and are commonly used symbols in a lot of melody, which are traits one would want to represent when holding as representation for the different cultures of Melody, proud of their heritage and great unbending will.

Aisha: mentioned some above about the purple additions to be the substitutes for actual flowers. Kept the split down the middle at the dress itself, just changed its length and shape, trying to keep the shape of the original one some with the purple bits below the corset tho

Tried to keep more true greens than teals too. She deserves more sleek satin fits also. Most of the stuff I draw her in I imagine there’s satin I just decided to do shading this time lol

Tecna: I decided before even designing this I wanted to keep that jacket on them at all costs. Happy with the shapes overall here and really love the colors. Probably my favorite of these looks. Shiny pants and silk featured because they look good on them. To me, they aren’t Tecna if they don’t have some weird heels too.

Flora: probably my least favorite design just because I feel like I need to get better at giving them more variety in their outfits, but I did what I could to keep a lot of the shapes present. Instead of those 2 long flower strands, I just had them replaced with the split full of flowers down the side.

Bloom: empire waistlines are very much the norm in Dominion fashion with not as many ruffles or as expanded a gown shape as featured here, but Bloom is new to this and her parents wanted her to be as comfortable as possible for the celebration. Bloom got to have direct input on the adjustments to the dress and is living the princess dream she’s always wanted currently. She intentionally looks a little awakward as a result, the stylists doing what they could to accommodate what she wanted and mesh it with traditional Dominion fashion styles to reiterate that Domino is what she represents. The slightly more formal front hairpiece with the additional 2 gold curls is present to make the statement that Domino is so back and Bloom is even wearing the golden headpiece that the heir wears to show this. It’s not until after the party she learns it was Daphne’s, and that leads to some Insecurities and the reality of what reviving Domino actually means for Bloom. More spirals coming in waves after this point. As always with Dominion garb the cyan gems are for those of the royal family and purples are for those that work with The Dragon Flame.

Stella: by this point in the story, Stella really starts to get more involved with Lunarian stuff and connect with her moon culture. It starts small in her presentation, with certain cuts of cloth (the slope of the fabric on the top part of the skirt) and the style of some of her jewelry, specifically the one with gems that is tilted to match the fabric shape and the incorporation of more blue gems. She also stops straightening her hair all the time (her hair is blonde from her mother, whom is Lunarian, but the saturation comes from her Solarian genetics, making the color look like it’s from Solarian genetics. Straightening it to match the majority of Solarian hair was a sure way to make sure she passed as Solarian until someone notices her pupils, which are Lunarian. She no longer fears if she’s passing or not. She is learning to take pride in her moon side).

Stella choosing to have the little blue gems on the bottom of her gold gem dress bit instead of gold or more orange is a bold move also she is starting her proper journey to doing joint work and advocating properly for systemic change for Lunaria.

135 notes · View notes

inkdrinkerworld · 1 year

Text

something like ms. honey

part 1 next

cw: fluff, friends to lovers, kindergarten!teacher!reader, internal hotch dialogue over falling in love, mentions of loss [haley]

Aaron is scared of getting close to you, his sweet neighbour next door who wears vibrant colours, long skirts and could talk for hours.

It’s been six months since you moved in across the street, and Aaron is completely gone.

The first time you met was when you saw Jack playing football in the front yard and asked,

‘Hey bud, you want a muffin?’ he stopped playing and stared,

‘What kinda muffin? My dad says not to take things from strangers.’

Aaron had come outside shortly after, shaking your hand when he opened his gate and accepting the muffin you had offered Jack.

Aaron did keep his distance, when he realised that he was more than infatuated. He noticed almost immediately when he started liking his teacher neighbour.

His neighbour who makes extra honey cornbread muffins for Jack for after school and who always treats Aaron to a coffee when they come over for Jack's weekly supply of baked goods.

His neighbour who adds a little extra cream to his coffee and who shares half a muffin with him even when he, ‘isn’t hungry.’

Aaron sees the way your eyes light up when Jack comes by before you leave for work, sees how your eyes linger on him when he speaks.

Aaron knows his own feelings have bloomed, and he knows what happens when someone gets close to him.

He avoids intimacy at all costs, and he knows perfectly well why he does.

He can’t lose someone else.

Not again.

He swears not going to, and he’s not putting Jack in a position to be able to lose anyone else.

“I can’t like her, David, Jack can’t lose anyone else.” Rossi reads between the lines.

“You don’t want to screw up again.” Aaron tenses and sighs.

“No, I guess not.”

Aaron sees you that evening, and for a minute he’s not sure he’s breathing.

You’re just walking back to your house, a small folder in your hands decorated with stickers. Aaron knows it’s your class folder, it’s where you keep all the new stickers for the kids.

Jack tugs on his pants leg though, only slightly breaking him out of his staring when he mumbles, “Let’s go say ‘hi’.”

Aaron nods but takes a moment to take you in.

Your glasses have their usual sunstone crystals on them, Aaron knows that because you corrected Jack when he called them ‘rocks.’

You have boots on, he can see only the toes of them but the mauve colour matches your blouse and your flared jeans. Aaron thinks you’re adorable and it’s bad for his heart the way it skips and beats harder when you smile at them.

“Miss Y/n!” ever since you told Jack you’re a teacher he insisted on calling you that- despite telling him, ‘just Y/n is fine, sweet boy.’

“Jack, you been good?” he runs over to you and you catch him mid jump, hooking him to your hip- folder pressed to his back as you hold him secure.

“I always am, though I got a red card yesterday in soccer for being naughty.” Jack says it like it’s ridiculous, the fact that he’s gotten a red card, but since you’d gotten familiar with the Hotcners, you’ve learnt that he frequents them.

Aaron chuckles then, jogging a little to bridge the distance between you.

“You pushed the other boy to the ground Jack, it was naughty.”

Aaron bumps his hip into yours as a greeting and you flash him a wide grin.

“Yeah, your dad’s right bud,” you ruffle his hair when he pouts, “But I got a fresh batch of something sweet for you.”

Aaron shakes his head. You indulge them both far too much.

“What kinda something? Because I was thinking maybe this time I could have some for myself and dad could get his own.” you laugh loudly then, pulling your key from your pocket.

“Let me.” Aaron finds himself rushing to unlock the door, pushing open the door and being hit with the scent of something warm and yeasted.

“What about sharing? You told me you were a good sharer Jack.” you try to enforce the things Aaron does with him, not wanting to overstep where his dad sets the ground rules.

Aaron notices every time. So does his heart.

He swears it’s not natural, the way he lets you into every facet of him so easily.

“Well I try,” he says sheepishly and you nod along adding an encouraging, ‘that’s the important part babe.’

“Dad just eats a lot. More than me, and he needs to be strong to fight the bad guys.” He lays his blond head on your shoulder and can’t see the way your eyes meet his dad's, all full of tears.

“Jack,” Aaron coos, heart warm at his son’s concern.

He wants to brush away the tears that collect in your eyes but you blink them away before they can fall.

“Well in that case, you and your dad are gonna have to stay over so I can make another batch.”

Jack perks up at that. Aaron hides his smile at your thoughtfulness.

“You don’t have to do that,” Aaron says softly but you tsk and gesture to your counter.

“I only made enough for a little body, Aaron.”

It was true. There was a miniature loaf of chocolate babka sitting on your cooking rack.

“It's chocolate bread.” you say to Jack who wiggles out of your arms to be free.

“Is it cooled?” he asks excitedly and you beam.

“Oh yeah! You can have a piece before your dinner if it’s okay with your dad?” You look up to Aaron who nods. He's gone.

‘It’s Friday anyways’, he rationalises, Jack deserves the little treat.

He’s so gone and he knows it.

“Thanks dad,” he says first before grabbing ‘his’ plate from the draining board.

It’s a small tea saucer, but it’s green and has little strawberries on them.

Jack's attention is taken by ‘Little Einsteins’ on the tv as you measure out the ingredients for a regular sized babka and a couple small ones, when Aaron takes a seat behind your kitchen island.

“You don’t have to make me one, you know. You have to tell him no once in a while.”

His words are whispered but Jack's too invested to care what either of you are doing now.

He's got his babka and his show.

“Aaron, did you hear his sad little voice? I almost cried.” your voice is water logged and he can see the tears forming again.

“You’re about to cry again, sweetheart.” The nickname slips out just as his hand reaches out to brush the tears away. His hand is warm, and almost like a paw where it cradles your jaw.

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling off your glasses and letting them hang.

“You really do need to eat more though Aaron, the bad guys get fast sometimes.”

Aaron’s thumb drags across the tear streak before he pulls away. He laughs at your attempt at a joke before shaking his head.

“I eat enough, and don’t listen to him okay? The bad guys got nothing on me.” You shake your head.

“I’m still making more, you can’t talk me out of it.” he nods and resigns himself to watching you and making small talk here and there about your kindergartners.

Aaron likes the way you perk up when you mention them.

He knows all about little kids that age, remembers what Jack was like too.

“Louisa’s gotten better at the reading, but calling on her seems mean now. The kids laugh when she can’t get the words right and I can see her tears.” you mumble after some time and he nods.

The dough is proofing and Jack is knocked out cold on the sofa, chocolate staining his lips but it’s no bother.

Not to you, but Aaron might be reaching to clean him up soon.

“Kids can be real jerks.” is what he says as he moves with a wet paper towel to Jack’s face.

He pulls your throw blanket over his little body and mutes the tv.

“It’s all learnt though, that type of thing. It’ll affect her confidence if I never call on her to read, but when I do and she messes up it rattles her anyways.” You get frustrated at the thought.

You try to get all your kids to be nice, but some of them just have a mean streak, or like you said they adopt it.

“Maybe try a different tactic sweetheart. Like on days where there’s less of them, ask her to read.”

Aaron suggests it softly when he notices you coming towards him, and is pleasantly surprised when you walk over to him and sit next to him.

“Maybe.”

Aaron tries to fight the ache in his chest when he feels your breath on his chest from the quarter zip up- it’s no fucking use.

His heart races when you slump and lean further into him.

“You tired?” his voice is soft as he watches your eyes flutter closed. Aaron is adept at staying still, especially when you and Jack move so he’s in Aaron’s lap and your head is tucked into his neck.

“Little bit. Been a long day, kids are energetic.” your words are groggier now and Aaron smiles.

Standing up and moving around you don’t seem as tired as you feel, but now, all warm and seated next to him and Jack, the energy levels have finally reared their real head.

“Take a nap, sweetheart.”

Monday rolls around too quickly, for you and Aaron.

The solace the weekend tends to bring vanishes as the week rolls in hard and fast.

The good thing is though, that the universe seems to be looking down on you and blesses you with a smaller class than normal, and your favourite reader is in.

“Okay, what do we think of a little reading before quiet time?” your class is excited, you’re almost at the end of ‘Alma and How She Got Her name’ and they can’t wait for the final explanation.

“Can we have some volunteers?”

Hands fly up fast, but there’s one hand that’s raised shyly that makes you beam. Louisa gives you a bashful smile when you nod.

“We’ll take turns, Louisa will start and Ben will finish up.”

When she reads there’s no laughing or teasing on words she messes up on, instead there’s soft encouragement from her classmates on the names that are long and accented.

She grins wide when she’s finished and even gets a high five from her seat mate that makes your heart almost burst.

Ben finished up and gets the same help, excited as he reads the final sentence in one big breath.

“You guys are amazing! Let’s go wash up for quiet time.”

You’re happy all till 1pm when you get a call from Aaron.

He’s called once in the times you’ve been neighbours, and that was to tell you Jack came down with the flu so he wouldn’t be coming over for any muffins.

You had still sent though- for when he got better, no other reason.

The anxiety that blooms in your chest has you scrambling to answer, though you cast a careful eye over the kids as they nap.

“Aaron? Is something wrong?” even your words are rushed.

“No nothing’s wrong, sweetheart. I just need a favour.” His words settle your anxiety a little and he can tell when you let out a sigh.

“What’s the favour?” you can already guess.

“Can you pick Jack up from school? I’d ask Jess but she’s away with work and we’re due to go on the jet now.”

Your shoulders tense again, they always do when Aaron mentions going away on cases.

“Of course, how long are you gone for?” You only ask because you need to know if Jack needs clothes.

“A couple days at most, Jack has a key in the front lining of his backpack. No later than 8pm bedtime or else he’s gonna want sugar.” you smile, the mini Hotchner seems the type to like sugar at night.

“Okay, he finishes at 2:30 right?”

“Yeah, he’ll be by the gate. I’m calling his teachers to tell them who’s getting him right after.”

You nod even though he can’t see you. Aaron is a picture of diligence and attentiveness in general, but you think it’s more so due to his job.

“I’ll be on time, these kids get out in half hour. Be careful Aaron.”

He smiles, slow and wide, it’s unbecoming for someone without a crush. David catches him and wiggles his eyebrows before miming kissing himself making Aaron roll his eyes.

“I’ll try my best. Text me when you get home with him, I might still be in the air so calling won’t make any sense.”

“I’ll text you, text me when you land so I know the plane didn’t go up in flames?”

His chuckle makes you smile.

“That’s morbid, you know that?” you huff, you do but it’s an irrational fear. “I will, thanks for getting him.”

“It’s no problem Aaron.”

You’re on time for Jack. To the second. He’s got a bright smile when he sees you, waving excitedly when you flash your id to his teacher.

“You’re getting to spend a couple nights with me,” you greet and Jack nods.

“Dad said so! He’s gone for a couple nights though.” his hands hold three of your fingers as you make your way to your car.

“Yeah, that must be hard huh? We can call him though yeah? Before bed, right?” he nods as you buckle him in.

“We’re gonna keep you not having a booster between us right J?” he giggles madly and nods.

Jack eats easily, finishes his homework well and even showers without fuss, but bedtime is where it gets a bit rough.

You worked on your day plan for tomorrow while he ate but when he comes down looking sullen from his shower you set it back to the side.

“Feeling blue J?” he nods as crawls into your lap.

“Can we call him? It’s almost bedtime.”

“Yeah, we can babe.”

The line rings two times before Aaron answers.

“Hotchner.” comes his voice and Jack smiles sadly.

“Hi dad,” he’s got tears in his eyes and it makes you coo, hand cupping his cheek as you wipe the tears. “Are you okay?”

You can only imagine how Aaron feels at the crack in Jack’s voice.

“I’m okay buddy, are you?” Jack nods, and gives you a small smile.

“Yeah dad, me and y/n had dinner and no dessert ‘cause it’s almost bedtime but maybe something sweet for breakfast.”

Aaron laughs, it’s very like you. You can’t stand having to deny him something sweet, you hate it- Aaron wouldn’t be surprised if you gave Jack an ice cream sandwich just to stop his tears.

“Sounds like a plan buddy. What book did you take for bedtime?”

“The Jungle Book! Mogli’s really interested.”

You giggle, and so does Aaron. “Interesting, J. Mogli’s interesting.”

You talk to Aaron for a bit longer before JJ calls him back to the case.

“Just a couple days, then I’m back home.”

Jack sleeps in bed with you and you learn two things, he’s a cuddler and not a morning person. Not by a long shot.

You fall into a routine though, and Aaron comes back on the fourth day of a near perfect assimilation.

Jack runs to your door the minute the doorbell rings, giddy on his feet when you open it and reveal his dad.

Aaron’s a little battered to his face, but home, so you suppose it’s minor, yet the ache in your chest only lessens a smidge.

“You’re back,” Jack murmurs and Aaron nods, rubbing his back before you gesture him to your living room.

It’s almost eight so Jack’s all ready for bed, but you’re still in your work clothes and Aaron offers a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, I’m back buddy.” Aaron nods at you to your stairs but you shake your head.

He knows what this is before you can even utter a word. He wasn’t supposed to get attached. Not like this, not this fast either.

Neither of you were. You’d assured yourself that the Hotchner men were nothing but friends, but seeing him with cuts and bruises on his face blows that assurance to dust and rubble.

He’s sure there was a broadcast about the whole thing, he’s sure you’ve seen it too. Aaron knows that look in your eyes, he saw it for years.

Jack takes a minute to fall asleep, snug on Aaron’s lap and fingers locked into the jacket of his suit.

When Aaron is sure he won’t wake up he pats the spot beside him on your sofa.

“I am okay,” he says softly, pulling your head to his shoulder and pressing a kiss to your crown. It’s small but it does enough.

“Yeah I know.” your voice is shakier than you mean it to be and Aaron sighs, deep and long.

“It’s not always this physical.” he whispers and you nod, letting your tears coat his jacket’s shoulder pads. “I’ve only broken my nose once.” his joke forces a snort from you as you wipe your face.

“I didn’t realise I’d cry when you came back.” He leans his head back when you reposition, wanting to see your face- even if it’s all splotchy with tears.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Jack does it too, I’m pretty sure my other shoulder’s covered in snot.”

You laugh again and he smiles.

“Go shower, I’ll take him home.” he’s about to get up when you place a hand on his chest.

“Would you mind staying the night? The guest room’s all set up.” your eyes don’t meet his own.

“I wouldn’t mind sweetheart, want me to wait up for you?” you nod almost bashfully and Aaron smiles.

You find Aaron changed into his own set of pyjamas, all one colour, navy blue. Jack’s missing so you assume he’s all snug in the guest bed.

Yours are cream and brown plaid with tiny bears on them.

“Feeling better?” you nod when you sit beside him on the sofa, legs pulled up to your chest as you squish your cheeks to your knees.

Aaron has his ankles crossed and his hands folded across his chest as he looks at you.

He can see the concern all over you. He doesn’t know how to navigate this without his feelings becoming abundantly clear to both of you.

You don’t know what to say without devolving into tears and weeping all over him again.

He doesn’t know how far to keep you because he wants you so close. He needs you close. That much he knows and it’s already dangerous the ferocity with which he wants to give into that.

“I know you can’t talk about it, but does it get easier?” Aaron reaches out for your arm, stroking it silently while he picks his words.

“It depends. Some cases are harder, when they involve kids especially. I don’t know if I ever want to be detached from them though; then I’m not human.”

You nod, understanding what he’s saying.

“It’s strange, when you were gone. I didn’t expect to miss you so much, but then Jack called for you in his sleep that first night and that’s when I realised you were really gone.”

He can’t hold back anymore when the tears recollect in your eyes as they zone in to the cuts on his face.

“C’mere sweetheart.” you’re in his lap with your face tucked into his soft shirt as the tears fall again.

“I’m sorry you missed me.” he whispers, kissing your temple and hugging you tighter when you say,

“It was on the news, an explosion in the street.” Aaron strokes your back till you settle, kissing your temple again before tipping your chin upwards.

“It’s scary to see it on the tv, but I promise I’m all okay. I have a checkup in the morning and then I get the all clear for work.”

You nod and let him wipe your tears, building your courage for a second, before kissing his roughed up cheek softly before pulling away.

Aaron fights the blush that blooms in his cheeks by leaning back and tucking his cheek into his shoulder.

He might never forget the pressure of your lips on his skin.

After a couple beats of silence Aaron watches you lean back on his thighs and pull on your fingers.

“Don’t be mad,” you start to say and he grins.

Aaron couldn’t be mad at you if he even tried. His silence prompts you to continue.

“I’ve got french toast soaking in the fridge for the morning, and blueberry lemon breakfast bars ready to bake for tomorrow too.”

You hide your face in your hands because he’s going to give you that stern Aaron Hotchner look that’ll make you melt a little.

“You’re gonna let him take advantage of you.” he laughs and tugs your hands from your face.

“He didn’t ask for anything! There’s a bake sale tomorrow at school but the french toast was for us.”

Aaron shakes his head and kisses your forehead.

“You’re a doll, you know that?” you giggle madly at his compliment and Aaron sighs, content to have you in his lap smiling again.

“One episode of bake off?” you ask excitedly and he nods.

You don’t move off his lap as you start up the episode, instead you let Aaron pull your throw blanket over your feet as you lay on him.

He enjoys your commentary on the different desserts the contestants are making, listening intently to what you’d do differently or what you’d bake if you went on till you trail off.

Taking a peak to the side, he sees your eyes shut and watches your breathing even out, smiling when your face tucks into his chest.

“Adorable.”

Aaron knows he’s gone, he knows he’s lost all strength to you the moment you mumble his name and grip his shirt like Jack did.

He can’t believe after six months of pining and keeping you at a distance, he lost completely to you after just two weeks of constant interaction.

His body relaxes under you, one sentence stuck in his brain- just two words.

I’m home.

#aaronhotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x black!reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x yn #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fluff #slmhuniverse

358 notes · View notes

maxislvt · 1 year

Note

will u please do a dark! or not wanda x spider reader who gets injured often and how she cares for the reader

warnings: injury, medical stuff

Being in love as an Avenger was difficult, even if your significant other wasn't one themselves. Missions were long and dangerous, some would even require no contact for weeks at a time. Training was tough and the paperwork could become overwhelming. That wasn't to say that it couldn't be done.

You and Wanda were proof that even the toughest conditions couldn't stop love from blooming. When the two of you first met, your identity was a secret. It was a complete accident that Wanda even found out who you were. She was scared for your safety at first. There wasn't a single fight you'd been in that hadn't been recorded and uploaded to the internet a thousand times. You were the Spider-Punk after all. Who wouldn't be dazzled by your super-sonic guitar and acrobatic abilities? For others, watching you fight was a spectacle.

For Wanda it was just plain scary. To her everything was a bruise, a cut, or a concussion and there was almost no comfort in your accelerated healing. Both of you had learned the difference between accelerated and right the hard way. The suggestion to have Bruce look into your crooked finger had been lighthearted, but the examination revealed just how harmful your methods of fighting were. One of your bones was so messed up you needed surgery. The cost financially was nothing to Wanda, it was the emotional part she couldn't handle.

She's become a bit overprotective of you ever sense. It was cute at first, but you couldn't stand coming home at 3am and seeing her wide awake just because she wanted to patch you and replace any bandages. Wanda had a job that was just as dangerous. You couldn't let her lose sleep because you were stupid and got whacked around a bit. That wasn't fair.

So tonight, you did it yourself.

You took a little detour to a pharmacy and bought some bandaids and tried your very best to tend to your wounds. You had definitely taken some hits that a bandaid couldn't fix, so your solution had been to just put on multiple in one area. The adhesive was stuck uncomfortably to your skin, but something was better than nothing. Just nothing wasn't good enough for Wanda.

"Oh, you're home early." Wanda gave you a gentle smile as she placed her book on the nightstand. "Come on, let me patch up. Dinner's already in the oven so we can eat after you take a bath." She reached for your shirt only for you to push her hand away.

You kissed her cheek. "I'm fine, we can just eat dinner." You tugged Wanda towards the dining room but she didn't budge. A frown appeared in your face. "I promise you I'm okay. I didn't even fight anyone today." That was a lie, but Wanda didn't like reading your mind so she wouldn't know. Well, everyone told you that you were a bad lair, but you never lied around Wanda so who would she know?

Wanda raised her eyebrows. You always cracked under the pressure of her states even if you didn't do anything wrong. Even if that didn't work, you always left behind footprints. "Alright. Just give me a hug, I really missed you." Just like that, you'd fallen for her trap. Technically it wasn't a trap because she did miss and wanted a hug. The offer just had some ulterior motives. She wrapped her arms around you tightly and kissed your forehead. "You mean the world to me, you know that?" She softened you up with honeyed words until her hands reached your back pocket. Wanda's hand pulled out a ball of paper. "Is this…are these bandaid wrappers," She asked incredulously. "Don't tell me you tried to patch yourself up with bandaids that had your little logo on it."

You sighed in defeat as you sat on the bed. Embarrassment burned bright red on your face. "Just…just get the medkit." Wanda left you to stew in your own pool of embarrassment while she got the needed tools to patch you up. You peeled off as many of the little bandages before giving up and waiting for Wanda to take them off. "Don't laugh at me…I was trying to not worry you," You grumbled.

Wanda giggled and kissed your shoulder. "Baby, I worry about you because I care about you. Spider-Punk or not." She sat behind you on the bed and started to remove the decorated bandages. Everytime she pulled one off, she kissed your cheek. Then it was followed up with a little 'I love you' or 'You're adorable'. By the time she'd wiped off the adhesive and replaced it with proper bandages, you were nothing but putty in her hands. "Is my little spider ready to shower and eat dinner?"

"That was a really bad way to convince me not to do that again, but yes."

#panther speaks #anon #panthers drabbles #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda fanfic #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff

346 notes · View notes

juno-of-wonderland · 10 months

Note

Hello. I got an idea after listening to these songs - requiem ver chogakusei Alien Stage - sweet dreams. Namely, that Yu has the magic of music (more precisely, magic manifests itself when Yu sings or plays musical instruments, sometimes when he dances). And I would like the guys to catch Yu during one of these actions (dormitory wardens + Jamil). Just imagine how Yu sings requiem and magic begins to appear in the form of flames/shining stars/flowers, etc.)

you brought me some memories and I love ideas involving music, most of my entries are made with a POV playlist and I swear I tried to do it in dorm order, but I was blocked so I wrote who already had one (yes, I I do everything disorganized and then together) and as my limit is 7 characters, I believe you asked to change Kalim for Jamil, if not, just let me know and I'll do his THANKS FOR THE REQUEST

Azul Ashengrotto

-Azul was ending the day and going to his room -but the kitchen lights were on, which made him frown, don't people know how much energy can cost? -as he was approaching, he heard a small voice singing "I travel the world and the seven seas Everybody's looking for something" -he sneaked in to see you and his eyes widened -there you are, washing the dishes, a normal thing, if it weren't for the small bubbles forming around you and the water apparently wanting to come out of the sink -he was certainly stunned for too long for you to stop your work and look at him -you stare at each other in silence -he clears his throat and says he appreciates you staying until everything is finished, but it's already late and he's going to walk you to the mirror -if you act as if nothing had happened or don't know that anything happened, he will understand that tiredness is causing some kind of jock -if you seem nervous, then he knows that what he saw was your secret… that he can use later

Malleus Draconia

-this man loves the night, we all know, but you didn't expect him to show up today -you start singing outside the ramshackle and doing a very small and centered dance -it's not really a dance, it's just a swing -small flowers bloom next to your feet as you says "Sweet dreams are made of this Who am I to disagree" for the second time -and the dragon is watching everything -he is surprised but delighted by your performance, he finds it adorable -he only talks to you when you finish -Malleus asks about your magic with interest, but if you don't want to talk about it, he won't insist, even if it upsets him -please sing him another song

Idia Shroud

-a miracle happened and this man was outside his room -he wanted to play a new game with you -Idia just didn't expect to catch you singing alone in a completely personal and shameful moment -he planned to sneak out, he was really going to do it! but your voice is so jahavsbgsjsbsfgssnj he sounds like an otome boy, stop doing this to him! -you start another song "one vague, misjudged view like a faint flower gone insane " -and that's when he realizes, small spark of fire dancing on top of his head -he leans over from where he was hiding, to get a better look… and ends up tripping and falling -Please don't do anything to him! he didn't want to peep! -if he has the courage to mention what happened while you were singing and you look confused, he will get excited like "I think you unlocked a power because you were brought here like in an isekai… in fact you are already in one isekai" -if you are aware of this ability, it will be your little secret, he will keep this information and fulfill the promise

Vil Schoenheit

-Vil was going to her dorm, to take you on a comparison trip -This man's ears are trained and he doesn't even need to open the door to see that you are singing -he ponders whether he should go or not, he chose to stay and open the door slowly and you sing "if i became a butterfly, so free"

-and look at his surprise when he saw you beaming like a crystal while (trying to) clean -several occasional sparkles and butterfly's swirling around you -you get scared when you see him -"your performance…" Vil begins "it wasn't bad, but I'm disappointed that you hid your magic potato" he's serious -after all, his magic suits you, he wants to know why you don't tell anyone, but he won't be invasive, he will be… subtle

Jamil Viper

-I couldn't think of an excuse for this guy to find you, so let's get to the basics -he was passing in the hallway when he heard his voice coming from an empty room -he pulled up next to the door and heard you sing "Lord, Please when the song is over, save me please My Father, My Universe Take away the small and weak me" -and when he looks at you and literally sees stars dancing with you -this man is bewildered, I think tiredness has finally caught up with him -but he remains silent, without interrupting you, you seem so carefree now, he doesn't want to take away that feeling -At some point he will leave, you won't even notice it -he needs to see this again and make sure it wasn't something in his head

Leona Kingsholar

-Now I Live in Darkness Bring me brightness Show me proof you hear my sound Live in darkness Bring me brightness Show me proof you're here now -His ears twitched at that, why does someone always have to show up at the botanical garden and disturb his sleep? -Leona intended to go back to sleep when he recognized your voice -he decided to sit down and look at the free and private show he was getting -…why are there rose petals surrounding like a hurricane and why are flowers blooming on the bushes? -he remained quiet, his mind loading until you noticed him -this guy has a mischievous smile on his face -"it seems that the herbivore hides several little things, doesn't it?"

Riddle Roseheart

-you had offered to help paint the roses -you were bored and started singing "Sweet Dream, it's today, wait for me I'll go see you soon, woo~woo~woo" along with small movements -a crown of flowers began to form on his head and roses as red as blood surrounded the garden -like when you hear a familiar voice behind you, you even spill paint on yourself -"since…since when can you do this?" -Don't try to pretend you didn't notice -he is willing to listen and help you control this magic better -he thinks what you do is really beautiful…just don't say it out loud

I hope I got the songs you said right

110 notes · View notes

creativesnek · 1 year

Text

Mushroom Foraging Scare

“All right guys! Today, I’m out here with Peach, looking for some tasty mushrooms for dinner.”

Luigi panned the camera stick over him, capturing Peach on the shot. As he continued to film, Peach smiled and waved at the camera, her excitement evident. The sun-dappled forest provided a picturesque backdrop for their mushroom hunting adventure.

"Let's see if we can find some of those delectable chanterelles," Luigi said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. He adjusted his hat and led the way deeper into the woods, with Peach following closely behind.

As they ventured further into the forest, the air became cooler and filled with earthy scents. The ground was covered in a thick carpet of fallen leaves, making each step slightly crunchy under their feet. Luigi's eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any signs of mushroom patches. As they did so, the man thanked the donations and let the comments flow.

The forest is so pretty 😍

New area unlocked

Damn, the dark web theory to mushroom foraging pipeline is REAL

Weeg looks so adorable and excited

Protecc this man at all cost

*SuperBro has donated 1500 bits! I will never understand y u like mushrooms so much🤢*

Luigi smirked at his brother’s words. Mario has always hated mushrooms, even when they were little. If Mama cooked with them, he’d pick them off his plate and give them to Luigi. To this day he finds it ironic, considering Peach is a Toad person. One can see it on the white freckles and reddish cheek that she bloomed from the royal mycelium. In the end, Mario ended up falling for the thing he disliked most and Luigi will never let him live it down.

They continued onwards, stopping every now and then to look over a dead log before moving on. Luigi and Peach were taking their time, enjoying the outdoors and summer breeze. As they ventured deeper into the forest, Luigi and Peach marveled at the vibrant hues of green that surrounded them.

So peaceful…

Do y’all have a club or smth I can join? Kinda wanna get into this🤔

Isn’t this… cannibalism for Peach?

“Peach, you got a question,” said Luigi.

“What?”

Luigi stopped for a moment. “Someone asked if this is cannibalism for you.”

Peach threw her head back and laughed. The question has popped up several times, and honestly it doesn’t bother her. Newcomers are a common occurrence during streams; plus, it was an opportunity to educate people on Toadfolk culture and physiology. Peach jumped over a log, “No, this isn’t cannibalism for me,” she replied with a giggle. “Toads are born from a special and totally different form of mycelium, which is why we’re sentient. Mushrooms, on the other hand, don’t come from this and therefore aren’t sentient or anywhere near close to being my species.”

Luigi adjusted his camera. “Well, Peachie here is born from an even more special mycelium, which is why she looks more like me than normal Toads.”

Ohh ok

Peach just *spawns into existence* 🧍🏽‍♀️

Guys, king oysters 3 o’clock

The green-wearing man’s eyes widened. “King oysters?”

“Where?!”

Luigi looked around, looking for the mushroom patch that the comment mentioned. And lo and behold, there it was to his right. Giggling like school children, the two ran towards it.

THERE THEY GOOO

Freaking dorks, i luv them

Damn they really want those shrooms😂

The two made it to the patch, then dropped to their knees. Luigi angled the camera, making sure he had a proper shot of the beautiful fungi.

Pat the cap

i wanna poke it

By law, Luigi must pat the cap.

*Tao Coffee ☕donated 1000 bits! give pats to the mushroom pls*

“Hold on, lemme double check that they’re safe,” said Peach.

She laid on her stomach, inspecting the fungi before standing up and nodding. Luigi lifted his free hand and proceeded to give the requested pats to the king oyster mushrooms. Cheers and happy emoticons flooded the chat. Luigi set his camera stick down, angled towards them as they started digging some out.

“Oh wow, these are big mushrooms,” he commented.

Peach slowly dug one out and lifted it to the air. “Look at this one! It’s bigger than my hand!”

The two talked back and forth as they collected the mushrooms, exclaiming their excitement.

Still don’t know how tf I got here…

Take a bite out of it

I wanna bite it

Luigi looked at his phone. “I highly recommend not eating raw mushrooms, especially freshly picked ones.”

Peach gasped. “Ohh, how are you going to cook them?”

“I was thinking of sauteeing them and then eating them with rice,” he replied.

The two started suggesting recipes (with the Chat drooling over the suggestion) but were suddenly interrupted by the sound of thunder. They looked up and gasped; the once sunny sky had suddenly turned dark. Luigi dropped the king oysters into a bag, then put them in his backpack. Peach frowned, “That storm’s coming in pretty quickly,” he said.

Luigi nodded in understanding and looked around. In the distance, he noticed an old building, covered in vines and shrubbery. It looked sketchy but it’ll have to do, the storm was rolling in quickly. He grabbed his stuff and made a beeline towards it; Peach followed closely behind. The rain started pouring behind them.

As they approached the dilapidated building, Luigi could feel a sense of unease creeping up his spine. The creaking sound of the rusty gate swinging in the wind added to the eerie atmosphere surrounding them. Despite his reservations, he knew they had no other choice but to seek shelter within its mysterious walls.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, a musty smell filled their nostrils, and their eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior. The room was cluttered with broken furniture and covered in layers of dust, as if it had been abandoned for years.

Sketchy af 🫤

Watch for glass or used needles u guys

Get out. Get outta there.

Hell no, I’d rather stay out in the rain

*SuperBro donated 25 bits! Lu, Peach, keep an eye out.*

Heeding his brother’s and the chat’s words, they found a clean spot to sit and just wait. Bowser would be here soon to pick them up; he most likely noticed the clouds and is already on his way here. Luigi sighed, “Hey, at least we got our haul, right?” he said, trying to sooth the tension. Peach nodded.

An hour passed by. They tried to distract themselves by enjoying the sound of music or answering donation questions. Peach fiddled with her pocket knife, nervously looking around. Suddenly they heard glass breaking. Luigi's eyes widened in fear, his hand instinctively flying to cover his mouth to stifle any noise that might escape.

The group exchanged worried glances, their previous distractions forgotten in an instant. Peach's grip tightened around her pocket knife, her knuckles turning white as she prepared herself for whatever might come next. They had hoped for a peaceful evening, but it seemed fate had other plans.

Then they heard the horrible growl.

RUN

FUCKING RUN

Omg do we call 911???!

dis so fake ong

^^ stfu. 😡

Hey there demons, it’s me ya boi

The duo shot up to their feet and booked it towards an exit, leaving the camera behind. They leaped over debris, screaming.

Someone call King!

King!

He better come get his man

*King donated 1 bit! I’M OUTSIDE!*

They could see headlights from another exit. Peach and Luigi ran out into the rain. A large truck pulled closer. Both recognized it as Bowser’s standard vehicle. Without skipping a beat, they headed towards it as it meant safety. As Peach and Luigi dashed through the pouring rain, their hearts pounded with a mix of fear and determination.

Luigi headed towards the side and frantically got inside, wiping away wet hair from his face. Bowser picked him up by the scruff and pulled him inside further. Peach climbed inside, collapsing across the seats. There was silence except for their pants and the truck’s engine for a few seconds. Bowser touched his face, “Are you okay?!”

“I-I’m okay…”

The concerned Koopa turned to look at the backseats. “Peaches, you good?!”

Peach gave him a weak thumbs-up. Bowser sighed and squeezed his boyfriend’s hand tightly. They took a moment to gather themselves. Peach slowly sat up and moved her ponytail over her shoulder, nervously running her hands through it. Luigi sighed and put his backpack on his lap. Then he froze.

“I left my phone behind.”

Bowser stared straight ahead. Then took off his seatbelt. Luigi went to grab his arm but he got out before he could even touch him. He slammed the door close behind him, “Stay here.”

Peach and Luigi’s protests fell on deaf ears as the large koopa marched inside, smoke trails leaving his nostrils. They watched nervously as the minutes ticked by, fearful of what would happen next. Luigi knew Bowser was fully capable of defending himself, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t worry.

They both jumped and screamed when the car door opened suddenly.

Bowser took his seat, getting comfortable on the custom-made seat fit for his shell. He handed Luigi the camera stick, which he had kept dry. Luigi took it, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. Also, it wasn’t some random crackhead or anything like that; just a bunch of asshole Boos playing pranks.”

The two sighed in relief. Luigi lifted the phone, trying to give the audience a reassuring smile.

He’s alive!

He lives!

Damn, Bowser lookin’ fine in the rain 👀🫦

Weeg, how could u cheatin on King? Disappointed 🙁

Bowser is King, dumbass.😑

The chat continued their expressions of relief (and the occasional bickering) as Luigi stayed on screen. Bowser wiped his hair back, then started the truck again. He also turned on the heater, “Let’s go home before you two catch a cold.”

Luigi smiled at him, “It’s my turn to make dinner.”

“Sounds good to me,” Bowser replied.

#bowuigi #super mario #bowser #luigi x bowser #luigi #fanfic #super luigi #super mario bros #princess peach #streaming #gaming #mushrooms #oneshot

98 notes · View notes

yoonglespringles10 · 1 year

Text

All That We Love | JJK, KMY | Part Two

TITLE: all that we love

PAIRING: jeon jungkook x fem!reader | kim mingyu x fem!reader (jungkook, mingyu and mc are best friends)

GENRE: angst, fluff, best friends to lovers, love triangle, college au, non-idol au

SUMMARY: love blooming from close friendships can both be the most beautiful feeling and the grandest mess ever.

WORD COUNT: 3k words

WARNINGS: love triangle, jungkook is emotionally constipated, mingyu is pathetically in love with mc, everyone's emotions are all over the place, good amount of angst, fluff in the later parts, jungkook and mingyu are athletes (volleyball), mc and mingyu are both sociology students, jungkook majors in music, just to clarify jungkook and mingyu live together and seokjin sometimes crashes over to hang out while mc has her own place.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hiii, i'm back with part two! as i wrote this part i realised that i'm having fun with this story and i think i will be turning it into a proper full-on series of at least 4-5 parts. i tried to explore each character and what their thinking individually in this one. i hope you guys like it, would love to hear your feedback so keep leaving comments!!

also, are you team jungkook or team mingyu? comment down, i'm curious to know!!!!

lowercase is intended

TAGLIST IS OPEN, COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TO BE ON IT!

Series Masterlist

Previous Part | Next Part

--------------------------------------------------------

"what did you just say?" jungkook says from behind you, his voice loud but shaky.

you feel your heart stop at that moment, you don't know what to do. all this time you have been doing everything in your power to not ruin your friendship. all it took was this one slip-up. you're actually fucked. a small whimper leaves your mouth, only loud enough for mingyu to hear as you hug him tighter. you feel like the moment you let him go, your entire world is going to shatter into pieces.

mingyu looks at jungkook. he can see that jungkook is clearly extremely shocked to hear the words that have just left your mouth. "y/n, love, you have to talk to him. i know you're scared, but it's jungkook. i promise this won't ruin anything. go and talk to him, it'll be okay." mingyu whispers in your ear. he rubs your back in order to provide some comfort to you. even though he feels like someone's ripping his heart out of his chest as he's himself willingly sending you to jungkook, he just wants you to be okay. he doesn't know what the outcome is going to be of this conversation and he despises that it could go either way. but he knows you need it.

carefully, he unwraps his arms from around you and slowly takes a step back, "go talk to him. i'll go keep chaewon company in the meantime." he says and you look at him as if you're begging him to stay. it takes everything in him to not just take you back in his arms and take you away from the fair, away from jungkook. once again, mingyu decides to be the bigger person, at the cost of his own heart. he makes his way out of the parking lot, crossing jungkook. he stops when he's face to face with him. he asks him where chaewon is and jungkook points towards the washroom. mingyu nods, "kook, please be gentle with her." he pleads. jungkook's expression softens a little bit and he nods slightly before he turns his attention back to you.

you watch the whole interaction between your two best friends, you can't hear them but you see the way jungkook relaxes a little bit after mingyu says whatever he says to him. however, once mingyu's left the area, you can't help but feel like your safety net's gone. your heart begins to thump loudly again as you see jungkook walking towards you. you look down when he stops right in front of you, unable to look him in the eye.

"y/n? please look at me." jungkook pleads in a small voice. you can tell he's scared too. slowly you raise your head to look at him, your eyes meeting with one another.

"i'm sorry, kook." you whisper in the most pained voice jungkook's ever heard. tears begin to stream down your face again. jungkook wants to take a step toward you, he wants to comfort you, he wants to tell you that it's going to be alright. but he can't. not when he himself can't be sure of a single thing at the moment.

"y/n, what were you saying to mingyu? is it true? do you really..." it hurts you that jungkook can't even bring himself to finish the sentence. you realise that this is it, you have to tell him. you always imagined confessing to him before, but never did it even cross your mind that it would be under these circumstances. when he would already be a taken man.

you take a deep breath to calm yourself down. you need to tell him. it's the only way to find closure. as much as it hurts, you know you have to, "i'm sorry jungkook, but yes. i love you. i never wanted it to come out like this. you really weren't supposed to hear that. i'm very sorry but i cannot help it though. i've tried so hard to get over you but it feels nearly impossible. i completely understand if you don't want to talk to me after this, but i can't run away from reality anymore. i have been in love with you for as long as i can remember." you start scared but as you speak, your voice gains confidence you didn't know you had. this is your truth and as you finally admit it to jungkook, you realise that there's no point in running away from it.

jungkook seems visibly conflicted to you. there are a mix of so many emotions on his beautiful face. you've known him for so long, you can usually read him like an open book. today, however, you can't for the life of you, understand what he's thinking. after what feels like an eternity he finally speaks, "i don't know what to say, y/n. you know that i'm in a relationship already and i'm very happy." he says in a very soft and apologetic tone. he looks guilty for having to do this to you.

you had been almost 99% sure that jungkook's reaction was going to be like this. you know he's happy with chaewon, you're aware. but that 1% in you still hoped. you don't know why but it did. and now that reality is slapping you in the face, you feel like you want the ground to crack open and swallow you in. you can't bring yourself to say anything and jungkook senses it, so he continues, "y/n, i am so sorry. i really didn't know you felt this way about me. but i-i can't you know, i'm really sor-"

"jungkook it's okay, i know you don't feel the same about me. you don't have to explain yourself. i respect your feelings and i don't want to make things uncomfortable between us, i never wanted that to begin with. above everything, you're my best friend and i want you to be happy. you don't have to worry about me, i'll be okay. so please, let's just forget about this and let things go back to how they were. please pretend that you never heard what i said and i promise you i'll try my best to get over you. trust me, i'm okay with us just being friends. i really don't want to lose you." you try your best to save yourself from hearing jungkook verbally reject you.

"y/n, are you sure? i really don't want to be the one who's hurt you. you're my best friend. i want to be there for you." jungkook says. he feels like he's in a fever dream. this doesn't seem real to him. his mind is frazzled and he feels frustrated that he can't even comfort you properly. he doesn't know how to when he's the one who's been causing you so much pain without even knowing.

how did he never see it? how did he not know about your feelings at all when he spent almost every waking moment with you and mingyu? was he that stupid? he's so taken aback by the fact that you have romantic feelings for him that he's unable to find the right words to say to you.

"jungkook, i'm fine. i'll be okay i promise. just i need some space for a while please. i don't think i can see you for a few days, i'm sorry. i need some time to get my shit together and i'll be back to normal in no time i swear." you watch as jungkook's expression turns into one of hurt and sadness before you even finish your sentence. this is definitely not how you had imagined your night would go. he looks as if he wants to fight back but then within a second his firm stance falters. he exhales loudly in defeat and nods, looking down.

"i understand," is all he says.

at this point, your emotions are all over the place so you don't know how you do it without breaking down completely but you walk up to him and give him a hug. "we're going to be okay, kook. i'm sorry for doing this." and with that you press a light kiss on his cheek, savouring the moment. you whisper a small 'bye' before you leave, not daring to look back at him. which is why you miss the small tear that escapes jungkook's eyes.

you're almost out of the fair's premises when you hear footsteps behind you. just for a split second, the more vulnerable part of your brain makes you think that it might be jungkook, who has finally realised that he likes you back and wants to be together. but of course, that's far from the reality. instead you turn around to find mingyu. he comes up to you and puts an arm around your shoulder as he starts walking beside you.

"let's get you home, my love," he says.

--------------------

"y/n come on, you have to come. i'm not taking no for an answer." mingyu pleads on the phone and you roll your eyes.

"i know you're rolling your eyes, you know that's not going to make me stop. you've been holed up in your place for 2000 years now you have to get out!" he exclaims in frustration.

“don’t be dramatic, gyu. i’m just taking some time to do self care. it’s me time.” you speak into the phone.

“well, i don’t care. you need to get out of the house, you haven't even been attending classes lately. you've missed out on so many assignments. now, i’m coming over in an hour and i need you to be ready by then. bye,” and the line gets cut.

it has been more than three weeks since the horrendous, most embarrassing day of your life. you got rejected by your own best friend and it genuinely felt like your heart was stomped upon. mingyu wasn’t wrong on the call, you have barely left your house since then. you want to avoid jungkook at all costs, you don’t want him to see how pathetic your “getting your shit together” process has been. you simply can’t get over your feelings for him no matter how hard you try. you yourself can feel how much your usual cheerful self has turned into a dull, grey lump of sadness.

you also feel frustrated with yourself, if only you had masked your feelings that day too like you usually do. then you wouldn’t be in this position. you would be hanging out at jungkook and mingyu’s place, joking around with them as per usual. it’s like a big, dark scary cloud of sadness constantly looms over you. you never thought heartbreak would have such a big affect on you.

you let out a loud groan before you get out of bed to get ready. you know mingyu is a man on a mission and he won’t stop today until he takes you out. there is apparently this new cafe that's just opened up nearby and he wants to try their desserts. you hate that mingyu's right. you do need to get out of the house. you definitely can't miss out on any more classes. you sigh as you hop inside the shower. hopefully, going out makes you feel better.

across the road mingyu and jungkook are sitting at the dining table in their shared apartment, silently eating breakfast. jungkook has noticed that mingyu has gotten ready and he figures that he's probably going to see you. jungkook wonders how you've been, he wants to ask mingyu but he's scared of the answer. you looked absolutely distraught that day at the fair. it upsets jungkook so much that even though it was never intentional, he's still become the reason you're hurting. now that he's had more than a few days to process everything that has happened, he realises how the signs were almost always there. he just never paid attention to them.

he never even stopped to think about how he felt about you, not as a friend but as a girl. he always assumed that since all three of you have been childhood friends, it has to stay platonic. never did he dare to even think about crossing that boundary. this was the reason why he was so shocked to learn that you were in love with him. it's still hard for him to fully process this information. so far all he knows is that no matter what, he does not want to lose you. maybe he can't love you the way you want him to but that does not mean he does not care for you.

jungkook clears his throat to catch mingyu's attention, "uh, are you going to see y/n?" he asks nervously. mingyu nods, "yeah, i'm trying to take her out today. lord knows the girl needs fresh air."

"how is she doing?" jungkook inquires. this is the first time he's asked about you in almost four weeks. finally, mingyu thinks. he had dealt with jungkook skirting around inquiring about you for days now, he knew that he wanted to ask about you but was so taken aback by the whole ordeal that he couldn't bring himself to. which is why mingyu feels a weird sense of relief now that jungkook's finally touched the topic.

he exhales and turns around to look at jungkook, "i'm not going to lie to you, man it's been hard for her, but she's trying her best." he pauses as if contemplating if he should say what he says next, "she really likes you, jungkook. so much that she's willing to let her heart break just so she can have you in her life. in any form you want." he says. after hearing mingyu, jungkook feels like he’s unable to breathe, he feels suffocated. his emotions are yet again all over the place. he feels restless, like he’s been left alone out in the middle of an ocean where there is no land in sight. where there’s nothing in his control.

he takes a deep breath and puts his head in his hands, but in the process something clicks. he raises his head abruptly and looks at mingyu, “and what about you?”

mingyu is taken by surprise, he hadn't anticipated that to be what jungkook would say.

"w-what about me?" he stutters, hesitantly. he thinks he has an idea about what jungkook means but it still confuses him as to how jungkook would know.

"come on, gyu, literally everyone and their mother knows that you have feelings for y/n." jungkook is quick to overlook the subtle bitterness the sentence leaves in his mouth.

"i-i don't know what you're talking about," and suddenly it's hard for him to even meet jungkook's eyes.

"you don't have to admit it to me it's okay, i've known it for a very long time though. the real question is, does y/n know?" jungkook asks.

mingyu sighs, there's no point in denying it. "no she doesn't and i don't plan on telling her anytime soon so keep your mouth shut. she's already going to through a lot," jungkook looks down in guilt.

"anyway, i'm leaving now. i'm getting late." mingyu isn't getting late. in fact, he is 10 minutes early but he needs to get out of the house before this conversation goes any further.

"but-"

"okay, bye!"

---------------------

"this tea is actually really good!" you beam with contentment. turns out mingyu was right, you really needed this outing. you feel better after stepping out of the house, getting some fresh air, and having a nice, cold matcha bubble tea.

"ah, i'm amazing yeah? you get to enjoy this lovely tea all because of me," mingyu smirks playfully.

you roll your eyes and scoff, "yeah yeah, whatever," as you lean forward to take a bite out of his lemon tart.

usually he would slap your hand away and complain that you always eat his food, but today. today, mingyu watches you with a smile on his face. he's glad to see you finally be at least 40% of your usual self. for the past almost one month, he had given his everything to make you feel better. of course, he did it willingly and not out of any compulsion. he was there at your doorsteps almost every day with everything you would need from a giant tub of cookies and cream ice cream to a bigger tub of fried chicken. he spent hours watching every marvel movie with you, even though he's not interested in the superhero franchise even one bit (well, now that he's seen infinity war, the case is different). most of all, he spent hours listening to you vent about how much you love jungkook and how your heart's been crushed, if only you knew how much he could relate to you.

so now that you're in front of him, smiling genuinely after so many days, he feels elated.

"why are you looking at me like that?" you notice how he's been just staring at you for a while now. your question brings him out of his stupor.

"nothing, i'm just happy to see you like this." his tone still sounds a bit dazed. you smile at him as you take another sip of your drink.

"ah, you cheeseball. don't be embarrassing," you say with a playful tone. you see that his smile just widens and he lets out a small laugh but continues you look at you, his eyes showing something you can't pinpoint.

"thanks, gyu. you played a big role in me feeling better. i really appreciate you being there for me. love you." you continue to speak but this time with sincerity.

"i love you too." mingyu replies, staring directly into your eyes. you were right, something's different, and maybe, just maybe you can tell what it is. for the first time, the look in mingyu's eyes is not one of friendly adoration. it's something more, and it scares you.

but what scares you more is the fact that you don't exactly hate it.

--------------------

thanks for reading!!

TAGLIST

@jungkooksseuphoria @nawrnonope

61 notes · View notes

skyred-blog · 3 months

Text

My headcanon story of the DLC

See people share their headcanon stories of DLC, I wanted to share mine too...Let's me cook, don't stop meeeeee:

The Caelid battle happens because Miquella believed that if the stars moved, he could become a god and fix things in the Lands Between, given his status as an Empyrean destined to become a god

Malenia came to Caelid to fight while Miquella stayed in Haligtree because the tree needed his body and who would bring a child to battle? However, Miquella wanted his sister to be safe, so he appeared as St. Trina in her and her soldiers' dreams to ease their pain from rot just like how she eased the Frenzy Flame

And when Malenia let the Scarlet Aeonia bloom, St. Trina caused her to slumber. Because St. Trina only appeared in dreams, Finlay was still the only one who could help Malenia at that moment. Freyja wasn't cured by Miquella; instead, she was left alone on the battlefield. In a state of desperation because of pain and hunger not Fear and Hunger, she somehow ate the ingredients of Boluses, which is how she got cured truly a Masterchief moment! and that is how we have Boluses. Yes, I'm still very salty about the fact that Miquella appeared in Caelid only to do nothing for his sister or her soldiers. Freyja wanted to revenge for her general so she went to LoS like the cut content of 1.0

Seeing Malenia and Radahn's rot states and remembering his failure to help Godwyn, Miquella became depressed and decided he would do anything to become a god.

Then Miquella got kidnapped by Mohg, but Miquella decided to use his power to activate his trap card. Get rekt, Mohg. Yes, I don't think someone who created a Blood cult and kingdom can be a cute little Omen, right? Anbasch is angry. Cut the body part, leaving only Miquella needing Mohg for the LoS.

Even though he was able to go to the LoS, Miquella is useless even worse than Ranni. So somehow our Tarnished goes around and sees him. FRIENDSHIP! at first. He still charmed the NPCs except Tarnished because you were chosen by Torrent.

Something something happened, god ritual or some shit so Miquella decided to cut himself. Our Tarnished is okay with everything because Miquella said he's okay, but he isn't. Basically, every self-harm act he does in public makes the group of NPCs think he's so determined and hardcore. Suddenly, he became extremely cruel, like killing poor Rot people because he thought they caused Malenia's pain instead of listening to their stories like he used to with other NPCs. We don't know why, but thanks to Tholier's feelings, we discover that he secretly cut St. Trina in the end and threw her away

So, in the end, Miquella becomes a god, but at the cost of becoming an empty vessel for every Outer God to use. He's simultaneously all-powerful and weak, which contrasts with his ability to create Unalloyed Gold, used against Outer Gods. He asks the Tarnished for help, offering the Lord title as a reward.

Seeing Miquella's unstable and pathetic state, we decided to finish him in battle. Miquella would use incantations of every Gods and summons spirits akin to O'Neil. After he was dead, memories flood back of the happy times with his family even before Messmer going to LoS, which means it will include Messmer, Melina, Godwyn, the Carian trio, Malenia, and even glimpses of Morgott and Mohg from afar. All he wanted was to experience happiness like a normal child.

#I know I cook too much it burns the Erdtree but hey #it means we don't need the consort thing #miquella the unalloyed #please ignore this #tbh i just wanted to make malenia a better person lmao #English is not my language so....

11 notes · View notes

birgittesilverbae · 1 year

Note

thinking about babea au and beatrice taking ava home to mary’s apartment the first time for a movie night. standing in the grocery store with mary live-texting the ensuing Gay Overplanning to shannon

(these, softer days. shannon still trying hard to reconnect, fighting the scar tissue on her back as she moves through her bō forms and bea soft-stepping into the secluded courtyard to make light, but expressionless suggestions. bea having read about therapeutic matial arts, learning to move around injuries, the half-charred bones in shannon’s back, the times she has to take her crutches back out of the closet. shannon crying privately in the bathroom mirror when she finds two old stickers from the star wars books she found for bea in a discount store years and years ago. a sticker of darth vader on one crutch and c3po on the other. bea’s queer thinking and the articles she has downloaded on disability in sci-fi, how she’ll get cross about it if you press)

(they’re learning to love each other again)

bea in the snack aisle doing the social equivalent of quantum mathematics trying to guess what snacks ava wants. nothing with apple. does she prefer savoury or sweet or bitter or-

mary sending bea off into the attached clothing section with a €10 note to get her new socks while mary pays for €50 worth of sugar, hoping bea will be too distracted to do the easy math & guess what it costs. she could use the ocs card but she doesn’t. wants to give this to bea. like she paid for the takeout on her first at-home visit with lilith. because this is her kid on a tragic technicality.

picking ava up in one of the ocs vans and bea kind of shivering with anticipation on the way, mary swatting her with the sleeve of her hoodie while they idle in traffic like ‘cheer up. we’re not in your stupid emily dickinson poem.’

bea obligingly saying, ‘because i could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me. the carriage held but just ourselves, and immortality.’

‘thanks, nerd.’

but it calms her, and she’s all smiles when they collect ava, an older ocs sister leaning in and tracing a cross onto bea’s forehead as she stands waiting with ava in the foyer. it’s not uncomfortable, just the blessing you give to someone much younger. for a nun it’s like saying ‘good luck.’

at home with the mound of snacks and ava laughing at it all, but summoning bea down to kiss her cheek. ‘thanks bea. for the thought.’

(ava who has so seldom been thought of in her life)

‘what are we watching?’

‘oh, whatever you want. i have most blockbusters from the last 38 years.’

‘oddly specific but okay.’

bea blushing like, ‘i was going year-by-year and then it was time for morning drills.’

they watch jurassic park because ava loves dinosaurs, and bea’s read her the novels, and of course bea’s like, ‘did you know that one day before the release of this film scientists actually published a paper about a weevil preserved in resin, whose remains offered up what researchers believed were the oldest strands of DNA ever recovered? amber can preserve intracellular structures.’

‘they really did visit laboratories when they designed some of these sets.’

‘it’s an interesting commentary on how our best human ventures can be corrupted by imagination. if we recreated dinasaurs they would look different. usually fossilisation destroys DNA though.’

‘the idea that they collected so much data on species from amber so quickly is quite outlandish.’

bea falling asleep towards the end of the movie because she’s been up since dawn. little bruise blooming on her chin from a hook kick demonstrated a little too enthusiastically by one of the trainees. mary coming in to see ava not watching the last few scenes, just watching bea in the low light, half-draped in a quilt, wearing her oversize green hoodie and pyjama bottoms.

and I'm like "No! That's the thing I'm SENSITIVE ABOUT!"

#ask #'anon'#babea au #warrior nun #my fried rice brain taking repeated direct hits #ava x beatrice #avatrice

91 notes · View notes

rosieofcorona · 7 months

Text

In the Blue Morning

BELOVEDS, a soft little Solavellan fic for you. Mostly fluff this time around to soothe the eternal, unyielding hurt. Also on AO3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕

She cajoles him, some mornings, away from his office, from his maps and his books and his paintings and out among the newly-planted gardens, all their tight, unfurling blooms.

It’s always empty at this hour, when most of Skyhold is still asleep save for the guards in their high towers, the recruits in the practice yard. The only sound is the clang of their swords ringing through the mist like distant bells, the only light the pink and gold of the nascent sun.

It is only in the narrow, muted hours before dawn that Solas weaves his fingers with hers as they orbit the courtyard, side by side.

“Gail’lealis,” he says, pointing out an elegant bellflower, its blue-white petals bundled tightly in green sepals.

It sounds off, even to her ear, when she says, “Ga’lealis,” back.

They pause for a moment, and Solas turns and bends and plucks an early bloom from the same plant, rotating it slowly between his fingers, holding it up for examination.

“Ga-il,” he repeats softly, separating the sounds. “Meaning ‘bell,’ in the common parlance.”

“Ga-il,” she says again, correctly this time.

“Followed by lealis, meaning ‘glass.’”

“Gail’lealis.”

But the light keeps coming, every moment. The castle will wake, and they will see.

And this will cost them, in the end.

She is pink as the sky when they finally come apart, and continue their long walk around.

“I hear you were out here yesterday,” she says, breaking the silence as they turn a corner. “Cullen says you beat him soundly at chess.”

“It was a closer game than he thinks,” Solas says, but she has learned when he’s just being modest.

“Must not have been that close, because Bull says the same. As do Blackwall, and Varric, and Dorian, though he swears that you cheated.” “I did no such thing!”

When they turn again, the chessboard in question comes into full view, set and waiting on its table beneath an awning.

“He seemed very certain,” she shrugs. “Though I suppose I could find out for myself.”

They stop again before the table, and Solas looks at her intently. “Is that a challenge, dear Inquisitor?”

“That depends on your level of skill.”

She’s teasing him now, enticing him, a dynamic he’s come to enjoy. There are so few who impress him with thoughtfulness, who make him work at being clever.

“Very well, but you should know that I am merciless,” he warns, a contradiction to the chivalry of pulling out her chair. “Even to one I love.”

He takes the seat opposite her, the board and the pieces adorned in glittering dew.

“I believe the Lady Inquisitor moves first.”

**********

“Again?” She asks cheerfully, when they’ve finished. Already she is freeing her captives from his end of the table. “Don’t look so stunned, my love. Unless you’re trying to offend me.”

“Forgive me, vhenan,” he says, shaking his head. “You surprise me as always. It is rare to find an opponent so…discerning.”

His beloved laughs with the morning breeze, a sound like air that surrounds and envelops him.

“Rare to find one you can’t beat, you mean.”

Solas leans thoughtfully back in his chair, replaying their game in his mind. No matter how he tries to beat her, he finds no way through. She sees his scheming, sees him coming, cuts him off.

“Why did you not take my queen, given the chance?”

“Because you gave me the chance,” she reasons. “You wouldn’t do that except to win.”

“Mm,” Solas nods his approval. “You’ve become quite the strategist. Have you been spending time with our Commander?”

“I’ve been spending time with you,” she counters. “Learning all your little tricks.”

Not all, it occurs to him, but Solas smothers the thought with a laugh. “It seems to me you have a few of your own.”

“Our Keeper used to call me harellan,” she tells him. “Trickster. Though I needn’t explain that to you.”

He fights to keep the easy expression on his face, feeling suddenly caught in the snare of her gaze, as if she sees directly through him, sees him fully, all he is.

Harellan, his mind echoes. How could she know?

No, he decides. She does not know. She only means he knows the word.

Solas mirrors her opening move, their pawns face to face on the battlefield. “And still, your Keeper named you her First.”

“I was more troublesome as a child,” she says, with a grin that implies that the mischief has never left her. “I’ve settled down a great deal since. Can’t you tell?”

55 notes · View notes