alistair is such a funny character. hilarious. a perfect embodiment of campy fantasy writing. he's the lost son of a legendary king. he is a member of a legendary world-saving order where very few survive. he has a bloodline curse and a bloodline blessing. he is half human, half elf, and also there's some dragon in there. he is in prophecies. he is one of the saviors of the world. he can communicate with darkspawn. he is skilled with sword and shield. he can counter magic without lyrium. he's even potentially the biological father of a reincarnated old god.
and meanwhile his personality is basically just "hey... i popped a pimple on my shoulder the other day and i'm a little worried about it... please stop laughing can you just look at it... isn't it a little, y'know, weepy?... no i haven't been picking at it... ... ...oh that's what picking means? then yeah i suppose i have... okay okay i'll stop picking at it... sometimes it looks like it's come back though... okay i'll leave it alone... are you sure it's okay? ... positive? ... okay, thanks... ... ... i'm still making an appointment with the healer tomorrow."
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the warmth of love. sae itoshi x reader. fluff. (my comeback era!?)
"i have no idea why your apartment always runs so cold, sae."
he scoffs at your words, raising an eyebrow at the way you're quivering so much. it's almost as if you haven't been anywhere cold before. how cute–
he shakes the rest of his thoughts away, banishing them from every nook and cranny of his mind. he doesn't like the way you make him feel. he's riding high on the wave of you, he thinks, because now he can't even do anything properly without you occupying his mind like a parasite.
(hypothetically, though. you would be the only parasite he would let consume his soul inside out, metaphorically and emotionally.)
sae frowns. "it's really not that bad. you're exagerrating so much, y'know. what is this, an elaborate ploy for me to give you my hoodie, or something?"
(he would've done it in a heartbeat if you asked. both of you knew it–) somehow, you still muster enough decency to roll your eyes and treat his words as a joke.
"actually, i wanted you to turn up the thermostat. but i highly doubt you'll be able to survive the heat, mr lukewarm."
his only response was to place his ice-cold fingers around your neck, making you squirm from the massive gap between his hands and your natural body temperature. he supposes you are a lot warmer than he is– emotionally and biologically.
he raises an eyebrow at your overly-dramatic reaction of thrashing around, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "say that again, i dare you."
"okay, mr lukewarm."
sae hates that nickname– yet somehow, everything coming from you seems a lot better. softer, as if thawing his cold heart.
he makes a show of walking over to the thermostat of his home. your protests (pleas, really–) appear to fall upon deaf ears.
neither of you comment on the way he wordlessly sticks closer to you on the couch, nor your body stops shivering.
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