#this is longer than i meant for it to be but im thinkin abt him :(

[nonranghaes]

heads up! long distance relationships.

most of the time, you see sleepy minho because you called him in the middle of the night (for him). so when he calls you, you immediately think that something's wrong until you see his dimly lit face, all snuggled up in his blankets. he turns over once you pick up, eyes squinting in the low light.

"hey... everything okay?" you ask after a moment, pressing one of your earbuds further into your ear. you can't hear any of his cats, just the soft whirring of a small fan. "minho?"

"missed you." his voice is laced with sleep and soft, but you can hear it clearly. the sound of blankets shifting around him fills your ears, and he pulls the blankets back in closer. "that's all."

ah. you have sleepy, sappy minho now. sometimes you think you're usually the one who gets all mushy and emotional when you're away from one another for too long (it's always too long, to be fair)... but minho has his moments. always when he's sleepy, though: as if he thinks he needs to hold it together for the both of you. this always happens when the two of you are too busy to video call for a little bit. you smile a little, though, and watch as he runs a hand through his fluffy hair.

"cuddle with soonie."

he whines. "that's not the same." again, he curls up tighter in bed. "just... come see me."

"minho--"

"i know," he says, voice clearer. less asleep. "i just... i want you here. i'm tired of waking up with doongie's ass in my face because he's hungry instead of seeing you."

"i don't think me being there would stop doongie."

another groan. "i just--i miss you. i wanted to see your face again. send me more pictures."

"i will," you promise. "of what?"

"just... you. doing stuff. getting coffee or whatever. i just miss seeing your stupid face." he huffs.

"oh, so now my face is stupid, huh?" you're enjoying teasing him the way he teases you. you've called his handsome face dumb plenty of times, after all, and he always asks what it makes you that you love his dumb face so much.

"if i'm your dummy, you're my dummy," he says a moment later. "that's how this works."

you smile to yourself again, and see the way his eyes light up a little. he loves you. it's always clearest in moments like these: his eyes, the subtle smile he always has, the fact he's calling you in the middle of the night...

"we'll talk about this later, okay?" you say. you can't look at your bank info right now--and you'd rather not make minho look at his when he's like this. "i've gotta go back to work."

he just groans again, clearly annoyed. "just run away."

"don't tempt me." you smile, and blow a kiss at your camera. "we'll figure it out. love you. goodnight."

he mumbles the same, and the last thing you see before you send the call is his sleepy, smiling face.

soon, you promise yourself for the millionth time since you started dating minho. soon you'll figure it all out.

[flokali]

lmao so im completely shameless and a sucker for physical intimacy so ive been thinkin abt darling just having childe or kaeya sit on the floor while theyre in a chair and them just. slinging their legs over his shoulders as they do other work ?? they meant it as a friendly gesture to make him happy but also he might b drooling when they gently press their thighs against his head -💉

Slight NS_FT

No, because this ask has completely rotted my brain… Kaeya and Childe are such prevs they’d turn the most innocent of actions into fantasy material… little gross men </3

Warnings: Yandere, GN! reader, God! reader, talks of religion, obsessive behavior/mindset, mentions of murder/death (by thighs/legs), perv! Childe, perv! Kaeya, masochistic tendencies? (especially on Childe’s part), implied sub!character x dom!reader dynamics,

The rest of the ask is under the read more!

— Kaeya

You’d only called for Kaeya’s assistance since Lisa wasn’t around to help you like she normally would; you were in the library just looking for some books to pass time – being under constant surveillance by some of the most protective people in Teyvat often led to your activities being restricted for your “safety”.

He’d been more than happy to drop what he was doing (which honestly was him preparing to go bother Diluc for the afternoon) to come to your aid. He’d teased you a bit, joking about how much you needed him - probably to try and distract from the obvious blush in his face the longer he spent time with you - but eventually helped you find some books about Teyvat’s mythology and history, both subjects that has greatly interested you since long before arriving.

He insists you read yourself, saying something amongst the lines of “I’m too tired, but if you want - I’m more than happy to listen to you reading it for me” though you’re inclined to believe he simply wanted the chance to silently stare at you, a guess that came from the fact that current that was exactly what he was doing.

You found it weird that he didn’t seem to sit down, opting to stand tall and proud beside you, you’d insisted he take the seat beside you but he refused - that is, until you gesture to one of the pillows on the ground, one that found itself laying just between your legs and the plush chair your rested upon.

“Why don’t you sit there if you’ve got such a problem with chairs?” It was partially a joke, you didn’t think he’d rather sit on the ground than an actual chair, and a last ditch attempt to have him sit down somewhere (because heaven knows how much it stressed you out to see him just standing there on the side, didn’t his feet hurt? Wasn’t his back tired? He’d been there unmoving for at least half an hour), you didn’t think he’d silently take the seat beneath your own and sweetly smile up at you.

“Probably the best seat in the house,” he muses, looking around between your legs as his eye twinkled with admiration while he stared at your shocked expression, “come on, you invited me over - don’t tell me you didn’t mean it?”

“Haha, very funny, Sir Kaeya.��� You roll your eyes, hiding your face into the book - hoping the cover would be enough to hide the embarrassed look in your face - it’s not your fault he makes you flustered.

He simply laughs, finding your newfound embarrassment amusing, and lets his head hit the edge of the cushioned seat almost touching your skin, as if afraid of defiling you with his touch - “I’m not bothering you, am I?” He asks, his eyes closed, realizing he might be taking too much space for your legs to properly rest.

“Hmm, not really,” you think, your legs were a bit cramped up from earlier, you look down upon the man sitting beneath you, “but it’s fixable.”

You test the waters and let your legs rest upon his shoulders before simply letting them drape over his upper body - he doesn’t react much, simply stiffening at the contact before slowly relaxing - “You don’t mind, do you?” You tease, ready to move your legs in case he asks you to.

“N-not at all.” He coughs into his hand and it’s your turn to be amused at his sudden shyness; did you hear it right? Had Kaeya, the Kaeya Alberich, just stuttered? You go to remove your legs, shocked at the realization, but his hands shoot up to grasp at your thighs; “Don’t! I… I mean, you don’t have to, I’m fine… unless you want to, then it’s… fine too.”

You smile slightly, but opt not to tease him too much - not when you feel him hesitantly lay his cheeks against your skin, caressing your legs with such tenderness you struggle to believe this is the same man who’d slaughtered hundreds of his people, your eyes visibly saddened at the idea.

What a troubled soul, you muse while letting your body limp against him, you remember all you’d heard about his past and lore and your heart aches and so you make a promise to yourself to try and spend more time with him.

If only you knew, that while you worried and pondered over his past - the Cavalry Captain was all but drooling over the way your legs squeezed his cheeks. You would be surprised at how hard it was to contain the moan itching to rise from his throat when he felt your legs first find his body, if he could - he’d turn around and kiss your feet, let his hands wander your sacred skin while he proclaimed how grateful he was for you and your love, but he didn’t want to ruin such a peaceful moment. All you had to do was squeeze your legs and decide to restrict his airflow with your thighs and he’d be a goner, dead - no longer alive, but he didn’t mind at all - he’d rather die at your hands (legs) than die any other way, he wants to laugh at the thought.

His heart was beating a thousand miles an hour, he could hardly contain the excitement crawling all over his body the longer his skin touched yours. It felt electrifying, a buzz stronger than even Dawn’s Winery’s finest alcohol couldn’t compare to. If anyone looked at him, they’d think he was edging himself just by the lewd look that took over his handsome features.

For now, he’d keep these thoughts to himself - simply hoping you’d been so kind as to help him later with his little problem, courtesy of your unknown effects on the Khaenri’ahn.

….

— Childe

Your time in Liyue was coming to an end, you’d soon be embarking on the Crux to visit the Raiden Shogun and her region, Inazuma, which meant the last few days had been hectic as Zhongli and other residents of Liyue attempted to make the most of your time there before you left.

You’d managed to sneak off and find yourself some time, your head was pounding and your legs ache after hours of nonstop walking, you had originally meant for it to be just yourself - a well deserved break after the last torturous days - but it doesn’t take long for the Snezhnayan diplomat, Ajax, to find you - much to your… in reality, you were too sleepy and tired to try and feel annoyed or irritated.

“Ended up running away, huh?” He laughs, making his way towards you - your figure was almost completely hidden by an oversized blanket in the cushioned chair you laid upon, “You should be more careful, you almost had Lady Ningguang send out a search party for you.”

“Mmhm?” You groan, you vaguely acknowledge his words - your body was exhausted and your mind felt like soft putty; you just wanted to sleep and not wake up for the following week or two.

“They really ran you out…” He muses, a pitiful look takes over his face as he assesses your fatigued state, “Care to make some room?”

He originally meant for you to scoot over so he could cuddle you, it was basically a death wish - if Xiao or Scaramouche found him snuggled up to your sleeping he would probably end up dead and floating in the shore of Liyue Harbor by dawn, but it seems like your position is too comfortable or you’re just too sleepy to properly consider better options and instead, you part your legs and nudge him over to sit on the floor between them.

“‘ere.” You lazily motion, before flopping your head against the plush chair once more.

He can’t even tease you, his face is red at the implications - did you have no idea how… how perverted you were making him feel? He knew you probably had no secondary or lewd intentions but you couldn’t just do that and expect him to be okay! Still - he isn’t complaining, he’d dreamed of being in between your legs (in all ways imaginable) for embarrassingly long (to the point he’s sure if Zhongli knew he’d be banned from Liyue), and he only stumbles slightly on his feet as he makes his way to lean between your legs.

“Better than any pillow Mora could buy,” he groans, letting his cheeks meet your thighs, he looks up at your face - you looked so cute, sleepy and yawning, “so nice and kind, letting me rest like this… you’ll make them jealous, you know?”

His fingers trail your skin, taking note of how delicate it felt against his worn out gloves.

You don’t acknowledge his words, your journey into unconsciousness must have been swift, only tightening your grip on his cheeks in your slumber.

“… !” He feels more blood rush to his cheeks, his eyes involuntarily roll back at the feeling of your skin on his as your legs apply a pleasurable amount of pressure against his face - fuck, he wished Zhongli would walk in, so he could rub it in his face.

His hands go to rest on your legs, almost as if begging you to stay there or squeeze him tighter - kill him, he truly wouldn’t mind going like this, but it seems he was too careless and you’re startled awake by his sudden and rough touch.

“A-Ajax? …! Are you okay I didn’t -!”

“Of course not,” he breathes, trying to hide how much he enjoyed the location and situation he found himself in, “you should rest, I’ll keep watch so they don’t bother you.”

“But don’t you want a pillow or to move somewhere more comfortable?” You ask, afraid you’d hurt him and slightly embarrassed at the predicament.

“No, it’s okay,” he laughs, never once parting his cheeks from your thighs “if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” you reassure, thinking for a second before smiling down at him, “t-thank you for keeping an eye out.”

“Now, don’t worry and rest,” he smiles, patting your legs and you take it as a sign to head back to sleep - you’d need to make the most of any shut eye you could get in the next couple of hours, “to help you like this… is my pleasure.”

And it really is.

[thedreadgay]

better than alone

series: gwenoden, roslin, ishnah original publish date: jul 5 2018 word count: 1720 warning for: familial death, canon-typical violence author’s notes: ur local jewish fantasy nerd is here 2 remind u that dragon age elves are jewish (among other minorities lol) and roslin hawke is half elven and i was thinkin abt her gf merrill supporting her and bethy in mourning leandra and im Emotional. also, all elvish that isn’t from canon i thought of myself, though the only other word that really comes up is mirlin, which means sibling. shiva is an actual jewish mourning practice that i thought sounded elvish enough. the canon-typical violence warning is just cause roslin describes leandra’s death but we all played the game, just a heads up tho!

"Ir abelas, ma vhenan." Merrill stepped into their bedroom, but Roslin couldn't find the will to look up at her; she could only stare into the fire.

"There's nothing to say right now." Roslin hated how small she sounded.

"Oh." Merrill paused, and Roslin's heart plunged further down. Curse her abrasiveness. "Okay. I'll just... go then."

Roslin hung her head, and she hoped it hid the crumbling of her expression. Why push Merrill away? With her eyes screwed shut and her head in a cloud of death, she didn't hear Merrill's footsteps stop, nor turn back to her. Her breath hitched when Merrill threw her arms around her.

"Oh, vhenan." Merrill tucked Roslin's hair behind her ear, and she wanted to hide, but something in her heart screamed for Merrill, for Bethany, for her mother. "I can go if you want me to." Merrill was so gentle it hurt. "But I can stay, too."

Roslin's lip trembled, and she pressed her hands over her eyes. She hated this. She hated anyone seeing her like this, but the thought of being alone made her want to collapse like wreckage.

"Do you want me to stay?" Merrill held her tight, strong and grounding. Roslin nodded. "Then I will."

A small sob escaped her, and then tears were trailing past her hands, and she couldn't stop—she simply cried, hunched like a dying woman. Merrill drew her love to her chest, stroking red hair while Roslin whimpered.

"I know it hurts," Merrill whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "It's okay to hurt. I'm here for you, no matter what."

Roslin wrapped her arms around Merrill's waist and bawled.

"Damned templars. Wish they'd hurry it up already," Gamlen grumbled. For once, Roslin found herself agreeing with him. She stood against the wall opposite a wrought iron gate in the Gallows, arms crossed. Beside her, Merrill bounced on the balls of her feet, a basket hanging from the crook of her elbow. The dog sat patiently while Gamlen paced, watching him go back and forth. Roslin was sure she looked positively murderous waiting there, and she was; it wasn't easy to visit a mage in the Circle on your own, let alone with two others and a warhound, but she would knife the next templar to deny her shiva with Bethany.

Her eye caught the scrap of black fabric tied around her wrist. Tearing it apart had been satisfying, and she found... something profound in sharing the shreds with her uncle, wrapped about his own wrist. Bethy had ripped up her own. Roslin's heart hurt, thinking of her little sister all alone in her grief, but at least she wasn't there to see Leandra go. The memory of her mother's head on a patchwork body haunted her every moment.

She felt Merrill's slender hand on her shoulder, and she sighed, reaching up and twining their fingers together. Her mabari whined worriedly at her feet.

Finally, a door to the side opened, and she looked up to see Knight-Captain Cullen striding towards her. Roslin glared.

"Serah Hawke," Cullen greeted curtly.

"Your templars won't let me see my sister," she snapped back.

"Right, straight to business, then..." Cullen sighed, and rubbed his forehead. Roslin was ready to wring his neck til that ugly little head popped off. "I would just tell you the same thing, but it seems you won't take no for an answer."

Roslin sneered. "You're right, I won't."

"Look, nobility and coin can only bring you so far. A single visitor once in a blue moon is already more than most get. I can't reasonably—"

"You can, and you will." Roslin got in his face, and her lip curled back.

Cullen frowned in distaste. "To let three of you—" The dog growled menacingly behind her. "Four of you in for some heathen ritual—"

"It's not some blood magic bullshit, it's a mourning practice for my mother!" She shouted, and Cullen stepped back in alarm. "I found her head sewn to parts of other women like she was a rag doll! She shambled into my arms and died there!"

"Oh Maker," she heard Gamlen murmur in horror.

"I want to grieve with my sister, and some little runt won't stand in my way!"

Cullen looked a tad sick, but recovered quickly. "I am—sorry for your loss, I am." His look darkened in a way that made Roslin want to spit at him. "But I will not stand threats, serah."

"Neither will I," she seethed.

The two stared off, Roslin boiling with anger. She would not be turned aside by some fucking templar who thinks her family less than people.

Finally, Cullen relented. "Fine," he huffed, and marched up to the gate. "Open it up," Cullen called, and turned back to Roslin as the chains clanked. "You have one hour."

"An hour and a half."

"Maker," Cullen muttered. "Very well, but any longer and I'll have you all dragged off."

"I'd like to see you try," Roslin said under her breath, shouldering him none too gently as she passed. She didn't look back at his noise of protest, storming off as the gate opened.

"Nice work, girl." Gamlen caught up, with Merrill on her other side and the dog at their heels. "But I really didn't have to hear that."

"... Sorry." She glanced over, and rolled her eyes at Gamlen's shocked expression. "Yes, I apologized, you lout. Don't get used to it," she snapped, and continued on.

Merrill's hand slipped into hers, and the anger under her skin died down.

"Ros!" Bethany cried as they entered the chamber. Roslin met her halfway as they rushed to each other's arms, and she felt her shirt dampen with her sister's tears. Roslin held her tight and blinked hard. "I'm glad you're here, mirlin."

Roslin didn't trust her voice, so she said nothing, only squeezed her sister before letting go. The mabari nudged Bethany's leg pitifully, and she knelt to give him a big hug and a good scratch; her tears were lovingly licked away, even as more fell. Bethany even embraced Gamlen, who awkwardly patted her back, though the soft sadness in his face was telling. Merrill's hand rested at Roslin's waist, and she leaned into the touch, swallowing the lump in her throat.

She knew her sister didn't exactly like Merrill, but Bethy's watery expression wasn't hostile as she turned to her. Merrill held out her hands in sympathy. "Ir abelas, Bethany."

Bethany hesitated for just a moment, before taking Merrill's hands. It eased Roslin's pained heart: her two favourite girls in the world.

"Ma serannas." Bethany sniffed.

Merrill smiled, sweet and sad. "Of course, lethallan. Someone has to take care of you all so you can grieve." She pulled away to set her basket on a nearby table. "I have everything here—I hope the tea and vegetables haven't gone cold. I won't be long with the mourner's prayer."

Roslin knew shiva all too well. She remembered the first time: barely a woman, holding the twins in both arms as they cried for their father, gone to Falon'Din for guidance. At least they had neighbours in Lothering to care for them, then; even if they were mostly shemlen, a number knew how to be a friend to a grieving family. They didn't have that for Carver, waiting until they had a roof over their heads in Kirkwall to sit for him, and hardly a soul in the city who cared. Somehow... Roslin felt they had even less, now. She sat heavily on the dusty ground, weighted by her sorrow.

Bethany followed, and if Gamlen was confused the first time he witnessed this, he was utterly lost taking part. "So, uh... do I... sit?" He shifted, unsure. Even her mabari slumped down, whining with his head in Bethany's lap.

"Sit." Bethany gestured to the floor next to her, and Gamlen slowly got to the ground. "I didn't think you would want to sit shiva with us, uncle," she admitted softly.

"Yes, well..." Gamlen sucked in a breath though his teeth, and swallowed. Despite being—well, Gamlen—something still twisted deep in her stomach at the sight of him trying not to cry. "Elf thing or not, you two—you're the only family I have left. May as well... I don't know... take part, if I'm welcome."

Bethany reached over and patted his hand with a small smile. He tried somewhat to wrangle a sad smile in return, but he mostly looked constipated.

"It's better to be here than alone, even if we only have a short time," Merrill agreed, fetching a stool and sitting. "Shiva... it's meant to provide space for us to mourn; not only to honour the dead, but honour ourselves, by feeling our grief without restraint. Death is a trying thing to process, but together—with family, and community—it can be easier to bear. And that's where I come in." She smiled. "I’m touched to be here with you all. Ma serannas, for allowing me in."

Roslin wiped her eyes. You are my family too, Merrill, she wanted to say, but decided to save it for private.

"I can't begin to imagine the pain you all must be feeling." Merrill's voice was just above a whisper. "And it's hard to see the good things in the world through that. It can make you feel like..." She chewed her lip. "Like a ghost." It was said knowingly. Roslin has been a ghost, hasn't she? Guilt ached in her for Merrill to see that, yet her lover continued, brave and tender as always. "But death is part of the cycle of life. Leandra is guided to another place, but not gone—not really. Death isn’t an end, but a change, like the turning of seasons. So are we changed, but we can use that for good while we still walk this realm. Our memories of her will be a blessing upon the world." Merrill's eyes glimmered with hope and unshed tears, and she smiled through it, genuine and brighter than the sun. "Even through something as sad as death, life continues, and grows anew upon bones of the past. So with the mourner's prayer, we celebrate Leandra's life."

The familiar words washed over her, both in Elvish and Common, and Roslin's tears were bittersweet.