#dalishflame
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Haarlep's nickname for her is stinky little demon (affectionate) @dalishflame
@dalishflame
”Says the smelly, filthy, horny Harlot,” She would grumble, not as affectionately, but with a smile nonetheless and maybe a fluttering of her lashes, “Shovel smells amazing thank you very much. Like shit, piss and blood.”
She appreciates the nickname and secretly preens under the affection.
#Shovel;;Answers#dalishflame#My brain thinking of what she could call them since Bussy is taken LOL;;
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i'm imagining what we'd be doing if we were together. - Nysa
Brows furrow im mild confusion as golden gaze flickers about, as though trying to spot if there were anyone else around them. In the moment, it was just the duo, having been off from the group to go rummage for some firewood for the night, perhaps find some berries or something that could assist in adding some flavor to tonights meal.
". . .I'm standin' right here, and we're together right now, trying to find firewood, so. . .Atreion, the hell do you mean?"
@dalishflame
#dalishflame#(THIS IS THE RESPONSE THAT CAME TO MY HEAD AND I SNICKERED)#☾ 〈 THE ERADICATOR 〉 ︙ NYSA
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@dalishflame \\ Nanami
The protest was bigger than Nanami was expecting, but she didn't mind. Big crowds, while they were nerve wracking, offered a semblance of anonymity to her that felt comforting, easier to be in than the pack that she lived with. Dark brown eyes constantly scan the crowd as a whole, watching and waiting for something to happen, wondering when the cops were going to get involved... if they were going to get involved at all. It was always a toss up with these sorts of things.
She relished the chaos of it all.
"Hey pretty thang," drawled a voice that sent a shiver racing down her spine... and certainly not in a good way. Arms crossing over her chest not to protect herself but to protect him from being struck right away, Nanami clenched her hands into fists as she schooled her expression and turned to face the person who had spoke to her.
He looked like a college kid that was too bored to stay in his dorms. Not worth her time. "You were just leaving," she says to him, taking a step back... only to run into somebody else. Cursing herself, she turns to look at the person she had run into who was potentially wearing just as much black, if not more, than she was...
Unfortunately enough, the college kid followed, getting into her personal bubble in a manner that had Nanami's lips curling into a subtle snarl.
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@dalishflame sent: ❛ 27 . a kiss to end the sexual tension .
𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑫 𝑴𝑬𝑨𝑵𝑻 𝑻𝑶 𝑩𝑬 𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑪. A nice candle-lit dinner, and some honeyed words before he took Atreion to bed. Yet, seeing them return once again from Death's jaws. He felt a rush of need. Once Atreion was alone, Eden quickly made his way to the barn.
Blackwall was gone for the evening and left the barn unattended. Good. The moment he saw the flaming red hair, Eden threw his strong arms around them and brought them close for a heated, fierce kiss. He needed them like a fish needing water. He couldn't help himself, he slipped a hand into their lovely hair and pushed them into the stack of soft straw. He continued his barrage of heated kisses, his hands roaming over their hips and resting there to keep them in place. He was thrumming with a mixture of emotions and it was evident between his legs.
Once he was satisfied with the many kisses he had given, he pulled away, panting softly as he regained his breath. His bi-colored eyes; green and blue shimmered with a feral need that only came with Atreion's absences. A possessiveness, protectiveness that Eden couldn't quite shake.
He nuzzled into them and gently sank his teeth into their supple neck just enough to demonstrate the result of that absence.
❝ 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. ❞ His tone was deep, a rumbling, guttural tone escaping him as he planted another hungry kiss to their lips.
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@dalishflame
"Your first time killin someone?" the drawl of his speech comes from behind them as Togame approaches, coming to a stop beside Atreion as he stares at the people dead before them. Sure they had killed goblins already, but there was a difference between killing one of those monsters ... and killing one of your own. Especially a pair of people who had only wanted to save their brother after an owlbear had attacked him. By all rights they had been helpless...
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@dalishflame
The air is cooling finally into that whisper of Fall, the Summer leaves of bright, iridescent Greene borne to gentle wisps of soft breezes, and Roland's leg kicks idly from his chosen spot within the branches of a strong, hearty oak. Beneath him, grazing without fantastic care, art a herd of halla, glittering sunlight glistening from their porcelain flanks, their horns jutting high and carved beautifully by the Clans.
Perchance is there a Clan nearby, ponders studious Roland, as he rests his head at his arms, leant safely inside this tree's berth. A crack of a twig nearby alerts the herd to a sudden presence, great heads lifting for clarity, and Roland follows their line of sight: still, searching.
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@dalishflame asked: " [cook] - With Krem " [ cook ] sender and receiver cook a meal together // ordinary intimacy // accepting!
Cooking had always been one of Krem's favorite things, second only to sewing. He had never appreciated it as a kid, when his mother had tried to get him to help in the kitchen. Back then, he had only wanted to go outside and play or work with his father. Cooking had seemed so... domestic to him back then. But then he had joined the military and had quickly learned how to cook as necessary.
Fleeing the military had resulted in the skill becoming further ingrained, as it was either he cooked for himself or starved most of the time. The skill came even more in handy after he joined the Chargers; though some of the group could cook, many did not - especially Bull. In order to avoid accidentally getting poisoned it was best he just volunteered to cook most of the time.
What he loved even more than just cooking, however, was having a companion to cook with. It made the task even more fun, giving him someone to talk with as well as an extra hand to make the meal go faster. So having Atreion helping him now was a welcome task. He grinned at the elf beside him as he kneaded the bread he was making.
"Thank you again for your help with this, Inquisitor," he told him. "I'm sure you have other things that could use your attention. But I really wanted to make Bull a nice meal for his birthday, and it's far easier with an extra set of hands. And thanks, too, for convincing the cook to let me use Skyhold's kitchen; I promise to make sure it's back in order as soon as we're done."
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@dalishflame cont. from here x:
Atreion went gladly into their embrace, burrowing their face into the cool skin of Tar's neck. He smelled strongly of his favourite cologne, almost but not quite hiding the acrid hint that Atreion always assumed was from Tar's many potions. It had become almost as familiar as their own, and they breathed it in with a happy hum -- until those whispered words hit home, and they stiffened.
"...What?" Atreion pulled back, just enough to meet those golden eyes. They searched his face, bewildered, for a hint of irony or laughter, but Tareque's poker face was immaculate. Their own was not, and they shook their head vehemently, swallowing hard around the lump forming in their throat. "Tar-- that... that isn't funny. Please. You mustn't tease me about something so important."
While a question such as the one that had slipped from his mouth might have been a bit intense or unexpected, funny or teasing had certainly not been two of the words Tareque would have associated with it. He looked at Atreion with confusion, his forehead creasing ever so slightly as he attempted to make sense of their reaction.
"I hadn't spoken it in jest," he assured, a bit softer as he realized this was a bit more of a tender matter than he might have initially anticipated.
A hand raised to tuck a long red strands of hair behind Atreion's ear and he offered what he hoped was a comforting smile. "Do not worry of it... If my words bother you, you may pretend they were never spoken." That wasn't the ideal reaction, certainly, but Atreion's comfort was far more important than his own instant gratification through sentiment.
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"You're a good boy, aren't you? Of course you are. My dear, beautiful boy, you're always so good for me." 😈
The words take him off guard, and before he can even try to control it, the warmth of his cheeks creeps up to the tips of his ears. Turning the man's face a warm pink. For a moment he seems a little speechless. How is he even supposed to respond to that? Instead, he moves to capture Atreion's lips in a kiss.
"hm... that's cheating, you know?" He breathes softly.
#dalishflame#why do i feel like atreion will abuse this knowledge#atreion tbt#letters & correspondence ( answered )
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"So, if we're going to be traveling with one another, it might be best to get to know each other, hm? Maybe play a little game - you ask me a question, then I ask you one. Best to tell the truth; good show of trust, you know." Blade is sheathed back into it's holster beneath her coat, reaching once again for another just to start the same cleaning process she had just finished, a light, orange glint refected from the fire of the camp.
@dalishflame
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@dalishflame \\ Anthony
You wouldn't normally find him in a place like this, being an activist over something that others found righteous fury in protesting against. In fact Anthony typically steered clear of matters pertaining to the political... call it habit, call it whatever you want, but as a retired special forces, he hadn't been able to participate in matters like this back when he was still enlisted. So quite frankly Atreion should be grateful he was here period.
"So what do I do again?" he asks, arms crossed over a broad chest as his gaze scans the crowd once, twice, three times before his gaze settles back on them.
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𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒; 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐀, 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒. Atreion's movements were always beautiful, but what had the Kelpie proprietor so distracted from serving drinks was the beautiful pleated ponytail the other seemed to wear.
It took all his will not to reach out and give it a pleasant little tug. Perhaps later, when they were alone. His eyes fluttered for a moment as he glanced at Atreion's face.
❝ 𝐀𝐡'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠? ❞
@dalishflame 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑.
#dalishflame#KELPIE OF DRIFTMARK ↠ ( house of the dragon. )#JOURNEY WRITTEN INTO MYTHS ↠ ( thread. )#I COULDNT RESIST THE PONYTAIL
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❝ Why are you staring? Do you have anything better to look at? ❞ Honey hues fixated on Atreion, his ivory brows furrowing in a look of irritation.
❝ If you need something, spit it out. ❞
@dalishflame liked for a starter.
#KNAVE OF NYTH ↠ ( merrick tsukino. )#THE FORGOTTEN REALMS ↠ ( baldur's gate III. )#JOURNEY WRITTEN INTO MYTHS ↠ ( thread. )#dalishflame
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piano, sender teaches receiver how to play the piano.
⚝ ╰ ‘ 𝑨𝑵𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑫 ╱ @dalishflame
"ℐ must admit, you are quite the teacher." He turned to Atreion ; a soft smile lingered on his lips as he finally mastered that simple tune.
Lorroakan and Atreion were seated side by side on the bench in front of the piano, their shoulders almost touching. The wizard felt surprisingly at ease in their presence, as if it hadn't been a decade that had passed.
Watching Atreion was play was nothing short but impressive —— their hands moving with such grace, making it all seem so .... easy. It wasn't. Lorroakan may have had the hands of a pianist, but he had never been particularly interested in playing.
actions speak louder than words. ( accepting )
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Rumors are always spread with ease in these.
⸻ 𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐂 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄 morphed into a dramatic sigh. They did indeed ; the young ℒord had started some of them about certain individuals himself.
"Oh, they do, and they cling to us like shadows, hm~?" His voice carried a hint of theatricality. Well, most rumors about Sylverian held some truth. They ranged from wild tales about his Fey ancestry to him being a whore struggling with addiction and living off his family's wealth like a parasite. But then again, those he associated with were hardly paragons of virtue themselves.
He batted his long, golden lashes, a flicker of playful innocence in his aquamarine eyes. "I do hope you don't lend too much credence to such idle chatter?" He hasn't met Atreion in person yet — my, they were quite pleasant to look at — but he has heard some very . . . interesting stories about them as well.
𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒. ( accepting )
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Lark strolled alongside Atreion. She couldn't keep the smile off of her face when her gaze softened upon seeing Honey.
❝ Beautiful dog. ❞ She chuckled softly and glanced at Atreion. The walk would be a long one, as they traveled down the main road to Baldur's Gate.
❝ I didn't think we were so far from Baldur's Gate. ❞ Said Lark as she shouldered her pack. She let out a soft hum. ❝ Perhaps once we get settled in the inn, we can check out the bath houses. I'm overdue for a nice long soak. ❞
@dalishflame liked for a starter.
#dalishflame#. the forgotten realms ( baldurs gate III )#. stories fade into legends and myths ( thread )
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