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✎ Modernization! [Touchstarved Modern AU Headcanons]

🤎𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: GN!Reader X Modern!Touchstarved LIs | 🌙𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Fluff, 3rd Person (?) | 🖊️𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 976 Words | ✏️𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: Not Edited! | ❌𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Suggestive if you like squint ish (?), Mild Language

🍁𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Jayce has been watching too many Spider-Man movies.

👻𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐛𝐬: Slowly coming up with ideas~ If anyone has anything they’ll like to see don’t be scared to send in a request!

“There will be stars forever, while we sleep.” — Sara Teasdale, ‘There Will Be Stars in Dark of the Moon’

-> 🪽𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐬

Kinda obvious but he would be a doctor

I don’t know why but I can see him as a Pediatrician

Or an emergency room doctor

He just gives the vibes

FEELING HUMAN, HOOKED ON YOUR BREATH ── leander + gn!reader, 430

leander is painfully aware of his reputation; knows that you've heard rumours of how the corner room you currently occupy in the wet wick was once exclusively for him and his one-night-stands, vere's little quips of him getting some action with a stranger or two in dark alleys, and he hasn't exactly been subtle with the way he looks at you in the candlelight when you're huddled together in one of the booths. he knows that you're no fool, that you're not deaf to the warnings to stay away from him lest you fall too deep into his spell of dark magic—

but you stay anyway.

perhaps it is because he is one of the few to offer you some semblance of comfort in the unfamiliar streets of eridia without asking for anything else, or because he is the only one capable of touching your bare hands and remain sane enough to see the exact shade of your pretty eyes, but whatever the reason, he finds himself unable to care. he finds himself doing a lot of uncharacteristic things since you've come around, actually.

leander does not believe in god, has never even entertained such thoughts of a divine entity existing with the sort of life he's led since birth, but he thinks that despite your curse, you are the closest thing to an angel he's ever met. leander feels bad about it, really; the thoughts that plague his mind when he lets you trace the grooves and scars of his calloused hands, your darkened fingertips ghosting upon the skin of his forearm like a dancer from the amaryllis district. he feels guilty, as if he's taking advantage of your trust like this, even if you're the one who's touching him, but it's outweighed by that something that leander still can't name even after all those nights of laying awake in night or nursing his nth bottle of rum in the wet wick at some ungodly hour of the night; something about how you touch him like he's the only solid thing in the world, the look in your eyes when you find your fingers wandering over to the scar on his face.

there is no such thing as heaven or hell, just the monsters (soulless and mortal) that linger in the space between, but your touch is divine, and for the first time in his life, leander wants nothing more than to repent for his sins, to whisper his confessions against the warm dark-gold of your knuckles as if he could find some semblance of forgiveness in your skin.

~ I LIKE YOU

Ais x reader | TOUCHSTARVED

♡ Morning after with Ais. 70% cute, 30% ….something! This was originally requested by an anon, but tumblr blew up my response to the ask.. unless it turns up on my blog later..

Tangled in dark turquoise sheets, you stirred in your sleep, feeling warm breath fan over the back of your neck. Your grogginess faded when you realized where you were and what you did last night. And at that realization, you felt your legs and back throb.

In an attempt to distance yourself from the demon, his big arm pulls your body back to his.

#vinafics❤️#ais touchstarved #touchstarved x reader #touchstarved ais #touchstarved fluff #ish

Vere Doing Fox Things

Because if you give a Rosie an animal/animal adjacent character, he’s going to want some behavior to go with it.

TW/CWs: Potential Accidental Canon Deviance, incredibly mild and vague sexy implications if you squint.

This is gonna be more conversational than my other headcanon posts, which probably isn’t saying much considering those posts’ tone. Likes and reblogs appreciated as always!

#Rosie Writes #Touchstarved #Touchstarved Game #Vere #Touchstarved Headcanons #Touchstarved Fluff #Idk why but this game has been on the mind really hard recently #Might have something to do with me trying to plan out where to hang up all my lil postcards #But who knows! It’s always a mystery!

List of things I want to see in Leander’s route or I will cry… but it’s just stereotypical romance tropes

1. The “Bandaging Him Up” Scene

This could happen in anyone’s route but it works best in Leander’s cuz he’s 100% (?) human, which means he probably doesn’t have any supernatural healing capabilities. So that makes it even more emotional for the MC.

It’s that stereotypical trope where you find his battered body, lug him back to your room in the Wet Wick, and force him to undress so you can clean his wounds (all the while he’s telling you that he doesn’t need your help, of course). He’ll wince when you first press the wet rag onto his cuts, and then you’ll scold him for moving and for being so careless with his safety. Then he’ll argue back asking why you even care so much and then of course you yell out that it’s because you love him (or something like that)! And then he realizes he’s never had anyone truly care whether he lived or not and that he too loves you! It’s so trope-y but there’s a reason it’s a tried and true classic and it needs to be in the route.

2. The “Defending Him Against His Shitty Parents” Scene

We don’t know much yet about his family except that they are rich and/or high status mages and they wanted him to join the Senobium. Given that he had to leave home to live his dreams, I think it’s fair to say his parents do NOT like this new life he chose for himself. Whether his parents see it as simply a disappointing turn of events or a betrayal worthy of disowning him has yet to be seen but I imagine they’re not happy.

So I imagine we meet them and then there’ll be a whole scolding/argument where his parents will inevitably say something cruel (like “you’re such a disappointment/disgrace/dishonor to this family”). I want MC to have to choice to tear his parents a new one and defend him. I just want the chance to say something along the lines of “You don’t know him like I do, keep my man’s name out ya goddamn mouth!” Even (and especially) if we’re wrong about him I still want to defend my bby boy.

Also let me defend him against the other LIs they keep bullying my little guy

3. The “How Dare You Touch Them” Scene

He’s so good (sorta) at keeping up appearances of being calm and composed, so I just wanna see him lose it. Someone (maybe the Senobium 👀) hurts or kidnaps MC and THIS is the thing that pushes him over the edge. He probably won’t be a fist-fighting type of fighter (like Ais with that roughneck at the bar), but we’ll get to see his magic in action and oh god will it be glorious (and sexy).

4. The “Love Triangle Blows Up” Scene: aka Ais and Leander Jealousy

Probably will happen in either or both of their routes, but I wanna see some jealousy over the MC between them. Mayhaps even a moment where MC uses one to make other jealous?? Basically I want them to just brawl (playfully or not, that’s up to the Allmother) over who gets to hoard MC’s time. Is it basic and problematic of me to want to watch two men fight over me? Yes. Do I care? No.

5. The “Tracing the Scars” Scene

Enough said. Let me touch him. ALL of him.

#Devs if you see this #pwetty pwease can I have this 👉👈 as just a little treat 🥺#if you’re not the devs ignore these tags they’re embarrassing #touchstarved #touchstarved leander #touchstarved fluff

── AND IF HEAVEN WERE TO TOUCH ME, IT WOULD NOT BE ENOUGH

kuras. the fallen angel sits with you in confessional as you ruminate on all you never dare to grasp for yourself.

Your knees ached, pressed taut and numb against the cold steps of which you’d been genuflecting upon for the past hour. Or had it been more than that? To be aware of the passage of time was to not fully immerse yourself in prayer with the gods, but the hymns did not come to you so easily anymore. Perhaps they never did. Grief weighed your lungs down like smoke, even in this holy house.

He stirred beside you. Kuras. Golden-eyed and beautiful in the way that made you want to kneel and repent for the sole action of loving him.

“I must confess,” you said, voice hoarse.

“Tell me,” he spoke, softly, the most divine thing you’d ever known. To speak to him felt strangely akin to repentance, but something horrid churned in your gut, and you shook your head.

“What of my anonymity?” you asked, half-joking. It sounded bitter upon your tongue.

Kuras’ eyes lowered briefly, hiding behind the shield of slender black lashes. The silence wrapped around your silhouettes like an invisible fog, thick and smothering, broken only by the distant chime of a distant bell. Then, Kuras’ voice emerged, gentle against the dark shroud of melancholy settled all around the room, illuminated only by the hazy glow of the candlelight.

"You know that what is said in this chamber will never pass my lips," he told you, words like a whisper that floated in the holy space between your vessels as a promise, a covenant. “The gods do not see us here.”

The words that come out of your lips were hoarse, caught in your devotion and hypocrisy. “Does it matter?”

To that, Kuras said nothing. His golden eyes flit to the candles, thousands lit over what could very well be a millennia and moulded into a single wax entity sprawled over the stone altar. Perhaps he thought of you two of you, melded and fused together to be one body, one soul. The very thought was blasphemous. It should not have made your heart sing.

He had fallen for you, you knew this very well. There was little you did know of his time in that kingdom that so many of your priests and priestesses have only dreamed of, but you were sure of this: you were the very reason he had decided to fly too close to the sun, why he bled molten gold and why he was doomed.

You were too, no matter how much you may have tried to deny it. It was only a matter of time before your own fall was recognised, and then comes your fall from grace.

The gods did not see you here, but what was once devout and holy in you and Kuras were aware of what you had done.

That is damning enough.

#touchstarved #kuras #touchstarved x reader #kuras x reader #kuras fluff #kuras angst #kuras imagines #kuras scenarios #kuras drabbles #kuras oneshots #kuras fics #touchstarved fluff #touchstarved angst #touchstarved imagines #touchstarved scenarios #touchstarved drabbles #touchstarved oneshots #touchstarved fics

HOUSE OF ERIDIA ── touchstarved x reader, high fantasy au

“Among the monarch's most intimate inner circle was their Master of Whispers (...) sharp and cunning, the mastermind of an intricate network of spies and informants that ran through the high aristocracy within the walls of the palace, down to the most slimy backwaters of the kingdom's outskirts. The truth of LEANDER’s threat, however, laid within his charm (...) it is said that not even his most beloved Eminence trusted him.”

Leander was devoted— as devoted as a man of such skill in less than legal information brokering could be, at least. Often times you wondered whether he was worth trusting; so much information he laid out at your feet like a suitor would bestow upon you with golds and jewels and fine silks, and just as much he kept away from you. Perhaps it was unwise to bestow upon the fickle position of Master of Whispers to a man who shared your bed, but never his own secrets-- or perhaps you thought too much of him. You did, after all, cradle your own secrets to your chest.

“To one such as the monarch, who clung onto their religion as if it were drywood amidst the furious seas, KURAS was a strange sort of salvation in himself (...) rumoured to be otherworldly, golden-eyed and infinitely wise not only in his knowledge of forgotten, they claimed him a lost eldritch being, shunned by the highest deities of the sky. Others said that he was a deity himself. But what deity hid in the shadows of the throne and kissed the feet of the mortal that sat upon it?”

Amidst the fickle serpents' game of politics and war, there was a superficial solace to be found in the religion you were raised in as a child. From that faith, your devotion extended to a gift from the gods laid at your door, the golden-eyed angel that you were not quite sure existed till they bestowed him to you. Strangely enough, he treated you with the same sort of reverence— as an acolyte might to their own deity. Yours was a strange relationship, a push-and-pull of prayer and religious guilt. Both of you hid your unholiness within a facade of worship and idolatry. You did not know why he has come, but you knew he saw you for what you were and bent the knee anyway. Be not afraid, he said. And so you were not, blindly so.