#a lil angsty

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

April 10: Scream

Day 10 of @hinnymicrofic TW: blood!

The scream is ripped forcefully from her lungs.

“Harry!”

She can still hear the sickening crack of the bludger against his skull, watches in horror, helpless as Harry slumps over and slips off his broom, plummeting to the earth. She can see a sickening streak of red, and his head doesn’t look quite right.

It isn’t until Peakes and Coote catch him that it occurs to Ginny she could have dived, could have tried to do something other than swallow the bile in her mouth.

Ginny has always fancied herself brave, but when she flies closer she has to look away. There’s so much blood, and his head is wrong, crushed or something, and he’s limp and pale. It’s horrible. Grotesque.

She goes to the hospital wing after they lose the match, and it isn’t until he asks what happened that Ginny remembers Ron is there. It’s a good excuse, that she went there to talk to her brother; it’s what she’ll tell Dean later.

She steals glances at Harry, slowly breathing in the reassurance that his chest is rising, the color is back in his cheeks, his head is wrapped in bandages but looks like it’s been put right. It’s the right shape, anyway, not the horrible bloody mess it had been.

It isn’t until she rows with Dean later about it that she realizes most people found it comical. Slapstick. But they hadn’t seen him, they hadn’t seen the crimson red pooling in his hair, they hadn’t been close enough to hear the sharp crack of his skull. They didn’t seem to care much that Harry had looked like he was dead.

Or perhaps such a thought didn’t suck the air from their lungs and carve a jagged hole in their chest, the way it had her.

#hinny fic #a lil angsty #hinny microfic #confession #this is inspired by IRL events #my fiance just had a gruesome injury #it was awful #do not recommend #he's okay

[chmerical]

𝗕 𝗘 𝗖 𝗞 𝗬 : ❝ i wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, or anything, but the door was wide open. ❞

𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘'𝗦  𝗡𝗢  𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞.  at  least  not  at  first.  teeth  are  grazing the  skin  of  her  bottom  lip,  gaze  not  necessarily  resting  on  the redhead,  more  like  past  her.  emma's  far  off,  cheeks  hot,  voice caught  in  the  back  of  her  throat,  tight.  tom's  words  bounce about  in  her  head,  harsh,  cold,  a  call  out  of  massive proportions  that  she,  begrudgingly,  has  to  admit  she  𝘿𝙀𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙑𝙀𝙎. no  one  else  is  willing  to  do  it  anyway,  she's  got  a  glower known  to  intimidate  even  the  most  unafraid  with  such  ease  and a  quick  wit  that  leaves  most  people  𝙜𝙤𝙗𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙  𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨, something  she's  pretty  fuckin  proud  of.  unfortunately,  at  this moment,  right  fucking  now..  well..  there's  not  much  for  her  to be  proud  of.

what  exactly  𝗜𝗦  her  𝗣  𝗥  𝗢  𝗕  𝗟  𝗘  𝗠  anyway?  she..  𝗝𝗔𝗡𝗘  would have  hated  seeing  him  so  surly,  lonely,  bitter.  she  would  have hated  seeing  how  fractured  he  and  tim  had  become,  barely tossing  sentences  back  and  forth,  a  hollow  shell  of  what  their relationship  had  been.  so,  it's  obvious  she'd  be  happy  to  see him  pick  up  the  pieces,  to  actively  choose  living  day  by  day,  to do  better  for  himself,  better  for  tim.  even  if  that  meant  he'd  be 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜  𝙤𝙣.  yeah,  jane  would  actually  be  so  fucking  ecstatic  to see  him  so  fucking  happy.  the  thing  is,  emma  was  never  as gracious,  or  as  understanding,  as  her  sister,  she  was  short-sighted,  too  easily  lost  in  her  own  ego  and  head--  and  maybe, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩  𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚,  tom's  right..  tom's  right  and  it  is  her  own  regret and  grief,  her  own  inability  to  press  on  forward  that  clouds  her, pushing  her  to  project  and  insist  on  mutual  suffering.  

so  she'll  take  a  breath  and  shove  shame  aside,  it's  time  to  suck it  up.  umber  and  aqua  hues  finally  meet,  with  emma's  lips quirking  into  somewhat  of  a  smile,  awkward,  ❝  you  𝗗𝗢  𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗭𝗘 a  screen  doesn't  really  count  as  a  door,  right?  ❞  a bark of  joke,  a  white flag,  𝘢  𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦  𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨,  ❝  you  can  come  in  y'know..  i  know  i  was kind  of..  a  jerk  earlier,  but  i  promise  i  won't  bite  your  head  off. ❞  truth  be  told,  he  could  do  worse  than  becky.  she's  nice enough,  almost  too  nice  for  emma's  taste,  but  for  her  𝗦𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥, for  𝗧𝗢𝗠,  for  𝗧𝗜𝗠,  she'll  try,  ❝  it's  been..  a  day.  which  is  no excuse,  like  i  totally  get  that.  it's  just..  i'm..  fuck,  uh  i'm  not really  good  at  this.  i  guess  what  i'm  tryin  to  say...  uh..  i'm  sorry. really.  think  we  can  get  a  do  over?  ❞

prompt ( x ) ft. @forwardmoved

#i was feelin #a lil angsty #but she's trYIN #<3 #forwardmoved #— ❛❛ // EMMA PERKINS ¦ i was in brigadoon in high school and i fuckin killed it ・ 「 v: ??? 」

[kringle-c]

"It's only-"

#longpost #bg3 #wyllstarion #wyll ravengard #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #lyric comic #standing on my lil soapboc and crying #guys guys i worked rly hard on this be nice to me plz #i know its angsty but its good right #right #rolls around in my angst pile #lyricstuck #finally its only taken like #5 years

[therabbitthatpostthings]

“Kento.”

“Yes?”

“We should get married.”

He was too out of it to really process what you were insinuating, especially at a time like this. He carefully shifted to look up at you. You let him rest in your lap as you tried to stop the bleeding. You had wrapped what was left of your jacket around his wounds. Carefully he spoke, “Why would we get married right now?”

“That’s been your dream right? A happy marriage. A family? Now’s a great time to consider it.” You stated. Kento felt like he was being sold something instead of a proper proposal.

“I know I’m not marriage material but I’ve admired you for years now so I wanted to say it.” That boldness you had suddenly faded as you idly traced shapes into his shoulder.

Kento reached to grab your hand and intertwine it with his. His other free arm caressed your cheek gently, “I couldn’t ask for anyone more perfect than you.”

A loud rumble shook the station as little bits of dust and debris spindled from the ceiling. Kento watched the worry and fear wash over you. “Hey, come lay here with me. Let’s plan the wedding.”

You laid against his non-bandaged side and he pulled you in closer. “Where do you want to go?”

“Let’s have a beach wedding.” You smiled cuddling up to him. “In Malaysia.”

You both stared up at the ceiling, knowing it would eventually collapsed. Even if it didn’t, you’d both probably bleed out. Nanami smiled, “I’ll get us a nice house on the beaches for the honeymoon.”

“Only the best from my husband.” You joked as another impact sent a deep rumble through the train station.

“I’ll buy you a proper ring.” He gently caressed your knuckles. He could feel the cold, slow, teardrops land on his shoulder. He pulled you in closer.

“Let’s rest now love.”

#no beta we die like men #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x black!reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #kento nanami #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #just a angsty lil sad tidbit

[starrystevie]

"what's that?" dustin asks one night, eyes zeroed in on steve's chest.

confused, he glances down to where his button up has opened a bit at the neckline, not seeing anything on his skin other than the chain around his neck and bits of chest hair.

"what's what, henderson?"

the chain is simple silver, and at the bottom hidden under his shirt is a ring. he was gifted one of eddie's when they made whatever they were official. eddie let him pick, let steve trail his fingers feather light over his hands and over heavy silver until he found one he liked.

"you gonna pick one in this century?" eddie teased, looking up at him from under his lashes, smirking in the way that gives steve butterflies.

"this is an important decision," steve murmured out in a low voice, his light touch sending shivers down eddie's spine. "i can't just settle on one."

he ends up with a mood ring, one that eddie swore he only had because he needed something on his otherwise bare hand but steve knows it's because he thought it looked mysterious. sliding it off his finger is easy, placing a kiss on the pale bit of skin left behind is even easier.

it doesn't fit on his finger, not even close. he could barely squeeze it onto his pinkie but even then they had to use strawberry lube to get it off after it gets stuck.

"you don't have to wear it," eddie said, defeated with his big brown eyes breaking steve's heart into pieces.

but the thing is, steve is a little more than head over heels for him. he'd do anything to make eddie happy, make him feel loved, and being offered a ring in the first place had him feeling like he could fly. he wanted to show it off, flaunt it around like it was more than a mood ring because it was.

just because his fingers were too big didn't mean he couldn't keep the ring on him at all times. which is how he ended up with it on the simple silver chain around his neck.

the night he showed eddie for the first time, crawling up the bed shirtless to push him into the pillows with a searing kiss, was a night he wouldn't soon forget. eddie stared up at him with something that looked like love dancing behind his eyes as the ring dangled between them, glinting in the moonlight coming in through the bedroom window.

"you're wearing it?" eddie's voice was soft, reverent, as he took a hand up to cover the ring with his hand, pushing it into steve's chest right above his heart. he bent down to give eddie another kiss, relishing in the quick bite of pain that comes from the pressure of him pushing the metal into his chest.

"of course i'm wearing it, babe," steve said against his lips with a smile. "not gonna be able to get me to take it off now."

true to his word, steve never takes it off unless absolutely necessary. he wears it in his sleep, when he slides in behind eddie and curls around him. he wears it to work under his shirts, the metal warm against his skin as it thumps along with his heartbeat. he wears it around the house, when they go out on dates, when he showers. he wears it when he knows eddie will see the outline of it peeking through a tight shirt, driving him crazy.

it becomes habit for eddie to find it, fiddle with it over steve's clothes while they watch tv on the couch. they'll be pressed up against each other, limbs entwined, with his hand directly over the ring, rising and falling with every breath steve takes.

wearing it at all times, however, seems to be causing a bit of a problem. one that even dustin can see.

"don't be obtuse," he tuts as if he was chastising a child, "who gave you a bruise on your chest?"

"what are you talking about, i don't have a bruise on my-"

steve rolls his eyes and goes to the bathroom, flicking on the overhead light and pushing his chest out to get as close the mirror as possible. sure enough, sitting right above his heart, is a barely there bruise. it's a little green, a little brown, but definitely there.

there's something to be said about having eddie bruised above his heart. something to be said about having the indent of his ring pressed into his skin where he's the most vulnerable. the place where he had to learn how to take his armor off to let eddie see in the first place.

steve looks between the bruise and his face, back and forth and back again and watches as his smile grows wide, grows soft around the edges, grows into something that is vaguely eddie shaped which somehow makes it grow even softer.

he can hear eddie get home, the front door slamming as he shouts a too loud welcome to dustin and drops his toolbox onto the floor. his heart thuds a little bit like it always does when he realizes eddie is nearby, and he thinks if he could look close enough, he'd see his eddie shaped bruise jump along with it.

carefully, steve strokes his fingers over the discoloration, presses down just enough to feel it zing through his nerves like the lightning that eddie himself is. he watches as the skin turns pale before blooming back to life again.

steve thinks there's something there that he can't put his finger on. something thrumming through his veins that he can't give a name to.

"baby, you've got to come see this!" he yells into the living room.

something that he has all the time in the world with eddie to eventually figure out.

crossposted on twitter here

#bee not writing something angsty or smutty wow what a turn of events #my writing #steddie #idk just a lil something while i try to get back into the steddie groove #steddie drabble #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fluff #steve harrington #eddie munson

[fanaticalthings]

Broke: "Dick Grayson was upset at a new kid taking over his mantle because he doesn't think Jason will be good enough as Robin"

Woke: "Dick is upset at Jason, not because he's suddenly taking over the mantle he created, but because Jason isn't nearly feral enough of a child to drive Bruce insane in Dick's place"

Dick: You wanna be my successor? Go swing from that chandelier right now.

Jason:

Dick: As a matter of fact, I need to see you crawling all over the walls. Make a ruckus, break some furniture

Jason: But Bruce-

Dick: SCREW Bruce. Your job as my new brother is to make his life HELL. Why are you so polite? Why are you so calm? Where's your DRIVE, your PASSION, huh? You may be worthy of the title of Robin, but are you WORTHY of being my disaster brother?

Jason, a little scared: I dont-

Dick, scoffing: The youth these days just don't rebel like they used to.

#Bruce watching Dick take Jason out on a lil hangout day: Im sure everything will be fine :) #Alfred: You have no idea what youve done. #Dick: do you at least have any hobbies #Jason: i read #Dick: (in tears) i got such a BORING brother #[jason coming back as gotham's new uprising crime lord] #dick: see THATS what im talking about FINALLY a worthy successor #dick: remember littlewing when u turn 16 u gotta up the angsty teen performance tenfold just to REALLY make B's life difficult #jason a few years later: *dies in the most horrifying way possible leaving Bruce an anguished depressed mess* #dick: Wow ok I did NOT think he'd outdo me like this #this is how they bonded as brothers :) #this is kinda a continuation on a prev post abt Robin Jason being the polite kid lol #jason todd #dick grayson #nightwing #robin!jason #red hood #bruce wayne #batman #batfamily #batfam #batdad #batkids #batbros #dc #crack #incorrect quotes #fanatical posting

[ceiwiart2]

I'm sorry 🙊

#steven universe #steven universe future #ceiwiart2.0 #my art #comic #im taking a lil break from the angsty panic comic for a moment. we'll be right back after these short comics.

[ohitslen]

Sharing a blanket

Request by @volaenii ✨

Accidentally incorporated this to my uni au oopsieeees

#maybe I got a lil too excited and ended up doing this whole thing #it just kept escalating OWSGHII hope this suffices #enough angsty stuff let’s bring out the silly stuff #they are so stupid I love them sm uGHH #the context is that they just moved in and they have barely any belongings #they have blankets but the idiots washed them all without considering the fact that they sun dry their stuff #so they only have 1 blanket for both of them until the rest dries off and the house is so cold at night #they’re fighting for it. but this happened. and it was so warm and comfy they ended up too relaxed and slept too much #this happens at least once a month until they eventually settle into just sleeping together when that happens eventually #imagine Kni finding out about this #I want to do those images where ppl cover themselves with random shit bc there wasn’t a blanket but with this two petty mfs #trigun #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #vashwood #trigun fanart #vash #wolfwood #nicholas trigun #lenssi draws #Trigun Uni! AU

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

Danny’s parents want to kill him and he’s like “f in the chat y’all dinner boutta be so awkward tonight smh”

Ok so I know everyone loves the angsty headcannons where Danny is terrified of his parents cuz they wanna kill him but we’ve had that hot take since 2005 I’m here for a source material revival, the much more entertaining “Danny’s parents want to kill him and he actively doesn’t give a fuck”

CUZ UH, IM REWATCHING THE FIRST SEASON AND I FORGOT HOW GENUINELY BLASÉ HE IS ABOUT MADDIE AND JACK TRYING TO GET HIS ASS ITS SO FUNNY.

Like mom holding a literal ghost gun to his head: eh kinda unphased he even has time to quip, his parents say they wanna tear em to pieces: meh see u guys at dinner, LIKE OUR GUY IS SO UNPHASED HE THINKS THIS SHIT IS FUNNY! (s1 ep. 14 public enemy)

And he’s unphased despite knowing his parents tech works and knowing that his mother is actually a good shot. So like I love angst Danny and y’all should keep up the good work but where is my s1 Danny ‘COULDN’T give less of a fuck about his parents’ Fenton representation?

Cuz think of this, for your DPXDC AU consideration, Danny would fit in so well with the bat gang if only because they could try to stab, shoot, capture, brainwash, and stalk him and he’d be like “oh cool villain of the week shit? Nice, what’re we having for lunch.” He. Wouldn’t. Flinch.

#I’m not saying y’all are writing Danny as pusillanimous #except that I am #give my son his groove back this kid is litterally more afraid of a box ghost then his parents #he’s not a scaredy cat and I feel like rn everyone writes him as one #save the wet cat treatment for Tim y’all let Danny be a funny lil guy again #like he grew up in doofenshmirtz lab he isn’t crying over death threats babes #THIS ISN’T A HOT TAKE SO DON’T TRY TO COME FOR ME #THIS IS ME READING FROM THE DP BIBLE VERBATIM #S1 PRIVELAGES REINSTATED #GET GHOSTED #anyway #like I said I’m rewatching s1 #and I forgot how freaking fun it was #not all modern DP is angsty mind you and I’m also not here to say it’s wrong or bad #I’m here to say let’s get that biodiversity back baby #Danny Phantom #dp x dc #a cold take just the coldest

[ketzel]

i literally just got into this an hour ago

#i didnt even go here but now i do apparently #corrupted by my friend i cant believe she'd do this to me #first one was a lil doodle to contain my feelings after watching the real person ending #and then something possessed me and i made the 2nd one in an hr #torturing myself and my friend with angsty hcs atm #stannarrator #the stanley parable #stanley parable spoilers #real person ending

[mintypsii]

i love putting them in Situations

#lil personal birthday gift for meeeeeeeee #also HAPPY BDAY USOPP ILY MY BIRTHDAY TWIN #second bday art i made of him lol #i love the m but unfortunately that means i gotta put them through thr meat grinder sometimes #does anyone see a deleted scene of this cuz if enough ppl show interest then ill draw it #it's more drunk shenanigany than angsty hehe i was talking ab it with my bestie #op #one piece #sanuso #usosan #sanji #usopp #vinsmoke sanji #mintart #comic #my art

[cursedonyx]

HL Cast React to you Cradling Them When They’re Upset

Sebastian Sallow

Sebastian craves physical comfort like a starving man craves bread, but he’s very rarely had the opportunity to express it. Solomon was not the hugging sort, Ominis typically loathes physical contact unless it’s necessary, and Anne… well. The curse makes it hard for her to bear a cuddle for long. Sebastian has trained himself to give brief hugs and pats on the back, if anything at all, worrying that he’ll be seen as clingy, needy, or annoying if he holds on too tight, or too long. The last thing he wants to be is annoying, least of all to you. He has to be strong, he has to be cheerful, he has to be the one that everyone relies on. That means he’s useful, and people will stay by him. He can’t be a burden, or he’ll be abandoned.

So when you find him in the Restricted Section, surrounded by books and weeping into his hands at the sheer hopelessness of everything, he’s stunned when your immediate reaction is to pull him into your lap. He tenses, embarrassed by his display of emotion and afraid of needing you too much. But the longer you hold him, the more his defences crumble, and it’s not long before he’s sobbing into your shoulder, unable to speak, desperate to be held, to be loved, to be given the affection he’s been denied for so long. He clings to you for hours, alternately apologising and crying some more.

Once he’s calmed down enough to think straight, he realises you’ve not let him go. He begins to worry, fretting that you’re only doing this to be nice, but you still don’t let him go. He begins to relax into you, accepting that finally, finally, he can hold and be held like he needs. He’s got years of missing affection to make up for, and this is only the start. From this moment, any moment not touching you is considered a moment wasted, and Sebastian will hold your hand, link your arms together, hook your ankle over his under the table, or simply sit close enough so his arm or leg is up against yours. That is, if he’s not outright hugging you or snuggling you. For the first few months, you’ll be lucky if you get five minutes to visit the loo alone, and he gets twitchy if you’re apart from him for too long.

He's yours for life. Treat him kindly.

Ominis Gaunt

Ominis isn’t really one for physical affection, especially if you’re only friends, or in the early stages of your relationship. He’s not used to it, almost afraid of it, having never really experienced it as a child, and disliking the rough, enthusiastic, inexperienced hugs his friends give. It’s nothing like the tender affection he craves, and ever the gentleman, he’s worried about overstepping his boundaries. Ever the traumatised soul, he’s afraid of asking for what he really wants. He knows this isn’t something he can demand, as he has been taught a Gaunt would.

He doesn’t emote much, especially negative emotions. He’s always been taught to hide negative feelings or any kind of extreme emotion, and he wears that self-control like armour. But he’s not infallible, things still get to him, especially as he bottles things up. So when a particularly barbed jab from another student gets under his skin, he retreats to the Undercroft to rant at the air. This is how you find him, striding up and down and shouting at nothing, as if he’s arguing with someone.

Of course, he’s very embarrassed to be found this way, and tries to cover it by sliding back into the careful neutrality he so often wears. You know better though. You sit behind him, slide your arms around his chest, and pull him into your lap, your hand at the back of his head, letting him rest against you.

It sparks a memory he thought he’d buried. He was four, he’d tripped over and scraped his knee. His parents had scolded him for crying, growing more irate as their harsh words upset him further, and then Aunt Noctua was there, lifting him into her arms and bearing him away from the pain and the anger that was all his parents ever gave him. She’d taken him to her rooms in the Manor and settled in a chair, holding his head to her chest and humming a lullaby, soothing him with a hand on the back of his head.

It’s one of the last memories he has of her, and as it surfaces, he breaks. No matter how much he tries to pull it back, he just can’t, and your arms are iron around him, like a cage. But it’s a cage he doesn’t want to be released from, craving the warmth of your embrace, longing for the love and safety that is such a distant, fragmented memory, something that seemed like an impossible dream until now. He feels he should be embarrassed by this horrendous display of failed control, but he just can’t bring himself to care. It’s a problem for future Ominis. Right now, all he cares about is the feel of your heartbeat against his cheek, the gentle scent of your skin, the feel of your body against his as you hold him so tenderly. To his utter disbelief, you hum a gentle melody. It’s not the lullaby Noctua used to sing, but it’s soft and warm and comforting.

After this, Ominis is much more free with his affection with you, though he still keeps it to a minimum around others. If he’s ever had a bad day, or just needs comforting, he leans into you in a particular way that you come to learn means he wants to be held like that again. He knows you’ll never judge him for it, and he loves you all the more because of it. He becomes increasingly protective of you, fearing losing you, but he is ever respectful of your boundaries.

When he thinks back over all the days you spent together, he realises the time you first held him like that was the moment his subconscious mind began planning your wedding, even if he didn’t know it at the time.

Garreth Weasley

Garreth is a naturally cheerful person, and while he can get irritable, it’s over quickly and he’s back to being happy. It’s very rare for him to get upset for any significant period of time, so it’s quite a shock when you find him in his dorm, head hanging, faded tear-tracks on his cheeks. He tries to brush it off, of course, to make a joke or try to make you laugh, but you know better. You sit beside him and ask, and he tries to change the subject. But with a little prodding, he eventually tells you, grudgingly, miserably, what's made him so down.

It doesn’t take much to convince him to curl up in your arms. Garreth has always been comfortable with affection, and would probably still climb in his mum’s lap if he didn’t worry that he’d flatten her. He’s worried that he’ll squash you and takes a good while for him to relax, but once he does, he fully flops on you, murmuring soft little sounds of contentment as you rub his back or play with his hair. If you try to pull away too soon, he pretends he’s still sad so you’ll cuddle him more, even if he’s feeling on top of the world that you’d be so kind to him.

It tells him that you’re just like him, happy to snuggle and happy to do what’s needed to make him feel good, as he would for you. He feels a deeper bond with you than before, and the rest of Hogwarts can expect to find the pair of you draped over each other in all corners of the castle after this.

Leander Prewett

It’s… a little awkward to begin with, especially because an upset Leander is often a hostile Leander, as it's the way he's learned how to protect himself. You eventually convince him to let you hold him, but it takes a while. Leander is very tall with rather long limbs, so getting him in your lap in the first place is a struggle, especially as he’s so resistant to begin with. He’s already embarrassed enough by being emotional then snappy in front of you, worried that you’re going to make fun of him or worse, pretend to be nice and tease him mercilessly later. It’s the last thing he needs. But, with a little coaxing (and a bit of tugging) you manage to settle him in your lap. Yeah, the height difference is even more noticeable now, but that doesn’t matter to you. You make sure he’s comfy and hold him tight, not saying a word, just letting your hug do the talking for you.

He doesn’t tell you what set him off this time, what made him so upset. But after a long while as he curls around you, his head on your shoulder, his legs dangling over the edge of the chair or bed on which you sit, he tells you little things about his past. Some of them are happy memories or silly stories. Some of them are not. Leander bears his soul to you in bits and pieces, every word he speaks the truth, and all you need to do is listen. This is the moment he truly falls for you, a helpless, headlong tumble, and he would fight a dragon with a wooden sword to keep you from this moment on.

Amit Thakkar

Amit has always worn his heart on his sleeve, and is free with his emotions around you once you two become firm friends, or a couple. He’s a gentleman through and through, though this is mostly down to his natural shyness. He prefers to focus on you and your problems than his own, assuring you that he’s perfectly alright if you find him feeling down. You find him one evening staring down at his telescope, on the verge of tears, as the lens has cracked. He doesn't mind telling you why it's so upsetting to him, expecting a hug or maybe a pat on the back. So it’s quite the surprise to him when you pull him into your lap and snuggle him close, and at first, he’s not sure what to do with himself. He holds himself very still and stiff, and you have to encourage him to relax more than once.

He soon finds himself sinking into your embrace, comforted by your presence and your kindness, the pair of you warming each other atop the chilly Astronomy Tower. He’ll freely admit to you what’s been preying on his mind as the lens was just the straw that broke the camel's back, and shyly admit he really enjoys this particular kind of cuddle. He’ll probably doze off in your lap if you sit like this too long, and Amit is a very heavy sleeper. If he manages to stay awake, he’ll run his hand over your back, trying to reciprocate some of the attention you’re giving him, trying to say without words just how much things like this mean to him.

He won’t indulge often, he likes to be the one holding you, but it’s comforting for him to know that it’s something he can enjoy if he truly needs a pick-me-up.

Andrew Larson

In all fairness, Andrew will be climbing into your lap the moment you give the barest hint that this is what you’re going to do when he’s upset. He’s free with his affection in a more subdued way than Garreth, perhaps, but he makes no secret of how much he loves being snuggled up in your lap. He loves the security of being held, especially if you play with his hair. It’s guaranteed to cheer him up in no time at all, no matter how low he’s feeling. He loves draping his head and arms over your shoulders, and if you’re strong enough to carry him, he’ll fall in love with you if you carry him to bed when he starts to drift off.

In fact, Andrew loves this attention and affection so much he might even make himself get all teary eyed if it means you’ll draw him into your lap and rock him back and forth, even if there’s nothing actually wrong. Once he learns you’ll cuddle him the way he wants regardless if whether he’s actually upset or not, he’ll quit with the crocodile tears and swap them for happy little giggles.

Poppy Sweeting

You’ve barely put your arms around her before Poppy has slung her arms around your neck, swinging her legs up and snuggling into your chest. It’s almost as if she’s been made to fit especially in your lap, her cheek fitting perfectly into the crook of your shoulder. She might play with your hair a little to distract herself from whatever it is that’s upset her, but she’ll be honest with you if you ask what the matter is. She’s always been a cuddly sort, and regardless of whether you’re simply friends or are dating, Poppy’s always going to be giving you hugs or asking for piggyback rides (or just climbing on you anyway). This is a natural progression for the both of you, though Poppy will most likely want to do the same for you the next time you’re upset.

She’s stronger than she looks, so don’t worry about squashing her.

Natsai Onai

Natsai has always been an affectionate soul, but she’s also tough as old iron and rarely shows when she’s upset unless it’s about to overcome her. She learned in her fifth year that she could always reach out to you when she was upset, so that’s what she does. It’s still a surprise for her when you pull her into your lap to hold her, she was only expecting a friendly pat on the back or perhaps a brief hug, but your gesture is welcome nonetheless. It reminds her of the way her father would hold her when she was little, and she takes great comfort in it. It’s not something Natsai will tolerate for long, as she’s always been good at recovering from upset quickly, and being an energetic soul, it’s not long before she’s fidgeting and wanting to move about. She prefers to be the one holding you at any rate, and can sit still for hours if she does. She’s always felt much more comfortable in giving affection than receiving it, though she really does enjoy it when you do.

Imelda Reyes

Lol are you joking? When Imelda’s upset she wants to be alone, and if you try and intrude on her when she’s having a bad day or worse, actually crying, she’ll chase you all through the Highlands just to beat you up. Sure, she’ll probably apologise afterwards when she’s calmed down, but she’s got a reputation to uphold as Hogwarts’ baddest bitch, and she won’t ever let anyone see her cry, let alone in anyone’s lap. Now, if it’s you that’s upset? You can bet your arse she won’t let you get off her lap unless you’re about to pass out or are busting for a piss.

Masterlist

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #poppy sweeting #leander prewett #natsai onai #amit thakkar #andrew larson #imelda reyes #lil bit angsty #lil bit fluffy #cuddles #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy reactions

[number-onekidqueen]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐝

Part Two Part One

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

Comforting angst

warnings: character death, depression, lots of crying.

Days passed, days since your ki- hang out with Luke. 

Hang out? Who were you kidding? It was clear it wasn’t him. 

But you’d laid yourself bare to him, been about to confess all your feelings and he had just shut you down and run away. 

Of course you didn’t wanna talk about it in the morning. 

The tragedy was he did. 

And just when you were feeling better, and your conversations weren’t so awkward, fate tossed you to the ground again, as it often did. You still didn’t really believe it. 

Cecilia, your cabin counsellor, your beloved older sister had died on the road to college. It seemed impossible. 

Of course, they’d had a brief ceremony, a burning of a golden yellow shroud weaved with her own fingers. And then they’d appointed you as cabin counsellor, announced a bunch of new kids had arrived and everyone forgot. 

It made you sick to think people would forget Cecilia. That the three Apollo kids your cabin had greeted would grow up without her and never know of her presence.

Obviously, your cabin was upset, but they didn’t make it so as Aphrodite always did. The sun keeps shining, and Apollo kids kept going, laughing, training, even if muffled sobs could be heard the first few nights. They never talked of her, and after the first week, she was a sad little scar that had scabbed. 

It still hurt a little, but the memory was what hurt the most. 

Except for you. She was still a mortal, lethal wound for you. And it was getting harder and harder to keep your composure and pretend everything was okay. 

Shortly, it all cracked and spilled out from you. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault really. Chiron was just trying to be supportive to little Will, but when he praised enthusiastically that he was the best archer he’d scene for 300 years, tears seemed to burst from you. 

Because that had been Cecilia’s title. She had been the best archer, training all the little ones supportively and making people gasp with the precision of her shots. 

It seemed Chiron had already forgotten. Everyone had. 

It was like losing her all over again. 

No one saw the little sun cracking on the archery field. They just noticed you disappearing behind some clouds. 

You didn’t pay attention to the stares and whiplash glances of some, as you ran back to your cabin with tears streaming, and your heart in your throat. 

Didn’t notice as a tall brunette boy on the sword plains spotted you, dropped his sword immediately and with a shouted apology behind him began to sprint after you. 

Your bed was warm and comforting, the covers swaddled around your shoulders in a safe cocoon as you sobbed your heart and soul onto your pillow. 

Cecelia was dead. Dead. This is what you would deal with every day for the rest of your life, she was dead and she would be replaced and forgotten and no one would even know her and-

The door creaked open and immediately you stilled, pretending to be asleep. 

“Y/N?” It was Luke. 

Not the timing, you thought to yourself miserably. 

“Y-yeah,” you tried for a sleepy yawn, but it came out cracked and pained. Ugh. 

“You ok?” He asked quietly, and you heard his footsteps approach. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just woke up.” But your voice was hollow and very much awake. 

He sat softly at the edge of your bed, and for a while you were both still. Only your breath was audible. Then, tentatively and slowly, you began to feel his warm fingers slide through your hair. It was so comforting and lovely that you had to swallow down the wave of tears that surfaced. 

“It’s okay, you know,” he murmured, your hair in glorious tangles around his knuckles, “to cry. You don’t have to pretend. Especially for me.”

“Yeah, I know,” you whispered back, “it’s just-“ you hesitated. 

I love you. 

I don’t want to burden you with all my stupid problems. 

“You probably don’t want to talk about this to anyone, right? Me included.” He guessed, and he began to retract his fingers and you felt like screaming at how utterly wrong he was. “I’m sorry, I should give you space.”

“No, you don’t have to. You can stay here.” You tried not to beg, but you were inches from clinging onto him to stop his departure. He understood. 

“Would you like me to stay?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Then here I’m staying. In your bed.” He reassured comfortingly, “I mean, on.” 

His flustered stuttering made you smile weakly and turn to face him. 

His whole face softened, lost all his fluster and stress when your eyes met, but you were too busy setting your head into his lap so you faced up at him to notice. 

He traced your tear tracks, brushing any remaining ones away with his thumbs. 

“I know the pain feels awful,” he said suddenly, “but if you ever feel bad, like you can’t breathe or you’re about to burst, don’t keep it in y/n, come find me. I’m always here for you, always.”

“Thank you.” You said near inaudibly. 

“I hate seeing you cry,” he confessed, his forehead crinkling, “or being sad. It just hurts me. But I love making you feel better, I’d do anything in the world to make you happy, I promise.”

“Thank you.” You said louder this time, your cheeks beginning to heat up. 

It was a peaceful few seconds you gazed at each other, smiling. Then you closed your eyes, comforted. 

You felt warm hands lift your body, and your eyes fluttered open. But it was just Luke lying down beside you and repositioning yourself on his chest. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, “just figured we might be here for a while.”

His arms encircled you, and even in your drunken state of misery, your heart rate sped up. You turned your head slightly, so you could hide your bashful grin in the orange folds of his shirt. His chest was warm, comforting, and you could feel every deep breath he took. 

“Sorry,” you murmured, facing up once more, “your shirt’s probably going to be all soggy after this.”

“I don’t mind a soggy shirt if it makes you happy.” He breathed, and your heart was bursting from the love that statement invoked when you saw his eyes flicker. Your eyes. Your mouth. 

Could he really-

Surely not-

Eyes. Mouth. 

The air was electric, as if Zeus himself was in the cabin. The space was getting tighter and smaller and everything was so close and dizzy and what in the gods before you knew it you were nose to nose and you could feel his warm breath and he was leaning down to kiss you against the pillow. 

It might’ve been the best kiss you ever had. With salt on your tongue, and sweetness from his lips, the tastes of all your emotions were combined, giving way to the most passionate and fantastic kiss you’d ever had. Your head was pressed to the pillow, and he was moving above you, warm, soft and pouring his heart out to you, the gateway his lips. It seemed every single ‘I love you’ either of you had ever been too afraid to say was expressed strongly now, each drop of attraction and love and feeling was encapsulated between the movement of your lips. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay,” he breathed, against your lips, when you finally pulled apart, both of you panting, “I didn’t want to do anything while you were drunk. But of course I wanted to. I wanted you. I have for so long.”

“It’s okay. I have too,” and you laughed, all those emotions and secrets finally free. You were so giddy with joy! But Luke remained tense, nervous for a reason you couldn’t determine. You calmed down, scared it was all about to come crashing down. 

“It’s- it’s not just that, y/n,” he paused, sitting up further away, eyes still looking profoundly into yours, “I love you. I love you, all of you, and you should know that to me you’ve never been a burden, only a miracle to have been with.” 

Your breath was caught in your throat, blown away by his confession. You were expecting he might’ve been crushing on you? But loving you? You’d never dared to consider that as an option. And you were beyond thrilled. 

“Now would be a great time to say anything,” he laughed nervously, fingers brushing over your shoulders restlessly. You immediately felt awful for keeping him waiting. 

“I love you too.” You blurted, letting silence ensue. “You make me so happy every time you make a joke or take care of the new unclaimed kids. I’m just in shock.”

And then the pair of you were laughing together, foreheads pressed together before you were tangled in an embrace, that led to another heated kiss on your bed.

You knew soon other campers would arrive to see two head counselors kissing, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. In fact, while Luke’s like we’re on yours, you couldn’t seem to form any coherent thoughts at all. 

In the back of your mind, you were still sobbing over Cecilia. Deeply, you knew you always would. Your heart would always be chipped in that way, the missing fragment forever in her fist as she wandered Elysium. 

But you also knew how happy she would be to see you thriving, dating and loving Luke, a boy she had always suggested and approved of. She imagined her now, giggling in delight and grinning at what had transpired. And slowly, the pain began to lift. 

Maybe a scar would be okay, as long as you loved and remembered it. 

Most of all, you knew that for as long as you required a shoulder to make soggy, Luke would always be there to be your comfort person. 

taglist:

@lifeonawhim

@sflame15-blog

@star611

I think this was all, if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just comment or message me :)

#luke castellan #pjo luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #pjo show #tlt #pjo series #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo disney + #pjo disney series #pjo disney show #i made this one a lil less angsty #and our bbys got together so #i think i'll create a character base and plot line sorta thing for this and call it sunshineverse #will release headcanons and a playlist soon <3 #thank you for reading along #pjo

[marcobodtlives]

AoT things I send people when I don’t know how to human and text normally:

#I did Marco so dirty in that gif #it’s funniest when sent to someone who’s never seen aot and doesn’t know what’s happening #even funnier when they’ve watched aot but haven’t gotten to the s3 ep from Bertholdt’s pov so they have no idea of the context #my fav is actually that one of Jean covering his ears but that’s too angsty for this comedic little post #the amount of 🫦 pics I have is insane and growing further out of hand I fear #and by 🫦 I mean stupid lil edits of characters doing the lip bite not actually spicy pics get ur mind out the gutter #aot memes #aot reaction pics #reaction pics #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #annie leonhart #marco bodt #armin arlert #eren jaeger #sasha braus #connie springer #jean kirschtein #reiner braun #or if you wanna be funky: #marco bott #eren jeager #eren yeager #sasha blouse #conny springer #jean kirstein

[twomystdunstans]

i killed duck

#lil standalone comic page of one of my favorite angsty bits from Amnesty #I FUCKING. TRIED W TH BACKGROUND OK LEAVE ME ALONE IK ITS SUBPAR #aubrey little #taz amnesty #aubrey taz #taz #the adventure zone #taz amnesty spoilers #taz: amnesty #taz:amn #the adventure zone amnesty #taz aubrey #the lady flame #taz lady flame

[bloodsoeur]

the shepherd, the black sheep gn!reader, 2k

“Oh, come on now. It’s ok. They’ll come back, or they won’t.’ He sidles over and sits next to you. A toothy grin.  ‘It could be worse. We could be here without each other.” - a plummet into a chasm leaves you and your light-fingered friend stuck. together, you wonder if you'll ever emerge again.

word count: 2,054

as always, a big thank you to the nonnie who sent me the prompt: 'Tav/Reader & Astarion get trapped together somewhere during a mission and have to deal with the isolation and anxiety of waiting to be rescued by their other companions' - i hope i did it justice <3

-

He rolls his thumb and forefinger as he casts an absent glare into your makeshift fire. Sniffs. Whets his lips.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” He asks into the open space. 

You’re on the other side of the cavern, triple checking for access points you may have missed on your prior patrols.

It’s been a fraught few days but with the rescue of Halsin came much-needed information. A path to the heart of the Absolute. Finally your journey had a destination, and you’d started to gather momentum in knowing you had a set route to travel.

If Astarion’s revelation had only come a little later there’s no doubt your friends would be clamouring to save you both now.

He knows the camp is wary of him, even more so than before. You made clear in no uncertain terms that anyone unhappy with his vampiric presence was welcome to leave the party as soon as they pleased. He heard the rumbles, the whispers. The staunch distaste for your decision and the following questions on your capacity to make them.

The threat of a power vacuum seems only amplified by your current situation.

Lost in a deep cavern following a fall from a hefty chunk of loose rock, just the two of you. The shepherd, the black sheep. Your companions promising to return but with little by way of a plan to do so. 

It was only your decision to cast Feather Fall prior to crossing that you both survived the plummet.

He is simultaneously overwhelmed with gratitude, and furious beyond measure. 

Overwhelmed to the point of nausea. Deep, horrid nausea that seeps into his bones every time he’s conscious of it. A pounding headache, a splitting skull, a million times ‘why’; the way you reach for his hand in the darkest nights and it feels like a balm. Your neck on a platter. You listen to him and it feels as if the gods finally heard his call.

Incensed - pitifully - because he wishes with hindsight that he’d found a means to stop you casting the spell. He’d finally be dead, somewhere Cazador would never find him; and whatever tale the sordid scars on his back told would rot with him. He’d be left in peace in this cool, damp darkness and nothing would be able to mutilate any part of him again, minus the rats that’d very likely feast on his corpse.

How very funny. It almost seemed a shame to deprive himself of experiencing that one while still having a brain. The irony.

There’s peace here, in the drip-drops and the echoes. An ambience of sorts. A spacious tomb for his undead soul to frolic and haunt for all eternity. Maybe he’d set up his tent so he’d have somewhere for his ethereal spirit to lounge, put the bottles and bedrolls out. He did fall with his pack, after all. 

But you’d be dead, too.

He’d suffer the fall twice. Break his own neck, garrotte himself in unholy witness of whichever reaper came for you. Slam onto the floor of the cavern, repeatedly; until whatever remained of his mangled brain could be assured of your own safety and he could finally fucking die.

Having something to die for.

Now that’s a novel concept.

You amble your way back over to him, rubbing your forearm as you search the darkness mindlessly.

“Don’t know. They’re under no obligation to, I suppose.”

“Easy way to do away with us.” Astarion ponders.

“You might just be right.”

You sink to the floor, wrapping your arms around now-crossed legs and exhaling softly.

“Oh, come on now. It’s ok. They’ll come back, or they won’t.’

He sidles over and sits next to you. A toothy grin. 

‘It could be worse. We could be here without each other.”

When he says this, he expects you to flail your arms and chide him for his ill-timed attempt at humour. Tell him that you’d rather be here with anyone else in camp, that you hate the fact you’re so uncertain as to whether they’re coming back for you. Freak out in the way mortals often do. Reveal all those horrid little doubts over your staunch protection of him that he fears are stewing under the skin.

Instead, you meet his eyes and freely give a small smile. 

“Right again. Making a habit of this.”

“I’ll be careful darling. I wouldn’t want to set expectations now, would I?”

He can tell you’re uneasy, but he doesn’t seem to be the cause. Not remotely. If your body is anything to go by then he’s a solace here for you. 

For some reason, that suspicion makes him feel warmer. 

You look over the packs. You’re unsure how long you’ll be down here, or whether you should be preparing for the worst case scenario where food is concerned; but hunger pangs are worming their way through you already and you’re cursing the single coffee you had back at camp.

You’d like to think your new friends wouldn’t leave you here. Obviously far too optimistic a perspective for someone with a mind flayer parasite currently lodged in their head, but without hope you wager you’d very quickly become completely despondent.

In your mind, either possibility is a very real one. 

Astarion tilts his head to the side to make room for your own atop his shoulder.

The gesture surprises you in its intimacy. Not that you’ve noticed in any way aside from the purely observational, but his desire for physical contact seems relegated to that which is utterly necessary and nothing more.

The nights he has touched you have felt so.

This doesn’t feel necessary.

But it’s welcome, nonetheless.

“What can I do, my sweet? How can we make - this - easier.” He poses with a hint of a playful tone.

“I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you are, Astarion.”

He shakes his head and smiles with mirth.

“No, no. Not unless that was a proposition on your part?”

He turns and looks down at you softly.

“Maybe later. I’m just cold.” You speak with little conviction.

No emotion, just absence. He wonders if you’re actually considering letting him warm you through. A service he finds himself surprisingly willing to offer, wanting to even; his brain struggling to consider it a service when he’d derive such genuine pleasure from burying his icy fingers deep into the valleys of your warm flesh, head reverently planting kisses on your heated belly; holding your blazing torso against his. Tarse twitches. 

Astarion hums.

“I could try to make you something, if you like?”

You scoff, a slight smile returning to your cheeks.

“Thank you, but I’ll decline. Tell me when the last time you cooked was again?”

He errs a little, wobbling his head and gesticulating softly.

“Details, darling, details.”

You both sit in silence for a few moments, undoubtedly thinking the same things. Mulling over the choices that led you here. There’s a fondness, though. A lack of regret. What will be, will be. 

“Was there wine in your pack?” You break the silence. 

His head perks up.

“Fancy a lock-in?” He grins cattishly. 

For the first time since your fall, you smile completely uninhibited.

“Gods, I think so. Not much else to be done, is there?”

-

It’s cosy. 

Inside Astarion’s tent are both bedrolls, plus whatever cushions and blankets you could find within your bags of holding; and copious bottles of wine plucked unceremoniously from the stockpile before heading out.

“I didn’t know if they’d take it as an opportunity to mutiny. Cast me aside, leave me to die. I had to take some of the good stuff with me just in case.” He grins.

“I can’t believe I’m so glad to find out you’ve been stealing from the group’s resources.” You lean back, enjoying the warmth of the fire on your icy flesh.

He scoffs.

“What?! It’s hardly an ongoing pursuit.’

He sips. Lowers his voice.

‘I don’t particularly want to give them more of a reason to stake me.” 

Hearing his resigned tone makes your heart ache a little.

“They’d have to stake me too. I’d move too fast for that, obviously.” You mimic quick gestures with your hands, monk-style. He splutters on his wine. 

“What on earth was that?”

“A demonstration of my battle prowess?”

You chop again with your hands, moving quicker as he folds with laughter.

“The focus in your eyes, darling. It’s remarkable.” He breathes heavily.

“Obviously? I’m ensuring they can’t stake either of us?” 

You commit to the bit, chopping in the space all around you until your companion has tears in his eyes and is gasping for unnecessary breath.

“Thank gods I have a hero like you to protect me, hm? My knight in shining armour.” He practically purrs, wiping the tears and resting on his elbow.

“Just be thankful you’re not the one who has to fight against these hands.” You shake your head and dust them off with exaggerated finesse. 

“I’d feel sorry for the poor bastard who does.”

He likes how absolutely ridiculous you are at this moment. It’s sobering. Two hundred years and he hasn’t seen someone with quite the ability to create a levity like you just brought to the situation.

Your devotion - though used in jest - doesn’t pass him by unnoticed, either.

A beat of silence.

You pour another big goblet of wine and stare into the abyss.

“What if we are just stuck down here?”

He ruminates, running his tongue over his teeth.

“Then we have three options.’

He looks at you.

‘One. We find a way to climb that crag right to the very top.’

You both look up to where he points. Above you, minus some jutting rock, is a chasm as wide as the sky.

‘Two. We repopulate down here somehow and create our very own race of awfully mutilated creatures to fool the gang into thinking it’s someone else they lost down here. We can’t replicate Gale exactly, obviously, but I think they’ll begin to look similar after a couple generations of natural inbreeding.’

You pull a face and shiver. He shrugs.

“Three. We get cosy, and go out happy. There’s nothing we can do from here.”

Astarion lifts his chalice in a moribund toast, gesturing for yours to meet him in the air.

“I’m grateful you’re here.” Your cup clinks against his.

A moment’s silence. 

“I’m grateful it’s you.”

He looks at you once more. 

He could’ve been down here with anyone. Most of them would have staked him immediately. Said the Feather Fall had worn off, that nothing could be done. He’d have been left here, dead, with nobody to remember the only weeks of freedom belonging to him in the last two hundred years of his miserable existence.

But there’s you. There’s always you.

He wonders how you would react. Whether you’d shrug and remain stoic, returning back to the wants of the masses, just another fallen body. Throw some nightshade into the abyss in memory and move on.

Of course you wouldn’t.

“I don’t regret it, you know.” You speak as you sip, still looking up into the cavern’s sky.

“I- Thank you.’

You sit in silence for a few minutes, the drip-drops of the cavern a calm backdrop.

‘Between friends - you’re a little in love with me, aren’t you?”

You swallow a gulp of wine and wobble your head. Gesture lazily into the air around you.

“Not yet, no.”

He moves to object, but is caught mid-breath. 

“We’re doomed anyway. What if I said it? Those three little words?”

You laugh and sip again.

“What the hells. I’d say it back. Hope we live long enough to see it play out.”

Astarion looks at you fondly. There’s a genuine reverence in his eyes, soft and considered; and for the first time you see no barriers. If there’s a future in which the two of you don’t starve to death then he sees you there aside him.

“I love you.”

You bring his palm to your cheek and hold it there for a moment, closing your eyes and nuzzling against it.

“I love you, too.”

He swills the last of his current chalice in his mouth and swallows, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it reverently.

“Now we drink, and we wait.”

-

#astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 #my writing #angst #lil bitta fluff #mainly angsty