#hope i put that lov into this piece

[ebysse]

snape celebration week 4 - the martyr

hugely inspired by the talented @ofnightsndsongs 's work 'Assassination Attempt'

“the man he hated”

#harry pov. #HHHHUUUUUU ok i confess. i fell in love with this death scene at 11 n never looked back #in a series where everyone gets avada zapped #OUR MAN GETS A PROPER ANGST SEND OFF #the aesthetics! the optics! the shrieking shack setting symbolism! djfhfhkfkhfj #hope i put that lov into this piece #also. massive fan of hiding the eyes for artistic effect…. #mine #severus snape #snape #hp fanart #snapecelebration2023 #harry potter #blood

[avocado-writing]

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to overhear his gn crush saying how they're sure it's unrequited love as much as they love HIM?

OH so soft! yes absoloutely, enjoy!

Astarion

now to be fair. he is a bit smug to overhear that you love him.

but he's also... touched? that you, lovely you, would feel that way about him?

obviously he's been trying to seduce you and everything, but he's pleased to hear that it's worked, but why does he feel so warm? happy?

maybe he waits until a casual moment between the two of you, when he feels like he can confess and it isn't too heavy, and he just lets out a little "I love you too, you know."

you stop. he can hear the way your blood pumps.

"...oh..." your eyes are wide, looking at the floor.

he takes your hand and it makes you look up at him, and then he brings you in for a kiss.

he can feel how relieved you are. and he's so happy to be part of something real, something requited.

Gale

overhears you and wants to say something about it immediately, but won't interrupt in person...

so he just uses a Sending instead.

"I hope you don't mean that, because I am desperately in love with you. only a fool wouldn't be."

you freeze and your eyes flit over to where he's standing, face as open as a book with his love for you.

you excuse yourself from your conversation and he follows, seeing how embarrassed you are, you tell him he wasn't meant to hear you, you just had to get it off of your chest...

he takes your hand and pulls you in for a long kiss. if you won't believe his words, maybe you'll believe his actions.

you melt into him. just melt, and the two of you stay together like that.

longest that Gale's been quiet for ages...

Wyll

he does interrupt, because he can't stand to hear you talk about yourself like that.

asks for a private word.

takes you to a seculded location and sees how uncomfortable you are, tilts your chin up to look him in the eyes, wants you to see the sincerity when he speaks.

"I'm sorry if I gave you the impression I did not love you. I do, in fact. most ardently."

he will tell you about the moment that made him fall in love with you, all the things you do that make him fall a little deeper every day.

as he speaks he watches the way your body relaxes, your eyes get hopeful.

when he finishes speaking you press your lips to his in a kiss, and it's the sweetest first kiss imaginable.

Halsin

he's an old elf at this point. he hasn't got the patience to let you wallow in uncertainty.

if he hears you say you love him, and he feels the same, he will let you know immediately.

finds an excuse to have the two of you be together. maybe to gather firewood.

when you're alone he will instigate physical contact - brushing your hair out of your face or something like that

when you respond positively, he will move to cup your face, look properly into your eyes.

"my heart. I need you to know that whatever you feel for me, it is reciprocated a hundred times over. you make my blood stir in a way I had quite forgotten..."

you should kiss him now. he will return it. the two of you will spend some time alone together in the forest, getting to know each other more intimately...

Dammon

oh, Dammon. he's so shocked.

him? you love him?

wants to make a big gesture but doesn't know how. probably asks Karlach for advice.

in the end he smiths you a special piece of jewellery and gifts it to you the next time you're together alone. maybe he even invites you on a date specially!

he tries to get to the point about how he feels but rambles on... eventually you reach out to hold his hand and it gives him courage...

he gives you the jewellery and sees your eyes light up. he offers to put it on you. fingers linger on your skin.

"you know, I lov..." "I know, Dammon. I know."

you can't stop beaming. he's never been happier.

Rolan

annoyed!

why can't you just be upfront with him about this! he obviously loves you back!

oh... loves you? hmmm. that's news to him. but of course he does! you're brilliant! how can't you see that?

has a couple of drinks one night for courage and then goes to find you. it is not an eloquent confession.

"I overheard you the other day! and I want you to know I feel the same way! about you! love, that is >:("

you stand there, fucking bamboozled, before dragging him in by the collar for a kiss.

he smiles so hard and you can feel it as your lips meet.

"silly boy," you sigh, fondly, and kiss him again before he can complain.

Zevlor

another old man who doesn't want to waste time.

he loves you. of course he loves you. there's no point hiding it, if there's a chance the two of you can be happy.

when he has a spare, quiet moment with you, certain nobody can overhear, he speaks sincerely.

"i do not know what I could offer which would make me worthy of your love, but I swear I will work every day until I am."

oh, he is so sweet. you collapse into his arms for a kiss. your strong, brave paladin <3

#Zevlor x reader #zevlor bg3 x reader #Zevlor x tav #dammon x reader #damon bg3 x reader #Dammon x tav #rolan x tav #rolan x reader #rolan bg3 x reader #gale of waterdeep x reader #Gale of waterdeep x tav #Astarion x reader #astarion x tav #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #wyll x tav #wyll x reader #wyll ravengard x reader #my writing #Long post #bg3 imagine #Gale x reader #Gale x tav

[s-4pphics]

click! finale (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black, parental trauma, self-worth issues, slight disordered eating, brief alcoholism and hypersexuality, heavy grief, pining but depressed

A/N: finally on break yaassss….. sequel? LOL 

The air around you is strangling. You haven’t left your room in two days. You’re not passing this semester. 

The room next to yours, however, is filled with life. Ellie’s back to blasting her music and banging on walls, but you have yet to cross paths. Not in class, not at home; You haven’t seen her. Pickle never hesitates to scratch at your door for hugs. And kisses. She’s brought you so much comfort, even in times where you feel like you’re undeserving. 

Christmas is around the corner, and you’re alone. Amaya never shied away from taking you home for her breaks, but she’s gone. She hasn’t called in a while; You hope she’s doing okay. 

So, you seek escape in a different way and do what you haven’t in a long time. 

Tears flood your vision, your thumb hovering over a number you haven’t touched in ages. Your hands won’t stop trembling. You’re going to regret this. Your heart's already breaking into pieces at the heart and cloud emojis of the contact. 

Soft paws knead your thighs and you kiss kit-kat’s tiny head as she nuzzles your chin. You’re trying to keep your sobs to a minimum, but they’re tearing your throat to shreds.

Your thumb comes down on the contact and the line rings. And rings… and rings until the dial tone sounds. 

“At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, you may hang up or press one for more options.”

You knew no one would answer. No one ever answers, but still, you listen for her voice. The steadiness of her breathing. You take a shaky breath, “Hi, mom.” Mindless sentences pour out of you like a waterfall. You just sit there and allow Pickle to playfully bite your finger. 

“I, uh… I’m not…” Another sob, “I’m not doing well.” 

You would never say that if she were here. You always masked your true feelings for her sake; She never needed any additional stress. 

Void images of your father reoccur in your memory, “I think there’s something wrong with me… I don’t think I’m a g-good person.” A barbed tongue affectionately licks at your finger, and you try to smile. 

“I… We found a kitty in the snow,” You whisper, “She's the cutest thing ever.” Pickle looks up like she knows what you’re saying, and you weep at her delicate eyes. 

“It was the weirdest thing…” You huff wetly, “It felt like you put her there to stop me from making a mistake.” More tears flood your shut eyes. 

“I just miss you…” Your palm digs into your eye, “and I wish you w-were here. I’m not…” Pickle climbs to rest in your lap; You always did that with your mom for comfort. Another loud sob. 

“I lov— “

You jolt at the loud dial tone, and the line ends. You drop your phone on your blanket and search around your room, the portrait of your mother standing tall on your desk. You need to make another one for her birthday. 

Your eyes travel over your space, and for the first time, you don’t feel comfort. Your mind is racing with thoughts that expose your truth; They’re vile and dirty and they make you feel like scum. A disease walking. 

The dark nights are restless and the days are silent, halls only filled with soft purrs and pattering paws. 

Your home no longer holds the joy that it once did when Amaya was here. Excitement used to burst through you whenever she prepped your movie nights after work, the living room filled with laughter and corny love lines that made your stomach secretly twist with warmth. 

You’re not happy anymore. Anxiety brews in you whenever you walk into the kitchen, the living room, go to feed and snuggle Pickle. It’s fucking miserable in here, and as difficult as it was for you to admit, it’s all your fault. 

It’s almost finals week, and you’re nowhere near prepared. You can’t focus on anything except the treacherous silence of your space. It’s almost like Ellie’s already gone. 

You should be anticipating her departure, antsy to have your space to yourself again, but your chest aches. This past month was anything but smooth, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. For some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to live your main character moment, even if it was just for a few hours.  

Ellie, as much as you hate to admit it, deserves better. Just like how you deserve to spend your life alone, trapped and secluded with your own thoughts. She should want better for herself; Nothing is worse than being in your presence; Maybe that’s why you have no one. 

You desperately want to do better for yourself, but you’re tired. Your mother would be so disappointed in you. You retire from wallowing and climb under the covers, Pickle clutched tightly to your chest. You hope she doesn’t mind the tears from your tee.  

The portfolio is finished. Ellie can’t stop staring at the booklet enclosed in leather on her desk. 

The online submission process was infuriating, mainly due to her laptop dying during the portfolio render, but it’s done. Her ticket into a life-changing position is no longer hers to judge; It can only go up from here. 

All she needs is that phone call from the recruiting manager and it’s over. She’ll be in the city in no time. She’s excited and jittery; Every buzz from her phone is met with clenched hands and a sweaty forehead. Her disappointment heals when she sees her father’s classic thumbs up emojis surrounded by black and red hearts; Even from miles away, he knows when she needs support. 

Ellie lays her forehead on the leather, sighing in relief for what seems like the billionth time. It’s a surreal feeling, relishing in accomplishments. She's never done it, mainly because her mother never wanted to acknowledge happenings she wasn’t the center of. Hearing congratulations is still a mindfuck years later. 

… Your photos looked stunning. You’re made for this, even if you don’t believe it. 

Ellie will never admit how much energy she put into editing those pictures, specifically the ones you’re in. She spent hours recoloring, scaling, sharpening those photos, and they turned out incredible. Probably some

of the best shots she’s ever taken, and you’re in the center. And your eyes… There’s so much light in those hazel specks. 

Another mindfuck. 

Whenever Ellie comes home, she checks the small space between the floor and door of your bedroom to see if you’re awake. If you’re alive. The relief she feels when she sees a lamp light or shadow eases the tension in her shoulders. 

She never knocks, though. Never. 

So why are you? 

Ellie’s back instantly straightens at the soft pats on her door, heart pounding in her ears. You never knock. 

She’s embarrassed at how fast she stands, chair nearly falling over as she flies to pull her door open. 

She’s met with you; She hopes you can’t hear the shatters from her chest at the sight of your disheveled appearance. Your hair is matted and the brunette river in your eyes are surrounded by redness

“Sorry, I—“ Your voice cracks like you haven’t spoken in ages, “She was lying there and I felt bad. She missed you, I think.” She’s never heard you sound so tedious. You’re always the loudest, goofiest person in the room. Ellie’s brows furrow before following your line of vision. Pickle’s sleep in front of her door, curled like a cinnamon roll. Ellie sighs as picks her up as fluidly

as she can, trying her best not to wake her. 

“You’re gonna have to take her when you leave.” 

Devastation sets in your tone as you stare at the little fur ball, “Why?” She asks. 

“My dad’s allergic.” You whisper.

Ellie peers down when Pickle stirs, “Is… is he visiting?” She asks, just as quietly. 

Your head shakes, “I’m going home.” 

Ellie does an impeccable job of hiding her shock. So many questions race in her mind: going home? Where’s home for you? Is it permanent? Are you moving out? When? Are you and your dad close? 

You’re turning away back into your room, but Ellie blurts out before you can shut the door. “I finished my portfolio! It’s… it’s done. I turned it in.” 

You turn, and your eyes are watery. Your smile is tiny, but genuine. “Congratulations,” you’re so quiet and your voice shakes. Ellie’s mind whirls, “They’re gonna love it.” You take one last look at Pickle, and your bottom lip wobbles. You shut and lock the door before Ellie can say thank you for helping me. 

Ellie’s eyes lock onto the floor, watching your lamp turn off, ears honing in on the shuffling of blankets. She swiftly scurries inside her space when she hears crying. 

Her chest concaves at the sobs echoing through the dark, silent halls. Through the thin wall as she sets the kitty on her favorite pillow to sleep on. She paces around her room and yanks at her pinky. How she wishes to be a fly on the wall; She wants to knock on your door so badly, but she doesn’t know what to say. How to comfort. She's always relied on her father for that. 

So, she just listens with regret and makes her final decision.

If you move from this counter, you’ll faceplant into hardwood. You don’t like the blaringly loud song coming from above, so you down another seltzer. It’s distracting enough. 

You feel yourself leaning forward, so you force yourself back up, practically flung over the counter. You’re never drinking again, you promise yourself. How many times has that one been broken? You don’t remember. You miss Ellie. 

You’re going to fall again, but this time, you’re supported. And not by the counter. You instantly relax at the familiar scent. 

Abby’s mumbling something about something, but it sounds like gibberish. You throw your arms around her neck, inhaling deeply; You miss Ellie terribly. 

We gotta get you outta here. You frown; You don’t want to leave! The party just started! 

Her strong arms wrap around your waist to maneuver you. You’re not sure where she's taking you, but you don’t fight. You simply allow her to snatch your heels off and carry you into the piercing-sharp cold. Just allow her to drag you to safety. You wish it was Ellie. 

The world around you moves in a blur; The pace is making you dizzy. You don’t want to vomit in Abby’s car. When did she get a car? 

“Abby…” 

“Yeah, hun? You good?” She sounds so far away. Your mumbles are incoherent. She's so confused, so she asks you to repeat it. 

You face her from the passenger seat with a sultry grin. You miss Ellie, “I missed you.” Your words are garbled and your hands are as loose as your tongue, shakily landing on her muscular thigh, massaging the skin. 

Abby tenses with a sigh, planting a gentle hand on your traveling one. Her grip tightens when you try to move. “Did you really?” 

That's your green light. Your smile grows as you clumsily unbuckle your seatbelt, “Stop… stop the car.” 

Abby’s foot plants on the break, and you jerk forward. Like the night you found Pickle. Like when Ellie… 

“What’s the matter?” 

I miss my roommate. “I’m horny.” 

Your friend scoffs and shakes her head. Either you’re too drunk or she’s disappointed… Not the reaction you were seeking. Your smile tries to fade, but you force the corners of your mouth back up. 

“No, you’re not.” She snaps, and it takes you a second to catch it. Abby’s upset again. What the fuck did you do this time? Your facade finally falters. Now you’re irritated. 

“How’re y… how’re you gonna tell me what the fuck I am?” You sound like a fucking idiot, but your rage ignites your slurs, “If you don’t want me, why’re you here!” 

“Because you fucking called and I’m your friend! I didn’t wanna leave you by yours— “

“You should’ve!” Your shriek is piercing; You’re shocked the windows didn’t shatter and slice you both. 

“That’s how you fucking feel? Really?” 

You try to swallow tears, but they flow. The words you want to say are on the tip of your tongue; Thank you for coming to get me. I’m sorry for being awful. Don’t leave me by myself. 

But none of them escaped. They sit and rot in your throat. You’ve never seen Abby so… 

And she doesn’t let up, “Now you wanna cry? Are you serious?” There’s fire in her eyes; It burns in a way you’re not used to, especially not her, “This victim shit is getting very old— “

“I don’t care!” 

“I don’t fucking care, either! If you wanna keep getting used like a piece of meat by random bitches, then do that! Leave me the fuck out of it!” Abby slams her hand down on the armrest, and the car doors unlock, “Matter of fact, get the fuck out!” 

“Fuck you!” 

“Fuck YOU! Get out! Get the fuck out!” 

Curses and heated exclamations leave the two of you until you wobbly exit the vehicle, slamming the door as hard as your brain would allow. The wind blows like tacks, stabbing through the skin of your bare arms and chest. Abby zooms off, and you scream. 

You dig in your pocket for your phone, ineptly dialing Ellie’s number. It’s fucking one in the morning

“… Hello?” She was asleep. Your heart eases at the steadiness of her tone. 

You’re shivering, “… E—Ellie?” 

“Hm?” 

“I’m… I’m really cold and I don’t,” sob, “I dunno where I am— “

“What do you mean?” She asks abruptly, alert. Your heart flutters. 

You whimper, “I’m lost, I don’t… I’m a bad person— “

“Send me your location. Where’re your keys?” 

“I— I don’t remember— “

“Are you drunk right now?” 

“Yes,” You mumble meekly. This is so fucking embarrassing. 

Ellie sighs heavily, “Just… Is there somewhere you can wait until I get there?” 

You search through tears, finding mostly dark retail stores and restaurants across the street… Except Jack in the Box! The munchies hotspot never fails you. 

“There’s a Jack in the Crack over there.” You point like she can see you. She snickers softly. 

“Go, then. I’ll be there soon, okay?” 

“Wait! Don’t… don’t hang up, please, I’m scared— “

“I wasn’t going to.” 

You closely listen to the shuffling on the other line as you wobbly trek across the street. You sharply inhale at every slip and stumble on your journey, almost sobbing through every confirmation to Ellie’s small are you okay? 

You finally make it inside and thank God that it’s warm. You take a seat and sigh at the familiar jingle of keys. 

“You in there?” 

“Mhm.” 

“I’m coming, send me where you are.” 

“K.” 

It takes you longer than it should’ve to get her the location thanks to the Casa in your system, but she’s on the way… You really want curly fries. Fuck. 

You hate how your thoughts wander, self-loathing at the forefront of your lobe. You take after your father more than you thought: a filthy, lying train wreck. You’ve ruined every glimmer of hope, of positive influence around you, and you’re forced to bathe in the treachery you’ve created all over again. 

“Hey.” 

You leap out of your seat at Ellie’s raspy tone, seeing your hoodie draped over her forearm and keys dangling in her hand. Your tummy growls when you wave. Ellie’s gaze softens. “Hungry?” She hands you the hoodie for you to throw on. You nod. 

“What do you wanna eat?” 

“… Fries,” you croak, “Curly, please.” 

Ellie nods and waddles to the service counter. You watch her backside under her puffer as she pays and collects a small baggie and water before nodding towards the car. You follow close behind her in silence, munching on your snack. 

The ride back home is silent, but for once, the air isn’t deadly. You’re eased back from your breakdown, and it’s definitely not due to the forest in your roommate’s vision. 

You enter your warm apartment and get greeted with soft purrs, Kit-Kat skipping over to rub against your leg. It’s almost enough to make you break down all over again; You can’t believe you have to say goodbye to her next week. 

You kick your sneakers off and squat down to her level, “I love you so much, baby girl. Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper and pet her head, all the way down to her tail. She meows like she loves you. Ellie shuts the door and watches you silently. You turn to face her. For the first time, she doesn't fidget at your inspection.

Her eyes are much glossier and she’s picking at the skin on her pinky. She wants to say something. 

“You okay?” You murmur, and Ellie nods. You don’t believe her. Her eyes are downcast. Why does she look so nervous? 

The silence is killing you, so you speak. 

“Ellie, I’m… I’m sorry for everything,” You stand and ramble. “I’m the worst roommate imaginable and I-I’m terrible and impulsive and I fucking suck, but I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” 

I also kinda like you. 

Not even your word vomit lets that slip. So, you apologize, sloppily and snot-filled. Tears drip down your face in waterfalls, “I’m— I don't wanna go... and I don’t want you to go…”

Ellie’s timid facade breaks, only slightly, eyes closing gently as she listens. “I know I don’t deserve t-to ask that and it’s not… I wasn’t apart of your plan— “

“You’re drunk.” 

You’re plummeting into the void all over again, succumbing to a familiar, oddly comforting darkness. 

“H-Huh?” 

Ellie’s as firm as a tree, unmoving. Strong. Still. You’re transported back to your first conversation and how intimidated she made you feel. “You’re drunk… and I leave in the morning. I got the job.” 

Drowning. That’s what this feels like. Strangely proud. Oddly suffocating. You’re underwater, but refuse to resurface. “I-In the morning?” 

Her head jerks. “I, uh. I got rent covered. Sorry for the late notice.” She shoves her hands in her pocket. You shake your head, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “It’s okay.” You whisper. “Where’re you gonna go?” 

“My dad’s. He’s a few hours out. The truck comes tomorrow.” 

Your head bobs in acknowledgement, “H-How was the stats final?” She pauses; Her eyes sadden, tilting like an unwatered rose. “You’ll do fine.” She whispers. 

“Promise to take care of my daughter?” You blurt between sniffles, already moving down the hall, ignoring the loud shattering in your heart when you peep all her boxes in the now vacant room beside yours. 

Ellie mumbles your name but you’re sick of ugly crying in front of people. “Good luck with everything.” You mutter with hot feet.

And with the last click of your bedroom lock, you shut out the vine who entangled your heart for the last time. You give into the feelings of loss, the emotions that come with failure, and release them into your hands. 

What could’ve been, your brain hollers while your heart wails. What could’ve been if you weren’t you. 

You don’t remember waking up, but you’re in pain. Physically, mentally; You're hurting. The intensity of it somehow gets worse at the sound of Ellie dragging boxes out of her — the room. 

You just cry. There’s nothing to do but cry. Your phone has been ringing all morning, but you don’t have strength to reach for it. You relish in the deserving pain of your hangover. Tequila hasn’t done shit for you. 

Hours pass, and your home is silent. Ellie’s gone. Pickle’s gone. Amaya’s gone. Abby’s gone. Your mother’s gone. You take their departures as signs. It’s probably time for you to go, too. 

Your shower is incredibly long. You wash and wash and re-wash, wanting the feelings of cleanliness to cascade down your skin, but it never comes. You tearfully accept your lecherous nature and every vile entity attached to it. You’re a vessel for heartbreak and villainy. Forever your worst enemy. You look in the mirror for the first time in days. Just for a second. You can’t stand to see yourself for longer than that, your naked form a reminder of every violation you’ve had to endure since you were fifteen. 

Ellie isn't thinking twice about you, and yet, she terrorizes your mind, trying to convince yourself that your time together wasn’t all bad. You’ll never forget the color she brought to you. Her seed is forever planted and growing in your heart, her roots forcing their way into your system, intertwining with your rough, cracked bones, enclosing around your lungs with each breath. 

Too bad you impacted her in the worst way. You couldn’t even manage to give her a sober apology before she left. It’s hard to accept the fact that you’ll never see her again, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. 

Once again, you’re too late. 

The short lap around your living room crushes your spirit. Somehow, all of your memories are shrouded in emptiness. All the proof of Ellie’s residency is gone… Except the indent of her body on the couch. She always loved sleeping there.

One last heavy exhale. That’s all you can manage before you grab your coat and beanie and exit, locking the door behind you. You keep your head down on the way to the parking garage, hopping into the driver’s seat. The ride to the academic advisory office is silent and swift; It matches the finality of your meeting. 

Tears glaze your eyes when you ask your counselor, “What’s… What’s the first step of withdrawing? Like, from school.” 

-

-

-

CHRISTMAS EVE 

Your fork picks at the pasta noodles on your barely touched plate. The wine is delicious. 

“Honey, are you…” Your dad says softly before sighing, “How’s the meal?” You blink up at him, focusing on the crinkles in his eyes. He seems youthful somehow. Healing looks good on him. 

You gulp down more maroon, “… It’s great. Thank you.” You mutter. You’re not used to talking to him; You’re glad the feelings are mutual. He only nods, head downcast onto his plate. At least he’s eaten. 

He sets his fork down on his plate and wipes his mouth with a napkin, “I hope you like your gift.” He says before standing to place the dish in the sink.

A dark smile spreads behind your glass. 

“Never thought you’d buy me anything.” You snicker sarcastically. “Don’t start.” His voice slices through the kitchen. You hold back your flinch. You’re not ten anymore. 

You shrug, shoulders heavy, “Just saying.” A glass shatters in the sink, and he curses and storms off, the bedroom door nearly swinging off the hinges with a slam. Your smile grows at the booming echo. Like father, like daughter you suppose. 

-

-

-

DECEMBER TWENTY-SEVENTH 

“Are you ready, kiddo?” 

Ellie’s heart is pounding through her chest as she stares out the window. She can’t believe her father hasn’t commented on the bursting organ. “No.” She whispers, adjusting the camera strapped around her neck. She's fighting not to bite her nails; Her dad hates that. 

He chuckles softly, “Yes, you are.” 

No, she’s not. 

The photography studio is fucking huge and surrounded by tall windows that display suited individuals laughing, conversing, perfecting their lenses. She can see the bright specks of neon color on the white floors, white walls, white couches. It’s so much brighter than she ever imagined.

The colors are reminiscent of you. Vivid. Captivating. Beaming like your smile. There are flashes coming from all directions inside the studio and it’s making her shake in the passenger seat. A strong hand plants on her blazer, giving an encouraging squeeze. “Look at me.” 

Ellie’s head turns, eyes locking with her dad’s. 

“I love you. You got this.” He says with confidence. Ellie nods in agreement, but he doesn’t accept it. “Say it.” 

“I got this.” Not as confident. A lot quieter, but getting there. 

“Eh?” Her dad leans in closer, ear pointed at her. She giggles and repeats herself. A little louder. He decides that it’s good enough, pulling her close over the center console. Ellie inhales as deeply as she can, right in the crook of his neck. He plants one last kiss on her cheek before releasing her. She grabs her bag from the floor and pushes the door open, looking over her shoulder one last time. “I love you.” She whispers. He bops her nose with the most delicate grin. Pride is radiating off him, and it warms her from the cold outside. 

Ellie departs with one last wave, shutting the door and skipping onto the sidewalk, walking right up to the front door of the studio. A final peek at her dad; He sends her two thumbs up. She smiles. 

Breathe in, one… two… three… 

When the door pushes open, she's greeted with wide grins and warm hugs. It feels like home already.

Finally... Finally.

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[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 12: Catharsis

Summary:  You helped Astarion complete the Rite of Profane Ascension and become the Vampire Ascendant. You agreed to become his spawn soon after. Once the Netherbrain was defeated, Astarion claimed the Szarr Palace, renaming it the Crimson Palace, for himself and set about his plans of domination.

Word Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience}

"Then say it, Astarion,” she urges him. Her lower lip trembles. She unconsciously bites it to quell the movement. A single fang peeks out and glints in the sunlight, white as the purest snow. “Open the bond and say it.”

“I…I-” he trails off with a rasp and cracking voice. The words are lodged in his esophagus and anchored on the tip of his tongue. That presence in his mind tugs at his psyche, grappling for control. It speaks its ethereal omens. “ She will be your end. She spins her web of destruction even now. When she snares you, she will crush you in her grasp, and when you finally break, I will be there to claim you once again." He grimaces at the ill-portent and cedes, “Perhaps you are right. This is a conversation better had at home.”

She nods, crestfallen and stares at the lake with a longing look that he does not like to see upon her face. It’s the look of defeat. All hope is lost and withered away. She yearns for stillness and obscurity to quiet her mind. Yes, he knows the expression inlaid on her features well.

Is he putting her in further danger if he says it? Could the voice in his head be speaking truths?

He’s said it before. What stops him?

Is it a lie? He is no liar.

He said it before….

He said it…. 

Gods. It’s hard to think clearly with this tittering in his head, defiling his thoughts with its blighted ballad. The presence screams that she is a threat. She has cast some sort of spell on him. “A trick!” It chimes, “A clever, beautiful trick by a clever, beautiful sorceress. She means to unravel you! She means to break you apart, crumble you into pieces and dance on your ashes!”

She would not do such a thing. Would she? Could she? He has used his beauty to mislead many in the past centuries. Is it possible she is doing the same? She cannot scourge him physically, but mentally… well, that is a fate far worse than even death.

She would not trick him. She need not trick him. He already lov-

Hells below, he cannot even think it, let alone say it aloud.

He can force her. He can make her his with naught but a thought. She already belongs to him. He can pull her strings and make her dance, a puppet upon his world stage because he is the Vampire Ascendant, and he can take anything he pleases.

No. He grimaces at the sadistic notion and how good and powerful it makes him feel. His thoughts become contorted and serpentine too easily these days, a pit of snakes twisting themselves into tangled knots.

She wants something real. She deserves something real, but what in the Hells does real look like? Is it supposed to be like in the silly stories he’s read? Surely not. Those are just a conglomerate of lovely words, trussed into pretty lies that the eyes can view.

He hears them before he sees them. They stand idle in the shadows, trying to hide their heartbeats behind the thundering hoofs of the horses and the wind whipping through the trees. They do not smell like powdered iron-vine.

They are learning.

They should not know he is here, but he does not have time to ruminate on it. His heart detonates in his chest, leaping around like a frightened bird in a cage. The presence in his head serenades him, pulling at its chains, pleading to be unleashed. He needs to get her away from here, from them and himself, before he sinks.

“Run!” He commands.

She hesitates, her pouty lips set into a hard line while she scowls at him and protests his commands. She draws the Weave. It shimmers around her like a vapour in the air. She is beautiful.

She challenges him at every damn turn. He loves it. He loves her for it.

He loves her…

She will not leave of her own accord. Even if he begs, an army cannot make her leave his side, and he knows it. He knows what he must do, but he does not wish to do it. Taking her control from her, forcing her into servitude, the idea used to thrill him. When did that stop?

Yet, he will always do what he must, even if it pains him as he has always done.

He confiscates her control, “Run to the manor as fast as you can and stay there until I return. You will stop for no one and nothing.”

She’s going to berate him later for this, but at least she will be alive to admonish him.

She sprints, and he summons every werewolf, every bat, and every ghoul he can, “Follow her!” He sends several away as the hunters rush him. He parries and dodges, sinking his blades into ribs, necks, and chests. “Protect her at all costs. Signal me when she is out of the forest and return here.”

Gods, his head hurts as he’s torn, the rattling of chains in his head splitting his concentration, but he must make sure she makes it out before he can give in and be overtaken. What will he lose this time? Whenever he drowns, something is stolen from him - a memory becomes snapped and riven like looking into a broken mirror, another part of the real him lost.

Once he hears the baying signal, he lets go and allows himself to be consumed, and all is black, black, black.

Shadowheart tugs on your limbs and clothes, wrapping her arms around your waist and heaving with all her strength. Her voice resounds, but it sounds like a faint, distant whisper, like the sigh of a weary breeze over barren plains. You feel like you’re staring at yourself from a distance. Fatigued, faded and lusterless, you’re a relic of what was and what could have been, just another corpse littering the earth. The skyline is the indigo and blue hues of impending dawn, and the stars no longer stare down on this tragedy as they wink out like eyes shutting against an unexpected bright light. When the sun rises, you will float away and be forgotten in the sands of time.

You were so close. Gods, so fucking close. In the end, Astarion had been right. Love hailed itself a saviour and became your destroyer.

“The sun is rising,” Shadowheart pants, panicked as she tries to pry your fingers from their clutch on Astarion, but they might as well be fused to him. “We don’t have a second longer to lose.”

Each time you blink, a new memory appears and plays in your mind’s eye. Some good. Some bad. Some terrible. Is this what they mean when people say your life flashes before your eyes at death? The reliquary opens, and your hopes, dreams and broken pieces are laid before you to gaze upon.

“Astarion would not want this!” Shadowheart raves, agitation and dread, making her voice tremble. She shakes your shoulders and hauls on them. “He would not want you to die!”

I am already dead.

The first thin golden strings of the newborn sun weave their way through the trees, a grand lace of radiant light that falls upon your pearlescent, colourless skin. Shadowheart screams, her heartbeat pounds in your ears, her blood a tidal wave through her veins as she tries to cocoon you with her body and limbs so the light cannot consume you.

“I’ve got her, Shadowheart,” Astarion’s faint voice charges the air. “I’ve always got her.”

You barely catch it, another whispering flutter in the air, but his chest shudders underneath you, and you’re plunged into your body. Your eyes snap to his, which are open in a hairline split. Crismon barely peeks through behind thick lashes, but somehow, you know he’s looking straight at you.

You grab his hands, interlocking your fingers with his, “Astarion?”

He does not answer, but his fingers twitch, and his grip tightens, if only by a barely perceivable fragment.

Shadowheart clambers, her hands glowing the baby blue hue of her magic so brightly that she could rival the sun as she focuses every morsel of power she has left. She slams her splayed hands onto Astarion’s chest with a thump that makes him wheeze and cough, and he’s bathed in vivid blue.

“You’re not burning.” Shadowheart’s chest swells and recedes like waves over a storm-tossed ocean with exertion, “Is he?”

Astarion stills again, eyes closed. Yet, you do not burn as the rays of light prance over your skin. Your ears perk and quiver as they catch the faint, feeble beating in his chest.

You smile at Shadowheart and throw your arms around her, “His heart beats. He lives. Thank you, Shadowheart. Good Gods, thank you.”

You sit cross-legged on the bed beside Astarion and fixate on him. Shadowheart helped you get him home and into bed, but he’s still not stirred more than some muttering and twitching in his sleep in three days. You’ve not left his side to sleep or eat, and you’re getting hungry. Very hungry. Shadowheart refuses to leave despite your insistence that she is not safe with you. With each passing second, it gets harder and harder to ignore her presence. Astarion’s heartbeat is of no concern to you, but hers… good Gods. Hers sounds like a culinary delight being offered to a starving ogre. You forgot how hard it was to be around the living with their delicious-smelling blood and beating hearts, begging to be tasted.

I’m a monster.

Shadowheart knocks and lets herself into Astarion’s bedroom. She yawns and stretches. You can hear her bones cracking and grimacing at the sound assaulting your ears, “Still nothing?”

“No,” you mumble, clutching fistfuls of bedsheets to stop yourself from scratching your skin in front of her. “His heart sounds stronger and beats more rhythmically, but he hasn’t woken.”

Shadowheart nods toward him, “May I?”

She’s been continuing to heal him every day as much as she can until she needs to sleep and recuperate. You’re surprised she’s putting so much effort into helping him. You thought she hated him, but there is worry etched into the lines of her expression and sadness you did not think you would see, at least when it came to him. You push yourself against a wall, splaying your hands against the wood. You cannot let her get too close to you. You are dangerous. Being a vampire spawn has not been as easy as Astarion made it look. Although, it is substantially less difficult when you’re well-fed.

“Go ahead,” you nod at Shadowheart with a small smile, “but always be wary of me. I cannot be trusted.”

She scoffs, laying a hand on Astarion and reciting incantations in a repeating melody, “You lived with me for a year, and you only tried to kill me once. I trust you. You have better control than you believe, but I will be on guard.”

You wince at the memory. It had been only a few weeks into living with Gale and Shadowheart after they found you in the sewers, starving, writhing and feral with hunger. Astarion had made being a spawn look easy. He could be around blood and gore, and it barely seemed to affect him, but you learned quickly that it was not as simplistic as that.  Shadowheart and Gale could not understand why you would not leave your room or why you barricaded yourself in there with every spare piece of furniture you could. One night, you had ventured down, and Shadowheart had been cooking after having had quite enough of Gale’s dry and tasteless food. She nicked herself with a knife chopping vegetables. A small wound, but the blood in the air sent you into a feeding frenzy, blacking out everything but that delicious sanguine tang and you had lunged at her. Gale cast sleep on you before you could bite. Shadowheart laughed it off, but it was a wake-up call to you.

You are dangerous. You cannot be trusted, and you cannot trust yourself. Bloodlust overrides everything else far too easily.

Shadowheart’s magic washes over him again but with little noticeable effect, and she frowns at her palms as if somehow it’s her fault.

“He’s improving,” you assure her, disheartened by her sullen look. “Every time, he improves. His heart beats stronger.”

She clenches her fist with a nod and a grin, walking over to the chair at the other end of the room. She gives you once over and states, “You’re hungry.”

You swallow hard, crawl onto the bed and place your hand on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat in your palm, and it comforts you, “Yes. I’m very hungry,” you don’t bother trying to conceal it. “You should leave Shadowheart. I know you mean well, and I am grateful for all your help, but I am not Astarion. I do not have the control he does.”

“He keeps you well fed,” she points at Astarion. It’s not a question, and you cock your head at her, “You were skin and bones when you left, but you’re looking healthy again. You’re looking like yourself. I imagine you’ve not gotten much better at hunting, so he must do it for you.”

Your fingers curl into him, “He’s trying to teach me,” you laugh lowly for the first time in days. “He says I’m atrocious. I believe he called it an affront to the gods themselves,” you try to mimic his voice while rolling your eyes. “He takes me out every night, usually.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Shadowheart’s brows pinch. “You said you didn’t have time to explain it, but we have nothing but time while we wait on him. Gods. Is he always this lazy?”

She’s trying to cheer you up, and you giggle at her. You’ve missed her. Shadowheart was not overly pleased when you showed up as a spawn, but she accepted it when you told her it was what you wanted. Shadowheart has been the only one, other than Astarion, who you can be brutally honest with regarding your morbid urges.

“He always did enjoy his beauty sleep,” you shrug with a giggle, and she grins. “The Rite had more consequences than we assumed,” you sigh, “Not entirely surprising. As for what exactly, I cannot be sure yet, but I think it would be best if he tells you himself - if he wants to.”

“I understand. If he allows it, I will help any way I can,” she nods. She will not pry because she would want the same choice if it were her, and you would never give away her secrets, just as you refuse to give away his, “You need not be alone in this.”

Hells below. Shadowheart never fails you.

“I could hug you right now, Shadowheart.” You smile, fangs bared, because you do not need to hide from her, “But can we perhaps wait until I’ve eaten and you’re not looking so godsdamn delicious?”

“I’ll have you know that I am as delicious as you are pale. I will have to tell Astarion to get you out into the sun more often,” she giggles as you groan. You’ve had enough sun for a while after your last dalliance with it, “I will take the hug when you’re feeling less peckish. I like my blood in my veins.”

Peckish is an understatement. You could eat a bear, or two, or three, or perhaps an army of them right now. Those hunger cramps and spasms in your muscles are starting to make themselves known and hard to control. Your mouth is a salivating spring, and you have to swallow excessively lest you drool. If Astarion does not wake soon, you will have to push Shadowheart out with physical force if she does not heed your warnings.

“You really should think about going home, Shadowheart,” you urge with a plea that wobbles your intonation. Your hand hovers over bandaged wounds. The superficial ones healed long ago, but these. Gods. Any of these would have killed a mortal man instantly, and he has several, “Astarion just needs time to heal, I think.”

Shadowheart’s eyes flash with that pig-headed defiance you’ve come to know, and she sniffs, “I’m not leaving until he wakes,” she smirks as you grumble under your breath at her, “Is there anything you can tell me about what is going on with him?”

“I know this will be a challenge for you,” you smirk at her with a knowing glower, “But when he wakes, try not to make him angry. You two have always been like cats and dogs, but try not to push him too far. When he gets angry…. Well, let’s say he is not himself.”

“Don’t make him angry?” Shadowheart scoffs, crossing her arms and turning her nose up with a brashly twisted mouth, “Gods. That will be quite the task. He can be exceptionally insufferable.”

“I heard that.” Astarion grumbles, clicking his tongue while opening his eyes sluggishly, “I am a positively magnificent bastard, aren’t I?”

“Astarion!” You nosedive into him, wrapping your arms around him and basking in the warmth of his skin.

“Well, hello, little love,” he purrs comfortingly. His arm wraps around you and compresses you against his chest with his nose in your hair. He thrusts you back with one arm and scans you, “You are alright?”

“Me!?” You fight the overwhelming desire to shake him. He’s just woken up, and he’s asking about you? “You stupid, foolish idiot! When you are on your feet, you and I need to talk.”

He chuckles, running his fingers through your hair, “I expected as much.”

Shadowheart stands, “I hate to break this up, but may I?”

She gestures to Astarion, and you nod, pulling out of Astarion’s grip with a reluctance that makes your skin crawl. Astarion arches a brow at your retreat. Shadowheart’s magic infuses his skin, healing him slightly further, and he looks at her confused.

“Thank you for taking care of her, Astarion,” Shadowheart emphasizes with a genuine smile. “She’s looking well. I owe you gratitude for that. She would not tell me what’s happened to you, but I would like to help if I can - if you will accept it. I don’t need your answer now, but think about it.”

“Uh,” Astarion is taken aback by Shadowheart’s authentic appreciation, but he recovers his detached mask quickly. “You’re welcome,” he says cooly, “I will think on your request. Please tell me this does not make us,” he cringes, “friends.”

Shadowheart scoffs, “Gods, no!”

“Good,” Astarion giggles. “I do positively enjoy our squabbling, after all.”

Astarion’s eyes swing to you, pressed against the wall as if you’re trying to melt into it. Your jaw is clenched hard, teeth rasping. Try as you might, you cannot hide the discomfort you’re feeling, and you look away from him, uncomfortable under his penetrating gaze. He will recognize bloodlust.

Astarion pushes himself upright, “How long have I been out? Please tell me she’s at least tried to eat.”

Shadowheart answers before you do, “Three days and no. She has not left your side,” she points at you with a scowl, “Despite my insistence that she do so. You know how stubborn she can be.”

“Hells below.” Astarion is out of bed before you or Shadowheart can comprehend what’s happened, and he pulls you close to him with a tight grip on your waist, “I thank you for your assistance, Shadowheart, truly, but you should leave. It’s not safe for you to be around her. I will think about your offer and walk you out.”

Shadowheart puts her hand up with a shake of her head, “That is unnecessary. I can show myself out. Take care of her, Astarion. Do not make me regret saving your hide.”

Astarion chuckles, “I can only promise I will take care of her. You have my word."

Shadowheart smiles at you, “I will be expecting that hug once you’re feeling better.”

The shattered glass crunches under your feet as you walk through the shambles of what remains of the mirrors, vases and paintings you ravaged. Little pieces of mirror reflect the candlelight, spraying it in a flickering array across the walls and ceiling like a conglomerate of stars. Your fingers tremble over the curtains, but the anguish is fresh in your mind, and you can’t get yourself to open them. It feels grave to be away from Astarion, even though he’s upstairs, and you keep your hearing trained on his heartbeat, afraid that if you don’t, it might arrest.

With a sigh, you bend down and start to collect the broken fragments of the mirror that spurns your existence and remains empty despite your fingers gripping the surface. You breathe on the glassy surface. You know nothing will happen, but for a reason unknown to you, the refusal to acknowledge you sways you in a sudden grip on anger. You squeeze it, and the sharp edges slice into your fingers. Blood wells up, gliding and smearing on the surface, and you grin as if you’ve forced the damn thing to accept you are real.

“Decided to do a little redecorating, I see,” Astarion chuckles, arching a brow at the mess.

You whirl, compressing the pieces of mirror in your hand so hard they start to buckle and splinter further. You want to berate him for sending you away, screaming at him for compelling you and scolding him for dying and almost leaving you alone for eternity, but once your eyes meet his, the anger is washed away by relief. He’s alive, and for now, that’s all that matters.

I have an eternity to chastise him for being an idiot.

“Sorry.” It’s the best you can do.

Astarion walks toward you, and even though the floor is littered with rubble, his footsteps still make no sound. His fingers slip down your arm to the hand that’s clutching those broken pieces, blood still rolling down the surface.

“It’s okay, little love.” He coos, taking the fragments from you and letting them fall back to the floor. He kisses your blood-smeared fingers, “It was all horrific. Wasn’t it? We can redecorate.”

We?

Gods. He talks as if nothing has happened, and it vexes you, but you slip your arms around him, push your ear to his chest, and enjoy that steady and strong beat almost stolen from you.

Astarion kisses your temple, then forehead and then tilts your head up and moulds his lips to yours in a lingering kiss before pulling back and scowling at you. His voice is coarse and booming, “What you did in the forest was bloody stupid! What in the Hells were you thinking? You would have burned to death had Shadowheart’s damn wailing not roused me.”

“You don’t get to lecture me on stupidity.” You push him away and meet his ire with your own. “You should not have sent me away! I could have helped.”

“It’s not your problem,” he shakes his head.

“Oh, Gods,” you scoff at him, fingers curling into fists at your side, “Not this bullshit again! Your problems are my problems. When will you learn that?”

“No.” He hisses, “I failed you once, and the Gur nearly killed you. I will not fail you again.”

“You imbecile!” You scream, starting to weep, and you put your hand on a wall to keep yourself steady as the leaden weight of everything that’s happened descends, “You died! You were dead! You… you almost left me here all alone.”

The blaze of anger in his eyes winks out, sterilized by grief. Astarion’s brows rise, and the corners of his mouth turn down, “Oh, love, no.”

Astarion’s arms fold around you as your knees give out, and he braces you against him with a hand at the back of your head. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles with his lips against your forehead.

You almost want to push him away, to give yourself some distance, because you are falling too hard, too fast, but he guides your head up, and warm ruby eyes unite with yours. The connection with him croons the invitation to open, and you don’t hesitate to answer. Everything floods in a downpour. All your nerves, synapses, and neurons buzz with the efflux of information. You squeeze your eyes shut as your body attempts to orient itself. You inhale several shaky breaths as his heart beats inside your chest. It’s uncomfortable, but Hells, you will gladly take that pain.

The flood eases and becomes pleasant, languid streams that cross softly, slowly, and you are one. You are whole. You are complete.

Before you can open your eyes again, you feel Astarion’s lips ghost over yours, and you part them for him in a gasp as you feel his desire ignite. A raw, almost feral passion, unbridled and uninhibited. It’s so potent it’s intoxicating, and your yearning bursts and throbs between your thighs. Astarion kisses you with ferocity, and his tongue darts into your mouth. His taste is rich, deep and dark, and you moan as you drink him in. His fingers slip into your hair at the back of your neck, holding you firmly while he pushes your back against the wall. He grinds his hips into you with a resonating growl as he pins you.

Good Gods. With the connection to him open, you feel everything. His pleasure. Your pleasure. All brimming and teeming as one ocean of bliss you’re going to drown in. Without his smooth skin against yours, you feel painfully bare, and you rip open his shirt, flinging buttons askew. Astarion slips your dress from your shoulders with a smug smirk and lustfully hooded eyes, and it pools at your feet as Astarion lets his shirt fall.

Pushing yourself against him, you sigh with a pining whimper. He feels pure and warm as sunshine, and he is the light that parts the gloom of sorrow that has clutched your heart for the past few days.

Astarion parts your folds, spreading them and stroking the slickness. He is not slow this time. He is not teasing. He is feverish in his need for you. The pads of his fingers find your aching center, swollen with want, and quickly settle into a rhythm that makes your body twitch and spasm with white-hot pleasure, making you arch off the wall. You moan loud and animalistic, whimpering his name like a verse that’s stuck in your head, and his throat steals your moans with his lips on yours as if he can taste the euphoria in your cries.

Tension coils in your belly, and Astarion moans deep and velvety smooth as you crest and dissolve for him. He doesn’t waste a moment. You can feel his urgency from the connection, and it makes you just as rabid. You need to feel him stretching you, massaging your walls, making you his.

With a quick snap of his wrist, his trousers are below his hips. His cock is hard and yearning, twitching in the candlelight. Astarion grips your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist, and he buries himself into you with one quick thrust.

The pleasure is so intense, either his or yours or maybe it’s both combined, you do not know, but you clench around him so hard he hisses when he inhales and groans, bracing himself with his forearm on the wall as if he might fall over.

“F-fuck,” he pants. He pulls out slowly and slams back into you with a snap of his hips. “Tell me you love me,” he commands with another pump, plunging himself deeper.

Your ears barely perceive the words he’s saying while you sink into your mind-numbing ecstasy, but you know what he wants intuitively, “I love you,” you whimper, lacing your fingers into his soft curls.

Astarion’s pace increases, uncontrolled and more frantic, as he rears his hips back and drives into you. He pushes himself as close as he can possibly get while he pumps his into you.

“Again,” he instructs huskily as he finds a pace that snares all your senses. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” you breathe, panting, bucking your hips to push against his thrusts, rolling them in the way you know drives him crazy. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” you repeat a whispering hymn.

Every nerve quivers in bliss, and your eyes roll back. You clench, gripping his cock tighter and tighter with every thrust.

“Come,” he growls the command darkly.

Your lips crash into his as you comply, your body submitting to his influence. It feels like a dream to obey, and you crash into your orgasm like a wave crashing upon a rocky shore. You cry out, fingers raking his skin, thighs squeezing him as you’re cast upon that shore time and time again.

“Good girl,” he purrs. His hips stutter as the tremors massage his girth. “Again,” he barks with a groan, his breath hitching as he plunges into you erratic and needy.

Every pump of his hips is an ode to possession. Every twitch of his cock is a chorus of control. Every time he drives you to your peak is a sonnet to claim.

He owns you. You belong to him. You are his.

Yes, take me and make me yours.

You don’t know if they are your thoughts or his, but you hear his answer in your mind as it drifts on the slipstream of your bond.

“I will.”

Good Gods. Astarion means to make you shatter around him over and over until your body cannot possibly splinter any further. He means to take, take and take until you have nothing left to give, and even then, he means to take more.

And he does.

The smell of Honeysuckle, Vanilla and brandy is heavy and prevalent, arousing you gently back to your senses. Your eyes remain closed with lingering fatigue. The muscles in your body ache with an obnoxiously constant pang, and you groan and grumble under your breath at the sensation. There’s a serene tranquillity rife that you cannot quite explain, like a peaceful and undisturbed pond. You’re warm as if swaddled in a blanket made of sunlight.

Sunlight. Sun…

No. You should not be in the sun!

Your eyes snap open, and you flounder, graceless and clumsy. Steam rises all around you, and water swooshes and splashes over the sides of a ceramic-tiled tub, splashing against the floor.

“Easy, love,” Astarion chuckles, pulling you against his chest to stop your inelegant lumbering. “You’re alright.”

Your head quirks up, and your eyes meet his gaze. Candlelight treads and sways in the sanguine sea, and kindness coruscates, making them radiate softly.

You blink, and your hand slices through the water, “What in the Hells?”

“A bath,” he grins handsomely, sweeping wet strands of hair from your cheek and behind your ear tenderly. His fingers trace your jaw, “Apologies. I may have gotten a little… carried away.”

Carried away is one word for it, I suppose.

“Oh,” he giggles, beautiful and lighthearted, as careless as a child at play. It makes you smile. You came so close to never hearing that sound again. “And what’s the other word for it?”

Shit. He’s still in my head.

“Yes,” he kisses your temple, hugging you tighter. His fingers skim across your skin comfortingly, “I am still in your head as you are in mine.”

“You put me in a bath?” You arch your brow at him.

“It was necessary,” he smirks arrogantly. “I made quite a mess of you.”

Astarion reaches down, his fingers parting your folds, and you jump, confused at what exactly his goal is. “Relax,” he purrs. “This is not about sex.” His fingers rub over you gently, washing you and easing that soreness his enthusiasm caused. His feelings of affection and genuine, thoughtful compassion roll through the connection. “Unless you wish to go for round four? Or was it five? Or six? I could be persuaded.”

You groan and slump down further into the bath. Despite your exhaustion, your body responds to his touch as it always does, fire igniting within your stomach and desire making your skin prickle.

“Good Gods, Astarion,” you mumble with a sigh. “No more.”

“I thought not.” Astarion lathers his hands with soap and starts washing your arms, chest and back. He massages your stiff muscles with perfect pressure.

Should I be angry with him? 

“Oh, don’t be sour,” he tsks, clicking his tongue and nuzzling your cheek. “You enjoyed yourself. I felt it. I felt it every godsdamn time. I almost couldn’t contain myself. You’re lucky I have such excellent control. That would undo a lesser man immediately.”

“You are full of yourself, aren’t you?” You laugh. Astarion’s cheerful mood is infectious, and you can’t help but feel a little bubbly with happiness yourself.

He shrugs, “Can you truly blame me? I am rather impressive.”

“I think it’s me that’s impressive,” you smirk with a wolfish grin, “If the exultant Vampire Ascendant could barely contain himself.”

“Sassy girl,” he tuts with a chuckle. “You are inconceivably enchanting. Even with an eternity, I could never get enough of all this.” He gestures over your body with seductive eyes but becomes more serious, “And whatever this is, between us, I could never tire of it, my love.”

My love… 

The words descend in your mind, slow and tortuous like a feather falling from a great height. He does not love you. He said as much himself, and his silence and reluctance when you pressed him only cemented that. Yet, his actions speak different words, and his thoughts and feelings that you can feel utter different syllables. You don’t know which language to believe.

“I do,” his answer floats in your head, not out of his mouth.

You push away from him, whirling around in the enormous tub, splashing additional water over the edges. You need to see him, be able to watch and look in his eyes. His brows furrow in confusion, and he looks at the swaying water, “At least, I think I do.”

“What happened downstairs was not love. You want to possess me, control me and claim me. You want me to belong to you. I felt it,” you frown. It’s all so godsdamned confusing. “You craved ownership, not a partner. Is that love to you?”

Astarion’s eyes widen, and his hand reaches for you, but you bat it away, and he stops his advance. You need distance if you have any hope of keeping your wits about you.

“You want to be taken and claimed. You want to be mine,” he snarls, but there’s a sorrow weaved in between that choler. “I felt it. I heard it. I do not understand why you deny yourself these truths. Why do you continue to fight me?”

He’s clever, always able to take your questions, skirt them artfully and turn them around on you, but you know his tricks. He’s partly correct. You do want to be his, to belong, but you do not want to be owned and controlled.

“You didn’t answer the question, Astarion.” You retort bluntly, narrowing your eyes at him.

You have to tread carefully over these hot coals. If you challenge him too much, you’re likely to be reacquainted with his anger made flesh.

Astarion takes a deep breath, calming himself and smoothing his severe expression, “I already admitted I got carried away and caught up in the intensity of the moment. Sometimes, my thoughts become twisted. What more do you want me to say?”

You can accept that sometimes his thoughts are out of his control. You’ve heard the chittering yourself, and it’s like a flesh-eating infection that grazes upon contemplations. If you want him to continue being open, you must be able to withstand his darkness.

You can and you will because you must.

Always the lovesick hero.

“You know what I want you to say,” you whisper with a tear glistening in the corner of your eye. You know he won’t say it. You can feel his aversion as if it were your own.

“I can’t,” Astarion says flatly. He does not offer a reason. His fingers comb through his hair, and he shudders as if ice was suddenly thrust upon his warm skin. “You want something real? I’m not entirely sure what real looks like, but I will try. For you, I will try. But I cannot say what you’re asking right now.”

“Then I think this conversation is over,” you growl bitterly while climbing out of the bath.

Water drips down your body as you wrap yourself in one of the plush towels. You can feel his pain through the bond, and it’s tearing you apart on the inside, but you cannot fathom being his pet. You are not an object to be owned and flaunted, and no matter how badly you want him, you cannot allow him to treat you as such.

He does not speak as you walk away, your feet leaving wet marks across the floor. You don’t turn when you speak. You cannot see the sorrow reflected in his eyes, “And Astarion, if you ever compel me like that again, I will walk out and never return.”

His answer is calculated and numb, “I will do what is necessary to protect you.”

“Then you better be ready to lose me,” you snarl. “I am not an object you can wield when it suits your needs and put away when you’ve finished with me.”

“So be it,” he concludes quickly.

This time, you close the door in your head, although you’re reluctant to do so as you tread the hall back to your room. You are hollow once again, but you fill the void with hatred. You will find out how the Gur knew of your whereabouts and descend on the wings of death.

You know exactly where to start.

Elowyn.

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As always, I hope you enjoy this, darlings!

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

I felt terrible for the cliffhanger, so I spent much of my free time writing this week so I could keep mostly on schedule :)

#astarion fanfic #ascended astarion #bg3 #astarion x you #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion smut

[krynutsreal]

my hand slipped a bit

no freaking way.... ishimondo sky au real....

ummm this took an embarrassingly long amount of time (79 hours altogether </3) so u will. look at them!!!!! If u don't know what sky au is or want 2 learn more about these sillies then I will be rambling about them rn (with extra doodles) !! lucky you :]

Kry, what is sky au ??

To put it simply, it's a (mostly) ishimondo centric au where Mondo guards over the sun, while Taka guards over the moon. Together they keep Earth in balance. Other planets (excluding Earth for now) are guarded by a being similar to Mondo and taka (aka the hopes peak students are now guardians too). They all each have their own ways of making sure that their planet/moon/etc are rotating correctly and orbiting around the sun n such !! (It's a work in progress so pls bear with me </3)

The Earth, in this case is not guarded by anyone in particular. Which gives the beings an opportunity to basically go down there and explore or just go through shenanigans pretty much. So long as they don't burn the whole planet down and are able to blend in with humans down there they're able to do whatever they please 👍

now to get some sorta like. random facts about Mondo n taka (plus the piece itself) out of the way cause !!!! the post is about them SO

Mondo: Sun guardian ☀️

Does not have a specific routine when doing his job. Usually goes with his gut feeling and continues on from there.

With that in mind, he tends to travel to earth very often to mess around n' have fun. He doesn't doesn't go out of his way to cause destruction (at least not on purpose)

But, he is more feared than liked by most of the mortals there. That does not stop him from roaming around the Earth though!

His halo can emit the brightest light that could honestly blind a regular human, but for the space beings it does not have much of an effect on em.

MF TOOK THE LONGEST TIME (42 hrs) !!! BC OF HIS HAIR. and the halo. shakes him crumples him up

Kiyotaka: Moon guardian 🌙

Unlike Mondo, Taka actually does have a routine that he carefully and thoughtfully planned out to make sure that everything goes smoothly with things regarding the moon (phases, rotations, yk)

Only goes down to Earth for educational purposes, he wants to learn more about how the moon directly affects the Earth (as well as other things about mortals and nature in general)

Does come off as intimidating to mortals, but it is mostly unintentional and therefore he doesn't hang around them much.

Is able to make little star projections with his hands and uses this to make his plans/write down stuff (good example is making that flower projection in [this] comic.)

he was the one I drew first !!! [37 hrs] (hence why he took less time then mondo) I lov his cape. umm also crumples him up

AND THATS ALL I HAVE FOR NOW. IF UR READING THIS THEN THANK U FOR UMM READING THE RAMBLES. I GIFT U THESE.

BYEEE!!!!!! collapses onto the floor .

#danganronpa #mondo owada #kiyotaka ishimaru #ishimondo #kry k(art) #sky au #i genuinely.cant believe i spent that long on them #to be fair it wasnt 79 hours straight it was more of me working on it during free time (and procrastinating on it) #originally they were gonna be together in 1 piece. but ibis kept crashign so i had to split them in half #UMMM IDK. im glad i finally posted this #so glad i dont hate this piece. the hyper fixation is real. love wins etc etc #ok bye stay cringe and free #EDIT I FORGOT TO ADD THE LINK SORR

[iheartred]

the blackphone x reader

m.list

how I think having class with them would be like

cw : fluff/crack / reader has no gender

a/n : I'm sorry in advance because this'll be rushed from how exhausted I am dhwjdbd anyways hope yall enjoy 🙏

Finney Blake :

I feel liked he's zone out in class a lot, he wouldn't mean to he just does

Teacher : so then when

Finney (daydreaming) : ☆☆

You : Finney?? Did you die or somethin-

Finney : huh???

And he looks at you weird for a minute and tells you to pay attention as if he wasn't just looking off into space

he will draw on his notes when he's done with his work, like by the end off class there's atleast 50 different stars drawn on his test

(he gets scolded for it)

I also feel like he'd accidently turn on his little flashlight on his rocket Keychain, then the teacher would confiscate it and he'd have to tell you,Robin, and Gwen to wait for him outside the office

Robin Arellano :

He would also zone out a lot, or he'd focus on one part of the classroom and just put all his attention into it

So if the thing he's focusing on moves or gets disturbed by the wind from outside he'll flinch

You : You good Robin??

Robin : huh

You : you just flinched??

Robin : oh my bad

And then he'd just go back to focusing on it

But other than that I feel like he'd really try hard to pay attention, asking questions even if they are a little embarrassing the teachers are very appreciative that he's asking questions and being involved

I feel like he'd also play tic tac toe with you but on YOUR notebook

Robin : wanna play tic-tac-toe?

You : sure

Robin : okay

Then proceeds to discard the perfectly good piece of paper he has on his desk and writes in your notebook. With a pen.

Bruce Yamada :

Hes the one guy the teacher yells at to stop throwing his trash across the room into the trash can

Like he'd make it into it but the teacher would be like "absolutely not" and scold everyone in the class about how they should not being throwing or littering on school grounds

Everyone just glares at Bruce for the rest of the lecture

I feel like he fidgets a lot and ends up shaking the table while you're righting

You : I

Bruce : hm?

You : you just pushed the table

Bruce : I did ?

He says as his leg is literally under your desk pushing your legs out of the way

You punch him in the shoulder after class

Hes really smart and passes all his classes so he tends to goof off when he's done with his work

Meaning that he will talk your ear off(quietly of course)

Bruce : I got a new scare while practicing this morning, OH and oh my God my sister ending up spilling her paint water in my jersey which turned it blue and purple when my parents washed it, ooh also did I ever tell you about that one game I had?? This guys throw was so-

Then he'd go on and on, not like you'll say anything because it's literally so sweet to hear him talking about whatever he lov-

You : please I'm trying to work

Bruce : oh right my bad

(sike mwahah)

Vance hopper :

An absolute menace

Probably won't even show up to class

if he did the teacher would make him sit in the front, he would've sat there anyways because his eye sight is sh-t

Plus his bangs it makes things so much more worse

Vance : hey

You : yea?

Vance : what was the last question??

The board is literally right infront of his face as he says this

Hes definitely the type of guy to just throw his paper in his bag

You can see he has a folder because it's bright red but he decides to stuff it in there with a million other pieces of crumpled assignments under two notebooks

he'd also be the guy to aggressively tap on his tesk with his pencil and whenever someone tells him to stop he threatens to punch them square in the face

Now if someone reversed it on him to give him a taste of his own medicine pray for them because they will absolutely not being seeing tomorrow

Billy Showalter :

Hes very quiet in class and his teachers adore him, I also feel like everyone low-key loves him

Hes so nice that you can't even insult him for being a nerd

Someone : Hey Billy!

Billy : hm? You need something?

Someone : Yea!

Billy : oh maybe I could help you with that

Then they'd chicken out and end up asking for a pencil

Hed be so confused when they walked away sulking

He asks questions about upcoming tests, assignments, and other homework

I also feel like he'd stay quiet if there was homework the other night the teacher forgot to grade

Everyone would be shocked everytime because he's such a straight A student so he knew there was homework

But that meant he also had the power to absolutely ruin everyone's day so no one messed with him

other than that I feel like he'd also tell you to be quiet while I'm class, even if you're done with all your work

You : hey bil-

Billy : shh

You : hu-

Billy : shhh

You :

Billy : shhhh

You : I didn't even say anything that time ???

☆ ☆ ☆

#The blackphone #finney x reader #robin arellano x reader #Bruce yamada x reader #vance hopper x reader #Billy Showalter x reader

[vimara00]

Jealous Dabi! X F! Reader

Hi everyone, it's Vi!✨ I decided to write something about jealous Dabi. Hope you enjoy! ❤️

Pd: Sorry I haven't been posting but I was on vacation and didn't have good connection hahaha

(Again, sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language 🙏🏻)

All characters reservations to Horikoshi

Warnings: suggestive maybe? but not really smut

• Well, let's imagine you are Hawks' quirkless secretary and certain day he asked you to attend to a LOV meeting with him in order to record what they'll say

• Everything was going smooth till a very tall guy with pursing blue eyes sat next to you and asked "what is a woman like you doing in a place like this?" You tried to not be affected by this intense staring and said "I'm here with Hawks since I'm his secretary I need to involve myself for the cause too" Apparently that piece of information caught his attention and gave you an curious look but before letting him speak again you continued saying "Anyways, what do you mean a woman like me?" And he smirked while saying" I meant a delicate and beautiful lady like you being in a shitty hole like this" You were blushing like a tomato and Touya thought it was really cute

• Since that day, Dabi tried to be as near to you as possible every time you were on reunions together. Also, he would text you and appear out of the blue at the end of you shift just to spend time with you even if it meant getting caught by the heroes. At first, Touya thought he could manipulated you to gain information but after a while, he realised you weren't aware of your surroundings and he started to feel the need to protected you from this society. Something in Hawks didn't sit well with Dabi's interested in you but he choose to ignore it and take advantage of it.

• Some time before the heroes attack to the LOV's base, Dabi was waiting for you to get out of work hiding at an alley. It been fifteen minutes and there was no sight of you but before he started to torture some sidekicks about your wereouts, you and Hawks appeared from the sky to land safely at the entrance of the agency. The hero had you prestressed against his chest with his arms around your waist and your hands grabbing his t shirt. This act itself made Dabi's blood boild and without realising, fire started to came out of his arm. How dare that pathetic asshole put his hands on his girl. Yeah, you two didn't have a title yet but that didn't mean he could be touching you like that. He thought everybody knew you were off limits but apparently, he needed to make thing more clear for those stupid heroes that wanted to take you away from him. Oh and he was gonna make Hawks pay but he needed to control himself before he did something infront of you that'll make you scared.

• That night Hawks offered to take you to your house when Dabi appeared next to you wrapping his arm around your waist and giving it a squeeze while pulling you closer "She doesn't need a ride. I'll take her home. We have a long night, don't we love?" He looked at you with range and lust on his eyes while grabbing your chin with his index finger. You weren't sure what he exactly meant by that cause' you both only had shared kisses now and then but never got to something more sexual. However, his words and the way he was staring at you said otherwise.

• "We are going now, doll" They started to walk but Dabi turned around a little to looked at Hawks dead on the eye as if challenging him. Touya knew the hero felt something towards his girl so he wanted to make very clear for him that she was his and his only and that he won't let him get away with those actions.

• Once at your apartment, you were slammed against the door as Touya force you to look at him by grabbing your jaw "I think I haven't been cleared enough with you so let me get this straight" He got near your mouth while looking lustfully at you and said "There is a big difference between that stupid hero and me. He would definitely sacrifice you for the world's benefit while I would burn the whole world just for you (hear this on tik tok and it fits him hahaha well)" He then traced your lips with his thumb as he said "You are mine. You belong to me since the fist day I lay eyes on you and I won't let some idiot believe he can take whats mine. Am I clear?" You simply nodded as he attacked your lips while wrapping his hand around your neck. Once he broke the kiss, his hand remained on your neck and he added a bit of pressure on it demanding for you to say you were his. Then he applied open mouth kisses on your neck while leaving marks on your sweet skin so Hawks and other assholes would see you belong to him. That was just the start of a very long night and let's just say you couldn't go to work the next day.

#mha #bnha #mha scenarios #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x you #yandere dabi #touya todoroki #touya x y/n #touya x reader #dabi smut #mha smut #mha fluff #mha spoilers #yandere todoroki #yandere touya #dabi reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x y/n #bkdk #bnha shoto #bnha fluff #mha deku #league of villains #dabi headcanons #jealousdabi #dabi my hero academia #katsuki bakugo x reader #shoto x reader

[herofics]

Heyy! I loveee ur LOV x reader comfort! So I was wondering if u could do fem! Teen! Reader that has parent issues (like both mommy and daddy issues) and sees Dabi as a father figure! Tyy

A/N: Thank youuu! I feel like considering Dabi's age, he's more of a older brother figure, plus his attitude towards his own father adds to his whole hatred towards the subject. Kinda rambly and probably kinda off topic

•As we’re all well aware, Dabi hates his father and he honestly also hates the idea of being a father

•He doesn’t hate kids, he just doesn’t want any of his own

•Granted, he’s also the type of person who would steal lollipops from children for fun, but oh well

•So you got sort of taken in by the League, after you got kicked out by your parents, for the nth time

•You gravitated to Dabi, not in a romantic way, but you just found him to be familiar in some weird way

•Probably in a very unhealthy way but still

•Unfortunately, people often seek out what they’re used to, even if it’s not good for them

•In time Dabi grows protective of the younger folks in the League, like you and Toga

•He doesn’t really consider you as younger siblings to him, since he considers siblings to be very different from what you and Toga are to him

•He actually quite likes you, and unlike his actual siblings, he doesn’t resent you

•Anyway, it’s not like Dabi’s there to listen to all your woes and problems, but he’s there when it matters, like those life or death situations you both tend to get into

•Like when you get into trouble and he’s there to burn the people who are after you

•He’s more worried about your physical wellbeing, because he doesn’t really have the tools to help with your mental wellbeing

•Like sure you can talk to him, but prepare to get very straight answers with no sugarcoating whatsoever

•When you told Dabi you seem him as a father figure, his reaction was pretty much like “Well you’re an idiot”

•He doesn’t want you to think of him like that, because his image of a father is an abusive, piece of shit, violent man, who never once put him first

•To be fair, he considers himself to be almost all of those things, and he usually wouldn’t care how other people perceive him, but it does kinda sting to have you say that, very momentarily but still

•He’s still very much a bully, but in a more playful way with you, and you shouldn’t take anything mean he says seriously

•If you really beg him, like until he’s so annoyed he’s on the verge threatening your life, he might even give in and braid your hair

•It’s either that or threatening you to leave him alone, but let’s hope for a positive outcome

•Dabi isn’t exactly the sweet and caring big brother type, he’s more of an “I’d kill someone for you, but I can’t stand to be in the same room with you for more than 5 minutes” type 

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi #bnha dabi #mha dabi #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #bnha fluff #mha fluff #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

[rebelwrites]

How about one where you are Jaxs twins sister (younger) and you are plus sized due to meds you are taking. So you love his new girl who is plus sized and you get arrested after beating a bitch who made comments while you two were doing girls day at the mall.

What Am I Going To Do With You?

Jax Teller x Sister Reader

Summary: Jax bails you out after you beat the living shit out of three girls.

Jax Teller Masterlist

“Wanna say that again you piece of shit?” You growled, balling your fists by your side.

Anger soared through every vein in your body, it was one thing people taking the piss out of you due to your size, you had thick skin and was happy with how you looked. There wasn’t much you could do about it anyway, no matter how hard you tried when you first started gaining weight from the medication you were put on. You had tried every crash diet out there which never worked so you gave up obs swing over your weight. You started to eat the right things, working on building your strength and starting to love your body.

But what riled you up was these fuckers taking the puss out of Jax’s girlfriend due to her size. You know how self conscious the poor girl was, you had been her’s and Jax’s shoulder to cry on when things were bad. Not that you’d ever tell anyone that you had Jax crying on your shoulder. That was the shit you would take to the grave.

“Fat bitches.”

“Maybe try eating a salad.”

The girls started laughing in your face, but one of them made the fatal mistake of trying to square up to you.

Well that was like waving a red flag to a bull, without a second though you threw the first punch, clocking the girl square in the jaw causing her to stumble backwards.

“You fucking bitch.” She screamed, clutching her jaw.

An evil smirk crossed your face as you saw the blood tainting her skin from your rings.

“Y/N, leave it.” Nancy whimpered. “It’s not worth it.”

“Nance, don’t worry I’ve got this,” you winked “what I need you to do is get outta her and call Jax.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m gonna need him to bail me out of Charming’s finest holding cell.” You laughed rolling the sleeves of your hoodie up.

Bad day to wear white you thought to yourself as the girls that had been insulting you both tried jumping you.

Punches were thrown by you but the girls tried to fight dirty, this wasn’t a fight, in fact you didn’t know if they even knew how to punch. But unfortunately for them they had no idea that you grew up brawling with your brother, giving each other black eyes and bust lips numerous times over the years.

“What am I gonna do with you?” Jax’s playful tone echoed through the cells, making you look up from your bust knuckles.

“Hopefully bail me out, fuckface.” You smirked, resting your head on your fist, looking up at him through your lashes.

“I will but I want to know what happened.” He hummed, leaning against the metal bars. “I thought we made a promise you would stop landing yourself in here for fighting.”

“I know buuuuut,” you said, pushing yourself to your feet. “When these fucking bitches started taking the piss out of me and Nance because of our size, well you see I just saw red, you know I have a thick skin and the comments slide off me like water on a ducks back but I could see how upset Nance was getting so you know I battered the fuckers.” You had a proud smile on your face as you explained what happened.

The corners of Jax’s lips started to turn into a proud smirk before he nodded to Unser to unlock the metal door.

“I hope they came off worse than you did.” Jax chuckled, flicking his gaze from your knuckles to the scratches on your face.

“Oh a hell of a lot worse, they fought like a girl.” You laughed, as you strode out of the cell. “I definitely broke a couple of noses.”

“Well, I definitely think you deserve dinner on me.” He grinned, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I knew brawling as kids would eventually pay off.”

@chibsytelford @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @pascal-reyes @fourthwallhateclub @withmyteeth @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @princess76179 @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @princess76179 @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @lmao-liz @babypink224221 @daddysgirl2857 @bravo-four-seal-team @garbingeee @pedrohoe04 @littlekittymeow @nichia88-blog @zozebo @cherieann-2001

#jax teller #jax teller x reader #Jax teller x sister reader #jax teller x plus size reader #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #jax teller imagine #sons of anarchy imagine

[magicianenthusiast]

random lov headcanons

tomura was (and is) the biggest bug kid. he loves them. after he came to afo he was wary of dogs bc of mon and wasn’t allowed any other pets/friends anyway, so he got fond of the spiders and creepy crawlies he found around the bar. he also likes them because theyre also misunderstood and disliked for no reason.

after he gets out of prison he gets a pet tarantula. shuuichi puts up with her bc he’s a good boyfriend and eventually grows fond. dabi and kurogiri are entirely indifferent but the rest of the league refuse to touch/go near her

when compress and kurogiri started to flirt tomura was extremely protective and suspicious of compress. he enlisted the rest of the league (this was post kamino but pre-kurogiri’s arrest) to secretly investigate compress for anything sketchy. unfortunately none of them including tomura really knew what constituted sketchiness amongst a group of supervillains so after a while they gave up. tomura kept a close eye on compress for a long time tho.

dabi has his real name tattooed onto his inner lip along with his date of birth. he got it done when he was 19 just in case he died on the street before he could reveal anything, in the hopes that maybe an autopsy would be conducted.

all the league donate blood to himiko on the regular, so long as she uses clean needles

himiko usually has a supply of league blood on her, and even if not she usually still has some in her system, and she transforms into them whenever she feels unsafe.

after they get out of prison tomura is finally free to express himself with his body. afo banned body mods bc a.) tomura wasnt supposed to go outside and b.) because that’s going to be his body someday

tomura has his hair cut short whilst he was in prison, but ends up growing it out again afterwards bc it just felt weird

he gets tattoos. i havent decided exactly what but he definitely lets each of the league design a small stick and poke each for him. probably gets a few video game themed ones too, and some flowers in honour of hana and the rest of his family (sans his father).

during his surgery to get new skin grafts dabi loses all his staples and piercings. after he gets out endeavour gives him some money (with the offer of more if dabi is willing to move back home) but instead touya uses it to replace all his old piercings and get new ones

he convinces tomura to go with him. tomura gets a lip ring and a helix piercing.

dabi always wanted a pet (specifically a dog but he wasnt fussy) growing up but was never allowed one. during prison he was approved for a therapy cat, a scraggly black rescue. she spends 90% of her time riding on his shoulders and hates everyone but him.

at some point he also gets a dog as well. i havent decided what breed yet. he spends an ungodly amount of time training it even tho he insists he doesnt care.

dabi, tomura and shuuichi have never been to a hairdresser before and none of them ever plan to. they either cut their own hair (dabi and shuuichi) or just dont cut it at all (tomura)

dabi and kurogiri are amazing cooks. tomura is an ok cook but only cooks and eats the plainest foods imaginable. himiko, shuuichi, magne and jin are all decent cooks, they just don’t have any particular passion for it. compress isnt allowed near the kitchen unsupervised under any circumstances.

after they find out about dabis 3 year coma the league decides that it means that dabi is actually 3 years younger than he says he is, making him 20 when he joined the league. dabi calls bullshit but both tomura and shuuichi insist that they’re actually older and therefore he has to respect them as his elders. 

maybe at some point after he gets out of jail the todoroki sibs jump on this too. touya is Not Pleased.

dabi and atsuhiro often get high and watch the worst/most obscure movies they can find together

all of the league love watching horror movies together and laughing at them.

garaki replaced the piece of jawbone dabi lost with a piece of someone else’s skeleton. he did a reasonably good job but dabi’s jaw is still ever so slightly lopsided.

bc of the burns on his throat sometimes he ends up not being able to talk, sometimes for up to a few days at a time. in the begining he’d just disappear until he got better or else write down what he wanted to say, but his handwriting is shit so in the end he begrudgingly admitted defeat and learnt sign language. the whole league learnt with him.

kurogiri is half ghanaian and dabi is quarter chinese

spinner had a tail when he was born but his parents ended up paying for it to be amputated when he was young. thanks to stress and a poor diet it never grew back, but after he gets out of prison it does (though it’s always a little shorter than it would’ve been had it grown normally)

they also had his retractable claws removed. later on before he joined the league he got new claws fitted, ones made of metal, but they’re non-retractable

spinner requires more protein in his diet than the baseline human. dabi needs a lot of calories bc his quirk burns through them so fast even when he’s not actively using it.

neither of them realise this until they’re being rehabilitated. they still get prison food, but it is catered to their dietary needs and they both have  realisations of oh so THAT’S why i felt so shitty all the time

after getting out of prison tomura starts going by tenko, but he still responds to tomura

touya considers changing his name to something completely new, but eventually decides not to. he does usually dispense with his surname entirely tho

he usually goes by just touya, no last name

if he absolutely has to give a surname (outside of a legal documents where he has to put down todoroki) he usually just picks one from the league. sometimes he’ll put it down as hikiishi touya, sometimes sako touya, etc.

#league of villains #dabi #todoroki touya #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #toga himiko #mister compress #sako atsuhiro #hikiishi keni #magne #spinner #iguchi shuuichi #mha #bnha #my hero academia #my headcanons #kurogiri #shirakumo oboro

[to00fu]

haaaiii. this is a bit silly but i wanted to tell u how much i love ur art..,.. i found ur acc during my– [looks around] my drarry days..,. shudders.. but i've been obsessed with ur art ever since. when u started posting more jjk stuff i was like aww shucks ... cuz i wasnt into it... but then . boom. ur art awakened somehting in me! and i ran to my laptop and immediately got into it.. BC OF U!! each time u post ur art i wiggle my fingers and go 'dont mind if i do!!' before taking a BIIIG bite of it. chompnnnmmnmm. i love everything abt ur art. the lineart and the coloring (esp ur drawings w more warm colors.. cuz they give me that nice feeling like when uve been out all day but finally retjrn to the comfort of ur home.. yk...), i love the poses and the angles (bc those r so difficult. how do u. huh. how do u dk that.), the differsnt scenarios, i lovs the effort and love that u can see was put into every piece.

i love all ur content. i hope ur love for art never dies out, i hope it becomes stronger with every passing day and every new artwork u make.!!!

images under r visual representation of me seeing ur art. /pos .

OMGG!!! you are literally the sweetest!! im so glad you sticked with me since my hp days 😖 and i am even more glad that you liked jjk because of my art!!! more ppl to be sad with FHDFJDFJD but this really made my day, im happy my art was able to make you feel that way! and yeah, poses are very hard thats why i use references a lot and sometimes 3d models LMAO but again, thank you so so much! i hope you have a great week :3 ❤️❤️❤️❤️

#ask #sweet anon

[butlersxbirdy]

Can I have a fluff piece with Austin where the reader is on their period. I'm on my period right and am dying for some sweet and caring Austin

You got it Nonny! I hope you feel better!

You came home early from your busy day. You couldn't help it, the pain was too much and to top it all off you bled through your dress. By the time you kicked off your shoes, got cleaned up, and changed, you were exhausted. You knew you needed to eat and that a hot bath would help, but you couldn't bring yourself to do anything but lay on your side and cry. You got yourself situated semi comfortably on your bed and you tried to rest, when you heard the front door open. Austin was home.

You remembered, as you heard the door close behind him, that you were going to make a nice dinner for him tonight. There was no way you could now, and the thought made you start crying all over again. Austin hears you and immediately rushes into the bedroom.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He asks, but then he takes in the sight of you, sobbing and laying on your side, and he knows. He undresses quickly, changing out of jeans into soft materials before he lays down beside you, cuddling in close without moving you much.

"I'm here, sweet girl, I'm sorry you're hurting," he hums softly, pressing tender, chaste kisses to your arms, then your face, then the top of your head. "Where's the heating blanket baby?" He asks, and you sniffle.

"The top shelf of the closet. I can't reach up there," you explain and he gasps.

"Oh, that was stupid of me, I put it there babe, I'm so sorry," he gives you a gentle squeeze, then he carefully gets up and gets the heating blanket, folding it into just the right size to cover your belly. He makes sure it's plugged in and warming you up, then he maneuvers himself to sit behind you, holding you between his legs so you can use him as a pillow.

"Careful, I bled through my dress, I cleaned up but I don't wanna get anything on you if it happens-" you warn him, face flushed with humiliation, but he interrupts you with a kiss.

"I don't care," he silences your fears and you lean against him, settling in against his warm chest.

"How can you love me when I'm all crying and sweating and gross like this? I can't even make you a nice dinner," you whisper, feeling pathetic and awful. He frowns and nuzzles you gently.

"What are you talking about? You're the most beautiful girl in the world, no matter what day or week or whatever," he reassures you. "And I don't need a nice dinner, so don't worry about that. You know what my definition of a perfect evening is?" He asks and you look up at him finally, earning a huge smile he saved just for you. You couldn't help but feel at ease when he looked at you like that.

"What's your perfect evening, Aust?" You ask, and he gives you a soft kiss.

"Takeout from my baby's favorite restaurant, watching my baby's favorite movie, and then taking a hot bath before making sure that the girl I love most gets a good night's sleep in my arms," he grins and you blush.

"Are you sure?" You can't help but feel timid. You don't feel desirable at all right now, and you can't imagine that he'd sacrifice whatever else he wanted to do with his night to make you feel better.

Seeming to read your mind, he hands you his phone and then wraps his arms around you fully.

"Its not a sacrifice. I love you, sweet girl. So much. Pick a place and order for both of us, you know what I like. When you're done, I'm giving you a back rub while you pick a movie," he says matter of factly, and you can't help but giggle.

"What?" He asks, confused but happy to see you've stopped crying.

"You go through life, completely, blissfully unaware of how much I love you," you laugh, wincing at the pain in your abdomen. When you wince, Austin places his hand over where he knows you feel the cramps most and you melt into him.

"If you think I'm upset about staying in bed with you and helping you feel better, you are going through life completely unaware of how much I love you," he replies, and as you lay together, he traces the space on your left hand where he plans to put the ring he bought that day. Maybe when she feels better, he thinks to himself as he rubs your shoulders.

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #fic requests

[soobicitos]

hard to love

why? you asked to yourself. why.

your favourite cup slipped from your hand, and shattered into pieces. tears rolled down your cheeks, why?

you couldn't help but feel sad about the broken fret, yet you knew your reaction had a deeper meaning within it.

maybe it was the fact that a cup with such valuable meaning in this state represented exactly what you, in your mind, did wrong. that thing that kept bothering you, wondering if you did something different maybe things could have gone the opposite way. yet you didn't.

"don't cry over spilled milk" your mom used to say, you always had this need to help people, everyone, you wanted to be salvation, the light on their darkest time. yet things never go how you want them to, at least not always. when that happens, you ground yourself crying over what could have been if, or why.

"why did you have to be so broken" always looking for an answer, a reason why.

he was the most beautiful, quiet, calm, comforting person. but he was broken, people broke him. he couldn't go back to his old self anymore, the damage wasn't just a scratch.

yet you wanted to love him, maybe your love could be as effective as glue, you took the time to pick up every little piece and try to fix him. you wanted him to love you the same way you loved him.

maybe you were too selfish, thinking you could bare with all the consequences of it. touching the sharp glass pieces with you bare hands, hurting your fingers in the process, but still trying to put every piece together, to get him back.

you were selfish, thinking you could see the spark of his eyes, you didn't even get to see him that way, the damage was already done when you first met, but you still wanted to see that part of him, you hoped your love would be enough to get him back, that someone you never met but wished you did.

you wished you had met him before, maybe you could have protected him from the world, maybe you could have gotten the chance to watch him smile brightly, getting a better view of his cute fangs get a glimpse of his shiny eyes and him loving you with such force, you would give anything to get that.

you were left feeling sorry. sorry for not continuing to fix him, sorry for not being able to put up with the painful burning the cuts in your fingers made you feel. you didn't run out of love, no, loving him was too painful, so big that it hurt him and yourself. you ran out of glue and bandaids for your bloody hands.

you felt mad, "why doesn't he make an effort too? doesn't he realise how he hurts me?" in fact he did, he was scared, scared to be stepped on, turning the pieces left on the ground into tiny bits of nothing. a little part of him hoped you would get away first, and he wouldn't be so invested on you to even feel sad about it, yet you were so patient with him, holding him so softly treating him with such care, it was everything he had ever dreamed of, but he couldn't give that love back to you, he ran out of it. he run out of songs to sing along with you, and he couldn't help but feel sorry. you didn't deserve him, he knew that, but he was selfish too and enjoyed feeling soft, lovable. not realising the consequences that his own selfishness could bring.

it hit him like a truck, you had snapped at him. the stress work gave you plus your "unbothered" boyfriend was the cause of it. he wasn't unbothered, he was trying his best to confort you or at least show the most affection he had. you two couldn't hold things any longer, he knew the time would come, the time were you would need him, need his love and caring to be overwhelming even, but he decided to ignore it.

you had kicked the glass in frustration "why can't i do it? am i not enough?" you were mad, mad at yourself and how you couldn't help him. you felt even worse when you realised you had broken him even further, just what he was scared of.

"i'm sorry taehyun, i can't keep with this any longer, i really tried to, i really tried but you're just too hard to love" bursting into tears, frustration coming out from every inch of your body.

no reaction. he didn't say anything, he just stared at the crying mess you were. he felt like he had been crushed, even worse with the view he had in front of him, he couldn't move.

even when he had expected this, he couldn't say he was prepared for that moment, he wasn't.

his form of love was too soft, too light and thin, so much that sometimes you couldn't even see it, like it was invisible, it made you insecure, scared that maybe that love was never even there, or it could be broken with such ease that you had to be extremely cautious with it, it was fragile.

your form of love was harsh, rough, loud. and you wanted to be loved with the same amount of force, but you two were too different from each other, opposites.

it wasn't your fault, neither his. you didn't break him, and it wasn't your job to fix the damage others had done, you couldn't. he hadn't recovered yet, he had fresh wounds, big purple bruises adorning his body, and anyone that would make contact with his fragile self would make him feel even more pain, he didn't want to feel that, he was rightfully scared that his scars would get worse.

things out of your control always made you feel frustrated, mad, and sorrow. why would destiny put the both of you in the same place? why did he have to come into your life?

you regret the day you met, you hoped that the sea would have warned you of what was going to happen next, maybe it did. you regret stopping to admire the little drawings he made on the sand, regret asking him permission to get a picture of it.

maybe if you didn't meet him in the beach, he wouldn't have appeared again like it happened in that cafe. oh how easy it was to recognise his pink hair and his beautiful eyes. always wearing soft clothing, looking so calm. he had recognised you as well, looking so bright even wearing the darkest shade of black, he could swear you always managed to stand out without realising. waving to each other, just trying to be polite.

looking back into it, destiny was the worst, the way it made the two of you bump into each other all the time, the way you two grew closer, the way you two fell in love. you hope you never look back into that memory.

staring at the broken cup, your crying was never caused by its broken self, but for the familiar crash that came from it. bringing back the moment you gave up on fixing your favourite person, and how you were left with nothing but the view of him with brand new purple bruises in his pale skin.

a/n: i really hope you enjoyed, this is my first post so it might be a little weird with few mistakes, but i will work to improve !! ㅠㅠ

im not really satisfied with this draft, but i really wanted to post something. if i have any grammar mistakes please tell me !! english isn't my first language so there might be a lot.

#txt #angst #txt angst #taehyun angst #kang taehyun #tyun #txt fic #taehyun x reader

[high-functioning-lokipath]

Breakup Comfort Fic - @vbecker10 request

A/N: @vbecker10 requested this last night...I know I have other requests in my inbox but this was important ❤️ Hope you all enjoy it too!

You roll over in bed for the millionth time, trying to fall asleep. Your stomach grumbles loudly but you just can't find it in you to get food. You knew your heart wasn't attached anymore, but you still felt the loss. Having him around had gotten to be normal, even though you didn't necessarily miss him when he was gone. You turn on your other side once more, exhausted emotionally and physically.

Loki and Bucky put up with each other. They had some in common and didn't hate each other, but they never completely got along either. Unfortunately, there was another problem between them that they agreed not to discuss. You. 

That night as supper, Steve asked where you were. No one knew, they hadn't seen you all day. Bucky looks at Loki with a grimace and Loki nods. The two excuse themselves and head to your room. 

"Any ideas?" Bucky asks.

"Not a clue," Loki replies. The expression on each's face visibly softens when they get to your room door. "Darling?" Loki calls out softly, opening the door.

"We just want to make sure you're okay," Bucky says as they walk in. He picks up on your sniffling and then realizes you're under the pile of blankets on the bed. They both rush over to your side. 

"Who did this to you?" Loki growls, conjuring a knife immediately.

"Loki!" Bucket hisses, kneeling down and pulling the blanket away from your face. "What happened, doll? We're worried for you."

"We broke up," You whisper. Loki and Bucky both freeze for a moment. Their hearts excited but their minds knowing to slow down. "I know I'd fallen out of love months ago, but it still hurts. I didn't even miss him anymore but," You sigh, burying your face in the pillow once more. "Why does it hurt so bad?" You yell. 

Loki flicks his wrist, magicing away the excess blankets and conjuring up a pizza. With your favorite toppings of course. He carefully gets next to you on the bed while Bucky helps you sit up and sits himself on your other side. Now safely sandwiched between the two men, Loki offers you the food. "Please eat something, darling. You haven't come down for food all day."

You reluctantly take a piece and nibble on it. "Good girl," Loki purrs. 

"Hey! That's my line!" Bucky retorts, only teasing, trying to make you smile. He succeeds a little, seeing the corners of your lips turn up a bit. "I-, well, we both are sorry. Even if you don't care for someone, losing a person that was a regular part of your life is hard. I can't imagine what you're going through. But please know we're here for you."

"Thank you. Both of you. I appreciate it."

Loki kisses the top of your head and smiles. "Of course, love. That's what friends are for, right?" He asks, chuckling softly. 

"Um, you know I know, right?"

"Know what, doll?" Bucky asks innocently, internally panicking. 

"I know you both like me." Both men pale and look away in embarrassment. "I mean, I'm not ready for another relationship. Not right now at least. But let's take it one day at a time, hm? Give me a chance to get to know both of you a little better before any decisions are made, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, doll," Bucky replies with a sigh of relief.

"Of course, dear heart. You need time to heal and decide." You smile at both gratefully. "Should we leave you alone, love?"

"Yeah, we don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"No!" You nearly yell, blushing brightly. "I mean, please don't go. I need the distraction right now and, well, you make me feel safe and relaxed." The two make eye contact over you, neither ever having been told they make someone feel relaxed, much less safe. You snuggle in closer between them and close your eyes for a moment. "Alright. It's time you two watch Peaky Blinders. And you're going to watch it with me!"

TAG ME IN EVERYTHING

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Marvel (all characters, including Loki)

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#comfort fic #vbecker10 #request #pre bucky x reader #pre loki x reader #reader breaks up with boyfriend (OC bf) #fluffy comfort #soft angst to fluff

[kanataka-san]

Weasley Twins X Male Reader

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Info:

(Y/N) is Harry's twin brother.

Twins and (Y/N) are together- poly

A bit of angst-

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Before deadly spell could touch Fred somebody shield him, it was somebody redhead cheered the most with his twin.

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His heart got shattered into small pieces. Tears run down his face while casting a spell on the person that killed his lover. Fred came up to the liveless body, lifting it up on his lap.

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He wanted to feel the warmth of his boy, wanted to hear his heart beat, see that exited face when he and his twin showed him new invention to their shop, sparks in his eyes when they catched Y/N in their arms, blush covered face after kisses, his body in their too big sweaters, hear his voice heering on them when they won a quidditch match, this three simple words making their heart beat faster "I love you".

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But now...

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It was gone...

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Forever...

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He was gone...

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Fred felt broken... Soon George found him crying his eyes out, his own eyes widen when he noticed (Y/N)... Not moving. He rushed to his brother and dead lover. Kneeling down he hugged them both.

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Wanting to say something.....

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Anything...

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But nothing came out...

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Just sobs..

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Part of the boys were gone just because of this war.... Older twin managed to say something.. It still came out broken.. "We need to move him to the Great Hall.." The other nooded his head, not wanting to talk, worring about his sobs getting louder with each second.

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Weasley famili was already there. Molly face showed fear about her twin boys but soon changed to relief when she finally saw their red hair. Gasp leave her mouth as she cover them afterwards catthing attention of the rest of the famili.

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"Is that..?" Ginni asked already knowing the answer. "Y/N.." Ron wispered loud enough to be heared. After Fred putted his lover on the grey blanked and got up he broke into tears even more, George did the same. Molly was first to run up and hug them then Arthur joined.

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Harry walked inside looking around at the bodies, crying students, teachers walking around and helping how they could. He saw his friends but his brother was nowhere to be seen..

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Then he saw...

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He saw his brother..

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The only family he still had...

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Dead...

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Right then he know what to do..

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Nobody will die...

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No more..

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TIME SKIP

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Hagrid carried Harry's body in his arms. Voldemort was sure he won the war. Ginni's cries has been heard as well with some of other students, they'ir faces showed loss....

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They lost their last hope..

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Their friend...

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Best friend...

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Lover...

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And brother...

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He was gone.

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"Harry!" at this voice Harry fell from Hagrids hands on the dirty ground. People didn't know where to look but those who decided to turn to who screamed...

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Gasp and cheers were heard as (Y/N)s figure was seen with wand in his hand running to his brother.

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Twins looked at eachother shoocked and happy.

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Potters were alive...

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HE was ALIVE.

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Everyone saw how Potter twins ended Voldemort. As soon as all of this ended (Y/N) turned in direction of his lovers, tears felling down his cheeks as big smile adored his face.

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(H/C) haired boy began to run wanting to feel their warmth, their bodyies, the two steady heart beats.

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When he was neer enough the twins got closer opening his arms for him to jump in.

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Hugging them feel incredible (Y/N) though he'll never do it again, yet here he was, alive- he was with them. "I love you two so much." smaller boy broke into more tears, he felt his dirty shirt got wet which ment Fred and George were crying too.

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After pulling away (Y/N) placed light kisses on their faces not carring about the dirt and wet, salty tear stained cheeks. "We love you too, our little sunshine." All of the three of them were smiling like idiots going for another hug.

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Noticing his brother (Y/N) pulled away, two redheads made a way for him to go to the glassed boy. "Harry.." younger twin looked into direction of the voice and fastly apporached older one.

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The two hugged.

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"No more things like that, ever."

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"Absolutely."

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The war was finally over...  Ewerything slowly became normal in the wizard world.

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Harry lived with Weasleys and (Y/N) with his fiances in their shop, helping in daily duties.

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For the twins, nights were the best- lying with the person you love, cuddled up in eachothers warmth under the blankets on a soft bed in their own home- it was perfect.

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Words:768

[vrisrezis]

Dabi requests you say 👀

I can get some headcanons of Dabi having a boyfriend that’s a nurse? He helps Dabi with his scars and the other members of the LOV when they get back from a mission. I think that would be really sweet 🥰 Thank you in advance!!

spoilers for new ep and slight manga spoilers for dabis backstory . Also I’m very sorry for this being so fucking angsty I have been having insane brainrot

Dabi appreciates you taking care of him, but in the end it’s usually not as sweet as it could be. Because you usually get upset by how far he goes.

You sigh, doing your best to fix the newer burn scars. He was getting worse, these scars weren’t the ones you were used to. They were reaching past his stitches at this point. At this rate he was going to be nothing more than burning, rotting flesh. These thoughts eat away at you everyday, now more than usual. Ever since he revealed his true identity to the world, to his brother, to his father… he’s been.. going too hard. It’s war, you know. But even with keigo he wasn’t like this. Even when you guys were kids, he wasn’t this rough around keigo and especially not you. Jealousy was something he always felt when it came to the blonde but you were always able to quell it, until you couldn’t.

You feared that the same thing was happening again. That he was once again destroying himself, but this time he wouldn’t make it out alive. He just wouldn’t be able to. It was a miracle he turned out alive when you were kids but now..? No way. Not unless he ended up like shigaraki somehow and even that was hopeful, you imagined.

You fixed him up, even though you didn’t cry he knew something was wrong and he knew he was the cause of it. You were always the one to fix him up. There’s an immeasurable guilt he feels, everytime. He knows you deserve better, he knows he shouldn’t have convinced you to join the league in the first place. He knows he should’ve let you live a normal, good life. A life you could be proud of. A life without any regrets and without anymore pain and abuse and fear. But he ruined that for you. You were free but you weren’t happy and he knows that’s on him, even if you try to tell him otherwise he knows it’s his fault you’re so miserable.

He’s known you his entire life, it always felt like he could never live without you. So he decided he wouldn’t even try to live without you. He can’t even imagine how keigos felt this entire time, but he can’t find it in him to care of the shitty blonde. He can barely think about the dirty traitor before wanting to tear him apart. The only reason he stopped himself from killing him was because he knew how upset you, his wonderful boyfriend, would be. You’ve done everything for him, he needs to at least do this one thing for you.

He grabs a hold of your hand, for once it’s a soft, gentle touch. Not rough like you were used to. He had his moments of being soft, even if he acted different these days, even if he was the rough villain known as Dabi, he was still the hurt and abused child, touya at heart. But he was more than just a hurt and abused child, he was a man, despite his roughness, despite seeming like he didn’t care for anyone he was a kind person. You saw it, even if you were the only one. Kind enough to find the value in somebody as pathetic as you, at least. To you, he was the kindest man in the world. That’s why it broke you, to see him destroy himself. In his eyes, he deserved it, he deserves his victory no matter the cost but he also knew he was a total piece of shit that deserved to die just as much as the rest of his family. Even if you didn’t feel the same.

You put your face in his neck, letting out a deep sigh. “I hate when you do this.” you say, trying not to let the tears fall. He lets you do as you please, “I know.” he says simply, guilt racks his entire body, his very soul, knowing he’s only hurting you. But he can’t stop. He won’t stop. And you both know that. He wishes he could tell you how sorry he is he couldn’t provide you more than the shit he gives you. Your love for one another is twisted, you both know it. It’s not normal, some might even say it’s abusive. You both are inclined to disagree, knowing what true abuse was like during your fucked up childhoods. Still, you both know this form of love can’t be good.

“I hate you so much.” you say, with no true malice behind your words. He knows this, but he almost wishes you truly did hate him. Maybe it would’ve made it easier, less painful, to slowly kill himself like this.

In the end, you both know that his need for revenge, his own form of justice, will kill him. And you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle it.

#dabi x reader #touya x reader #bnha x gn!reader #bnha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x reader