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!!female inclined no interaction!!

ok, now imagine Jason Todd coming home from a patrol earlier, there was nothing going on today and he was horny, so when he gets back to his boyfriend's apartment he barely takes his clothes off, just unzips and takes off enough of his pants to fuck you.

He was so lost in the feeling of his tight hole that all he could say was "good boy, take my cock so fucking well".

Jason moves his hand to his waist and holds it tight, his poor cock dripping with pre-cum and all needy from lack of contact of his hand.

Jason doesn't mind the complaining noise so he changes the position on the sofa so that you are facing him with your legs on his shoulder "Look at you baby a mess of moans for my cock" he finally moves his hand to stroke your cock you can see it in the reflection of his red helmet, eyes full of tears and drool running down his mouth.

Jason who is close to cumming starts to babble "what a tight hole, it's not like I fucked him before I went on patrol...baby you're so good on my cock making me feel so good, doing your part to help Gotham" when he finally cums a loud, drawn out moan comes from his lips, the red helmet modifying the moan, his hand still working on his boyfriend's cock “I know you can take more baby, you haven’t even cum for me yet” it the star of a long night and the early hours of the morning.

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Jason Todd coming home from a long night of patrol.

Its late. 1 or close to 2:30 as he’s coming home and pushing the door open gently in case you were asleep. But you weren’t and he thanked the high heavens for it. As you looked up from your IPad, you quickly placed it on the side of your shared bed, in fear that if you didn’t drop it within the first 30 seconds he stood infront of you, you wouldn’t see it again.

Almost in an instant he’s peeling “work” clothes off and dragging you to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He wastes no time in undressing you, leaving you in your (his) boxers.

“I love you tons. Always gonna be here to protect you. Keep you safe. You know that, don’t you?”

Jason whispers to you, above the crackle of the sweet vanilla candle on the nightstand beside you. You nod, and Jasons tongue darts out to wet his lips. The only thing keeping you covered was being stripped away from your body and the fat tip of Jasons cock was being prodded against you, spreading you open.

“Keep that in mind. I’m about to fuck you like I could care less.”

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Jason calls you pet names in different languages until you figure out what they mean.

You finally worked out he's been calling you 'dearest' in Ancient Greek, but now he's switched to a new language, and it's so obvious that it's not originated from Earth.

How are you supposed to know what he's saying in Tamerianian or whatever he's picked up from his adventures in space? Google Translate is subpar at best for languages in general, and it's definitely not going to help with languages from around the galaxy.

Jason's smug about it, and you're just trying to figure out how to use the batcomputer to translate without him noticing. (He's calling you 'my love' in Thanagarian)

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sorry I just can’t resist…😂🔥

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Prompt 2473

“I wish you wouldn’t do this to yourself.”

“Why do you care?”

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The way id be slinking back and forth across camp between astarion and karlach depending on the weather that particular day???

Picture yourself on a particularly freezing, sleepless night-- stood outside of Karlach's tent and practically begging her to lay in your bedroll juuust long enough to make it warmer than the ice cave it is now. Promising you'll buy her anything she wants at the trader tomorrow, if she could just please-

The question hasn't even finished leaving your mouth before she takes off, and you turn to see her all tucked up-- wriggling around like a worm and giggling a joyful, "Woah, your bedroll is so nice!! Can we trade sometime??"

Your linens may be a little singed by the time you get to climb inside, but BOY is it nice and toasty in there! You are boarding the sleepy time express in no time flat.

Nowadays, on any cold nights, when you climb into bed, you find it already nice and warm. And is that the scent of a particular tiefling friend on your pillow, or are you just imagining things?

Alternatively, you annoy Astarion until he finally agrees to let you use his frigid vampiric hands as your own personal ice pack whenever you're feeling woozy from the sun. After all, how inconvenient would it be for him if his only true ally were to die of heat stroke? Obviously, he complains about how sweaty you are but still doesn't move his hand away from where you've got it plastered to your forehead.

The temperature of his skin warms up to match yours after a while, and he doesnt even look up from his reading-- just wipes the sweat off onto your pants before trading out for the one that's been holding his book open.

Sometimes, he's so generous that you don't even have to ask. There are days where he'll notice your sulking from the heat before you do, and he'll approach all sneaky-like and wrap one of his cold, dead hands around the back of your neck as he greets you. He always says that he loves to see the way you jump in surprise at the sudden change in temperature, but you see the truth in the way his mouth ticks up into a rare, sincere smile at the sound of your grateful little sighs. Whenever he thinks you're not looking, of course.

[risfics]

Wash Day

Pairing: Polyam!Camp (is there a proper name for this?). Tadpolycule. Everyone's dating everybody else. Because I said so.

Summary: A bunch of headcanons/thoughts on bathing at camp, because I care about the mundane stuff going on when these guys aren't fighting all day long.

A/N: Tav/Reader is gender neutral and is left racially ambiguous, but has curly hair, because as a curly girlTM I am biased and thought this would be really cute.

-Bathing is usually a solitary affair, that is until you get more comfortable with the others. Wyll and you are the ones that - completely innocently, by the way - start bathing together. Wyll can obviously take care of himself, but it's just nice to know he has someone at camp who understands how much work and care curly hair needs

-You two end up bonding over hair care. Whenever you meet a merchant, you two keep an eye out for oils and soaps that the other could need

-Wash day becomes a fun activity more than a chore - you and Wyll help each other detangle your hair, and in Wyll's case, after a bit of practice, you help him braid his hair. He can do it by himself, but especially now that he has these horns, it just goes by much faster when he has you to help

-Astarion initially teases you about sneaking off to 'bathe' with Wyll. It's not until he realizes that you two are essentially having a spa day in the wild that he goes all "oh thank heavens finally someone who understands" and practically demands to join you

-Astarion's a curly girl too, and one with fancy tastes to boot. He loves exchanging hair care tips with you and wash day becomes a way for him to understand that nudity and physical closeness does not immediately mean sex

-Shadowheart eventually joins you because, Lady of Sorrows, long hair like hers is a hassle. Having people who will happily help rinse out her hair and scratch her scalp while they're at it is a blessing

-Astarion will sometimes braid Shadowheart's hair for her. He likes coming up with elaborate updos, and she ends up looking like an elven princess every single time

-Shadowheart also brings wine to wash day. It becomes a wonderful bonding-bitching session every time wash day rolls around

-Karlach joins because you one day realized that when she's submerged in cool waters and separated from your skin through a cloth or sponge, you can actually (somewhat) touch her. It's her chance to get some form of physical touch in, so she's taking whatever she can get

-She also has a lot of fun splashing Astarion when he gets too mouthy with all of you

-Lae'zel is the opposite of Karlach. Why would she waste her time splashing about like children when she could simply rinse herself off quickly and be done with it?

-But getting crusted blood and guts out of her hair sucks, and she usually rips through it with a comb. You and Wyll at least have the patience to be gentle

-She pretends to hate every second of it, but secretly loves it. Please, someone get Lae'zel a proper spa day, she deserves to relax!

-Gale strikes me as the type of man (that I unfortunately see far too often) that actually has proper wavy hair or even curls, but just has no idea what to do with them and as such simply brushes them out

-Astarion and you sit Gale down one wash day and do a proper curl routine on him. It's glorious, his hair has never looked healthier and some waves and a few stray curls do end up coming in

-The two of you make him swear to never brush his hair out like that again. He's far too handsome to ever go back to brushing out his waves every day

-Gale does know his way around beard care! And with beard care comes some knowledge of skin care

-(I'm totally not using the VA's DnD one shot to make Gale out to be a skincare person)

-On the rare occasion the group has time to relax, Gale and Astarion are in charge of the skin care. Facemasks for all, and yes, even you Lae'zel, stop scowling

-Wyll usually doesn't grow his beard out too long, but with a bit of Gale's coaxing (and super-soft hands when massaging his face), he can be convinced to wear a beard. Sometimes. He's not quite sure if he likes that look on himself, but Gale, as well as Lae'zel, are very big fans

-Once Halsin comes joins camp, he doesn't need a lot of convincing to join them. After all, this is the best way to bond, bare, amongst nature

-Shadowheart, Astarion and you always end up playfighting on who gets to help Halsin with his lovely hair, who gets to help him scrub...

-Wash day is overall a fun occasion, sometimes horny, sometimes not, but regardless, you all enjoy it enough to have it be a routine, one that will be sorely missed once this adventure is over

Bonus thoughts:

-Jaheira reluctantly (but eventually quite happily) joining in on wash day. Her hairstyle looks so tedious, give her a helping hand!

-Bath days for Scratch and the Owlbear Cub. Chaos ensues.

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thinking of karlach who once her engine cools off goes fucking ballistic. nsfw, fem! reader, me being horny for karlach because who isn't. baldur's gate 3 spoilers! i've only finished act one so i start improvising shit.

now, for a woman who has not been able to have even a hint of physical contact for ten years, you have to give her her flowers with how well she seems to deal with being incredibly emotionally and sexually frustrated.

but once she joins your party that hold she had over her body and brain starts to crack. fast.

hell, it started happening before the two of you became romantically involved. while she was drawn to you from the moment you said "yes" to helping a stranger kill a building full of people, she also had eyes and constantly wondered how everyone in the party was so attractive. astarion was never not flirting with someone, wyll was incredibly kind to her, and she could tell when shadowheart was admiring her physique...

but after a few weeks of traveling, fighting, and making friends for the first time in years, eventually during those quiet nights at camp she finds you invading her mind her mind when she rests in her tent to fall asleep, kind of like the parasite, but in a good way.

she thinks of a joke you you made when the two of you were eating by the fire that made her snort like a pig, the way you explored a dungeon and when you found a magical war axe immediately turned to her and gave it to her with a smile, how you so quickly stood up for her when wyll was adamant on killing her because of her past.

your kindness, your intelligence (she's amused when you act like a dumbass and fail when trying to persuade someone), just everything about you, it was only a matter of time before she asked you to join her when everyone fell asleep one night, talking about how you thankfully return her feelings. it takes a turn when you bring up how her condition leaves her pent up, and as you're whispering the sinful things you cant wait to do to her and she do to you.

it hits her full force that oh, she does actually want to fuck your brains out.

after that night everything you do starts to turn her on. like, horrendously. eating a snack on the road? all she can focus on is the way your lips move around the fruit. dancing to a song volo is playing? she's becoming entranced by the way your hips and arms move to the music.

once when the sun was set and the moon was high she headed down to the lake, figuring the rest of the party had already cleaned themselves when she started to undress on the sand, standing still as a statue when she spots you in the middle of the lake, rinsing out your hair when you turn around to look at her.

she can see the water falling from your hair to your shoulders, dripping down over the peak of your nipples, some falling down your chest to between yours legs-

when she comes back later after running off, the ground where she stood was scorched.

but until her engine got fixed, her nights were spent inside her tent rubbing at her clit and fingering her cunt while pretending it was you. the only thing that makes it better is when she can tell you about all the naughty things she thinks about you and seeing you squirm.

once dammon gets another piece of infernal iron and gives her the final upgrade she needs to have physical contact, she at least has the courtesy to take you to a rented room in an inn before she ravages you.

shes tossing you on to the bed and wondering if she should slow down, take it slow with you for your first time together to make it all the more special, but you're staring at her while she's contemplating and youre taking off your top and then youre pants and then youre pulling her by the arm on top of you and she realizes she can save the softness for later.

there's so much kissing, pulling, biting and moaning that after both of your first two orgasms she starts to feel dizzy. she swears shes never felt a greater pleasure than when you were cumming on her fingers, or when you brought her hips up to your face and made her ride your tongue.

she reaches down to your bag that was throw haphazardly on to the floor earlier and finds the toy you bought, the tiefling smiling so brightly her fangs are on full display as she aligns the double sided dildo with your entrance, nearly going cross eyed at the way it slips inside of you before she sticks the other end into her.

she throws your legs over her shoulders, hold your hands in hers, and starts thrusting so quickly its almost like she's afraid she'll die if she stops.

and she is. she has never felt as good as she does in this moment, fucking the toy into you before feeling it do the same to her every time she pulls her hips back.

shes thinking about how much she loves you when she feels your right hand claw at her back.

shes wondering how someone can be so damn beautiful when you arch your back and nearly scream out her name.

she can barely contain herself when she thinks about how she gets to fuck you like this for the rest of her life when her hand leaves yours and grabs onto the wooden bedpost.

your moans of ecstasy reach a pitch and her eyes are taking in every detail as you come undone, to the heaving of your chest and the fluttering of your lashes. its your gentle whisper of her name and a gentle kiss to her lips that tips her over the edge, grinding her hips faster to the point it starts to hurt and she feels her hands tightening and tightening-

her high feels like it lasts forever before she comes back down to earth, breathing heavy with a dopey smile on her face when she looks at you. she's confused by the look on your face, similarly blissed out but your cheeks are bunched up in that way that means youre trying to hold in a laugh...

its only then she starts to feel it : a large chunk of the headboard is in her hand, snapped almost clean off from the rest of in im the height of her euphoria. she cant help but laugh which makes you finally laugh which just makes you laugh harder.

she drops the wood and shakes her hand of any splinters when your hands are wrapping around her neck and pulling her back into you.

she doesn't feel that bad about it.

i've resorted to getting ideas from both dreams and those thoughts you turn into stories while trying to go to sleep im like a genius. i put this in the queue posted it and it only showed up on my blog whats with that.

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Heyyy I see you’re into Baldur’s Gate 3! I was wondering if you can please write something for Shadowheart, Halsin, Karlach and Astarion? Maybe sfw nsfw headcanons if that’s okay with you?

I assume this means you want both sfw and nsfw headcanons.

Pairing: Shadowheart, Halsin, Karlach, Astarion x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, biting, touch-starved, drinking blood, tail use, mild choking, semi-public sex, kissing, protectiveness, battle couple

A/N: Why is this game so fucking good?! Why is everyone so pretty?!

SHADOWHEART

Takes risks with you, she likes to push limits a little. From kissing you in the middle of a battle to dragging you to a barely hidden nook in between buildings for sex. It makes you a mess, putty in her hands and she loves it so much. She kisses you a lot, a lot, to silence you as well when you can keep it down, too drunk on the pleasure her hands give you.

HALSIN

Tends to let his more animalistic urges get the better of him once you're in a relationship. Since you're just his and no one else's he is very protective of you. Due to his experience he can show you many things that make your toes curl and your body go numb. Not your mind though, because he wants you to beg to go again, to ride his big cock and take more cum from him.

KARLACH

Is very sweet with you when you start dating. She's cuddling you, nuzzling you, then letting her rough fingers trace across your clit until you open your legs and let her in. She runs very hot still, her mouth, her tongue, her kisses, her fingers, her love for you most of all. Likes to wrap her tail around your neck too, she doesn't squeeze a lot but hard enough for you to gasp.

ASTARION

Gets so flirty with you that you can hear his smooth voice even in your dreams. He gets very touchy too, clamming he needs your warmth, all he really wants is to touch you. Speaking of warmth, no where better to get it then when his cock is in your pussy and his mouth on your neck, sucking blood when he thrusts forward and no sooner or later. The pleasure you feel makes you taste all the more sweet.

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BG3 characters and their approach to eating you out on your period

MDNI, 18+ content below!

They would eat you out like you're their last meal, and the fact that you're bleeding makes them even crazier about it. They love the taste of your blood, and when it's mixed with the sweet juices of your excitement, they go absolutely feral. They will bite your surrounding areas too - you're not going to be bleeding only from your cunt, but your thighs and belly too. Every time they break your skin with their teeth, they suck at the wound, drawing more blood and making their mark on you more visible. And then they go back to devouring your pussy, playing with your clit to make you release more of that delicious nectar. They could go down at you all night... And once they're done, with your blood and cum smeared all over their chin, they'll smirk, and, while making eye contact with you, they'll clean the mess you've made on their face with their hands that they'll lick clean.

Astarion, Lae'zel, Durge, Orin, Halsin, Nere

They're hesitant at first, not finding it disgusting per say, just unsure if they'll find it as enjoyable as you. Still, after the first few tentative licks, they start to relax. They do not thrive on the coppery taste of blood but rather on your reactions to their tongue and sucking - all the noises and involuntary movements you make. They eat you out diligently, making sure you're fully satisfied. Their hands keep exploring your body too, they want you to feel loved. By the time they're done, which depends on how much you're enjoying yourself, they're a panting mess too, ready to do more with you, if you're willing.

Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Zevlor, Isobel, Dammon

They'll gladly do it, just because they enjoy having control over you and when they eat you out, bleeding or not, that's exactly what they're getting. They don't mind sipping your blood, they'll even tease you about the taste, offering you a kiss so you can try it yourself. They'll make you feel embarrassed for how big of a mess you'll turn into, and they'll make you beg for all of your orgasms. They'll show you no mercy and if you weren't so far gone, you'd notice they're really enjoying themselves too. They wouldn't mind turning this into a monthly thing.

Shadowheart, Gortash, Raphael, Volo, Haarlep, Aylin, Minthara

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Hi! I suffer from Baldur's Gate brainrot. I just stumbled upon your blog and love your writing! Could you do some Astarion, Gale and Karlach headcanons for taking care of Tav after they're badly injured in battle?

Reckless Attack ❣

Grieve, weep, and agonize over a corpse - but know that death is never final in Faerun. The burden of injuries will instead always be present: pain is eternal, no matter how numb. ❥ Astarion/Tav, Gale/Tav, Karlach/Tav. ❥ TW: Descriptive mentions of injuries and gore. ❥ Act 2 spoilers. ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav. ❥ Tav is the nickname for the reader/oc insert. Their real name is up to you!

An Absolutist cult has gathered deep in the bowels of the forests of Rivington. Nothing out of the ordinary... Other than the sheer numbers they possess, creating a dense population of Absolute extremists gathered in stone ruins.

Adventuring parties that dare to end their machinations perished slowly and painfully. Their corpses - what is left of them - are displayed pierced from the gnarled branches of the trees, where they bleed out on the forest ground.

Tav, Astarion, Gale, and Karlach had a plan: throw a barrel full of smoke bombs into the middle of the ruins, firebolt, and profit. Except things didn’t go according to plan (they never do). That barrel was supposed to be at their rendezvous point, but the cultists found it before they did and thought it a gift from their Goddess.

Trapped in hiding, Tav decided to do what they do best: attack.

A potent necromancy curse was successfully cast on Tav, negating any healing spells thrown their way.

Well.

Fuck.

ASTARION

"As always, you refuse to listen to me. And now look at you: a mess. What did I say about running afool to the vanguard?" Astarion does not wait for their response. “Don't do it. It is smarter to be in the shadows in this instance. And what did you do? Ran alone into a quarry of cultists with no sense of self-preservation!”

Anger, pure anger, is present in his voice, sharpening his typical melodic lilt into daggers. If he cared about the present company - Shadowheart, Halsin, and Gale crowded into a tent, surrounding Tav upon their cot - it is nonexistent in his wine-red eyes. They could get lost in those bloody depths for hours. But not now. Not when seething rage roils off of his body like a cloud of darkness.

They look away.

"Nothing to say for yourself, darling?” he mocks. Astarion’s visage twists into a sneer, sharply turning his face away from them. He finds an unused rag, wets it, wrings it of excess water, and then moves past Shadowheart. “Allow me,” he murmurs to her, gentler.

Shadowheart’s inquisitive green eyes understand the depth of the situation immediately. She sighs, clearly annoyed he has taken over her job, but is dissuaded by Astarion’s next string of words: “I’ll clean them up. Magic and healing and all that wonderful nonsense are not necessarily my area of expertise. A firebolt here and there, surely, but I wouldn’t know where to begin with a curse that... Negates healing magic.”

“Sure,” Shadowheart replies, eyes flicking to Tav. Worry is evident over her features. Worry hangs heavy around everyone. Emerging out of battles victorious and grievously injured is commonplace; nothing a mass healing word couldn't fix along with a good night’s rest. Open wounds would be closed scars, ailments would be cured, and broken bones would be unbroken. Rinse and repeat.

This time, it is different.

They, and they alone, were cursed with a necromancy spell that makes all healing magic useless to their wounds.

Their wounds are appalling: Broken ribs evident with the pain swelling in their chest and labored breathing, purple and black blotchy bruises from the hammer blows they took to the shoulder, an open laceration across their chest, their ankle snapped in two, burns on their left leg crawling up their thigh. Blood all over their face from their own and from the enemies they felled.

“Hey, it’s fine,” they wheeze out. "Nothing I can't handle. The cultists are down and dead and buried - everything else can come after."

Hesitantly, Gale opens his mouth to reply, but is abruptly cut off by Astarion snapping out: "No."

"No," they echo. Their brows furrow.

"What a saint you are," Astarion snarls. His lips are down-turned, fangs bared as he speaks, but his ministrations upon their face are soothing. Gently, he rubs off the blood with a cool washcloth, eyes focusing on the task at hand as he cannot bear to look at them.

"Throwing yourself into the heat of battle like that, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Tell me, my dear, do you enjoy watching rational fly past you when you make your impulsive decisions?"

They flush with humiliation and hurt. Broken and battered, they dig their elbow into the cot to prop themselves up and face Astarion head-on, but Halsin presses a hand into their shoulder and pushes them down.

Fuck. Their head spins in circles.

"You're one to talk. Impulsivity is your middle name; you said yourself that planning is not your forte." Even raising their voice hurts but they do it anyway. Their eyes, threatening to slip into oblivion, flood with frustrated tears. "What the fuck is your problem, Astarion?"

"Must I really spell it out for you, sweetheart? You go around, telling everyone exactly what they need to hear. You tell them they aren't alone. That you will help them, that you will ensure they see the future that they want." The words are venom: petty and spiteful and yearning to be understood. "You," Astarion hisses out, "are so blind."

Tempers rising to fever pitch, Halsin tenses from his spot at the foot of the cot. From the corner of Tav's eye, they see Gale murmur something to him, something like, Let this play out. Astarion would never hurt them.

"I am the only one who will take the first step!" Tav cries. The words explode out of their broken chest faster than they realize, flying like an arrow straight toward Astarion's unbeating heart. "I risk my life - every day - for all of YOU! For all the people that need me! For all that I am because-"

"Because what?" He taunts. "Because it is the right thing to do? Look at yourself, Tav! You are on death's door if not for everyone in this room!"

"Because no one else will do it! Not anyone in this damn camp cares enough to- to help the people we could-" They cough violently, but they slam their elbows into the cot to prop themselves up. No one stops them this time as they meet Astarion's burning eyes. "No one cares but ME-"

"WE care about you!" Louder. Vicious. Astarion's voice splits in the air in two in one fell swoop, striking them down like lightning into silence.

He's breathing heavily, panting, as if exhausted. The adrenaline pumping in his veins is begging him to swoop Tav up and run away with them. Away from all of this bullshit and into hiding within the shadows. Maybe the Underdark. Maybe the Shadowcursed Lands. They can descend into madness together.

At least there, they will be safe.

"I care about you," Astarion chokes out before he can stop himself. "More than anything. Do you know that? I hope you know that."

Their mouth forms the words to reply, Of course I do, but it doesn't leave their throat. Instead, it stays stuck there like a fluttering butterfly, forced into silence. It hurts to speak. It hurts to talk. It hurts to see him like this.

He calls out their name so quietly it could have been a trick of the wind.

"Astarion," they plead.

He shakes his head, stubborn and unconvinced. "You don't owe these people anything. You certainly do not owe them your life for their burdens. I," he breathes out, voice as shaky as a leaf in the wind. He screws his eyes shut and clenches his fist around the rag, where their blood stains his palm.

"I almost lost the sun of my life today."

When Astarion opens his eyes, they are steeled with resilience and fury as they gaze into theirs. It is hypnotic. It is lonely. They yearn to comfort him.

"It will not happen again."

GALE

"Easy," Gale murmurs, a strong arm laying them down in his tent. Soft blankets and pillows meet their back, and the cushy grass beneath makes for a cool and comforting sleep. Their breath stutters, but Gale gazes at them so fondly as he pushes their hair from their face that the pain eases.

He does not miss their labored breathing. "Shhh shh shh. I've got you. Just focus on me."

His thumb lingers on the swell of their cheek. His eyes flutter close. A gentle glow of purple surrounds him, and eventually, that gentleness extends to Tav. The agonizing, piercing sensation in their chest numbs into a cool, muted nothingness. They gasp - then exhale in relief, slower than their panicky, short breaths from before.

"That's it," he encourages. "Well done, my love. How are you feeling?"

"So-so," they reply. Their voice aches and croaks, but for some reason, it makes Gale smile.

Oh no. He knows that look.

They study his handsome, tired face, looking for any signs of alarm. Is he hungry? Does he need to feed on another artefact? Was there an envoy telling them they missed another Absolutist hideout? Did they miss something? Did they do something wrong?

No. Nope. "Enough of that." He takes their hand, kisses their knuckles, then sighs. "You're the last person who should be worrying about someone. Such a pest, hm? Always buzzing around me like I'm seconds away from disappearing in front of your eyes..."

"You are," they say. Their brows furrow, and they pant out, "The-- your burden to carry, the--"

"The orb, I know. I know." His heart twists. It aches. He failed Mystra before and that was painful. But this is another subject entirely; it couldn't come close. Watching sheer heartbreak in their expression because of him? Oh, Goddess forgive him, he has failed them.

Gale can scarcely celebrate his victory, too. He undid the damned curse that affected Tav's ability to receive magic. The necromancy spell was so potent that Tav rejected any healing spells thrown at them. Late into the hours of experimentation, he, Halsin, and Shadowheart considered allowing the effects to wither and die rather than exterminating it outright. It was Jaheira who told them it would be inefficient, because how long would they have to wait in camp while Tav rode out the effects of the curse? Ideally? Hours. But days? Weeks? Months?

He spent the long night following and feeling out the curse with the Weave. It was a complicated hex - a tangled knot of magic that had to be unwoven carefully, thread by thread. Every connotation, every intent was traced back to the heart of the curse, and he followed it with abandon.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble, then," they whisper.

"You should be," he jests. "Nearly made my heart collapse, seeing you like that."

The image is still burned into his mind. He can't stop thinking about it. His mortality has always been a dreadful afterthought pushed into the further recesses of his tadpole-addled brain, but was he so taken with Tav that he never realized how mortal they were, too?

No. No. Gale tightens his grip on their hand, giving them a comforting squeeze as they breathe in and out, in and out. It's not that he never realized how susceptible they are to death and danger. He just never wanted to confront it.

"You are changing the very premise of my life," he says softly. An exasperated chuckle leaves him as he shakes his head, adding, "as always. I don't know what I would have done if I actually lost you, back there." What wouldn't I do? "No scrolls of revivifies, no Withers to bring you back. I wouldn't be able to accept it."

He understands Ketheric Thorm all too well, now.

"Come here," they whisper. Gale lets their hands press into the back of his head. He thinks, absently, that he would let them do much of anything. In their care, he is no grand wizard with a plethora of achievements under his belt. No. He is as humble as the Weave itself, and their hands compose music and art for him to simply bear witness to.

They rest his head upon their chest, where his ear can listen to the comforting sound of their beating heart.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud thud.

"Good night, my love," Gale says, when their breathing evens and they have finally fallen into peaceful slumber. He does not sleep at all.

KARLACH

"Oh gods. Oh gods!" Karlach clasps Tav's left hand between hers, holding tightly and vowing to never let go. Their blood stains her hand and chest and clothes. It's everywhere. Sickly sweet and sticky, drawing all of her attention from the room to the sensation of it dripping down her skin.

They've lost so much blood. It's nauseating, like an unsettling reality has just settled in her stomach.

"Tav!" She exclaims, helpless and pathetic. "Why did you do that, you big idiot? You seriously could have gotten killed out there, why-- why aren't you..."

Responding? Where are their quips, their sass, their brightness she fell so fast and hard for? Tav lays there upon the cot, broken and battered. Karlach has seen the remains of her enemies after she has slaughtered them and has barely flinched. She can barely stomach the sight of them bloodied, bones twisted in the wrong way, bruises so purple they're as black as a chasm.

All they can do is breathe. Their eyes focus distantly above them to the roof of the tent, but nothing else.

Panic seizes her faster than she can control it. "Are they breathing?! Are they going to survive this?! Fuck," she growls, running a frustrated hand through her dark hair, matted with blood. "I should have made those sons of bitches suffer."

"Karlach," Shadowheart says, firm but gentle, her hands bloody too as she applied pressure down on Tav's wounds, "it was important that you returned them to camp as fast as you did. Sometimes, we do not have the luxuries to let our enemies die in pain."

Right. Right. Karlach watched an Absolutist barbarian slam his warhammer into Tav's back. Once to knock them down. Twice to keep them plastered on the ground. Once more to keep them unconscious. She saw red, then: the rage she slipped into boiled her veins so hot, the howl she let out sent her surroundings enemies into a frightened frenzy. She hacked her great axe into the barbarian over and over and over until he was nothing but a bloodied pulp of a man, more gore than flesh.

She scooped Tav up from the ground. Karlach never let anyone else touch them. She snarled and snapped at the others who tried to come too close and dead sprinted as fast as she could back to camp.

She heard their choked sobs of pain in her arms. They choked out her name, and Karlach couldn't offer them much of anything other than an, "We're going home, bubs, just hang on. 'Kay? You just focus on me."

"Can I stay here?" She begs Shadowheart. "I won't get in the way. Just let me hold their hand, please."

Shadowheart exchanges a conflicted glance at Halsin. He nods, and she sighs. "Fine," she says. "But - I need you to stand to the side for now. You can hold their hand after we're done figuring out how to undo this curse."

"A fine specimen of a curse, really," Gale adds, his hand curled under his chin. "I'm almost impressed."

"I would be too," huffs Shadowheart, "if our reckless leader wasn't caught up in this mess. Really, what were you thinking?"

"Right?" Karlach shoves off into the corner of the tent, doing her best to keep herself as small and as out-of-the-way as possible. Tears flood her eyes, and she chokes out, "Of all the things to do, why did it have to be that? I thought you said you trusted me! To have your back! I have your back, don't I? Don't I?"

"Of course you do," Halsin croons. He hooks his finger into a bottle of salve, and spreads it on Tav's burns. Tav visibly winces and tenses, whimpering in pain.

"Stop whatever you're doing right now!" Karlach wails. "You're hurting them! I'll kill you, Halsin, I swear it!"

Gale exchanges a look with Shadowheart. He ponders deeply for a moment as Karlach sobs devastatingly behind them. He opens his mouth, then shuts it promptly.

"Just say it," Shadowheart urges impatiently.

"We should play a game," he suggests. "The quiet game."

"No way," Karlach hiccups. "I'm dogshit at that game. Anyway, focus on Tav or I'll gut you, seriously."

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

[risfics]

Hello! May I request Lae’zel, Karlach, and whoever else you want to write being washed by the reader. I find the idea of bathing and taking care of someone to be really sweet.

Headcanons + Blurbs for Being Taken Care of/Washed by Tav

A/N: Hello! Sorry for just getting around to requests and other things now, the end of the semester got pretty crazy (at least I passed everything !) and now I’m finally able to focus and get out of this rut. Thank you for your patience and I hope you like it!

Characters: Lae’zel, Karlach, Shadowheart, Wyll, Gale, Astarion, Halsin

Lae’zel

• When you first offer to wash up with Lae’zel she’s mostly confused and kind of annoyed - there’s already a tadpole in her head, and that’s enough lack of privacy.

• “Chk. At my crèche these things are normal. However, you istiks insist on attaching emotional meaning to such things… no.”

• However the more she thinks about it… you two have shared a bed more than once. She respects you more than the others; when she tells you to speak she also makes sure you know she will listen. She supposes that maybe connection wouldn’t be so bad with you of all people.

• She just walks up to your tent, grabs your hand, and says “Fine.”

You meet her at the waterfront and- is she nervous? Her gaze wavers between you and the night sky, feet firmly planted into the ground and arms across her armored chest. You get most of your armor off, but that last clasp just has to give you trouble. “Lae’zel, could you help me out with this?” It’s silent for a tension filled moment, and you’re about to ask again.

“Chk.” She walks over and with ease undoes the clasp. She’s back to feet firmly planted and arms crossed, only looking at the sky. You unfurl your hair from its practical braid and keep your eyes on her. “I wish I could show you the Tears.” Your eyes widen when you think about the first night she invited you to her bunk, how hard getting used to this unusual plane must be for her. You place your hand on her shoulder and she tenses, but relaxes after she’s brought back to the moment.

“I wish I could see them.” You whisper to her. You ‘help’ her out of her armor (she’s just letting you at this point, she could’ve been out of it in 30 seconds flat) and you both hiss as you enter the cold water. After a soft and asking touch, she allows you to undo her hair and wash it. You gather her hair gently into your hands and have her lean back to the water. As she does, you can see that she clearly hasn’t been this vulnerable in maybe ever. You give a soothing stroke to her scalp and she hums. As you lather the looted soap into her hair and scratch your nails lightly, you hear her sniffle.

“Lae’zel… are you alright?” You stop your ministrations but keep a hand cupped at the back of her neck.

“My-my queen is false. I will never ascend. Tsk’va, I’m an enemy to my kin. I don’t want to be on this plane anymore… I miss the astral. I must fight but I do not know how to keep going.” She quickly wipes her tears and looks at you. “Speak, source of my bruises. I will always listen.”

With her hair looking clean, you slowly move the bar between her shoulder blades and move it in soothing circles. You kiss her temple. “My love, this situation is quite a mess. Tadpoles in our heads, endless injuries, and I cannot imagine what this world must be like for someone who has never been in it. We will get through this. I’m here. I’m yours.” With that she shows an inkling of a smile as she stares into the water in thought. You continue to bathe her with soft kisses in between every swipe of soap along with words of reassurance. You are hers, the source of her bruises.

Karlach

•Once Karlach is able to touch people again, she is ecstatic to wash up with you. She’s barely been able to keep her hands off of you since, so when you offer she squeals.

• “Of fucking course soldier! Who knows, we might even be able to turn that river into a hot spring.” Her eyebrows waggle and your face goes beet red.

• When you meet her she definitely cannonballs into the water and complains when it’s shallow

• “Aw hells, that’s gonna be a kink to work out in the morning.”

• You guys don’t bathe for a good 15 minutes, she’s just kissing you and rubbing your sides and it’s so SWEET

She breaks away from the kiss and wades further into the water. You grab the soap from the grass and follow after, settling your arms around her neck and wrapping your legs around her waist. Her fingers come up to pinch your nose and she flops backwards into the water, leaving both of you sopping wet when she comes back up. “Gods Karlach you’re gonna kill me,” you sputter as you cough out the bit of water that got in your mouth. She pats your back and lets out a full bellied laugh.

“That’s right soldier get it all out,” she grins. You shoot her a playful glare. When your collective giggles finally die down, you bring the bar of soap up to her hair and begin lathering and spreading it with your fingers. Her eyes close with a serene smile. You make sure to get the area around her horns, and she kisses your cheeks as you take care of them. “You know… after Gortash. After… Avernus. Nobody has taken care of me like this in so long. So fucking long.” She sighs as you bring the bar to her neck and chest, taking away the near pints of blood the party had spilled earlier.

“I’ll make sure it never is that way again. I love you, and no matter what happens you deserve to be free from all of this.” You meet her gaze as the bar moves to her shoulders, and you see fear.

“Tav… my heart.” She lets out a choked sob and a tear streams down her cheek that you immediately wipe away. “I finally have you after so godsdamn long, and I don’t want to lose what’s most important. Not again. I’m just so scared.” She breaks down into tears and her skin heats up warmly under your skin. You crush her into your chest and she buries her face into your neck, where you rub soothing circles into her scalp along with kisses.

“You won’t lose me. Whether it be in Baldurs Gate or Avernus, I’ll be here.” She lifts her head and you kiss her nose, where a little flame sparks and then snuffs out. She lets out a soft chuckle as her mood cools. “I promise to you we’re gonna kill that pathetic little fucker and anyone who helped him.” Her lips meet yours and you kiss back with eager passion. As you pull away you go back to soothingly rubbing the bar across the planes of her back.

“Wait- didn’t you grab this soap off a dead guy?! GROSS soldier!”

Shadowheart

•She immediately says no

•Not because she doesn’t trust you, she just can’t swim and finds it a bit embarrassing for her powerful presence

•After you finally convince her it’ll only be where she can stand, she agrees.

• “A bottle of wine, my lover, and a nice grassy beach? It’ll do,” she gives a sarcastic but playful smile.

•You two get plastered on Chultan Fireswill before you hop in

After one last swig from the bottle Shadowheart takes your hand and leads you into the water. You stop at around three feet deep and get to your knees. Her braid whips around her shoulder as she serenely begins to scrub away blood with the soap bar. “I love this silver color so much. It illuminates you as some would say,” you utter softly, and she chuckles. She slowly takes her hair out of the braid’s confines and your jaw drops at how long and pretty it is as it flows down her back. You look pointedly to the bar of soap. “May I?”

She squints at you in playful suspicion then smiles. “You may.” You lather the soap into her hair and she lays her head back into your chest as you scratch lovingly at her scalp. She brings her hand up to your cheek behind her and whispers, “The moon looks beautiful tonight.” As soon as the words leave her lips the wound in her hand opens. She hisses and sits back up. As she looks back to you, her gaze looks broken. “After everything I’ve been through with the dark lady, I don’t think this will ever go away.”

You inch your hand closer to hers, placing your pinkies over each other. “It’s horrible… what she did to you.” She grins bitterly but moves to interlace your fingers, rubbing the back of your hand with her thumb.

“I just wish I could remember any of that horrible stuff. I want to be angry. But mostly I’m only numb. She was… she was everything to me. And although it is horrible yes, it’s all so new. Being away from her.”

She nods in confirmation as you move the bar of soap to her chest, the motions soothing her and making her eyes soften as she watches you. “I understand,” you whisper as you lean up to kiss the shell of her pointed ear. That’s all that needs to be said, Shadowheart thinks to herself. You’ve become more than her greatest companion in her eyes, she trusts you’ll be there through thick and thin. “We’ll just have to make new memories,” you smile, and as you finish rubbing the soap across her body you throw it back to the grass, pulling her into a loving kiss as she wraps her arms around your neck.

Wyll

•When you offer to wash up with Wyll a MASSIVE blush runs across his cheeks

• “Are you sure? ImsurethehornsfreakyououtandtheresbumpsinotherstrangeplacesIdontwantyou-“ he basically starts talking at a mile a minute about how it might be awkward for you

• “Wyll honey, I can just meet you there while you’re already in if that’s more comfortable for you” and you give him a sweet smile and his face goes red AGAIN

By the time you get to the waterfront, you see Wyll propped against a rock, the water resting at waist level with his arms propping him up. You throw him a shy smile. He has a sly grin and nods your way, beckoning you towards him. You twirl your finger and mouth, “Turn around!” He lets out a silent chuckle and turns his head towards the mountains beyond the lake.

You slide out of your evening clothes and grab the soap bar laying on top of your towel. As you wade further into the water you let out a shriek — it wasn’t winter right? Wyll turns around and laughs at the sight; you’re rubbing your arms with chattering teeth. “It is quite frigid tonight, huh? I think I’ve got a cantrip in me for a special someone.”

You look around, bemused, as to how spells could possibly help you out here. Wyll shoots a fireball into the depths of the water, your skin instantly warming up. However, it doesn’t last long as the lake cools back down to freezing. You swim at the speed of light over to Wyll and wrap your arms around his neck. “Sorry, I just need something. By the nine hells you think a blizzard would be rolling through,” you laugh. When you’ve warmed up enough, you take the bar of soap and gingerly begin to wash and lather his hair and horns, kissing the scars across his face.

Wyll looks down at you, surprise slathered across his face as you finish up with his head and move to his broad shoulders, kissing everything infernal you can find. “Tav…you like this?” He brings up a hand to your cheek as you continue your ministrations. You cup water in your hands and gently rinse away the soap on his chest.

“Of course I do, Mizora could make you look fully cambion and I would still have the strongest of feelings for you. You’ll always be my dashing, strong, Blade of Frontiers,” you peck his neck with each last word, and he laughs, kissing your forehead with a soft cherishing smile.

Gale

• When you offer to Gale, he gives you the most devious look you’ve ever seen

• He hasn’t been around others for so long till now, much less bathing with anyone, and he’s grown pretty strong feelings for you so he love love loves this idea

• “My dear Tav I would love to! You know how I enjoy your body after a battle, all the sweat covering your skin and the flush of your cheeks”

• He’s not your quietest companion so everybody does hear this and everybody does let out an exasperated groan

• Your face flushes even further than when you asked him and you squeak out an okay and run to your tent

When you meet up with Gale at the waterfront, his tunic is already off, showing his surprisingly wonderful muscles. He kisses you upon greeting, and helps you out of your evening clothes with a soft caress here and there on every part of your body. You grab your soap and lead him into the water, the water being just warm enough for your plans.

He gathers you into his lap, his cheeks a light red as he grins up at you. You lather the soap and scrub it into his hair, listening to his groans and praises as you work. You kiss his cheeks as you move to his chest, and he finally opens his eyes again, looking up at you with those big round puppy eyes.

“This is surprisingly wonderful. I remember doing things like this for her, running water through her hair and lathering the finest oils onto her skin, but she never once did anything for me.” You stop your work, looking up to his eyes with an expression of shock and sadness. His eyes bore just as strongly into yours, and his thumbs rub circles into your hips.

“Gale… you are worthy of being loved. What she did to you wasn’t right — it never was, even from the beginning if I’m getting my facts straight. She isolated and took from you. I never want you to feel like that with me.” You kiss his cheeks and his hairline, and his lips follow yours, chasing to press them together.

They finally do, and his kiss is filled with eager passion, pouring every thought he’s had about you into you. When you pull away he lets out a soft whine, bringing his hand to your neck. “I’m in love with you, darling. And I know and trust that you feel the same, any need of the tadpole be damned.” You smile and begin to continue rubbing the soap into his stomach, but he stops you. He brings his lips to yours once more, and he rolls you over onto your back in the water, letting you prove how loved he is.

Astarion

• His eyes go soft and round when you ask him

• “Really?? Little old me??” Even after the graveyard and all your reassurances, he’s still moving towards actual coupley things

• “You’ve never wanted a luxurious meal and bath together my love?” You take his hand stroke his fingers with care

• If he could blush he would, but he just sputters with the goblet of wine he has

• He collects himself back into charming mode, “Well then, I thought you’d never ask. Come find me when you’re ready.” He kisses your cheeks and literally just walks off into the woods, leaving you standing at the entrance to your shared tent looking absolutely befuddled

When you find him at the hot spring the camp had discovered last night, he’s already in the water with his eyes closed angling his head towards the night sky. His ears twitch as he hears you begin to take off your evening clothes, and his eyes open to look at you with a rakish smile. “Why hello, my treasure. The water feels amazing.” You smile, grab your soap and head in. Immediately you groan with relief, the hot water soothing the aches from your nasty fight with some undead earlier.

Astarion moves closer to you, taking the most warmth he can get. You bring your arms around his neck and just stay there for a minute. He hugs you back, burying his face into the crook in your shoulder. You fingers lightly stroke against his raised scars in a loving motion, and after his breath hitches he melts into your touch, practically purring as you lavish him with affection. When you pull away his loss of heat is devastating. However, he calms down when you begin to wash his hair, scratching at his scalp and running the hot water over his curls.

“I don’t think I’ve ever let anyone touch my hair like this,” he mumbles. You kiss his cheek and move the bar to his chest and shoulders, working out any aches and pains he might have.

“Well, now you have me my love,” you whisper, kissing the tip of his ear.

“I just can’t believe that after everything you want to stay. The sky is beautiful tonight, but it is all I will ever know once this mindflayer business is said and done with.” His words are bitter, almost as if he is angry with himself.

“It is all we will know my love. And I’m actually quite the night owl. As much as I love our ragtag group, I’m quite introverted around most of society. Everything is fine,” you kiss his bite marks, the hollows of his cheeks, and finally his lips. He kisses you back fervently, pouring care he was never able to show for anyone else previously. You pull away and finish gently washing the rest of his body in silence. As you prop your neck to the side for him, he looks at you with an expression akin to great offense.

“Darling! I thought you knew me well enough to know the bath is never over after only soap.” He waves his hand over to the small crate of oils he’d brought to the spring. “Now, I’m feeling lavender tonight. How about you my love?”

You give him a beaming smile, wading out of the spring to retrieve it. “Sounds wonderful, my heart.”

Halsin

• You don’t even really have to ask him, he’s just joined you most of the time to protect you

• He doesn’t like you venturing out in to the woods by yourself, because Silvanus help him a lot of people are after you guys

• “Of course my heart — Scratch is licking at his paw a bit so I need to inspect that, but I will join you in just a couple of minutes.”

• With an encouraging woof from Scratch, you caress his shoulder and go to collect your things

You’ve stuffed all the stuff needed for the bath into two large bags, your arms making you crouch downward with the weight. As Halsin walks to meet you he sees this, chuckles, and wild shapes into his bear form. He takes the bag handles into his mouth and nudges your leg with his snout. You pet his head and hop onto his back, him letting you ride on it as you both make your way to the water.

On arrival, you hop off and he drops the items into the grass. As his bear form is used most in combat, you grab out a bottle of soap you’d nicked off of that crazy dog handler in Rivington. You drizzle it all over his fur and gather some of the river water into a bucket. You begin scrubbing the soap into his fur, and he lets out cute little groans and growls. When you finish you dump the bucket of water onto him, and he lets out a noise of surprise. He turns back into regular Halsin, his hair soaked down against his head with playful exasperation.

“My heart, you did not need to release the full power of a waterfall onto me I assure you.” You laugh and beckon him into the water. He wades in and smothers you with kisses.

“Halsin please! I need to breathe!” You giggle, pushing at his chest. He finally settles down, pulling you into his lap.

“Thank you for helping me with the shadow curse. Thaniel he… he needed us. He needed you.” He settles into a somber smile, nuzzling his nose against your temple.

You trace your fingers across his chest, leaving kisses that follow. “I knew the lands needed our help, and I’m glad he’s free from the curse. All we have left is this elder brain, and we can go back to the grove and live in peace.”

He tilts your chin up with his hand, and looks tenderly into your eyes. “I would be blessed by Silvanus to spend my thousands of years with you.” He crashes his lips into yours, one of many you’ll share over the passage of time.

[risfics]

last post tonight I swear but ellie dating a big boobed reader would entail her shuffling thru ur drawers and plucking out one of yr bras, holding it up to her own boobs and going "whoof, god damn" looking at all the empty space hers couldn't fill with pie sized eyes and perked brows.

i wanna suck on hers tho

[risfics]

margaret - lana del rey | nanami kento

.. just when you thought nanami left behind nothing, you discover a letter on the top of his closet... addressed to you.

content: 0.9k words, anime spoilers, fem!reader, small banana fish allusion at the end because i hate my life

author's note: i'm not okay.

it’s october 31st, 2019, and you think you’ve finally gained enough courage to clean out kento’s closet.

one year. that’s exactly how long it’s been since his death. ever since you found out that your fiance was a part of the thousands who fell victim to the shibuya incident, the days have blurred into one another. each day seems monotonous and devoid of life without the man who promised to spend the rest of his life with you.

each day, you just dream of the day that you’ll be able to see him again.

still, no one was using the clothes from his closet. you knew your fiance would’ve preferred it if you donated his clothes to someone who could actually use them. you’ve been putting it off, since you knew that the smell of his clothes would just fill your heart with yet another round of painful memories. despite that, you knew you had to do it one day.

you haven’t touched his closet since the day he died. his clothes still smell like his perfume, and everything is neatly folded. you take one of his shirts with a shaky breath and revel in his scent, eyes watering knowing that even though his scent is still there, he isn’t.

and that makes you feel alone. fuck, you feel so awfully alone. 

your eyes scan through the entire closet, wondering where you’re gonna start with the cleaning. then, something sticking out of the top of your closet catches your eye. it seems so deliberately placed- wait, is that an envelope?

standing on your tiptoes and taking the envelope, you gasp–realizing that it's a letter addressed to you. from kento.

as far as you knew, your fiance didn’t leave anything behind for you other than a few broken promises. your engagement ring still rests on your ring finger, and it breaks your heart knowing that your wedding day will never come. he promised to marry you, that your honeymoon would be in kuantan, malaysia; and eventually–you’d buy a small house there just for the two of you, where sorcerers and curses are finally alien words and the rest of your days are spent out on the beach.

of course, none of that would ever happen now. you live knowing that your engagement ring will never be replaced with a wedding ring.

still, you thought that you’d live the rest of your life knowing that nanami never left anything behind for you... but this letter was new. you open it up, finding words scrawled in the handwriting that you knew all too well.

“to y/n—my love,

if you’re reading this, then it means that i’m dead, and i’m sorry.

i’m writing this letter because i know that as a jujutsu sorcerer, coming back home is never guaranteed. and yet, if i ever die, i don’t want you to be left behind with nothing. so one day, you’re going to have to clean out my closet, and you’re eventually going to find this letter.

i’m writing this hoping that you’re never going to have to read this, and i’ll throw this letter away eventually because i lived to come back home to you. 

but we both know that there’s a chance i might not come home.

living to see the next day isn’t guaranteed for any of us. not for me, and not even for people like gojo. so if it ever comes to this, i want you to live for the both of us, love. it’s difficult but i truly don’t want to hold you back from being happy just because i’m gone. fall in love again and live your life. then, when i see you again, you can tell me everything, and i’ll be excited to hear all about it.

i can hear you outside right now humming while making dinner. i want the rest of our life to be domestic like that—but sometimes, life isn’t always fair.

i remember getting photos of us printed out, because whenever i would be out on a mission, i found myself missing you all the time… so i always kept photos of you and me in my phone case. i want you to have these photos because they kept me going whenever i wasn’t able to be with you. i hope you can eventually learn to do the same, love.

just know that i love you. i love you so, so much, dear. you’re my reason to live. you’re the reason why i love coming home every day—you’re the reason i work as hard as i can so you’ll never have to read this letter. and i really do hope that you’ll never, ever read this.

i love you and i’ll repeat it until the entire world knows it. i’m sorry that i never got to marry you. i’m sorry that we never got to go to kuantan together. i’m sorry that i never got to do the things that i promised i would. 

even though i’m sorry for everything, you might’ve noticed that i haven’t said goodbye. that’s because i won’t say goodbye, because eventually, there’ll come a time when the stars align and we’ll meet again, no matter how far apart we are. and i can’t wait to see you again…

…because then, i’ll make everything up to you.

love, 

kento.”

[risfics]

ooo imagine when jason first turns into a vampire and he just doesn’t want to hurt anyone or suck some random peoples blood so he comes to you, whining and kissing your neck before asking if he “can just have a little taste. please, baby?” and who are you to deny him?

he’s so grateful for you that he shows you just how grateful by fucking you so good and hard, making sure you know how appreciated you are

tehehehehe

listen, im a firm believer in the erotic nature of a vampire drinking their lovers blood. tbh i think i treat it more like an aphrodisiac than anything. so yeah, jason’s new to all this, to that unbelievable thirst that makes him almost forget who he is, but he would never drink from anyone else, that’s too.. personal to share with anyone. “baby, can i drink… promise i won’t take too much” and of course you let him, you’ll indulge him whenever he wants. and his fangs press against your neck, you let out a little sigh, your life in his hands..between his teeth. the way his grip tightened on your thigh didn’t go unnoticed either.

he presses a kiss where he drank, and his kisses dance across your neck, over your chest, down your torso, and then he’s at your thighs. and then he’s between them he’s drinking you in as of his hunger wasn’t for your blood “fuck.. every part of you just tastes so good, all of it how could i not want to taste you all the time”

[risfics]

Big Spoon or Little Spoon?

Little spoon. Jason Todd little spoons and it's partly because he's touch starved (can you all tell I adopted this headcanon as canon?), but also because no matter where the bed in a room is located, he needs to be able to be in front of you, and face the door.

You need to be behind him, and he needs his arms free and able to grab his guns, or any weapon really, if anyone were dumb enough to break into the room, trying to catch him by surprise.

This becomes more difficult if there are windows involved, but he solves that by ensuring whatever safe house or apartment you stay at doesn't have a bedroom window. Dreary? Maybe. But it helps ease his paranoia if he only has to worry about one entrance way.

That's the only thing he'll admit to.

But he always relaxes in a loving embrace, the warmth of another person behind him, soft and slow breaths tickling the back of his neck, a relaxed and steady heartbeat against his back. The hold reminds him he's not alone, that he's loved and desired.

[risfics]

HERE ME OUT WITH THIS ONE

So Jason and Reader just get finish with spicy times (😏) and reader is laying on his chest, tracing all the scars and old wounds on his body while asking him questions about it as he answers nonchalantly😍😍

(I’m actually so in love with this man it’s BAD)

-🥔 anon

He makes me wanna chew him like a chew toy so he can tell me to stop then hug me like a puppy 🧍🏽‍♀️

I did this on an off mood day so it’s not really large as I wanted, but I hope you like it!

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Time written - 4:55 p.m

TW - Autopsy Scar mention.

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His breath is heavy and labored, his body feeling loose with jelly-like limbs, but that doesn’t stop him from tugging the bunched up blankets around your bare body, accepting your sweet gaze with a handsome smile.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Jason, even in his moment of pleasure and exhaustion, he makes sure to say such words loud and clear.

“I love you too,” you exhale, your cheeks still flushed after such an intense climax. He chuckles softly at that cute little afterglow as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

He doesn’t say anything else, allowing pure silence to invade the bedroom. It’s late, and he’s exhausted both physically and emotionally after such long, hard hours. The day has taken a lot out of you both, with him still recovering from his wounds, and you helping to treat him, Jason would love nothing more than to just close his eyes for a moment after such stress relief.

“I love you so much,” he whispers against your skin, his rumbling voice still a little hoarse while running his hand along your shoulders, fingertips trailing soft, soothing motions over your skin.

Your fingers absentmindedly trailed along the deep, silvery indents coming together in between his pecs. A deep, slim line cutting in between his abs, neither straight or crooked the day the scalpel cut deep through his skin to begin his autopsy.

“Jason?” You break the silence.

“Mm.” He opens his eyes, gazing along your collarbone. “Yeah?”

You almost wanted to ask about this scar, only to change your mind at the last minute, recalling his healing bullet wound in his left bicep. Of course, you’d expect him to heed your concerns when he peppered your neck with kisses about an hour ago. You should’ve known better to think anything would stop Jason from what he wanted.

He looks down just a little more, noticing just how focused you were on that long, ancient cut of his all along the entirety of his chest.

“Does it still hurt?”

Jason’s eyes follow your fingers as they trail across his body. It’s a sensitive area of his—when you mention it, he still feels a few stings. Not of pain, just of … a strange, cynical familiarity of all things awful. The bubbling of putrid Lazarus water flooding his ears, the tension of long cold nerves and muscles stirring to life.

“It hurts a little bit,” he admits, resuming his hand motions along your back. “But it’s not too bad.”

“And your arm?” You quickly scrabble to question, realizing you never clarified. “Your arm, I mean.”

“Hurts a little, but less than it did before… It’s not too bad though,” he adds, his voice coming out as calm as he can manage. “I’m okay, I promise.”

He looks down at your hand, feeling your touch never stop along such a brutal mark. Now it begins to concern him over just how much you’re concerned.

“Does it bother you, baby?” he whispers, his voice so low that it’s almost a murmur.

“It always bothers me when you get shot—“

“Not that,” Jason interrupts, gesturing with the slightest tilt of his head. “That.”

“Oh.” Your fingertip stops just before the scar’s end, feeling his abdomen muscles grow a bit taunt. You ponder this for quite a while, trying to never let your mind settle on such thoughts every time you saw Jason without a shirt.

“Well, it’s not like I was alive when they did it-“

“Jason,” you scoff, meeting his amused expression with your narrowed eyes. He just couldn’t help himself, could he? After such mind blowing sex, as per usual, you both should be either sleeping off well deserved exhaustion, or debating what flavor ice cream and genre movie to watch, while the post sex endorphins still flooded your brains.

“Shh,” he hushes against your crown, kissing along your hairline. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m alright. You know that.”

“I know. Can’t imagine how much this would’ve hurt.” You sigh, settling your palm directly over his heart, fingers sprawled across his chest. There’s no use to think on it, really. He’s alive, he’s here. That’s all that mattered.

“Felt worse.” Jason murmurs to himself, peeking down at your flushed cheeks and glimmering, adorable eyes holding so much worry for him. “Y’know what hurts worse than getting shot?”

“What?”

“Those hands of yours, sweetheart,” Jason smirks, patting the outside of your shoulder. “Could cut glass with those diamonds you call acrylics. Maybe those claws should dig a little harder next time, add onto the collection.”

“Oh please,” you scoff, nearly rolling your eyes while maintaining your smile. “You’d probably do something stupid like getting them tattooed onto your back.”

Jason didn’t answer, but his smirk said it all. Probably get your scratches permanently tattooed?

“Jason, no.”

His smile grows a lot more to your absolute disbelief.

“No! You’re not!”

“It’s not a bad idea, babe—“

“Well, I said no!”