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sserpente · 8 months

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The Sunwalker's Gift

Synopsis: Legends say those who were cursed to live in the shadows are not lost. There is a ring, a ring of incredible power that allows its vampiric wearer to walk in the sun once more. If there is one thing you know, it is that Astarion—your partner, your lover—deserves to own this ring more than anyone. You put yourself in great danger to acquire it for him without his knowledge but in the end, you succeed. So now, what magical piece of jewellery would be more suitable to propose to the vampire spawn you want to spend the rest of your life with than this one?

A/N: Who’s the goose that’s on the loose…

Words: 1694 Warnings: so much fluff, mentions of smut, SPOILERS FOR ACT 3

Blood, tears, sweat, another suicide mission. The rusty ring in your hand almost appeared as if it hadn’t been worth it to risk your neck and sanity for it but appearances were deceptive. This unassuming piece of jewellery in your hand held the answer to Astarion’s prayers. The very object that had made this long and exhausting search so rewarding in the end.

He didn’t know about it yet. He had no idea you’d had a lead with this legendary object at all. And after months of relentless and disappointing searches, Astarion had all but decided the ring was just another myth created to mock him in his misery… to the very point you had begun to doubt your decision to stop him from finishing Cazador’s work and letting him ascend.

You took a deep breath, shaking your head to chase the thought away. No. Walking in the sun was not worth spoiling his mind, his very soul—regardless of the fact you would have never left his side. You’d decided that the night he had confessed his feelings for you. This man was to be yours, forever.

Now you’d give this ring a little bit of polishing, and a bath in vinegar and soap and then you were certain it would look as good as new. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face, to see the first moment he slid it on his finger and stepped back into the daylight without tadpoles and sacrificed souls. Nervousness washed over you when you pictured your plan in your head but there was no doubt—only excitement and impatience.

Today would change his life for the better. Perhaps one day, if he so wished, you would even find a way to cure his vampirism altogether but for now, you wanted him to have this gift.

Your shared bedroom was empty, the sheets unmade and the smell of sex still lingering in the air. You were still getting used to the nocturnal lifestyle, of course. Staying up with him all night and sleeping during the day was messing with your inner body clock but it was a small price to pay to be with him.

The wooden door leading out to the balcony was open, the barest hint of light pouring through the gap. You approached it on bare feet, the hinges creaking when you pushed the door open further.

“There you are,” he mused without turning around. Astarion was leaning against the metal railing of the balcony, staring into the darkness. A few torches here and there lit the still-sleeping city as the sun began to crawl up from behind the hills, the chirping birds urging it on to start the morning. He truly was a sight to behold—shirtless and pale, even with the everlasting scars Cazador had inflicted on his back, you were overcome with the urge to drag him back to bed and have your way with him in an instant. You did that a lot these days—giving him pleasure upon pleasure without asking for anything in return. Astarion had learned in a rather rewarding way what your mouth and tongue could do for him. Teaching him to be intimate with you in a both consensual and sensual way was a task you were happy to pursue.

You hummed in response, walking up to him to sling your arms around his middle from behind, the ring hidden in the pocket of your morning robe. You pressed the side of your face against his back, his cold skin cooling your heated cheek.

He had been doing this a lot lately. Dragging out the final moments of the night, catching a glimpse of the sun and Baldur’s Gate below him before retreating to the shadows again to ensure his own survival. No more. You sighed.

“What is it, darling?”

“Nothing… I just… love you.”

Astarion chuckled—a barely audible sound coating your heart like sweet honey. At last, he turned around to face, your arms still wrapped around him. You had to look up to meet those crimson-red eyes and the gentle smile tugging on his lips.

“I love you too.”

“I don’t ever want to be apart from you again, my love.”

“Nor I from you,” he purred. His smile was gentle, genuine. You’d fought hard to make him drop that wall of feigned confidence and reveal the real feelings lying underneath. Now, you couldn’t get enough of it. “Let’s head back inside. I’m starting to feel… warm.”

“Just a moment, please.”

The vampire spawn raised his eyebrows but waited nonetheless.

“You said forever,” you went on, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Yes?” He dragged the word out and smirked, reciprocating your hug now; his palms resting against your waist. His closeness calmed your nerves, encouraging you without him knowing.

“I… I want forever to start now. I want us to belong to each other and I want everyone to know.”

“Oh my… you’re feeling quite poetic today, my sweet. I don’t object.”

The first sunbeams hit the stone floor of the balcony upon his playful teasing and you could tell that he was getting nervous, eager to flee to the bedroom to avoid the angry burns he expected any moment now.

With a deep breath, you freed yourself from his embrace and took a step back to get down on one knee. It was then you saw the surprise dominating his beautiful face, his lips parting. Determined, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the shiny ring, holding it out to him.

“Astarion Ancunín… will you make me the happiest woman of Faerûn and marry me?”

It took him a heartbeat to remember how to draw oxygen himself, it seemed. He muttered your name under his breath, red eyes fixed on the plain but powerful ring in your hands. He didn’t recognise it, of course, didn’t expect it to be what it was. He had no reason to believe that this unimpressive piece of jewellery was about to return something to him which should have never been taken in the first place.

“Marry you?” he repeated, almost unbelieving. “I… I do, love. I want… yes.”

Yes. You smiled, the weight of uncertainty falling from your shoulders at once. You took his hand in his, sliding the ring on his finger and rose to your feet again, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him.

Astarion melted into your affectionate treatment without hesitation, yet you could tell he was holding back. Uneasy, he pulled away.

“Darling, as much as I would like to savour this moment, could we celebrate our engagement inside?” He glanced at the sun rising higher and higher. Any second now the balcony would be fully submerged in its warm light.

Instead of responding to his plea, however, you only smiled at him. You were certain this would work—you had seen the ring in action after all, made sure it was safe before you took it to your love. You had met up with Dalyria, one of Astarion’s spawn siblings, in secret, only two days ago for this exact reason and she had volunteered to try the effects of the ring—saying it was the least she could do in return after Astarion had freed them.

“I need to get inside!” You reached for his hands when he panicked, holding him in place. Only seconds later, you were both drowned in the soft morning sunlight.

Astarion squeezed his eyes shut and flinched, expecting the burn and the pain the day brought him—but nothing happened. He remained standing, the sunbeams warming his skin.

“What… what is… how is this possible?” he breathed out.

“The Sunwalker’s Gift. It’s the ring, Astarion.”

His red eyes widened, disbelief swinging in his smooth voice as he looked down on his ring-clad finger to admire the shining piece of jewellery reflecting the sunlight. “But… but how? How did you get it?”

“The mage we found and spoke to contacted me a few weeks back. He put me in touch with a bard who meddled with vampires before—two of which, after a couple of pints, revealed that the ring was every vampire’s secret dream and rumoured to have been buried with a deceased vampire lord in the lands north of Rivington a couple of centuries ago. After that, the mage and I returned to do more research and discovered where his tomb is located.”

“And you went to this tomb… alone? Have you lost your mind? Gods, anything could have happened to you!” He was trying his best to be upset, truly. You had to hold back a giggle when his voice went a little high-pitched. It was flattering knowing that the only person this gorgeous man had ever truly shown honest concern for was you.

“I wasn’t alone, I promise. I had help. Halsin and Gale accompanied me.”

“Halsin I can understand. But… Gale?” He pretended to gag, eliciting another childish giggle from you. But then, his tone became more serious once again.

“You did this for me… I…” The very hint of an embarrassed laugh clung to his words. “I’m not sure I even deserve you.”

“You do. I love you. And you’re stuck with me now. You just agreed to be my husband, remember?”

“How could I?” Astarion muttered your name again. There was admiration and affection as it left his lips like a prayer. You had no doubt that part of him was still processing what this engagement ring really meant. It was too early still for joyous screams and running across the flower fields hand in hand. “Thank you. This is… I did not dare dream of this and yet you continue to surprise me. I just… thank you, my love.”

You nodded. “I told you all I want is for you to be happy. I would have turned every single rock in Faerûn to find this ring for you. Now come on. We have a long day ahead of us and a wedding to plan.”

Astarion smirked, his red eyes sparkling with joy, relief and affection. “Darling… there is nothing I’d like more.”

A/N: I am so crazy for him this is abnormal even for me. I'LL BE GETTING A GROUP PHOTO WITH THE WHOLE MAIN CAST AT MCM, I'M SO HYPED!

#astarion #astarion imagine #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #astarion x tav #the sunwalker's gift #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 imagine #bg3 #bg3 imagine #astarion ancunin #astarion ancunin imagine #astarion ancunin x you #astarion ancuncin x reader

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lovebotomy · 5 days

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merthur hater except for the scene when merlin extinguishes all torches in the courtyard so he can climb the castle wall into arthur's room to cure him like some prince charming variant

#there were so insane for that scene like #narratively.. WHAT THE FUCK #every few weeks I remember it and go insane #merthur #bbc merlin

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thisblogisaboutabook · 3 months

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Bad Idea, Right? - Part 6

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s Daughter

Eris and Y/N seem to have a knack for putting themselves in unsavory situations. Bonus: Eris has a flashback to the night they met.

Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

Warnings: Alcohol, Language, Attempted SA

Oh gods. I rolled over slowly only to be met with a wave of nausea and a killer headache. I blinked several times, enough to bring the bedside table into view where a glass of water and a hangover tonic awaited me - at least I had the foresight to brace myself for the impending hell that awaited me after such an intoxicating night out.

It was an effort to pull my arm out from beneath the covers of my bed - which felt so much softer and warmer than usual. I drank a few sips of water and the tonic quickly cured the unease in my stomach but the remnants of the headache still remained. My impetuous little shadows tugged at me to get out of bed but it was just so comfortable - tuning them out I yanked my comforter over my head and drifted back asleep.

——————

Eris

Eris started awake as Y/N roused slightly from her sleep, just enough to find the tonic he’d left on his bedside table for her. Several hours ago, he’d settled in a lounge chair on the opposite side of the bed after she’d spent an hour with her head in the commode, alternating between heaving and berating him for being a “shady motherfucker” all while he held her silken hair back and rubbed soothing circles on her back.

Once she’d completely emptied herself of both the contents of her stomach and insults, she insisted she needed to bathe herself - managing to stumble into the bath tub with her clothes still on and demand “something fried and something bubbly, good sir.”

She refused to undress so he could fill the tub, so he left her there to her own devices while he torched some breaded chicken tenderloins in the kitchen - his fire power really came in handy in times like this - where a five foot whatever heathen was demanding sustenance ASAP. “High Lord my ass.” He mumbled to himself as he carried a tray of seltzer water and her fried chicken into the bathroom… where she was sound asleep in the tub.

Good lord, what had he gotten himself into with this beautiful mess. The mother only knew.

So he’d carried her to the bed, feeling a bit sleazy for changing her out of her dress while asleep but it was either let her rest in a liquor and vomit splattered dress that did everything for her curves and absolutely nothing for comfort… or change her out of it and into one of his cotton tees. Perhaps his male ego beamed slightly at the thought of her sleeping in his shirt but he assured himself that her comfort was his top priority.

He warmed the sheets using his fire magic and tucked her in before setting out the tonic and settling in on the lounge.

————————-

Y/N

When I reawoke, it must have been hours later. Whoever came in and opened the curtains could go to hell as the sunlight filtering in assaulted my eyes.

“Mother’s tits.” I groaned out as I stretched, careful not to turn my head too quickly in an effort of staving any sudden returns of nausea or shooting pains from the headache.

As my eyes slowly began adjusting to the damned sunlight, three things stood out. One: my shadows were swirling in front of me and intertwining with my fingers excitedly. Two: Someone was….cooking? In my bedroom. And as my vision fully cleared, three: This wasn’t my room, it was a fucking studio apartment.

“Owww.” I whined as I turned my head toward the direction of whatever greasy delight was cooking only to see red hair pulled up into a bun, a glorious muscular bare back hindered only by the tie of an apron, and delicious toned legs exposed by cloth shorts hemmed at the mid-thigh.

Mother’s tits indeed. Just when I thought the bastard couldn’t get any hotter.

An opportunist, traitor of a shadow shot away from me, caressing his arm as it handled a pan on the stove.

“Morning sunshine.” Eris purred, not even turning to look at me.

I scrunched my nose, lowering my tone into that of disgust - a futile effort to appear unphased by the sight before me “Why are you here? And where the fuck are we?”

“Always a pleasure to see you too, little one. Breakfast first?”

I desperately wanted to object but the bacon he was cooking smelled delicious and fuck if he didn’t look delicious too.

“Whatever.” I muttered, rolling my eyes at either his ability to tolerate whatever I threw at him or myself for being so internally captivated by the half-naked high lord cooking breakfast for me.

He didn’t need to turn around for me to feel the smirk forming on his lips as he began plating our food.

Breakfast was….. silent. Eris sat in a chair watching me with mischief in his eyes and I did my best to focus on the borderline ecstasy inducing combination of grease and whatever smokey, apple seasoning he’d flavored the bacon with.

After a long ‘bout of silence I finally gave in to his game. “Alright Eris,” His name rolled off my tongue like more honey and less venom than intended. “I’ll bite. Where are we anyway? And how?”

“I told you last night, little love. We’re at my apartment.”

Hazy memories rolled back just a bit. A blur of red, a steadying arm, and-

“In Velaris?”

“Is it so shocking that I invest my funds into properties. How many palacial homes do Rhysand and Feyre have now? More than three, yes?”

I crossed my arms. A bit like a petulant child, yes, but it did the trick as it shelved my breasts perfectly enough that Eris was caught off guard. Good.

I leaned forward, the gap in the neck of my - his shirt allowing a glimpse of the unclothed breasts beneath.

“Quit deflecting.” biting my lip, I leaned in a bit closer tracing a finger along his jaw, over the stubble shadowing the sharp angles of it, my palm then meeting his cheek just lightly enough to make his eyelids flutter as he leaned into it.

A fresh wave of the hangover nausea churned through my stomach causing me to tense, slightly drawing back and breaking the trance I had him in.

Eris tsk’d “Uh uh, clever girl.” His eyes darkened as that stupid, perfect sly smirk of his crossed over his features. “You won’t seduce answers from me, though I do love to see you try.” Letting out a sigh that I could have sworn was a bit condescending he continued, “Had you not ghosted me following our delightful night after Starfall, you’d have known.”

“Perhaps Eris, had you not kept information from me and threatened MY High Lord with violence over whatever you’re keeping from me then I would not have resorted to such measures.”

Eris leaned back in his chair, one leg arrogantly crossed over the other as one elbow rested on an arm of the chair and the other hand’s thumb and pointer finger rubbed curiously at his jaw.

“And how- pray tell, do you know of such violent threats? Nothing came through my end of the bargain tattoo so I know that Rhysand did not inform you.”

“No. You should be smarter, High Lord, about what you say beyond established wards. You never know what little ears may be prying.”

Realization crossed Eris’s features as he pieced together who had heard him.

“I simply stated that there would be retaliation. Your High Lord would reciprocate similarly if there were facets of my end of the bargain being broken.”

I leaned closer, inches away from Eris’ face.

“You can tell me what information is so important that a bargain is required to withhold it from me - or I can leave now.”

I could have sworn pain crossed his face briefly before he cooly said, “I’d hate to see you go, my little shadow but I always enjoy watching you leave.”

“I’m sure you do.” I stood up, swaying my hips as I walked toward the door, powering through the lingering hangover symptoms.

“Taking my shirt with you?”

“Ah, you’re right. Best to leave the dirty laundry here.”

Facing Eris and making a show of so slowly pulling the shirt up over my head, giving a perfect view of the rise and the bounce of my breasts as I tossed his shirt back to him.

“Your dress is covered in vomit and liquor.” Hand gesturing lazily toward the dress hanging over the bathroom door knob.

“Guess you’ll have to stay a while longer.

And damn my stubbornness because this was not a battle I was about to let him win.

“I’m winnowing home, Eris. Fuck the dress.”

“Wards extend to the street, sweetheart.”

I faltered but only for a moment.

I’ve never been ashamed of my body but strutting naked into the streets of Velaris wasn’t ideal.

Eh - C’est la vie

I grinned. A sharp, wicked thing.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He growled.

Was - was that jealousy? Possessiveness?

And with that, I strutted out of his apartment in only a lace thong.

“Wait!” He called but I didn’t miss a beat.

As I walked into the street, onlookers gawked but I paid no mind. “Y/N! Stop. Come back!” He yelled, grabbing my wrist right as I winnowed to the back door of my home.

“What the fuck was that?” Eris growled, voice low with anger and something else.

I turned to face him as he slung a jacket he’d grabbed on his way out over my shoulders, barely hiding my ass and doing nothing to cover my tits but it’s the thought that counts I suppose.

Had I not still been a bit inebriated from the prior night perhaps I would have remembered I had shadows at my disposal to give at least the illusion of modesty but -

I sobered up quickly as my father stepped out of the door in his leathers - likely headed to meet Uncle Cass before heading to Windhaven - only to be greeted by his mostly naked daughter and half-naked High Lord of the Autumn Court.

Icy rage and total discomfort crossed his features, his shadows shooting out to cover me.

The war of emotions was palpable as he clenched his fists, siphons glowing, eyes shooting daggers straight through Eris.

Eris tensed before dropping his typical arrogant bastard mask into place. “Greetings Spymaster.” An arrogant smirk plastered onto his face.

Father’s jaw clenched and his fists fought a battle of wills as if he’d beat Eris to a pulp right then and there. Finally he managed to ground out, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

——————————-

Eris flashback

The prior night

Y/N let out a rather loud snore in her drunken slumber, stirring him from the sleep he’d just begun drifting off to. Her hair had fallen over her face and he couldn’t resist leaning forward and gently tucking it behind her ear.

“Mm, Eris” she whispered in her sleep followed by the slightest upward twitch of her lips.

Fuck - it was so hard sometimes. He wasn’t a perfect male but he did his best to do right by those he cared about.

Sometimes he had to distance himself from her to prevent himself from laying it all bare - tell her everything instead of letting her believe him to be the “sneaky motherfucker”. She was so young, sure in fae society five years, fifty years, five-hundred years age difference, nobody batted an eye but he’d lived so much life compared to her less than thirty.

Amusement and longing rang through him as he took care of her intoxicated ass tonight, reminding him of the night out that brought them together in the first place.

Lucien and Vassa were busy in the Day Court and Adish was going out with a couple of friends - visiting a new tavern in a recently modernized town in the northeastern territory of the Autumn Court. The town itself was safe but there were still the ocasional ruffians passing through. Lucien had requested that Eris send eyes out to ensure their protection. Something urged him to just go himself and damn, he’d never stop being grateful that he did.

The evening itself was boring. Mostly high fae but even lesser fae who had become adjusted to the “new era” ushered in with his reign came out to the tavern. There were harsh punishments for unjust violence within the Autumn Court now. Still, there was so much change needed but it would come in time. His people were rather set in their ways but a new justice system was starting to usher in change.

He nursed a beer in a corner booth, catching the eyes of plenty of fae nearby but managing to avoid the attention of Adish and his crew - which included Nyx Archeron and the little Shadowsinger who he’d heard was quickly rising in their ranks.

Nyx and Adish had both wandered off with a couple of gorgeous females with the classic red hair of his Court along with interestingly enough, Tamlin’s daughter. Layla - if he recalled correctly.

Interesting.

His attention caught as he noticed two brutes who were definitely not from here vying for the little Shadowsinger’s attention. He chuckled to himself as she waived them off, turning back to a group of females she’d stumbled out of the bathroom with. She danced without a care, holding one hand in the air as her shadows steadied her wrist in an effort to prevent spillage.

He’d give it to Rhysand’s Shadowsinger and the Archeron sister who nearly broke his brother’s heart, they passed down all of their best genetics to the stunning female on the dance floor.

The males continued irritating her, going so far as to cut her off from the group by dancing their way between them. She kept dancing but he could have sworn she was letting them cut her off, despite the obvious malicious intentions the males had for her. As they backed her to a quieter portion of the dance floor the larger male grabbed her wrist, tugging her towards the door. She shook her head no but he kept pulling as the other male corralled her from behind. Eventually she waived off the grip on her wrist and walked out with them.

Fuck. He really had no interest in lighting anybody’s asses up tonight but someone had to get the trash out of his court. And despite the fact that he and Azriel were never the best of friends, his daughter deserved more than to be ignored due to their indifferences.

So he sighed, exited out the front door and strode toward the alleyway the other entrance had led to. As he rounded the corner, he came to a halt, lurking in the shadows and taking in a sight that he hadn’t anticipated.

The Shadowsinger sat unbothered on top of a barrel with an elbow on the knee that crossed over her opposite leg. Her face filled with complete and utter boredom as she rolled her eyes at the males bound in shadow before her.

“You couldn’t have just let me be, huh boys? I was having fun with the girls in there too.

I suppose I should thank you though. After all, you won me my next three rounds of drinks. You see, the girls and I had a bet on how quickly you’d give in to your sleazy nature.

One of them bet two hours, another an hour, and me? I know a pig when I see one. Less than thirty minutes from the first time you hit on me and, well, here we are boys.”

The males couldn’t speak through the gags her shadows had placed on their mouths but the rage was apparent in their squeals.

“Anyway, since you were so desperate to find release tonight, I’ve decided to help… remedy the situation.”

With a snap of the wrist and the exception of their underwear, their clothes disappeared while the shadows binds remained in place.

She gave them each a once over and a disapproving laugh, withdrawing the shadows that were gagging them.

“Alright boys, I’ve so generously removed your gags as a thank you for helping me win my bet. You may kiss eachother now.”

The males gaped. The burlier of the two seemed to lack the understanding of the fact that he was at the disadvantage in this situation. “You little whor-“

“Uh uh.” She wagged her finger. Shadows aiming at him like daggers. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. Not that it seems anyone ever taught you manners. Pity.”

The males were visually appalled. Glancing back and forth between her and eachother as if saying “what now?”

Both males fought the restraints to no avail as the little Shadowsinger grinned with amusement at the predicament she’d put them in.

“Honestly, I should just have my shadows castrate you. Would that be more appealing? You two seemed perfectly inclined to share me, what’s a kiss between friends?”

“Please. Sorry - just let us go.” The smaller of the two pleaded.

“Once you kiss - perhaps I’ll consider. Best do it soon though, I’d hate for the little situations beneath your underwear to be revealed to the patrons of this lovely establishment when my friends come looking for me.”

The males glanced once more at eachother, leaning closely in, still hesitating but resigning themselves to their fate.

When their lips were mere centimeters apart, she held up a hand. “Ah- just a moment, boys. We have company.”

Eris started at the comment. Looking down he found a shadow winding around his ankle - was he imagining things or was it almost playful?

“High Lord.” She mused. “How do you dispose of the trash in your court?”

Mask in place, he casually stepped out of the shadows with his hands in his pockets and a devilish grin on his face.

Her gaze fixed on him. Her beauty even more striking up close, and her scent - utterly mouth watering. And when his eyes met hers

Snap.

He knew then and there that he was wholehearted and irrevocably hers for the rest of his days.

He’d wait another 500 for it to snap for her too if he had to.

She was his mate. His.

————————-

A/N: Sorry (kind of) for always leaving you all on chaotic little cliffhangers. I hope the flashback made up for the torture at least a little bit!! 😏

Tags: @b0xerdancer @myheartfollower @ang-taylorsversion @acotarobsessed @uniquecolorwizard @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thelov3lybookworm @starryhiraeth @5moremin

#sarah j maas #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel shadowsinger #azriel daughter #eris vanserra #eris x reader #nyx archeron #bad idea right #acotar x olivia rodrigo #inspired by olivia rodrigo #eris x oc

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odditycircus-2002 · 6 months

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Mortal Kombat 1 Intros with Medusa!Reader

Spoilers for Story mode: Proceed with caution

Yourself (Mirror Match)

Y/N: How could you possibly willingly marry that snake?!?

Y/N 2: My dear snake gave me the fruits of knowledge you could never imagine. /

Y/N 1: Ugh, let me guess, you’re also married to Shang Tsung? Y/N 2: No, I am happily married to Syzoth. /

Y/N 2: Such a disappointment looking at my carbon copy. Y/N 1: It isss more disappointing that you are as insanely depraved as you are!

Y/N 2: Have you considered the benefits of Kytinn royal jelly for your cure?

Y/N 1: Ha! As I- Mmmhhh, You may be on to something. /

Y/N 1: I thought Lord Lui Kang turned you to dust! Y/N 2: Do you really think my husband and I would not have any contingencies? /

Y/N 1: You made Empress Sindel do WHAT? Y/N 2 gives a malicious chuckle: Pulling her strings was some of the most fun I had in a long time.

Y/N 1: You have some rather questionable taste in bedfellows.

Y/N 2: At least I can hold mine without fear of being stabbed instantly.

/ Shang Tsung

Shang Tsung: Across all timelines, we were meant to be.

Y/N: Never in this one or the next will I ever belong to you!

Shang Tsung: You have to understand what you saw in my lab is what true progress looks like.

Y/N: To think, I ever marveled at watching you work with your magic.

Shang Tsung: I know you would love the rare flora that can be found on my island-

Y/N: I rather see a carnivorous plant digest you slowly.

Y/N: I regret not ending you when I had the chance.

Shang Tsung: Don’t blame yourself too much, my sweet. I know you still hold a torch for me.

Y/N: You will NOT lay a hand on Baraka!

Shang Tsung: I will not let a filthy beast get in between us!

Y/N angrily: Every day, I wake up to find a stranger in the mirror.

Shang Tsung softly: And yet, you're the same clever woman as always.

Shang Tsung angrily: It wasn't enough to steal my birthright, but you also had to take away my soul mate?

Lui Kang: I did nothing of the sort, YOU drove her away.

Baraka

Y/N coquettishly: Do not go easy on me, Baraka.

Baraka: I know how you like it rough.

Y/N: So we are in agreement?

Baraka: Only IF you win, I'll stomach any greens you want me to eat for the next 3 moons.

Y/N: Sometimes, I wish we could-

Baraka: So do I, Y/N

Y/N: I heard from Ashrah that you asked her to end your life if you were to lose your mind.

Baraka: I did not want to burden your soul by having you take my life.

Baraka: How close are you to finding a cure?

Y/N: As much as I loathed to admit it, Shang Tsung's research has put me even closer to finding a permanent one.

Baraka: If you want to enter the Kytinn Hive, you’ll need to fight harder than ever before.

Y/N: I know I can trust you to watch my back, my friend.

Baraka: Stay away from Y/N, Sorcerer!

Shang Tsung: You cannot stop destiny, savage!

Syzoth

Y/N: I have so much to thank you for, Syzoth.

Syzoth: It's the least I can do for all I've been complicit in.

Syzoth: Does your skin still burn, Y/N?

Y/N: Not really, but my skin has been itching and flaking like mad.

Y/N: If I had known what Shang was doing to you, Syzoth-

Syzoth: Then you probably would been given a worse fate.

Syzoth: Zikandar barely survived the Kytinn's attack, and you want to follow them to their hive???

Y/N: If my theory about Kytinn royal jelly is correct, I could finally cure Tarkat!

Y/N gives a smug grin: Think you can slip out of my constricting hold?

Syzoth grins in return: If I can slip past Shao's forces, I'll have no trouble doing the same with you.

Syzoth teasingly: I believe you and Baraka would make a tremendous mated pair.

Y/N: Th-th-that'sss very kind of you to say, Syzoth.

Syzoth: I know what you did to her wasn't an accident.

Shang Tsung: I am not as heartless as to do that to my precious flower.

Mileena

Mileena: Why did you not tell me or Mother sooner about what happened?

Y/N: By then, your mother would not hear anything I had to say.

Mileena: Don't you regret being unable to save Mother?!

Y/N: My regret haunts me no matter the hour.

Mileena with desperate hope: Are you really close to a cure???

Y/N: I'm close to a breakthrough, but I will need a legion of soldiers to collect the most important ingredient.

Y/N: You did not happen to skip your required meditative exercises to sparr with Tanya again, did you?

Mileena: And what if I did? Skipping one session won't kill me.

Y/N: If I had found a way to treat your symptoms sooner, your mother would never have welcomed Shang Tsung into her court.

Mileena: One way or another, that Snake would have found some way to slither into the court.

Y/N: For what you did for the Tarkatans, you are already proving to be a fine Empress.

Mileena: It warms my heart to hear such praise from you.

Y/N: We are both trapped in bodies not our own.

Mileena: I pray to the gods that we may one day find a cure for you as well.

Shao

Shao: I almost regret not inviting you to join my cause.

Y/N: Your father should have let you die as a child!

Y/N: Your so-called "Patriotism" is nothing but a ruse to hide your lust for power.

Shao: And here I thought you were clever as your reputation says.

Y/N: I was tempted to leave you to die of your wounds, countless times.

Shao: Hah! For a Healer you are rather callous.

Y/N: I have to say, Reiko makes a far better statue than he ever did as a soldier.

Shao: Reverse your curse, witch!

Y/N: In hindsight, it is not so ssssurprising that your pride would have you betray the Empire.

Shao: I fight against the Royal Family for the sake of Outworld!

Shao: What in the Netherrealm did you do to my troops?!?

Y/N: I simply had the wildlife you hunt around your camp eat some special shrooms.

Shao: What do you truly know of War, Little Healer?

Y/N: Enough to know every possible way the mightiest can break.

Sindel

Y/N: I cannot fathom you as some vile harpy.

Sindel: Nor I with you as a heartless mad woman.

Y/N: I have deeply missed your hanging gardens.

Sindel: Perhaps later we may visit them together for old times sake.

Y/N: I am happy to report that Mileena is improving in mind and spirit

Sindel: I hope the same could be said for her body.

Sindel hurt: Why did you not come to me after what Shang Tsung did to you?

Y/N: I feared you would turn me away like you did with Lei Mei once you saw my visage.

Sindel: Care to explain the statue that strongly resembles Reiko in the middle of my garden?

Y/N: He had it coming to him.

Sindel: I am sorry, Y/N, the answer is still no. As Empress, I can not risk catching Tarkat.

Y/N hissing: If you only ssssaw what disgraceful conditions you forced the afflicted to live with!

Sindel: I am happy you found joy as I did with Jerrod, even with his disease.

Y/N surprised: What has Mileena been telling you now?

Johnny Cage

Johnny: Seriously, what did you see in Shang Tsung?!?

Y/N, with an exasperated sigh: Only what he wanted me to see.

Johnny: You will NOT believe how much my fans ship you and Baraka.

Y/N: Ship? Do they plan on building a boat for us?

Johnny: I totally have a chance with Katana... Don't I?

Y/N: *Hisses in amusement before responding* Ahhh, you are amusing Earthrealmer but no.

Y/N: Dammit Earthrealmer! I'm a healer, not an actress!

Johnny: But you already have the part down to a T!

Y/N: I too am something of a jokester.

Johnny: Ehhh no offense beautiful, but I'm not one for your brand of dark comedy.

Y/N: Why would you show me such a film???

Johnny: I swear, I forgot that's what happened to Medusa in that scene!

Baraka: Care to explain why Y/N seemed so frightened when she returned from your abode?

Johnny: Wait, wait, wait! I can explain!

Ashrah

Y/N almost smugly: So I resemble a demon?

Ashrah: That’s not exactly a good thing, Y/N.

Y/N: Baraka asked you to do what now?!

Ashrah: I pray you can find a cure for his condition before it comes down to that.

Y/N bashfully: Wh-what has Syzoth been telling you?

Ashrah: So are you and Baraka not a couple?

Y/N: I will gladly help you put down Quan-chi, as long as you do the same with Shang Tsung.

Ashrah: Together, we will put a permanent stop to both our tormentors.

Ashrah: My kris appears rather split with you.

Y/N: Considering some of things I’ve done, that doesn’t surprise me.

Ashrah: I am grateful you support Syzoth and I.

Y/N in a happy tone: Just be aware that if you hurt him any way, you’ll be begging for death. /

Ashrah: For a healer, you’re rather…

Y/N: Violent? That's always just been me.

A/N: Don't forget to like, reblog, and comment as I love hearing from y'all! Stay weird, my fellow humans.

358 notes · View notes

msbarrybeeson · 2 months

Text

Before You Go - P.6 | Future Donatello & April O’Neil Insight

(Reader Included)

A/N: Any constructive criticism is appreciated. Reader comments and feedback are also welcomed a lot.

I have been gone for a long time. Just occupied with my studies! No fan fiction author curse or anything (yet).

Summary: You’re both adopting-parents of Casey. The story follows the perspective of Donatello and April O’Neil during the Kraang apocalypse. You and Leonardo decided to ask them to watch over thirteen-year-old Casey.

In other words, familial interactions between April, Donnie, and Casey Jr.

Reader: Gender-neutral pronouns are used, except the terms “(Mom / Dad)” are also used. Second POV.

Pairing: Rise! Future! Leonardo X Reader

Warnings: Bittersweet.

Word Count: ~3490

Parts: One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / ...

Donnie knew how much of a genius he was.

It was no surprise after all. In his late teens, he improved NASA’s satellites to communicate with planets light centuries away. He cured breast cancer through the use of protons in radiation therapy to target specific cells, rather than affecting the harmless. Hell, he even managed to discover a new type of radioactive particles: mutons. By that point, he—.

“—should have been given a Nobel Prize in Medicine and in Chemistry.” Donnie cursed under his breath. He strolled over to his lab bench, equipping his goggles.

Squeeeak.

April– who was found seated on Donnie’s roughed-up, spinning gaming chair– raised an eyebrow. Her hair had grown out and was left unbounded. Faint wrinkles and eye bags on her features displayed maturity, in contrast to a couple of years ago. However, everyone was well aware that time was not the only factor.

“Whatcha going on about now, Donnie?”

The softshell huffed. “Recall when I wrote a report about my experimental findings with an invention meant to revive a deceased human being?”

“...You mean the one where you thought it was a good idea to open up Curie’s tomb? Even gone as far as to ask for my help?” April grimaced. “Who’d ever forget that.”

She proceeded to massage her temples.

“God. You were in all kinds of messed up for that, Don.”

Lightning-like yellow sparks flickered as Donnie had his robotic hands occupied with a butane torch. His goggles were sealed tight around his eyes as he built a oval-looking device on his lab bench. Titanium outer-layer over a seriously complex circuit-board; appearing as if Samsung marketed grenades.

He scoffed. “Oh please. It wasn’t as if I’d taken long to understand how Marie Curie deserves her rest for her great contributions to radiation. Thus is why–.”

“–You decided to take a poor random husband of an old wife,” April interjected.

“Ahem.” Donnie pronounced. “The poor woman was begging me for her husband to be alive again. I was simply gracious and generous enough to not charge her for the process.” He set aside the butane torch. “At least it progressed well; he stayed alive for an additional two years. It gave his wife psychological comfort, and I was able to submit my paper to the N.S.F..”

He picked up a screwdriver. “Except....”

April could tell her friend’s eye was twitching.

“They rejected my findings, nearly had me detained, and claimed it was far too ‘unethical.’” Donnie raised his volume. “Scoff! As if those researchers weren’t committing the crime themselves! Taking bodies away from families and claiming them as scientific property without permission.

If I could go back in time and shove my documents in their jaws, you bet I would.”

April smirked. “Well, I have my regrets too, Donnie.”

“You sound rather amused, April. Is that so surprising? And here I never thought you would regret your part-time job at Albearto’s. Or the fact you wasted money to switch to journalism in university.”

WHACK!

April threw her bat at Donnie’s head, flying back to her hand like a boomerang.

“Watch your mouth, mister. I may have regretted Albearto’s, but not a single moment in my life did I ever regret my journalism passion.” She stood up.

“Ouch.” The softshell vocalized, squinting his eyes toward her. His robotic clampers paused, setting aside the torch and taking off his goggles.

“Mind yourself, April. Horse-playing is forbidden in the laboratory. I am not consenting to having yet another silver-titanium apparatus get scratched because of you.” Donnie gritted his teeth. “Can you hear the negative connotation?”

“Seriously, Donnie? Where’d that come from? Not only was that years ago but it ain’t anything except a simple accident.”

“‘Simple accident?’” the softshell repeated with dramatic offense. “An accident, like many others in science labs, which could have caused severe damage! Remember the incident when your teacher dumped bleach and vinegar into the trash bin?

You know, if you had paid any attention in your chemistry class, those two would make mustard gas?” Donnie side-eyed his friend. “Simple accidents can have serious consequences, O’Neil.”

A hand crept up the lab bench.

“Uh-huh, and I’m supposed to believe an instance of me knocking over your phone and books would kill somebody?” April crossed her arms. “If anything, the blame’s yours for not organizing your desk when you got drunk on coffee.”

The hand took ahold of the butane torch.

“Donatello? Disorganized? Sounds cheap coming from you, a student majoring in Journalism.”

April pulled up her coat’s sleeves. “Oh boy, you’re about to get it—.”

Squeeeak!

Heads spun and found a 13-year old boy, replacing April’s spot on Donnie’s chair. Casey eyed the torch with a great yet concerning amount of curiosity.

“Yo, what’s this for, Uncle Don?”

At lightning speed, while April ran to move the gaming chair away further from the workbench, Donnie snatched the tool from his hands. “Child. Casey. Young man.” The softshell heaved loudly. “I must inform you this is NOT meant to be handled with such casual ease. How in Hawking did you even—.”

“Don’t your lab have a passcode or something?”

“–Is what I am wondering myself, O’Neil. I refuse to believe this child remembers the beginning thirty numbers of π–.”

“Nope, only us.” April and Donnie lifted their gazes to his lab entrance. You leaned on the frame while a dear red-eared slider stood just behind. A couple of steps inside, and the metallic lab door shut close.

Donnie– strangely– was quick to hide his device-in-progress off to the side.

“You’re back!” April grinned. “Hell, you would not believe the convo Donnie and I were having a minute ago.” She hurried to hug you.

“Figures,” Leo remarked. “We could practically hear you yards off.”

“Sounds like things never get old.” You smiled.

There was a side-eye between Donnie and April, before the Commander proceeded to inquire, coughing: “Anyhow.. care to explain the occasion? You two don’t seem to be in a hurry.”

“The only times you ever visit my laboratory are to prepare for immediate combat engagement, and you look awfully collected.” The softshell furrowed his brows.

“No, no.” You waved your hands, shaking your head. “Thank God no. We came here to ask if you two could take care of our Casey here while we head out.” The other turtle scrunched his in-quote eyebrows. “You— You came here to request us to... babysit him?”

April jabbed him in his plastron.

“You see? Just like I said.” Leo turned to you. “I know my brother, love. Don’s not the kind of guy to take responsibility for a kid. Or anyone, really.”

“Hold on.” Donnie narrowed his eyes. “I never said I refused, Leo.”

“Don’t know, it sounds like it to me.”

“Well, my misinformed brother, contrary to your belief, I am perfectly capable of handling a child.”

You huffed with amusement. Your husband only winked back.

“If you say so, Don.”

“Where are you two heading off for if you needed us to watch over him?” April inquired. “Wondering, ‘cause this never happened even when you two leave for patrol.”

“Just finding some time for ourselves.”

April exclaimed, “As in a honeymoon? Why not just say so? We’ll leave you two alone–.”

“–In this economy and climate?” Donnie interjected. “Has it also not been six years since your yet-to-be-legal marriage?”

“Alright, alright,” Leonardo chuckled. “Cut us some slack, bro. Finding time wasn’t easy when there’s Kraang above our necks.”

“Right, and you’re going on a honeymoon, how?” The softshell crossed his arms. “Simply because you’re the leader does not equate to you making wise decisions, Leo.”

“His ōdachi can teleport anyone to anyplace, we have some hope we can easily teleport to a remote area,” you answered. “One without Kraang infestation. It’ll be hard, but we may as well try.”

“Bonus points if we find clear skies and an ocean.” The red-eared turtle grinned, wrapping his arm over your shoulders.

“What’s a honeymoon, (Mom / Dad)?”

Your hand went to caress Casey’s cheek. “Parent quality time. It just means you get to handle yourself like the responsible grown-up you’ll become one day. Just promise me you’ll be on your best behavior around Uncle Don and Auntie April?”

“I promise, (Mom / Dad)!”

“Good boy,” Leo laughed, ruffling the kid’s hair.

“You didn’t ask Mikey and Raph to help out too, or?”

“Between you and me, I think you guys are better of making sure Casey doesn’t get into any chaos,” you whispered to April. “Don’t tell them that, though.”

She laughed. “Okay, I see how it is. You both have fun.”

Donnie bit his lip. Right as Leonardo and (Name) turn to exit the laboratory, he extended his arm out to them.

“Leo, (Name).”

You two faced back to him once more.

“Don’t kill yourselves out there.”

Everyone’s eyes widened– April, you, and Leonardo himself. But the brother in blue snickered, holding a smile that reached his eyes. “So you do also care for me, Don. And all this time I thought you were plotting to put me in my grave or something.”

“We won’t.” Leo placed a hand on your shoulder. “You got my word.”

“Bye (Mom / Dad)! Bye Papa!”

“We’ll be back soon, Casey!”

Donnie stood in silence as you finally left, leaving himself with none other than his best friend and his nephew. “I refuse to believe this is the future we have to deal with.”

“Times changed all of us, didn’t they?” April spoke. “One day we wish each other a good one, and the next, we hope we just don’t die. I could’ve been a famous news anchor by now, make my mother happy, fight crime without worrying about dying the next second.

..I wonder if there’s anyone else out there besides the small number of us down here.”

“..I doubt it.”

Donnie pulled himself together and walked back to his workbench, operating his clampers to work once again. He put on his goggles. Casey, being a young teenager of enthusiasm, peeked over.

“Watch yourself, boy,” April warned.

“Don’t worry about me, Auntie. I’m only standing over here.” Casey narrowed his eyes upon the glowing and metal-like ball his uncle had his tools on. “What are you working on, Uncle Don?”

“A sphere.”

“A sphere?”

“You heard correctly.”

“That sounds kind of boring.”

Donnie had to hold himself back from remarking with: ‘That is exactly what every child whose intellect is doomed would say.’

“I’m sure your mother would find it rather moving.”

“(Mom / Dad)? I don’t understand what’s emotional about a ball, though.”

“Hey Casey.” April coughed. “Why not tell us about your mask here? Haven’t taken a good look at it before. Maybe Uncle Don would like to hear it too.”

“You actually want me to talk about my mask?”

“Ain’t a problem, is it?”

“No.” He fidgeted with his fingers a bit. “You don’t have anything else to do?”

“We were just told to watch over you, kid.”

“Yeah, but everyone I know is always busy with the Kraang or supplying weapons. I never really get chances to hang out.”

There was a brief pause in the butane torch’s flame.

April’s expression softened. Her hand came up to brush his black hair. “Things have gotten calmer up there. So you’ve got plenty of time with us now.”

Casey smiled.

“So your mask?”

The boy alternated between covering his face and removing it. “(Mom / Dad) gave it to me. She told me it is based on the one worn by my biological mother. (Mom / Dad) also said that my birth mother was kind of crazy-funny and likes to be loud. She would have a stick to play– what was it– hockey?

I don’t know what kind of game hockey is supposed to be, but I guess it’s nice to know how life was like before all the Kraang.”

A sad smile crept on April’s lips.

“Anyways, I thought the mask looked kind of plain, so I decided to draw red marks on it. See?” Casey showed his mask off, fingers tapping the surface. “Guess who it looks like!”

There were two bold and thick streaks of red. Each one ran through one eye, truly a defining characteristic. The Commander chuckled, already imagining how much pride her friend in blue would feel from the fact a kid– let alone one he had been parenting– looked up to him so much.

“You know, I am seeing someone familiar here.” April hummed as she put on a thoughtful facade. Fingers holding her chin and everything. “Got to be Uncle Don.”

Named turtle paused for a moment and raised a brow.

“Seriously, Auntie April?” On the other hand, Casey gave her an incredulous look and shook his head. “You probably want to get your eyes checked out, ‘cause Uncle Don doesn’t have any red stripes.” Off to the side. “And even if he did, he won’t look as cool as Dad.”

April snickered behind her palm as Donnie eyed the boy from behind his goggles.

“You’re right, you’re right. Just messing with you, kid.” Her hand ruffled his hair once more. “Sounds like you really admire your Papa, don’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Dad has an awesome sword that opens up portals. He always moves so quickly whenever he’s fighting. Bam! And the Kraang’s gone!” The teenager stretched his arm for emphasis. “Even as the leader, Papa knows when to get serious and when to make people laugh. He also cares a lot about me, (Mom / Dad), you guys, and everyone!”

It made even Donnie himself smile.

However, the way Casey’s enthusiasm died down had not gone unnoticed. “I’ve always wanted to help out though.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “I want to fight the Kraang right by his and (Mom / Dad)’s side. Except I barely get the chance to, because they keep telling me to stay close to base and hide behind a giant rock.”

April crossed her arms and went quiet. His feelings were nothing new. In fact, she experienced the same thing herself, seeing she had always been a human. It was like that until–.

“Have no hard feelings,” Donnie spoke up, his hands and eyes remained on his spheric gadget. The sparks were flying. “Your parents are merely worried about your well-being.”

“I know, I know. They won’t have to though, if I can have enough training or something.” Casey sighed. “Then again, I also know I’m only a normal sensitive human.

...Why can’t I be a mutant instead?”

“Ahem. You are classified as a human. That is a true statement and one you cannot change.” Donnie hummed. “However, that does not mean you cannot be strong and capable in other ways.”

“Why does it sound like you’ve been in my place before?”

“Perhaps I did. Did you truly think being a soft-shell turtle is easy? I happened to be born as one of the only Testudines species whose outer shell cannot protect.” Donnie remarked. “Casey, your mask.” His hand signaled.

“What about my mask?”

“I merely want to add something.”

Confused, he hopped off the chair and handed the mask over. “Hmm. As long as you don’t mess with the stripes, Uncle Don.”

“Who says I won’t?”

Casey kicked Donnie’s leg.

“‘Ow,’ I say sarcastically without feeling physical pain.”

“Hmph.” He crossed his arms. “Why do you keep saying things like that?”

“Such as?”

“You say those action verbs, even when you’re already doing them.”

April snorted. “Just his thing, kid. Uncle Don’s got his special quirks.”

“Do you have a quirk?”

“Picking unnecessary fights for one,” Donnie commented.

“You only call them ‘unnecessary,’ because you never want to fix the problem.”

He rolled his eyes. “My solution would’ve been ten times more efficient if you had allowed my technology and I to do the work.”

Casey wondered. “Does your tech ever go haywire, Uncle Don?”

“No.”

“Oh man,” April began, “you should’ve been there for this one time. Your Uncle Don was building some kind of overprotective bed to keep your late Gramps from waking up from his beauty sleep.”

“Gramps likes to sleep?”

“You’d be surprised to hear that he sure does.”

“Then what happened?”

“Uncle Don asked your Dad, Uncle Mikey, and Uncle Raph to try punching, slicing, throwing whatever they could on the bed. They were attacking it like crazy!”

“And then?”

“And the bed was even more insane, ‘cause there were actual missiles shooting out! They went straight for his brothers. At some point, it got overboard, so Uncle Don tried to command it to stop.”

“I’m hearing a ‘but’ coming.”

“But it malfunctioned and thought Uncle Don was the enemy!”

“However!” Donnie pointed his finger up, interrupting the story-telling. “It did not take long for my creation to recognize his master.”

“Still went haywire in my book,” April remarked.

“Ignoring that.” His robotic hand tapped the edge of his workbench, grabbing Casey’s attention. “Come here, young man.” He slid back the mask, except in his hands, it felt as if the frame had thicken.

“It looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same?”

“Try wearing it over your face.”

The boy did as told. All of a sudden, a bunch of green rectangles and words appeared in his vision. He gasped in awe. He spun around slowly, watching the rectangle focus on a figure through the wall.

“Yes yes, I know. I am well aware of how amazing I am.” Donnie huffed in pride. “I have opted to construct an interface with your mask. I cannot see why you shouldn’t have something to defend yourself with,” he reasoned. “I have other updates in mind later on. As of now, however, your mask will help you detect life forms across other rooms or through other objects.”

“That’s so cool!” The boy hesitated though. “But I don’t want to break it or anything.”

“Hey.” April rested her hand on Casey’s shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. “Our resources are already scarce. Using then losing them is better than nothing. You better make the most of our tech. Understood, soldier?”

Casey grinned underneath his mask. He fixed his posture up and saluted. “Gotcha–! Understood, Commander!”

He faced the inventor, whose hands were already back to being occupied with the “sphere.” “Thanks so much, Uncle Don!” Casey exclaimed, leaping towards the turtle to give a tight hug. “You’re the best!”

Upon contact, Donnie stiffened up, but his lack of experience with physical touch did not prevent a smile forming on his face. He extended a robotic arm, patting Casey’s back.

The boy then scanned around curiously with his mask. “Hey! Think I spot Uncle Mikey and Uncle Raph two floors down! They’re holding hands over a table or something. Why are so many people circling around them?”

April rolled her eyes. “Sounds like another arm-wrestling match between the our youngest and oldest brother.”

Just like that, Casey booked it out of the laboratory so quickly, it reminded her of a certain red-eared slider. “What the–! Casey!” April groaned. “And here I thought we don’t have to deal with runaway kids. I better catch up to him.”

“Would not worry about him too much,” Donnie commented.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Considering we will not always be alive to protect him... the sooner we leave him to himself, the easier it will be for him to survive alone.”

“Hey. Come on now.” April walked to her best friend’s side. “Don’t you say things like that. We’re all going to survive this together–.”

“April.” Slight pain wavered in his voice. “You know as well as I do how our current reality is. It is only a matter of time before the Kraang finds everyone.”

“Yet you’re still here trying.”

No response.

“It’s all because of the kid, isn’t it?” April affirmed. “He ain’t any genius prodigy you were expecting long ago. But he gave you a reason to try– he became someone worth fighting for.”

“I would not put it as simply as that.”

She shrugged. “That’s how I’d say it. You know you’re not the only one whose life changed because of Casey.”

Donnie paused his work, turning off the butane torch and finally pulling his goggles off his eyes again. “...Casey reminds me of when we were young, being rash and immature teenagers like any other. I hate admitting to such thing, but I was one too. And I hate admitting much more how much I missed those times.

The child has known nothing of the trouble we’ve experienced outside, April: when Cassandra was killed, when Draxum was torn apart, when Dad decided to sacrifice himself despite the slim odds.” His hands clenched into fists.

“Do not expect me to have any false hope for our future, but do not assume I would want Casey to feel the same way. For as long as he can, I want him to hold onto that false hope.”

“...” April had her arms crossed. Her eyes slowly came to linger on the workbench. “Is that ‘sphere’ his false hope?”

“..No. Not his.” Donnie traced his thumb over his contraption. “It’s for (Name).”

#rottmnt donnie #rise donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt april #rise april #rottmnt casey jones #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt movie #rottmnt leo x reader #reader insert #tmnt #rottmnt x reader

57 notes · View notes

rynneer · 1 month

Text

Misty Memories Cold

When you wake in Fíli’s bed with no recollection of anything after a disaster in Mirkwood, he’s ready to risk anything, even his uncle’s wrath, to bring back what you had together.

“I’m not sure I like this idea,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest against the hallway’s chill. The light from mid-morning sunbeams slowly fades to the flickering orange light of torches as you get closer to the core of the mountain.

“The worst he can do is say no,” Tauriel replies coolly. For someone so out of place in the realm of dwarves, she walks with extraordinary confidence, towering over everyone—especially you.

Fíli and Kíli exchange skeptical looks, but remain silent.

You, however, do not. “You don’t know Thorin.”

“That is true,” she hums, “but I know kings.” Tauriel hardly pauses as you approach the large, double doors leading to the war room.

Kíli shoots out an arm to block her from entering. “Us first,” he insists. “He won’t exactly be thrilled to see you.”

The hinges creak in protest as he swings open the heavy door, interrupting Thorin mid-sentence. The king sits at the head of a long table, flanked by two empty seats, normally occupied by his heirs. The rest of the chairs are filled by Balin, Dwalin, and a handful of elves. The guests’ eyes narrow curiously, but when you step into the room, they duck their heads to whisper amongst themselves. Fíli puts an arm around your waist, standing as tall as he can and glowering at them.

“Kíli, you are late,” Thorin scolds. “Fíli, Y/N, I believe I made it clear that you have… other duties today.” He pointedly ignores Tauriel.

“I apologize for the intrusion, Your Highness,” Tauriel says smoothly, her voice all business. “May we speak in private? It is an urgent matter.”

Thorin continues to pretend she’s not there, clearing his throat and gesturing for Kíli to sit. “As I was saying–”

But she will not be ignored. “It is of particular importance to your princess,” she presses.

All heads in the room turn to you. Fíli winces and tightens his arm around you. Even Thorin appears momentarily stunned by her interruption, but he quickly regains his composure and fixes the elf with a glare.

“You are excused,” he hisses. “We–”

“Your Highness–” she tries to interject again.

“Do not interrupt me!” the king snaps. He rises from his seat, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You are an escort, nothing more. You are not welcome at the negotiating table.”

“Thorin, please,” you say softly. You press against Fíli, making yourself as small and vulnerable-looking as possible. The act works—Thorin softens just the tiniest bit.

His nostrils flare as he breathes heavily, glancing back at the elvish delegates. They eye the king with suspicion. “Everyone out,” he says at last. His teeth are clenched so hard you’re surprised they don’t crumble.

“There is tea waiting in the great hall,” Balin offers, a bit more diplomatically. He ushers the delegation from the room and gives you a tiny nod as he passes.

“Sit,” Thorin growls.

You drop into a chair instantly at his command, already wary of his anger. Fíli takes his seat and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze under the table. But you grip it tightly, not letting him pull away. He resists for a second, then lets his hand relax in yours and brushes his thumb over the back of it.

“What do you want?”

You jump slightly when Thorin addresses you.

“We have a proposal–”

“I did not ask you,” Thorin cuts Tauriel off brusquely, still looking at you.

It’s quiet for a moment as you open and close your mouth, unsure of what to say. “Tauriel has a plan,” you finally offer.

“Hear her out, please,” Kíli jumps in. His leg bounces beneath the table, making ripples on the surfaces of abandoned glasses of wine. “She thinks she knows how to cure Y/N.”

His phrasing makes you wince, and Fíli squeezes your hand again.

“Nonsense,” Thorin scoffs. “There’s nothing wrong with her. Nothing that you should know about,” he adds when Tauriel arches an eyebrow. “Unless someone has been speaking of things they should not.”

Everyone turns to Kíli, who suddenly looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. He gives you a helpless shrug, hands raised in surrender.

“Thorin, please,” Fíli urges quietly. “This is Y/N that we are talking about. Our Y/N.”

A vein throbs in Thorin’s temple, but he looks at Tauriel for the first time since she entered. “Get on with it, then.”

She dips her head. “Whatever ails her is not a physical problem, it’s magic borne of Mirkwood. That’s something dwarves simply cannot address.” Thorin bristles, but she raises a hand before he can speak. “I’ve no doubt that you have skilled healers, but she needs more than herbs and rest. Let her return to Mirkwood with me, and we will do everything we can to restore her memory.”

Hope rises in your chest as Thorin studies the elf maiden. “Why are you offering this? What do you stand to gain from helping?” His tone is laced with suspicion, but less anger than before.

“I’ve a certain… admiration for the for kingdom of Erebor after all it has endured.” Her eyes flicker briefly to Kíli, who absentmindedly fiddles with his belt. “I would be glad to see its princess well once again.”

“Can you swear that your efforts will be successful? That she will return whole and unharmed with her memories intact?”

But that hope dies as Tauriel hesitates. “I cannot,” she admits at last.

“No.” Thorin rises from the table, taking his mantle from the back of his chair and heading for the door.

“No?!” you repeat incredulously. You’re on your feet before you even know it, hands curled into fists at your side. Fíli moves to grab your wrist, but you dodge his hand. “This is our best chance to–”

“No!” He turns on his heel to face you again. There’s a shadow across his face, brows knitted in a furious glare. “It is too much to risk without a guarantee of success. That is final.”

“Fine!” you snap, crossing your arms. Your headache pulses even harder behind your eyes. “I’ll go anyway!”

“Careful, Y/N…” Kíli whispers. He’s risen as well, knuckles white as they grip the back of his chair.

“Then you can stay there,” Thorin thunders. His stormy eyes move to his nephews. “And if either of you set foot outside our lands, you can keep going all the way back to Ered Luin. Now, get out.”

“Uncle–”

“Out, Fíli! All of you!”

You snort, glaring at Thorin and pulling Fíli up from the table by his wrist. “Come on,” you grumble. “I’m not going to keep arguing with a stone wall.” You storm from the room, dragging Fíli with you and doing your best to slam the oversized door—right in poor Kíli’s face. He pushes it open behind you, nearly stumbling as Tauriel breezes past him.

“Pack your things for a journey,” she says briskly, her long strides quickly putting distance between you and the angry king. “All of you. We leave at midnight.”

“Are you out of your mind?!” Fíli hisses. “You heard Thorin—he’ll have our heads!”

“If he even lets us back in,” Kíli mutters.

“Thorin can… what is that phrase you use, Y/N?”

“‘Get fucked?’” you offer.

“Yes, that.”

“This is a bad idea,” Fíli reminds the group for the hundredth time. But even as he voices his concerns, he still busies himself with tacking up the ponies and arranging the bags. “If Thorin or Amad catch us, we’re as good as dead.”

“With how loud you’re talking, they can probably hear you from their chambers.” You shift from one foot to the other, shivering. August in the mountains means pleasantly warm days, but the northern cold refuses to be forgotten, bringing frigid nights. Without missing a beat, Fíli sheds his coat and drapes it over your shoulders. You give him a quick smile.

A warm, fuzzy snout nudges your shoulder. You turn to find a black and white pony stretching its neck over the door of its stall, sniffing your pack hopefully. It nickers softly when you lift your hand to stroke its nose.

“That one’s yours,” Kíli says, leaning against the stable’s door. Tauriel and his pony already wait outside, the animal pawing impatiently at the ground. “You named him Domino, and refused to tell us what that means.”

“Domino?” You smile as you fit the bridle on him. “Perfect.” He follows you outside obediently, still nudging your bag in hopes of finding treats. Fíli comes to your rescue once again with a handful of sugar cubes swiped from the kitchen. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Trying to steal my pony’s heart?”

“Aye.” Fíli winks and swings himself up onto his mount. “And I’m coming for yours next.” But his face turns serious as he glances up at the moon, full over your heads. Wisps of clouds tickle its edges, threatening to block out its light. “We should go. If we make good pace, it shouldn’t be more than a few weeks’ travel.”

You sigh and climb up on your own pony. Next to Tauriel’s horse, you’re reminded once again how small you are. Inside the mountain, it’s easier to ignore. Everything is dwarf-sized. You-sized. But outside, the world does not cater to your diminished stature.

“A few weeks’ travel to where?” A voice from behind startles you from your thoughts. Fíli freezes next to you.

You turn around slowly, feeling like a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar. Dís folds her arms and taps her foot as she waits for an answer. There’s something tucked under her arm, but you can’t quite make it out.

“Nowhere,” Kíli responds quickly. “Nowhere at all.” He gives his mother the most innocent look he can muster, but it’s pointless. Every pony is laden with at least one travel pack.

Fíli purses his lips tightly. “We’re going to get help for Y/N,” he admits through gritted teeth. He raises his chin defiantly, as if expecting resistance. “Thorin won’t listen. We’re taking matters into our own hands.”

Dís shakes her head in disappointment. Your heart sinks as she steps forward and tugs Fíli’s coat down from your shoulders. The journey, over before it even began.

“Not dressed like that, you’re not.” She returns the coat to Fíli and unfolds the bundle under her arm. It unfurls into a thick, forest green cloak. “I was saving this for an anniversary gift, but you’ll be needing it if you don’t want to freeze at night,” she explains as she hands it to you. She squeezes your hand. “Come back safe. I’ll stall Thorin as best I can.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, wrapping the cloak around you.

“Fíli is right, we must be off,” Tauriel snaps her reins and sets off down the packed earth road. The boys fall in behind her.

“And Kíli?” Dís calls after them.

He halts his pony with a tug of the reins and turns in his saddle with a sigh. “Yes, Amad?”

“Hurry up and propose to the elf.” She slaps the haunches of your pony, sending you lurching forward into the night.

Fíli did not like it.

He couldn’t tell if it was day or night. He couldn’t see the path ahead—if there even was one. He couldn’t hear whatever Thorin was saying.

But mostly, he didn’t like how you hung limply in his arms, head lolling with each step he took. He hefted you closer to his chest, shifting you to better support your head in the crook of his arm. “You’ll be alright,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.” There was no response from the woman in his arms. It was almost upsetting, how light you felt. How small you were. You were dwarf-sized, yes, but the proportions were all wrong.

Fíli glanced up to make sure he was still with the Company. Since they’d left the main path, it was becoming harder to keep up. He’d nearly lost them a few… minutes ago? Hours? Days?

After Fíli had caught up—or let them catch up to him, he couldn’t tell—Kíli started to hold onto Fíli’s coat to stay together, like he’d once done as a child. Slowly, they fell to the back of the group.

“Let me carry her for a bit.” Kíli slipped an arm underneath you.

As the younger prince made to take you from Fíli, his blood ran hot. He only held you tighter, pulling away from Kíli. “No,” he growled. “I’m carrying her.”

“Fee, you’ll tire.”

“I won’t!” he snapped. “I have to be there when she wakes up. It has to be me! I…” His sudden burst of ferocity faded away as he looked down at you, leaving behind a hollow feeling in his chest.

If he didn’t know any better, he would think you were dead. Only the slow rise and fall of your chest proved you still lived. In rare moments, your face would twitch, ever so slightly. Holding you like this, your body as limp as a ragdoll, made his stomach feel as if it was filled with stones.

Cold talons of dread gripped his heart. “She will wake up,” Fíli whispered, his soft voice trembling. He looked back up at Kíli for reassurance. “She will. She has to. And I need to be there, it has to be me. I have to tell her… She needs to know…” A lump in his throat kept Fíli from continuing.

Kíli furrowed his brow. He’d never seen his brother look this distressed. As his eyes went back and forth from your face to Fíli’s, it dawned on him. His eyes grew wide. “You’re… Fíli… You’ve fallen in love with her, haven’t you?”

Fíli’s mouth moved silently, as if the words were stuck in his throat. But he didn’t need to answer. His face told Kíli everything he needed to know. The desperation. How his expression softened when he gazed at you. The way he gently cradled you.

“Is she your…?” Kíli didn’t need to finish; the word hung heavily in the air between the brothers. His One.

Amad had explained once how it felt to find her One in their father. She had courted a few other dwarrows, but something always gnawed at the back of her mind. But meeting him, she spoke of a warmth that filled her, how everything just felt right. Fíli had never given it much thought. None of the dams in Ered Luin particularly caught his eye. And besides, Thorin never took a wife. Sometimes a dwarf just doesn’t find their One, or care much about finding them.

But you… Fíli hadn’t felt the instant warmth and security his mother had described when he met you. It crept in slowly as you ate together, rode together, fought together. When you sent him little smiles from across the fire at dinner. When you listened intently as he showed you his blades. When you gripped his arm tightly at the first sign of danger. There was no going back for Fíli, and even though your new size worried him, the way you fit in his arms felt right. It shouldn’t feel right, he knew that. He had never heard of a dwarf finding their One in someone of an entirely different race. And of course, you were even stranger, coming from another world.

“Fee?” Kíli’s voice, unusually gentle, pulled Fíli from his thoughts.

With great effort, Fíli tore his gaze from you and looked his brother in the eye. “I don’t know what else this feeling could be,” he answered simply.

Both princes fell silent as they watched your sleeping face. “This will not be easy,” Kíli said at last.

“I know.”

#fanfiction #fíli #fili x reader #fili x you #kíli #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #dís #everybody lives #it gets angstier before it gets fluffier #protective Fíli #tauriel

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tflatte · 4 months

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[ID: a screenshot of a Kindle page, reading “There was a room, and a pallet inside it; a small torch burned low in a socket upon the wall. A man lay upon the cot, his face bruised and battered, his hands curled against his chest bloody: and Laurence knew him; knew him and knew himself. He remembered another door opening, in Bristol, three years before, and a voice asking him to come outside his prison, in a Britain under siege. “Tenzing,” Laurence said, and, as Tharkay opened feverish eyes, went to help him stand.]

nothing to see here just two bi kings looking at each other and curing amnesia

#temeraire #can you IMAGINE being tharkay in this scene though #it’s supposed to be HIS job to play deus ex machina

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ravenelyx · 5 months

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I Love You In Every Timeline - Sebastian Sallow

One Hundred Years of Solitude

[Fic masterlist]

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, Harry Potter characters appearance, no name appearance for the reader

Themes: angst, temporarily unrequited love, pining, some form of transference¹, developing relationship, slow burn, explicit (eventually)

Summary: "He turned around, and the world seemed to stop around him. She had followed him: into another timeline, into another universe." In which Sebastian, in his search for a cure in the Dark Arts, finds himself 100 years into the future and meets his most trusted companion's descendant (who looks far too similar to the girl he was once secretly in love with).

A/N: chapter rewritten :)

AO3 • Wattpad

The Great Hall was almost empty when he entered it, as most of the students had already gone to class. Since he had a free period before Charms, Sebastian decided to allow himself more sleep than usual.

Not that it had been any useful.

He felt exhausted, dragging himself to the nearest seat at his House table and resting his head on the cold wood. There was hardly anything left, and he was more than happy to just munch on a cold pancake and drink a glass of pumpkin juice, enough to sustain him for at least a few hours, although barely.

Perhaps it was the sight of the Hall, empty and familiar, perhaps it was the enchanted ceiling shining sunny rays on the Slytherin table, perhaps it was the unsatisfactory breakfast after an unsatisfactory dinner, but for a split second, Sebastian was at home.

It was a sour feeling, like his pumpkin juice had spoiled and his pancake had grown mould in his hands, yet he couldn't stop feasting on it, searching for a piece he could savour, if only once. That, he realised, was the beginning of his destruction.

Memories of the previous day's conversation came flooding back and he groaned, the weight in his chest growing heavier, and the pancake suddenly seemed even less appetising as he dropped it onto the plate.

'Everything is clearer in the morning ', Dumbledore had said.

Perhaps he should lend me his glasses , Sebastian thought.

Fortunately, the headache had subsided since the conversation, and although his sleep hadn't been as satisfying as he'd hoped, he felt a little better than he had a few hours ago. Maybe it was the pumpkin juice.

He shoved the pancake back in his mouth, almost choking on it, and rubbed his eyes before standing up. From his table, a few Slytherins turned their heads towards him, and he recognised a few of his peers among them: a brown-haired boy was waving a wand around with a devil-may-care attitude while a blonde girl tried to snatch it out of his hands. None of them seemed in a rush to leave, which almost made Sebastian think he had read his timetable wrong.

He checked again for good measure and he was glad to know he was absolutely right. He then thought he might have been mistaken about the students: they either weren't in the same year as him as he had previously thought or they were waiting for the perfect moment to be fashionably late.

Sebastian, for all his self-respect and gallantry, had little time to be fashionable.

Leaving the students be — and ignoring their eyes on him as soon as he turned towards the door — he headed off to class, ready to begin lessons in a new, unfamiliar environment.

The walk to Classroom 2E was almost refreshing, and for once, he didn’t lament the stairs. The same couldn’t be said for the screeching laugh of a certain Slytherin girl as soon as she saw him wander around.

It felt bloody ironic to think that after five years.

If anything, the hallways were deserted and the cracking fire of the torches put him at ease, and that was a pretty huge step up.

“Lost, new fifth-year?” laughed Pansy Parkinson, then she turned to her right as if expecting someone to pat her back.

If her goal was to discomfit him, she might need to review her bullying strategies.

“You’re not still crying because of what happened yesterday, are you?” retorted Sebastian, only stopping briefly to look at her before resuming his walk.

“I could give you detention,” she shrieked.

A perfect pureblood pair, he almost wanted to throw up.

“That would delight me.”

Pansy Parkinson didn’t follow him, for which he was delightfully glad. Not that it would matter that much: he’d see her in class anyway — probably fleering at him with newfound energy once she had his beau beside her.

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borathae · 10 months

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↳ Index [Chapter 37 - Heilmittel]

• Heilmittel (German, cure)

Warnings: scary dark underground tunnels, violence in the form of stabbing, so many tears too

Wordcount: 8.1k

a/n: i don’t care what anyone says, writing OC acting like that is so much fun. we stan a slightly mad queen, she’s so hot for that hahahah

“Sweetest, you are back”, Taehyung greets you atop the marvel stairs, hurrying down in light steps, “you look well-rested. How were your days by the coast?” he asks.

Jimin is atop the stairs as well, appearing after having heard Taehyung call out for you. He is still in his painting clothes, cheek covered in the remnants of a light sky blue.

“Yeah, yeah they were good. Really good. I can’t stay for long, I have to test something out”, you dismiss him, slipping out of your coat quickly with his help.

Taehyung, who wanted to lean in for a sweet kiss, gets denied as you hurry past him with nothing but the cellar in mind.

“So…it didn’t help”, Taehyung says with utter heartbreak in his voice, dropping your coat on the ground as his body sinks into itself in defeat.

“Don’t run away! Taehyung asked you a question”, Jimin calls out, placing a protective arm over Taehyung’s shoulder. He even tries to make himself bigger by puffing out his chest.

“What?” you stop, looking over your shoulder, “oh no, they helped. I finally figured it out, Tae. I know what to do.”

“What?”

“I know what to do. I can save Yoongi”, you say and smile before turning away to hurry to the cellar.

The vampires follow you.

“How did you figure it out? Where are we going? What are you doing?” Taehyung asks.

“The cellar, I have to test it out before I actually do it”, you tell him, unlocking the door with the keys you keep in the dresser just next to the heavy door.

“So that is where you keep those keys. How is that possible? I looked into those drawers a dozen times before and they were always empty”, Taehyung mumbles.

“Protection spell. I hid them for everyone but me”, you explain, lighting the torches with a snap of your fingers. They flicker to life one by one until the entire staircase is lit, now guiding your eyes into the blinding darkness down below.

“Why would you hide them?”

“Because I couldn’t have you guys finding them and taking them away from me. I know you would have tried something like that.”

“I wouldn’t-“, Taehyung stops talking when you send him a look over your shoulder. Flustered, he fixes his gaze to the side, “-I would have had very good reason for doing it”, he gives in, “just like I still do. I told you to find relaxation by the coast and what did you do? You continued thinking about it.”

“Technically we didn’t go to the coast”, you explain, lighting the torches in the cellar as well. They flicker on one by one, guiding the way to the heavy iron gate at the end of the long corridor. Groaning of your captives greets your ears as you pass them. Like always you stop in your steps to cast your eyes on the wall behind which – and three more heavy doors – Namjoon is living out his eternal sentence. Like always you lower your eyes in pure hatred, but today, only today, you dare to add just a hint of glee in it. You found a cure. Namjoon lied. You didn’t lose everything. You fucking won.

“What do you mean by that?” Taehyung rips you back to reality by gripping your shoulder tightly to turn you to him. His worried eyes meet yours, “where else did you go?”

“Back to Meredith and then my grandmother’s house.”

“What?” Taehyung gasps, looking over his shoulder at Jungkook, “did, did you know about that?”

“It was my idea”, Jungkook says, “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t give up Yoongi either.”

“Well, neither do I! I want Yoongi’s return just as much as you do. But I trusted in you to keep her distracted. She needed some time away from all of this and you dragged her right into it again”, Taehyung’s voice is raised. He points his finger at Jungkook, “when you told me that you will take her because you can see how stressed I am, this was a lie wasn’t it? You didn’t want me to have some distance from her, you wanted to take her to Meredith. You, you deceived me.”

“I didn’t deceive you. I just…I wanted you to have some time away from all of this, I really did and then you had that idea for the trip and I knew that I could combine it with my own plans. My initial plans were to take ___ and leave one night without telling you guys.”

“Oh my god”, Taehyung stumbles back, “you are all a bunch of deceiving liars.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to lie to you. I really didn’t”, Jungkook insists, stepping closer to take Taehyung’s hands but Jimin stops him with a firm hand on his chest.

“This is close enough”, he grumbles with a grim expression.

“Seriously?”

“Yes. Seriously.”

Jungkook studies Jimin’s face and gives up with a sigh, “Tae baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I did and I’m sorry for that. I really am.”

“No. I’m too upset to forgive you right now”, Taehyung says, turning away from Jungkook and you, “I’m leaving. I can’t take another one of your lies.”

You stop him.

“My darling”, you say calmly, touching his chest. He is breathing heavily, letting you know just how upset over your betrayal he was, “I know you feel hurt and betrayed right now, but please stay with me for a little while longer. I promise you, it will all make sense soon.”

“No. I can’t bear to watch you fall further and further into madness.”

“Please trust me”, you insist, “I need you with me on this one, please.”

“As did I”, Taehyung wipes your hands off his chest on a swift and angry movement, “I needed you to go to the coast and relax and yet you didn’t.”

“I did. I relaxed, I promise you. I, I slept and ate and talked to my grandmother and I feel refreshed.”

Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head, “you told me that she died years ago.”

“Yes, but we saw her. I’m serious. We actually saw her.”

“More lies. How wonderful”, Taehyung exclaims, throwing his hands over his head in defeat, “now you’re thinking me a complete fool.”

“Tae, hey look at me”, you cup his face even if he flinches back at first, “I’m not lying to you. We saw her. We visited her in this weird world somewhere between my memories and the spirit realm and we spent two days at her home and once we woke up again, two days actually passed, but my body didn’t feel tired. It felt as if I truly took a vacation at her home.”

“I never even heard of this being possible.”

“Neither did I. But it happened and, and she finally gave me what I needed all this time. She gave me an answer, Tae.”

“I don’t believe you. You, you most definitely passed out again and, and hallucinated. You’re losing your mind to the research, please ___ just relax for once, please.”

“I will. After I freed Yoongi, I will finally relax. I promise you”, you say, “please trust me. One last time. Please.”

“I don’t know if I can”, Taehyung whispers with heartbreak in his voice and his shoulder sagging from all the weight of emotion dragging him down.

“Please? Just one more time.”

“And if it won’t work?”

“It will, trust me. It will work. This time around it will work.”

“And if it won’t?” Taehyung insists, furrowing his brows in desperate anger.

“Then….I don’t know”, you say, whispering your next words with trembling in your voice, “then you get the satisfaction of telling me that I have gone mad.”

“I wouldn’t find satisfaction in telling you that! Each word I speak about your madness pierces my heart with glowing blades”, Taehyung’s eyes fill with tears, “I’m dying slowly because of the pain, ___. Seeing you fail again would bring me no satisfaction.”

“I know”, you take Taehyung’s trembling hands, “trust me, I know and, and I don’t want to hurt you. I just…need you to come with me one last time, please.”

“Fine”, Taehyung gives up, hissing the word at you, “I will come with you, but I won’t find enjoyment in it. Know that much.”

“Thank you”, you whisper, guiding his knuckles to your lips to kiss them softly, “I don’t take your support for granted.”

Taehyung pulls his hands free and takes a step back, “just take me wherever you want to go”, he says coldly.

“Come. Follow me, I’ll lead the way”, you say and after grabbing a torch you turn to strut away in big steps.

Taehyung draws close to Jimin. You hear the latter ask him if he was okay to which Taehyung gives him no answer, but you figure that he either shook or nodded his head. You may know the answer already, feeling too guilty to dwell on it any longer. You really do feel for Taehyung and you understand where he is coming from, but you are so close to making everything right. You are so close to making your family whole again and to bring Yoongi back. You can’t fix the thing with Taehyung when the solution to fixing everything was so close.

Jungkook tries to hold Taehyung’s hand, but the latter merely pulls his hand away before that could happen. So Jungkook walks next to Taehyung with sagging shoulders and a big pout on his lips. He feels really fucking guilty too. He never wanted to hurt Taehyung.

You stop when you reach the iron gate, pulling out the big black key to unlock it.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t go in there”, Taehyung gasps, reaching out to stop you but too late.

The gate opens with a loud squeak.

“It’s okay. I know my way around.”

“What? How?”

“I spent too many nights down here.”

“What?” even Jungkook sounds surprised at your confession.

Yes, you will go there. You will reveal your greatest secret to them. Perhaps you are acting irrationally and perhaps you are making a huge mistake, but you have never felt as much hope as you do right now. If anyone can solve your problem then it must be your grandmother. She must be right with what she told you. And because she was right, you feel confident in revealing your greatest secret to them. You won’t be needing it anymore after today. Because you will have Yoongi back.

“How is this possible? We told you to stay out of those tunnels. They are dangerous.”

“Oh I know, trust me”, you say and laugh breathily, “I met the danger, but they’re not here anymore.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means”, you look over your shoulder. Shadows swallow half of your face while the other side is illuminated by the fading shine of the torches way, way back. “it means that they’re not here anymore.”

“How can we understand that?” Jimin asks.

The three vampires take a small cautionary step back upon watching your lips curl into an almost menacing smile, “I made them safe”, you say and snicker darkly.

“Oh.”

You turn your face away from them again and continue your confident walk.

“Careful of that one though”, you say, pointing down a dark tunnel of nothingness, “there’s water in this one. It reaches up to my chin at the third step. I think that there’s a whole system down there which will never be entered by people again.”

The vampires look into the darkness. You were right. You may not be able to see it, but those steps lead into deep, cold water. It sends shivers of fear down their spines. Sometimes seeing what the darkness hides is scarier than the darkness in itself.

“Where are we going anyway?” Jungkook asks.

“The round room.”

“What?” Jungkook’s loud exclaim echoes throughout the entire system, bouncing off the walls and returning to your ears as loud and messy voices, “why would we go back there?”

“Because this is where it is.”

“Where what is? What are you talking about?”

“You’ll see. It’s not far anymore.”

“You’re seriously giving me the creeps”, Jimin murmurs.

“Don’t be scared, it’s just me”, you assure him with just enough mindlessness in your voice that it sounds dishonest.

“Yeah fucking exactly”, he whispers just quietly enough that you can’t hear him. He intertwines his fingers with Taehyung, holding his hand as tightly as possible.

“What were you doing in the round room?” Taehyung asks you, following you as you take a sharp turn into a side tunnel. The air smells like rotting flesh.

“Careful now, there’s some…” you let out a scoff, shaking your head, “just be careful with what you breathe in.”

“What did you do?”

“It’s not far anymore”, you ignore Jimin’s question, “oh, I’m so excited. You guys won’t even believe how excited I am. This is everything I fucking wanted for months. Fucking victory. Yes!”

Jimin actually yells in shock because of your loud exclaim, hiding behind Taehyung.

You whip around, grinning at them. The flames contort your face into a mask of madness.

“I’m fucking winning. Namjoon was wrong, I didn’t lose. He did”, you laugh loudly, pointing your finger into the direction of where Namjoon is captured far far away, “today is the day where he will finally see that he was wrong.”

“What, what do you mean?”

“Victory, my friends”, your lips curl into a crazed smile, “victory will be ours today.”

“O-okay?”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. You step closer, “what’s wrong?” you repeat your question, squinting your eyes as you study them. “Why are you all holding hands?”

“We uhm, we aren’t”, Jungkook stutters, releasing Taehyung’s hand which he previously almost crushed from holding it so tightly.

You furrow your brows, “don’t be scared, it’s just me. You know that”, you say and whip back around to continue your fast walk, “you guys should stop worrying about all this silly stuff when there is much more pressing matters to take care of. Come, it’s just down that tunnel.”

The vampires exchange a weary look with each other. They can still see you. Far in the distance, walking with not even an ounce of fear in your steps. The shadows swallow you more and more until it even smothers the shine of your torch. They blink in surprise. How are they unable to see you? What happened?

“Are you coming?!” you call out from the darkness.

“Coming!” Jungkook answers you and then drags Taehyung and Jimin with him.

You wait for them to join your side. The shine of the torch has returned, illuminating your features weakly.

“You guys can’t see shit, can you?” you ask them.

“No, we can’t.”

“Good.”

“What do you mean good?”

“We’re close.”

“Close to what?”

“Victory, good Jimin.”

“Can you talk like you’re normally talk? You’re being creepy.”

“I’m not creepy”, you say, shining the light into Jimin’s face, “what do you want me to tell you? Stupid fucking stories about myself? We don’t have time for that.”

“Why can’t we see in the darkness?”

“A curse, duh”, you say, leading the way again.

“A curse?”

“Yes. Stay close”, you tell them, taking a turn to the right, “it’s cast all over that stupid system. I think Namjoon’s stupid coven cast it to mask the entrance to the round room. It starts by those two statues we passed.”

“We passed statues?” Jungkook gasps.

“Yes. Two demons. Ugly bastards, if you ask me. I think they’re the beacons for the curse”, you say, “it ends right under the university by two statues of angels. It’s hilarious isn’t it?” you say and laugh, “the university is so close if only you know where to walk.”

“We’ve been walking for too long. You’re only imagining that it’s not taking long.”

“Perhaps. Now quiet and stay close. There are rats nearby.”

“We can handle a few rats.”

“You don’t wanna meet those rats. The curse made them different. Trust me”, you say.

“How do you know?”

“Who do you think cleared out most of those tunnels?” you hiss, sending him a dark look.

“Who are you?” Jimin asks.

“I am me”, you answer him and stop, “we’re here.”

“Fuck. I can smell the ammoniac”, Jungkook says, swallowing heavily.

Taehyung, who notices how he begins to shake, intertwines his fingers with Jungkook.

“It is going to be alright. We are right here with you”, he whispers.

A smile tugs at Jungkook’s lips. He squeezes Taehyung’s hand.

“Thank you”, he whispers and Taehyung simply leans in and kisses his cheek. No words need to be exchanged between them afterwards for both of them to know that the fight of before was forgiven and forgotten.

“Okay, it’s done”, you pull their attention back to you.

“What’s done?”

“I lifted the barrier spell. You should be able to enter now.”

“Barrier spell?”

“Yeah. To keep you guys out and them in.”

“Them?”

You open the door and step inside. The three vampires follow with a lump in their throat.

You snap your fingers to light the torches at once, revealing the round room and your captives chained to the wall. They hiss and groan at the sudden light, cowering away in fear upon laying eyes on you.

“What the actual fuck?” Jimin exclaims, “why the fuck do you have guys chained up here?”

“Not guys. Vampires”, you correct him.

“What?” Jimin’s voice is squeaky in shock.

You look over your shoulder. You are already by your captives, currently removing one of them from the wall chains.

“Superiors. Don’t worry, they’re not just any vampires.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you have vampires chained up in, in this awful room surrounded by demonic curses and a, a barrier spell”, Taehyung is the one to speak up.

“Research obviously”, you answer him, “follow me, don’t fucking fight me”, you hiss at the vampire you are currently dragging to the chair.

“Research?”

“I mean, I couldn’t have done it on you guys, could I?”

“Done what?!”

You slam the vampire down in the chair, holding him down with strong magic so you can chain his limbs tightly.

“What are you doing to him?” Jungkook asks you, feeling taken back to the time he was chained up in this awful room.

“I’m making sure that he doesn’t escape. Those chains are enchanted because unlike Namjoon, the moron, I don’t want my vampires to fight themselves free”, you explain, patting the vampire's shoulder, “there we go, now you can’t escape.”

“Guys please help me, she is fucking crazy. She killed Melanie and, and Rich and Eric and now she is going to kill me”, the vampire begs, looking over his shoulder at the others.

“Way to snitch on me. The fuck?” you gasp, stealing his voice with one swirl of your wrist.

The vampire opens and closes his mouth fruitlessly, looking at your friends with scared eyes.

“What did you do to him?”

“I stole his voice. He was ruining the conversation”, you explain nonchalantly as you grind up the wood.

“Is this true? Did you kill people?”

“Yes. They failed the research”, you explain, stepping closer to the vampire.

“What research? What are you talking about?”

“The search for a cure. How did you not figure that out?” you hiss, “isn’t it obvious yet? I’m trying to find a bloody cure.”

Their eyes flit to the bowl of ground wood in your hand.

“___ what are you going to do with this wood?” Jungkook asks.

“Force it into his lungs. Just like Namjoon did with Yoongi.”

“What? Are you insane? This is going to kill him”, Taehyung gasps.

“Only if the antidote fails, but it won’t. Not this time. I know it won’t”, you say and grab the vampire by its throat, “this is gonna sting for a little, I’m not sorry about that.”

Taehyung lets out a sound which was a mixture of a scoff and a gasp. You lift your eyes from the vampire, cocking your brow at Taehyung.

“What?” you ask him.

“Who are you?”

“I am me! How often do I have to tell you that?”

“No, no you aren’t you. I, I barely even recognise you.”

“Well, get used to it because this is who I am.”

“No”, Taehyung shakes his head, “no, this isn’t you.”

“It is!” you yell at him.

The room is dead silent instantly.

“This is who I am. This is me”, you dig your finger into your own chest, “all my life I spent feeling weird and different and like something was wrong with me, but not anymore. This?” you light your hand on fire with nothing but a thought. It was solely to make a point, “this is who I am. This is the fucking reason why I felt different and I won’t let you tell me that this isn’t me when I spent twenty five fucking years of my life searching for who I am.”

“Killing vampires for fun is not who you are”, Taehyung says. His voice is raised as well.

“I’m not doing this for fun. I’m doing this to save Yoongi. I find no enjoyment in this. Do you think I get off on failing over and over again? No. I want this to be over”, you hiss.

“Killing them is still not the answer.”

“I’m not even killing vampires. I’m killing monsters!” you throw back, grabbing the chained vampire by his hair to tug on it harshly and in the process, force his mouth to open, “they’re no different than those cursed rats outside or the demons lurking in those shadows. They’re monsters.”

Taehyung shakes his head, “no, they’re not. They’re like us.”

“They are nothing like you. They’re nothing but Namjoon’s ugly scum. You are my family.”

“We were once Namjoon’s scum too”, Taehyung says, “how are you so certain that they wanted this life for themselves?”

“I know what you are trying to do here. I know that you want me to see the better of myself. But this is the better version of me. I have never felt more like myself than I do right now.”

“No, it’s not. This is madness.”

“Do not speak to me of madness, Kim Taehyung, when I stumbled into this life because you and Jimin wanted a snack”, you growl, finally releasing the vampire's hair to instead, pull out the dagger of your grandmother.

Taehyung closes his mouth, staring at you with widened eyes.

“The madness started long before all of this, but it will end tonight”, you say.

“___ please”, Taehyung tries only to be silenced by you with a lift of your finger.

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“It does. Now look away if you don’t want to relive how it was to lose Yoongi”, you tell them and blow the wood into the vampire’s face.

There is nothing for a second and then he begins writhing and squirming in agony, crying out silently because his voice was still gone.

“Holy fucking shit, you’re actually crazy”, Jimin gasps, stumbling back because he thought that he would never have to watch something as gruesome as a vampire choking on wood splinters again and yet here he was, having to watch it again.

You can’t react, you have to concentrate. Have to do what your grandmother told you to do. Have to safe that vampire from dying.

“Esrever”, you begin chanting the word she told you to speak until the blade glows golden. And then, only then, you ram it into the chest of the dying vampire, deep enough that you can feel the blade touch the ribs at his back.

��No. I’m fucking out”, Jimin says and turns away, “you’re actually fucking insane.”

“Please don’t do this”, Taehyung begs with his hand thrown over his mouth.

Jungkook just stares wordlessly, feeling his stomach twist while deep down a glimmer of hope begins flickering.

Despite the blade in his chest, the vampire stops squirming in agony. He stops squirming. He actually stops squirming. Until finally it is gone.

You pull the blade out, staring at the vampire with your entire body shaking in emotion.

“Holy shit”, you whisper shakily, staring at the blade in your hand. It is covered in black blood. Runes have appeared on the metal. The golden glow in them is consuming the black wood splinters trapped in the blade, “holy shit.”

With a swirl of your wrist you give the vampire his voice back.

“H-how, how are you feeling?”

“Like, like myself. What, what did you do to me?” the vampire stutters and although his voice is terribly ruined as a remnant from his death fight, he looks healthy.

“Holy shit”, you press out, stumbling back and dropping the knife in the process, “it fucking worked”, you manage to get out and then nine weeks of pain, heartbreak and hopelessness come crushing down on you, dragging you to your knees as you break down in relieved tears.

You have no recollection of the minutes which follow. You don’t know if you cried or screamed or laughed or perhaps fell victim to a mixture of everything. You don’t know what happened because your brain didn’t keep any of those seconds as memories. Perhaps the cry was as much trauma as it was relief. Perhaps having to keep the memories of this cry would have been too burdening to do. Perhaps however you couldn’t remember anything, because for the first time in seventy long nights, you don’t have to think of anything. No new loss to stomach, no new seconds of self loathing, no new moments of grief and no new fear of more hours spent researching the hopeless. You don’t have to think of anything anymore, because you finally won.

“I fucking won”, you wail, laughing just as much as you are crying, “I goddamn fucking won!”

You think that you jumped up and flipped the table in happiness. You can’t really remember a lot, because it all happened too fast.

“Fucking take that Kim Namjoon! I won!” you scream, ripping the door open to yell it into the endlessness of the tunnels, “I won! I beat you! Holy fucking shit, I beat you!” you screech and overtaken by your emotions, you retch only to empty the entire contents of your stomach on the ground.

“Hey, it’s okay”, Jungkook is by your side instantly, rubbing your back. He is crying just as much, “it’s okay. You did it, baby. You can rest now.”

You don’t even mind that you threw up. It is over as fast as it happened. Your body minds as you feel terribly dizzy and out of it afterwards, but you fight through those feelings, lifting your head.

“___”, Taehyung gasps, hurrying to you, “you are bleeding.”

“I fucking won”, you croak, barely registering when both Jungkook and Taehyung try to wipe the blood from your nose, “I’m getting Yoongi back”, you press out, head pounding like crazy, “okay fuck, I..feel…I, I need help”, you say, vision going black and head hitting Jungkook’s chest.

Someone is holding your hand. Both of them. Two pairs of hands hold them. So two people are holding your hand. Fuck, your head is pounding. Every inch of your body feels heavy in exhaustion. Did you fall asleep? Where are you? What happened? You open your eyes. It is bright outside. It’s the typical brightness the day gets when it is about to snow. What happened? Why are you in your bed? You try to sit up only to have the sharpest pain in humankind shoot through your brain.

“Fucking shit”, you press out, pulling a grimace of agony. Your head is pounding like crazy and breathing is so goddamn hard because of your stuffy nose.

“Darling?”

You turn your head where the voice came from, watching as Taehyung lifts his forehead from your hand.

“You’re finally awake”, his voice is heavy in tiredness, “oh god, I was so worried”, he presses out as his eyes fill with tears, “Kook, she’s awake!”

Someone stirs beside you.

“___?” Jungkook gasps.

You turn your head to him, watching as he props himself up on his elbow. He scoots closer, letting go of your hand to instead touch your cheeks.

“You’re finally awake”, Jungkook presses out, spilling tears just as Taehyung does, “I’m so fucking relieved.”

“What happened?”

“You passed out. It’s been ten hours since”, Taehyung explains.

You look at him, “ten hours? What? I don’t understand.”

“You were bleeding out of your nose and then you passed out against my chest”, Jungkook explains, “we tried to get you to wake up again, but you didn’t want to wake up anymore. We, we were so worried. We kept managing your heartbeat and, and even called Hobi to take a look at you, but you were out cold.”

“I passed out?” you try to sit up, but get stopped by both Jungkook and Taehyung pushing you back into the sheets.

“Don’t get up yet. Rest”, Taehyung says sternly.

“Okay?” you blink the sudden dizziness away, “I don’t understand what happened.”

“You were overwhelmed. The magic and the release of stress most definitely did it to you.”

“I see. Fuck”, you touch your forehead, “my head’s killing me.”

“Should I get you some pain medicine?” Jungkook offers.

“Yeah, maybe”, you say.

“I’ll get the others too”, Jungkook says, pecking your cheek, “don’t leave this bed until I’m back”, he orders and then disappears to get everything you need.

You turn your head to Taehyung, eyes closing halfway when he begins running his fingers over your forehead and temple. He is still holding your hand, clutching it so tightly you wonder if he will ever let you go again.

“I’m sorry for ever doubting you”, he whispers.

“Don’t.”

“No, I want to apologise. I was being unfair to you. If I knew how much you actually did, I would have never yelled at you.”

“Don’t apologise. You had every right to doubt me. And for yelling at me. I’m sorry for making you worry so much.”

He shakes his head, “I already forgave you. I understand now. All of it. You wanted to save Yoongi and you wanted to stop at nothing. Not even at killing…”, he hesitates with his choice of words, “monsters”, he decides in the end.

“I didn’t want to kill them. I really didn’t. But I had to. They were the only choice I had.”

“I know. I understand, I think. I don’t know, it is still a little difficult to come to terms with everything you hid from us.”

“I only did it to protect you.”

“Protect me?”

“Just…from what I became. You were right a little. I’m not a killer and I hadn’t noticed it, but I think that I did go a little mad.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, but the fondness in his eyes lets you know that he wasn’t angry at you. Not anymore.

“But I won’t apologise for anything else. I haven’t felt more like myself than I do ever since I found my powers and, and I won’t hide them. Not anymore.”

“I never wanted you to hide them. Oh darling”, Taehyung cups your cheek, “the only thing I wanted you to do was reconsider your choice of killing the vampire. But even that turned out to be an unnecessary worry”, his lips curl into a smile, “you found a cure.”

“I know”, you get out, eyes filling with tears, “I can’t believe that I did it. I want to cry.”

“I know, me too”, Taehyung says, kissing your tears away. He rests his forehead against yours afterwards, “I’m proud of you”, he whispers “you are a true fighter and I won’t ever doubt you again.”

“Thank you”, you whisper, crying silent tears, “and I want you to know that I would do the same for you. If you were the one with wood in your lungs I mean. I would do the same for you and, and the others too. I’d fucking fight until I’ll find a cure. Especially now that I am finally actually helpful. You, you are all my family and I can’t lose-”

“I know”, he interrupts you in a soft voice, cupping your cheek, “you don’t have to tell me. I know.”

“So you don’t think that I gave up on you when you were still imprisoned?”

“No, I don’t. I should have never said those awful words.”

“Thank you”, you get out, releasing your breath shakily as your eyes fall closed in relief. He isn’t angry anymore. This feels so good to know.

“I also learned not to mess with you. You frightening me a little in those tunnels”, he jokes, “I don’t even want to find out what you could actually do to us poor, weak vampires.”

You laugh, “no please don’t be scared of me. I would never hurt you.”

“I know, I was just making a silly joke”, he chuckles.

You snicker, moving your head away just enough that you could look into his eyes. They race between yours, glimmering in fondness.

“Thank you, Tae darling. I know it wasn’t easy to trust me, so thank you for still following me.”

He dismisses you with a shake of his head, “I’m just glad that you are finally awake again.”

You give him a small smile, nodding your head in agreement.

Taehyung takes your hand, tracing your knuckles slowly.

“___darling”, he begins, “my sweetest, Kookie told me about your panic attack”, he lifts his eyes, looking at you with great regret, “and I want to apologise. It should have been obvious to me that sending you away would trigger panic in you, but it wasn’t obvious. I am so incredibly sorry.”

“I went out of my own accord.”

“Did you truly?”

You hesitate and lower your eyes.

“See? Oh my sweetest darling, I have been awfully unfair to you. You stayed by my side when I grieved Jimin, tolerated my heartbroken stupidity and here I was acting like I had any right to turn you into a villain.”

He scoots closer and places his other hand over your hand as well.

“I understand your grief. I always did. But I think in my own heartbreak and frustration, I forgot for a second and I am sorry that I did.”

“No, it’s okay. I acted like an idiot.”

“___, just take the apology.”

It feels peculiar. You didn’t even think that you needed an apology and yet it feels good to hear it. While the beginning of the trip felt like unfair punishment, it ended in you finally finding the cure, so all the terrible feelings you had in the beginning were forgotten by you. The wounds still seemed to have remained however, because hearing Sorry from Taehyung felt healing. You think that you were the angriest at him. Subconsciously, but angry nonetheless.

“Thank you for the apology”, you say, “I could never explain why I felt so wronged by you in particular, but now I can, so thank you for apologising.”

“Of course, this is the least I can do.”

“And for reassuring me that you understand my grief.”

“Of course, oh my darling of course.”

“You won’t have to understand it anymore”, you smile, “really soon”, you add and squeeze his hand, “really, really soon.”

Taehyung gives you a smile and nods his head, “yes, very soon.”

“___”, Jungkook calls out for you as he enters your room, followed by Hoseok and Jimin, “I’m back, I got you everything you need.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. You’re actually awake”, Jimin says, carrying what seems to be a bowl of food.

“Hey there, I’m glad that you’re awake”, Hoseok says, hurrying to the bed with his doctor bag in his hand.

Taehyung stands up from the chair for him, letting him close to you so he could look at you.

“How are you feeling? Tell me everything”, Hoseok says, checking your temperature with the back of his hand.

“My head hurts and my nose is stuffy and I just feel…sick. I don’t know, I feel like I’m having the flu or something.”

“Mhm, I see”, Hoseok furrows his brows as he gets into his serious mode, “I’ll take a quick check up if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah sure, do your thing”, you allow him, trying to sit up.

Jungkook is on the bed instantly, helping you and keeping his hand on your back afterwards to support you. He holds your hand for good measures, eyes racing over your face in worry. All while Hoseok checks your body for any signs of a more serious illness, asking you questions about how certain spots and places feel.

“Okay, I think we’re done”, he says, lowering his stethoscope after checking your lungs.

“And?” Taehyung asks, having watched the whole scene whilst completely ruining his fingernails by biting them vigorously.

“I’m pretty sure that you caught the nastiest flu as a result of your body finally burning out”, Hoseok tells you, looking over his shoulder at Taehyung for just a quick second.

“So she got burn out, is that what you’re insinuating?”

“Yes, very much so. I can’t say if it’s human burn out or magical burn out, but it’s definitely one of those if not both.”

“What? But that’s impossible”, you gasp, “I didn’t even do anything.”

“Yeah sure”, Hoseok scoffs, “you didn’t work yourself into madness these past nine weeks. Be for real, ___. You’re lucky that you only burned out instead of just dropping dead.”

You lower your eyes in shame. How far did you lose yourself?

“So what can we do to help?” Jungkook asks.

“We should let her rest”, Hoseok says, “do you hear me, ___? Rest. That’s all you need right now. To rest and to recover”, Hoseok explains, storing his tools in his bag, “and to actually eat something again. You look starved.”

“I know”, you say.

“Here. I made you some stew”, Jimin says, presenting the bowl of hot stew with rice to you, “there’s lots of veggies in there for vitamins. You should try it.”

“I’ll try it a little later, I have to do one more thing.”

“___”, Hoseok warns in a stern voice.

“It’s not going to take long, I promise”, you insist.

“What do you even want to do?”

“I just…” you hesitate.

“You want to use the knife on Yoongi, don’t you?” Taehyung asks.

“Maybe?” you whisper.

“But it made you bleed last time”, Jungkook protests.

“Yes, but that was because I didn’t sleep and I, I was emotional. I know how to control myself now. It’s not going to make me bleed again.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. I slept and I feel good.”

“You said that the last time as well”, Taehyung protests, “I didn’t want to be angry at you anymore, but you are not making it easy not to. Didn’t you hear what Hoseok just told you?”

“I, I did and I’m planning on taking the biggest and laziest rest afterwards. I just have to know that Yoongi is alive and well. I can’t relax beforehand, even talking to you guys makes me anxious because I could already be with him, saving him.”

The four vampires exchange looks. They seem to be lost for words. All of them.

“See? You guys know that I’m right. So let me do the one thing I have been aching to do for the past seventy days.”

“And afterwards you will finally rest?”

“Yes, I will. I promise you guys.”

“Fuck. Then do what you must, it is not like we can actually stop you”, Taehyung gives up.

“Yes, you really can’t”, you say, “Kook, help me out of bed, I need to get up.”

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea. Yoongi wouldn’t want you dying for him, you know that he’d rather die with you than wake up and have you be dead”, Jungkook says, lifting you out of bed. He sets you down as gently as possible, holding your hands as support.

“I know, but I’m not going to die. The magic isn’t even that strong. I can handle it”, you assure him, “thank you”, you thank Hoseok after he helped you slip on your morning robe.

“I’m on Jungkook’s side by the way. I really think that you should rest for at least a day or two.”

“I will”, you give him a reassuring smile, “after I saved Yoongi. Now follow me guys, let’s get Yoongi back”, you say, taking the knife from the bedside table to finally get your love.

“This is such a bad idea, I can’t believe that I am letting her do this”, you hear Taehyung talk to Jimin, but ignore it. Your head may be pounding like crazy and your every step feels like too much, but you have a job to finish. Even if it is the last thing you will ever do. You won’t abandon Yoongi.

“What happened to the captives?” you ask Jungkook as you hurry to Yoongi’s wing together. Hoseok is by your other side, holding your other hand. Jimin and Taehyung follow right behind you, eyeing you with suspicious worry.

“We put them back into their original cells”, Jungkook tells you.

“Okay. Good. And the vampire I saved?”

“He’s still alive. The stab wound healed and he says that he feels the same.”

“Good. That’s good. I can’t believe that it actually worked. Holy shit, I’m getting Yoongi back”, you murmur, opening the door to his wing.

“If it works. I’m telling you, if I see you beginning to die because of the spell, I’m stopping it. I can’t lose you too.”

“It won’t fail, I’m sure of it.”

The bedroom door opens swiftly. You quicken your steps now that Yoongi was so near.

He looks like he always does.

“Hey there, my love”, you greet him, cupping his cheek, “holy shit, since when did your skin get so grey?”

“It’s always been this grey.”

“It has?” you run your eyes over his features. Sunken in eyes, prominent cheekbones, purple lips and grey skin and hair which has lost every shine and life. He doesn’t look healthy. He looks sick. How have you never noticed?

You feel emotions well up in your chest. How blind to his state were you? Clutching the handle of the knife, you force control back into your chest. You can’t become emotional now. You have to save him. It is right here, in your palm. The solution to his current awful state lies within your palm. You just have to step closer and push the blade inside his chest.

“What are you waiting for?” Jimin asks.

“I’m scared”, you confess, “what if I do it wrong?”

“You won’t do it wrong. I’ve watched you do it to that vampire like you’ve done it a million times before.”

“Yes, but that was because I didn’t care if he died or not. What if I mess up now?”

“If you start doubting yourself, you will talk your body into messing up. It’s best to just do it.”

“I know”, you tighten the grip on the knife, gaze switching between Yoongi’s sick face and his chest. You can get him back. You have done so much. You fought the most terrible of nightmares in the tunnels and you won. You won. You won against Namjoon. You found a cure. It worked on his creation and it will work on Yoongi.

“I love you, my prince. I’m getting you back”, you whisper and then you begin chanting the words as the knife pierces his chest.

The silver glow around him fades more and more. The knife feels like burning coal between your fingers.

“Okay wait, it’s actually working. Keep going”, Jungkook gasps, touching your back for support, “you’re doing it, baby. You’re actually doing it.”

Your vision is blurry from the pain of your head. Your voice can barely produce the right words without struggle for air. Blood drips from your nose.

“___ you? Wait, stop, you’re bleeding again. Wait.”

“Darling please stop right now”, Taehyung begs.

You only begin chanting louder, drowning out their begging. You can feel it working. The knife may be burning your flesh to the bone but you are getting him back. You are actually lifting the curse.

“Ah!” you exclaim, ripping your hands away as the knife begins melting in your fingers.

“It’s melting?” Jimin gasps.

“No, Yoongi” you exclaim, pulling it out of his chest even if you have never felt such pain before. You drop it afterwards, staring at your ruined hand with tears of pain in your eyes.

“What did you do? Your hand!” Taehyung gasps.

“I’m fine”, you croak, “what, what happened?” you stutter. You can taste the blood in your mouth as it runs out of your nose.

“It didn’t work, please let’s rest now. I’ll heal your hand and then rest with you”, Taehyung insists, trying to pull you away from Yoongi’s bed.

“No! No it should have worked! It, it worked on the other vampire!”

“Maybe it worked because it was regular wood.”

“No!” you yell so loud your voice bounces off the walls, “no, it should have worked! Why didn’t it work?!”

“Let’s just rest, please darling.”

“No”, you shake yourself free of his grasp, “no, why didn’t it work? It, it should have worked!” you scream, grabbing Yoongi by the collar of his shirt, “wake up, Yoongi! Please my love wake up!”

“Don’t do that. Your hands are ruined, you have to let me heal you.”

You can’t hear what Taehyung is saying. It didn’t work. After everything you did, it didn’t work.

“Please Yoongi, I’m fucking begging you, please come back to me.”

“Let’s just go”, Taehyung whispers with heartbreak in his voice. It pains him that you failed. He wanted for you to be successful. He really, really did.

“Let go of me, I have to try again. Where, where is the knife?” you fight him, crazed eyes scanning the ground, “there. No!”

Taehyung lifts you before you can bend down.

“Let me go! What’s wrong with you? Let go of me!” you protest, fighting him with nails and feet.

“You have to rest, it didn’t work and, and you are hurt”, Taehyung says.

“No Yoongi! Let me go! Yoongi please wake up, please!” you beg as you get carried away further and further.

Taehyung turns you so you couldn’t look at the bed anymore.

“Let me go! I hate you! I fucking hate you so much! Let me go!”

“I’m sorry”, Taehyung whispers shakily, swallowing down the painful sob he wants to let out.

“Yoongi, please wake up! Don’t fucking go where I can’t follow, please!” you beg, clutching the doorframe even if your fingers ache like the never ached before, “let me go!”

Taehyung wins and manages to get you out of Yoongi’s bedroom.

“Yoongi! Let me go! Yoongi!”

You lost. You lost. You lost your Yoongi. You lost.

“No”, you wail, “I want to die, I want to fucking die. Just kill me, please.”

“Please stop, please just-”, Taehyung begs only to be stopped by Hoseok screaming your names.

He appears in the doorframe a second later. Jungkook screams your name in the background, begging you to come back.

“Come back. Yoongi! Something’s happening!”

“What?” you push yourself away from Taehyung, overwhelm him and fight free. Your feet drop on the ground hard and rough, shaking you through so much that you feel dizzy as you run, “Yoongi! I’m coming!”

“___ come here, quick come here”, Jungkook stresses.

You fall into him from just how quickly you ran to the bed. But neither you nor Jungkook feel the impact, holding each other as your teary eyes are focused on Yoongi’s face. Jimin and Taehyung appear behind you a second later.

“What’s happening?” Taehyung asks.

“Holy fuck”, you press out. You can barely see what is happening as your vision becomes darker and darker. Everything aches so terribly. You feel so weak. And yet you keep looking, watching with tears streaming down your face, as Yoongi’s features morph into the healthy face you have fallen in love with. His hair changes from a dull silver to dark black, the grey of his skin becomes less and less.

“It worked”, Jungkook whispers, “holy fuck, it worked.”

His cheeks gain in softness again and his once sunken eyes move back into place. His once purple, chapped lips become the soft, pink lips you will always love to kiss.

“It worked, you-”, Jungkook stops upon seeing the state you find yourself in, “___, are you okay?”

Yoongi’s eyes open just as yours fall closed.

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abigailmoment · 7 months

Text

Astarion's hands started to move. Opening and closing. Flinching up to his chest in quick, aborted motions. Like he was trying to stop something. Starting to protect himself but but unable to complete the gesture. He made a noise. A whining complaint.

Nightmare, Tav thought. That wasn't really a surprise, given the little she knew about him. She scooted closer and reached out to shake him awake.

But then Astarion made another noise. It was so quiet Tav could barely hear it. She wouldn't have, if she hadn't moved close. It was so much softer than any sound he ever made while awake. Something halfway between a gasp and a sob. Stifled, like he was trying not to be heard.

Full text below. Full Text On AO3

-------

It was peaceful at camp. Peaceful as it only ever was in the dark hours of night when all of the powerful personalities were asleep.

Tav was ostensibly keeping watch. And she was at least keeping the woods in her peripheral vision. An observer would think she was toying with her violin. She adjusted the strings from sharp to flat and flat to sharp. She tested the tension with her fingertips, feeling the timbre of the silent notes trapped inside. But really, that was just something to do with her hands while her mind churned over her true occupation for the night: figuring out ways to diffuse the growing tension between Shadowheart and Lae'zel.

Solving interpersonal issues like that was pretty much her entire life since the Nautoloid crash. In her free time she stumbled through a crash course in wilderness survival, desperately searched for a cure for the tadpoles, and fought all the things that wanted to kill them.

(Gods, there were so many. She was never leaving Baldur's Gate again after this.)

But her main job was keeping her companions from murdering each other or having breakdowns.

Juggling her motley crew was like juggling knives. Actually scratch that. Tav had done both and the knives were undebatably easier. Because under all the surface problems this group had, all the different cultures and different values, was a simmering tension of fear. Everyone was afraid of what they were becoming. And that fear under the natural conflicts--it was like an oil spill shining under torches. A seemingly stable situation that might explode the moment someone dropped something incendiary. Like the wrong sort of comment.

So Tav managed them. She left everyone nice at camp when she was planning to buy things from the Zhentarim. She asked Astarion to steal something on the far side of the market while she, Wyll and Karlach covertly completed some hasty heroics. She minimized how much anyone but her ever talked to Lae'zel.

Gods, Lae'zel. Was she healthy for a githyanki? Tav just didn't have the context to tell. No one else was anything approaching emotionally intact. Years in hell, amnesia, pacts with demons, and broken hearts that might explode. Tav had only just started getting to know her new brain-worm-enforced social circle and she could already tell that everyone was sitting on years, or in one case apparently centuries, of extremely fraught baggage.

Baggage which they couldn't address right now because they were all busy with the very important collective job of not dying.

Tav sighed and decided to take a break from thinking. She played with her violin a bit more, but doing that was an unsatisfying tease since she couldn't play it right now. She decided to unsatisfyingly tease herself in a different way and shifted so she could stare at Astarion.

She did that sometimes while on watch because being on watch was boring and Astarion was extremely pretty and he had set the doing-creepy-things-while-we-sleep bar of their relationship extremely low when he tried to bite her. Her gaze was more appreciative than lecherous, anyway. She was an artist, and he was like some classical painting come to life. Face of perfect, pale skin drawn in sharp, eye-catching angles.

No, not a painting, she thought. More like a sculpture. He was so still while he slept. Was that an elf thing, or a vampire thing? Either way, the stillness and his pallor made it seem a bit like he might be carved from marble. Actual artwork. And the way delicate white curls framed his features looked faintly celestial.

Ha. That effect would dispelled the second he woke.

Gods, he was beautiful. Tav wasn't going to do anything about it of course. She was already juggling knives. Adding a romantic entanglement to this situation would be like setting the knives on fire. She'd just tuck these thoughts away and tell him he looked like an angel when he slept the next time he got maudlin about mirrors. That would make him laugh and cheer him right up.

As she thought and watched Astarion the statue impression fell away. Something disturbed the stillness of his not-quite-sleep. Tav watched the edges of his mouth tugging down from peaceful blankness into a frown.

Then his hands started to move. Opening and closing. Flinching up to his chest in quick, aborted motions, like he was trying to stop something. Starting to protect himself but but unable to complete the motion. He made a noise. A whining complaint.

Nightmare, Tav thought. That wasn't really a surprise, given the little she knew about him. Tav scooted closer and reached out to shake him awake.

Tav froze, barely an inch away from him. Shit. She couldn't wake him up, she realized. She absolutely couldn't wake him up.

Astarion tossed his past around like caltrops, peppering conversations with horrific details, daring her to pity him. Tav knew a thing or five about emotional manipulation, it's why she ended up managing most groups she fell in with, but before Astarion she'd never met someone who tried to demand sympathy at knife-point. Even more novel, and somewhat impressive, he actually sort of made it work.

But when he talked about his past, it was on his terms. They were only just starting to be anything more than strangers, and she already understood--that was important. It was something to do with control. Everything she learned about him had to be on his terms.

So if he knew she'd seen this, if he knew she'd stumbled in on this moment of vulnerability, if he ever guessed she heard him make that sound. It would be like a betrayal.

He'd resent. Retract. It would shatter the easy rapport she was working so hard to build with him. It wouldn't matter that this was an accident. Stray cats don't care if it was accidental when you clip them with your boot in the dark. It's as good as a kick and they never, ever trust you again.

She'd just...leave it be. Tav scuttled back from him, quietly as she could. She resolutely turned to scan the dark treeline. She was keeping watch. She was a good party member, keeping everyone safe in this thoroughly unremarkable night where nothing at all was happening. Her companions' dreams were their own business.

She listened to crickets singing. She listened to the wind sighing. She listened to the branches of the trees brush against each other as the wind played its primal sort of music with them. She listened to Astarion make another barely-there noise. A whimper that threaded on and on.

He sounded like he was actively being hurt.

Tav clenched her hands and then sat on them. She lectured herself sternly in her head. She couldn't go wake him up. She was good at reading people and all her instincts told her that would be a mistake. Even beyond how much it could fuck up their relationship, it could fuck up his coping strategies, which involved a lot of feigned indifference and pretending awful things were funny. It was hard to feign indifference when you got caught crying in your sleep. They had a temple full of traps and goblins to go through tomorrow. If her rogue was off his game it might kill someone.

The worst thing about this, she thought as she listened, was that it sounded like Astarion was trying to be in pain quietly. Trying not to draw attention to himself. Which felt very wrong. What made him do that, instinctively, while he slept?

The whimpering finally trailed off, or at least quieted the the point of being drowned out by forest sounds. That was a relief for a moment, but then Tav found she hated the silence more. It meant she didn't know what was going on. She managed to watch the treeline and pretend that everything was fine for maybe a minute. Then she gave up, turned around and checked on him.

Astarion had rolled onto his side, half off of his bedroll. His face was taught and somehow even more pale than usual. His shoulders were hunched. Like maybe his back was hurting him? His hands still moved, but the movements had lost focus. He no longer tried to ward off whatever was happening in his mind. He just twitched.

Tav got up. Being here felt like an invasion of his privacy and was also unbearable. She'd go on a patrol around the camp. By the time she got back he'd be out of this. He'd have to be. A nightmare couldn't last that long, she told herself.

She stowed her violin and had just finished belting on her rapier when she heard Astarion speak. For a moment she thought he might have roused himself, but no. His voice was vague and slurred with sleep, so much she could only clearly make out the last word:

"...please."

It was his tone that made her stop in her tracks. Astarion sounded so completely hopeless. Like the word was a perfunctory gesture. Like he knew begging wouldn't help, but he was driven to it by whatever was happening to him. Because there was nothing else to do.

Tav covered her face with her hands. She was having a lot of feelings. Most of them revolved around finding out who Astarion was talking to, in his dream, and arranging their gruesome murder. But that was a long term project. It wasn't relevant right now. She took a deep breath.

When she uncovered her face she had shifted into a different mindset. It was her problem-solving mindset. For when she needed to think fast and act precisely. For when she needed to micromanage her team to the point of shouting orders every six seconds. A mindset for when something was very wrong and needed to be attended to urgently. Like a burning building. Or an owlbear attack. Or this.

This was a problem. She would solve it. She spent all day finding creative solutions to terrible problems. She just needed to find the sneaking-past-the-lookouts-and-convincing-the-guards-you-were-supposed-to-be-here-because-the-lookouts-let-you-through solution to this emotional goblin ambush.

Begin by brainstorming. Consider the limitations: Couldn't wake him up. For stated reasons. Couldn't leave him to the nightmare. That idea was unconscionable.

Could she change the dream? Maybe tadpole brain-jump into Astarion's head and interfere with what was happening? That was fraught. On multiple levels. Call that plan C.

Maybe she could incidentally wake him? Sound a fake alarm. Adrenaline was good for clearing the head and shaking off nightmares. But...no. That would wake everyone else, and she didn't want to have to juggle everyone else.

She liked the idea of trying to interfere with his dream. She circled back to that. Could she do that without the tadpole? His responses were so visceral, she'd bet this was as much memory as it was dream. Could she subtly oust it? Change the context? Background music could dramatically change a scene--why not a dream? What's something that would be incompatible with his past? Something that he couldn't possibly have felt back when this happened to him?

She didn't know enough about his past. Vampires then. What can't vampires experience?

Running water. Dousing Astarion with water would wake him up. Not helpful.

Food? She couldn't feed him while he was asleep, and she wasn't even sure about that one.

Sunlight. That held promise. He loved the light. Turned to it like a sunflower every morning. But it was night right now.

But wait. She could fix that.

Tav took action. The thinking had taken no time at all--it never did when she was in this mindset. She hustled over to Gale's tent. He was a deep, slightly snore-y sleeper and didn't even stir. She rifled through his things. She'd given him the scrolls of they'd found in the secret laboratory, two days ago. And if she remembered right...ah! There it was. Parchment marked with a blue, starburst circle at the top. A scroll of Daylight. The power to enchant an object so that it shone with true sunlight.

Tav winced when she saw the complicated casting instructions. This was a little over her skill level. But it's not like she needed the full, shadow-monster-obliterating power of dawn. She just needed a handful of morning. She bet she could coax something out of it.

Gale had a dark-crystal ball that felt like it would be a good target. It was round like the sun, which felt right. And it wasn't too big. Tav rolled out the scroll of Daylight on the ground in front of her. She started going through the motions of the spell. Arms crossed, then sliding along each other until the backs of her hands pressed together. Then flip so her palms were together. She whispered the incantations as she pulled her palms slowly apart and felt the shiver of magic and light prickle into being between her fingers.

Halfway through the incantation Tav hit some symbols she didn't quite know how to pronounce. She just kind of hummed her way through them. The light in her hands flickered and dimmed, but she whistled a coaxing tune and it didn't quite go out. She leaned forward to press the light into the dark glass of the crystal ball.

There was a silent flare as the glass went from murky black to white. It cast a warm, pure light over Tav and Gale's tent. Even shoddily performed, the daylight was a stark contrast to the night. Tav grabbed a nearby basket, upended it in a shower of spell components, and stuffed it over the crystal ball, muting the light from afternoon to twilight.

She glanced over at the tent. She heard Gale snuffle a few times, but he didn't stir more than that. Gods bless wizards and their chronic lack of situational awareness.

Tav picked up the basket of daylight, holding it against her chest as she hustled back to Astarion.

He was entirely curled in on himself. Legs drawn up, arms folded against his chest. His face was buried in his hands, so Tav couldn't see his expression, but she could hear his teeth grinding together, clacking as molars hit long canines. Sometimes his shoulders jerked. Not flinches. More like spasms. Fucking Hells. What in the planes was he remembering?

Tav lay the basket down in front of him and drew the lip of it up so that the light crept out, spreading over the sleeping vampire. A very small dawn, just for one person.

The twitching tension did not dissipate immediately, but Astarion's hands flexed slightly away from his face. His head tilted, quizzical. Like someone listening to a new refrain in a song they thought they knew by heart. Not quite sure what it meant. Not trusting it.

Confusion was leagues better than suffering, and Tav would happily call this a success if she managed to bewilder him out of his nightmare. She lifted the basket a little more. The poorly-cast daylight spell had stabilized at gloaming dim, but the light was still sunlight. Clear and clean in that ineffable way. Astarion sighed. He seemed to be relaxing just a bit. His fingers flexed.

Then his hands shot out, rogue quick, and snatched the bauble of sun out from under the basket. The motion was so fast, Tav almost missed it in a blink. One moment the crystal ball was in her basket, the next Astarion had it cradled in his arms, clutched tightly, like the realm's strangest teddy bear.

Tav almost laughed, but stopped herself. Astarion's shoulders were relaxing more and the spasms had stopped, thank the gods. And while it was out of the basket, the way he curled around the crystal kept it from shining on anyone else. Greedy man.

Tav was filled with the deep and absurd desire to pet his head. Run her fingers very gently through his hair in soothing motions. Not now. Maybe someday. Maybe...she would reconsider her policy about juggling fire.

For now she settled back down. She had the woods in her peripheral vision again and new things to think about. Like taxing her bardic knowledge for insight about how vampires. Their culture. Their weaknesses. And how she might go about utterly destroying whoever Astarion had been dreaming about.

*** Next chapter >

***

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #ao3 #vulnerable astarion #protective tav #nightmares #nightmares about a certain poem being written #crying in the night #creative comfort #because act 1 astarion would have so much trouble accepting direct comfort

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partially-controlled-chaos · 5 months

Text

Come Back to Me pt. 3

Pairing: Astarionxf!Tav

Rating: M

Warnings: Hurt/angst, comfort, trauma, fluff, trauma, soft jealous Astarion

Summary: After an attack in the Shadow Cursed Lands, Tavriel is exposed to the toxins of fear inducing mushroom spores, causing her already weakened mind to relive the traumatic horrors of her past. Astarion and Halsin are forced to work quickly to cure her mind of the spores before the effects remain with her permanently.

Also read on AO3! Check there for more frequent updates because I sometimes forget to also post them here.

I also recommend reading my previous fic for some backstory on my Tav! Not totally necessary, but if you’d like some backstory you can find it here!

Masterlist

Come Back to Me: Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Astarion was quietly seething as he followed behind the druid, his face knitted into a tight scowl as he stepped across jagged rocks and fallen tree branches. Of all people he could be paired with on this excursion, it just had to be Halsin. He had lingered around Last Light just briefly, too consumed with worry after hearing Tavriel’s horror filled screams, while the rest of the group had already sectioned off into teams of two, leaving Astarion with Halsin as a companion. He already had a grudge against Halsin for being a threat to his relationship with Tavriel, but he also fully blamed Halsin for Tavriel being as sick as she was. If he had been a better companion, he would have kept her safe. This, of course, was simply a deflection of Astarion’s own feelings of being incompetent for Tavriel because he let her go out to begin with.

“Do you see anything, Astarion?” Halsin called back to him as he swept a torch across the landscape, “Have you found any black oleander?”

“If I had don’t you think I would have said something?” The vampire spawn sneered, his lip upturned into a snarl.

“You’ve just been unusually quiet,” Halsin said as they continued, “I was making sure you hadn’t stumbled across something. You’re sure you know what you’re looking for?”

“Of course I do! I may not be rolling around outside all day like you, but I’m not dim witted enough to not know what we’re looking for.” Truthfully, Astarion hadn’t known what black oleander even was until a few days ago, but he wouldn’t dare admit it, “And I’m not in a particularly chatty mood. My mind happens to be on other, more important, things than idle chit chat and niceties.”

“I will not blame you for your anger, Astarion. You’re worried about Tavriel. You’re a bonded pair, are you not?” Halsin asked with a laugh, taking no offense to the snippy remarks coming from the elf.

“I would be a fool to not be worried about her. She’s the only thing that actually keeps this little band together. If something happens to her, well, we’d all be lost.” Astarion’s voice had softened slightly. The thought of actually losing Tavriel felt like a knife to the chest. He’d finally found something and someone to give a damn about and the idea of her being taken down by a patch of mushrooms felt like a cruel joke sent by the gods as a continued punishment.

“Is that all you’re worried about? If she can continue to serve a purpose?” Halsin shot a sideways glance to Astarion, surprised at his response. He had seen the way Astarion would look and speak with Tavriel and it was painfully clear he had some inclination of feelings for her, so the abrupt cut to how she was useful was odd.

“No. Don’t be stupid. If you had let me finish I would have answered your question.” He snapped, “We are, if you’re so interested in knowing, but I’d like to keep the spicy little details to myself, thank you.”

“I am, actually, it’s something I wanted to speak to you about.” Halsin said as he stepped to the side of the path they were on, his eyes scanning for the plant they were after, “Look, over there off the trail, there’s a small patch of oleander.” Astarion followed the druid into the small patch of plants, being mindful not to step on the few precious ones they had managed to find.

Astarion’s stomach was suddenly in knots, Halsin’s statement setting him on edge. He was already afraid of losing Tavriel to Halsin. After all, Halsin did seem much more compatible than he did at fulfilling Tavriel’s needs and desires. When compared to the druid, Astarion felt inferior. Halsin had his share of trauma in his past he was sure, but whatever it was, it couldn’t come close to the baggage he was bringing in his relationship to Tavriel. Centuries of using sex and deception to lure unsuspecting victims to the Szarr palace only to surrender them as a quick meal for his master certainly must have weight heavily on Tav, would it not? His trauma was so similar to Tavriel’s that he was always afraid that his past and hesitations would be unwelcome reminders of her own life of misery.

But of course, Astarion knew that it didn’t end there. He and Tavriel were so fundamentally different that he was surprised she had shared his enthusiasm for wanting a real relationship all those months ago. After all, he was bitter and mean spirited, not often caring about the well being of others. Purely selfish actions for purely selfish reasons had always been his style and he genuinely didn’t see that changing anytime soon. Tavriel, on the other hand, had displayed selfish actions herself when they first met, later admitting she had engaged in a romance with Astarion for the same reasons he had. With that aside, Tavriel was generally a good hearted person who had unselfish actions for unselfish reasons. They were polar opposites and yet had somehow found themselves attracted to each other through a history of trauma bonding and a mind flayer tadpole wiggling about their brains.

But Halsin? Halsin was a good man. He had spent a century of putting his own needs and desires aside to address the issue of the Shadow Curse. He was kind, especially to Tavriel, always greeting her with a warm smile and friendly embrace. He truly cherished her friendship and the help she had so selflessly offered to him, a total stranger. Astarion knew Halsin had an attraction to her, he could see it all over his face whenever Tavriel came bounding over to him with that pretty smile on her lips he oh, so adored. Halsin had the capacity to understand Tavriel in ways that Astarion couldn’t even fathom. They both had an innate connection to nature and if anyone could help her regain the connection she had lost in captivity, it wouldn’t take a scholar to know that Halsin was clearly the better match.

“Grab as much as you can, we’ll need more for the remedy to be fully effective, but we should collect all of this if something goes wrong.” Halsin said as he crouched, using his torch to illuminate the area and chase away any lingering shadows. Astarion also crouched to the ground, quickly cutting and securing the richly purple plants into his travel pouch.

“You’re sure this isn’t enough? How complex is this concoction of yours?”

“No,” Halsin said as he pulled the last plant from the cursed land, “we’ll need more. She needs a potent dose if we intend to cure her fully.” This made Astarion’s heart drop once again. Halsin had been so calm leading up to this point, making Astarion believe that despite Tavriel’s behavior, curing her would be seemingly simple.

“…She’s worse than you’re letting on, isn’t she?” Astarion asked quietly as they continued their search for black oleander.

“I didn’t want to alarm the others, the last thing we need is for everyone to be in a blind panic, but yes, I am worried. I’ve seen many friends and allies fall victim to the spores, but I’ve never seen them set in so quickly. We will truly need the Oak Father’s blessing if this is to work.” Astarion gripped his torch tightly at Halsin’s confession, his pace quickening as his eyes desperately scanned the ground for more of the plants. They had to hurry and collect what they needed to return to Tav. He could only pray that his companions also found their plants and herbs with haste.

“There, by those rocks, I see much more.” Astarion pointed to a cluster of large rocks, their base littered with the plants he so desperately wanted to find. The two men wasted no time in gathering more of the herbs, pausing only briefly to scan their surroundings as shrieks from the shadows kicked up. Deeming there was no longer a threat, they continued ripping the plants from the ground.

“What did you want to discuss with me? About Tavriel?” Astarion asked after a few moments of silence, his mind unable to let the comment leave his mind.

“I was curious about your feelings towards her, and ultimately your relationship, because I wanted to know if I should ask for your consent.” Astarion froze, hands unmoving as he held a firm grip on the base of an oleander plant.

“My consent?” he asked through gritted teeth and fangs, “Consent for what, exactly?”

“For something more.” Halsin said calmly, “To go beyond the fabric of a simple alliance and friendship and into something more…intimate. If you would be all right with that, of course. I wish not to step on any toes.”

“Are you asking me if she could cast me aside? And replace my spot with you? Is that what you’re saying?” Astarion’s voice almost went up an octave as he felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him, his worst fears regarding Tavriel materializing in front of him.

“Of course not, that is not my intention. I mean to join the two of you, if you would be open to it, and carry on a union as nature intended. Without the restrictions of societal norms and expectations for a relationship to only be two people. Tavriel is extraordinary, a true delight and a kind soul, and she has unknowingly shaken me to my core. I would like to share, not take away. But if anything were to happen, I would need your approval. Whether you personally want to join us or not is up to you, depending on what you are comfortable with, and her as well. You have become her mate, so to speak, and I would not wish to intrude if it’s not something you are comfortable with.” Halsin had paused his plant collection, taking the time to look at Astarion carefully as he spoke, wanting to broach the subject without seeming too nonchalant about it.

“Not now, of course, I must finish the matter of the Shadow Curse before I can even begin to entertain such notions, but I wanted to put my offer on the table, figuratively speaking. So my intentions are not misunderstood by either of you. I had begun to run this by Tavriel right before we were attacked.” Astarion’s mind was spinning. This was something he had been fearing for a long time, but was also something he had hoped was only a deep rooted fear that would never come to fruition. And yet, here he was, kneeling in dirt beside the man that could easily take away his entire world.

Astarion didn’t care about a persons sexual preference or how they wanted to be in a relationship, it didn’t matter to him. Halsin wanting a multi-partner relationship wasn’t what was so upsetting to him. What was potentially world shattering, however, is that Halsin wanted to be in a multi-partner relationship with the one person Astarion wanted to be selfish about. He had finally found someone he could be free and open with. He was comfortable around Tavriel, relished in her kindness and warmth, and he wanted to keep that all to himself. He felt a burning rage deep inside at the thought of someone else knowing her intimately. The idea of someone else feeling her kind and gentle lips pressing against various parts of their body made him squirm. Or, which could arguably be his worst fear, if she experiences mind blowing, back arching, shaking, orgasmic pleasure from someone who wasn’t him. He didn’t fully appreciate their moments of passion when they first met, having only done it to secure protection, but he was beginning to once again open up to the idea and he didn’t want anyone else to dip into that fantasy. Astarion wanted to be unapologetically selfish with the first genuinely good thing to come into his life. However, if Tavriel felt otherwise and wanted more than what he alone could offer, he wouldn’t stop her. She had been through as much pure hell as he had and he would feel wrong if he kept her from being truly happy for the simple sake of him wanting to keep her to himself.

“And what did she say? What was her answer to your little question?” Astarion could feel his hands begin to shake, genuinely terrified of what Halsin might say next.

“She didn’t,” Halsin said plainly as he continued to pull plants, “we were attacked before she could respond. I couldn’t tell you her answer, it’s something that will have to be addressed after she is cured.”

“Well,” Astarion said after some silence, “I have absolutely no intentions of joining in on your little group party. However, if Tavriel wishes to join your side as well as mine, I won’t stop her. She deserves to be happy, the world hasn’t been kind to her if you didn’t know, and I will not be the one thing that stands in her way.”

“If you truly mean it, my heart is happy and appreciative. Again, this will not be something that happens soon, I have more important things that need to be taken care of than desires of the flesh, but the offer will always be open to you. I will talk to Tavriel again once she is better. That should be our first priority, curing her.” Halsin stood as he and Astarion picked the last of the plants that were needed for the remedy, “Let’s return to the inn, we have what we came for. May the Oak Father guide the others back as well with a fruitful harvest.”

The two men set off towards Last Light without another word spoken between them. Halsin was walking with a purpose, eager to return to the inn and get the remedy for the fear spores in the pot. Astarion, who was also rushing to return to Tavriel, was distraught. He was thankful they were able to find the required items without much hassle, but the potential of losing Tavriel in more ways than one was sitting heavily on his mind. He desperately wanted to know what Tavriel’s answer to Halsin’s offer would have been. He wanted to know what she was thinking and where her heart was going. He hurriedly walked to the inn with Halsin, his fingers digging into his palm as he walked.

************************************************************************

“We have everything.” Halsin said as he and the rest of the party filed in the front door of Last Light Inn and handed their collected ingredients to the arch druid, “Give me a few moments to brew these into a tea. I’ll bring it up to her when it’s done. Can someone check on her? I no longer hear her and it’s concerning.” Astarion wasted no time in departing from the group, practically flying up the stairs in the process. If his heart could beat, it would be pounding in his ears. When they had left the inn, Tavriel could be heard from the courtyard. But now? There was silence.

Astarion gently pressed his ear to the door of the bed chambers he shared with Tavriel, listening for any sounds from inside, but was met with an uncomfortable silence. He tried the handle, finding it had been locked from the inside, presumably to slow Tav down if she tried to dart out the door in her altered state. After a soft knock, Lae’zel opened the door, cautiously glancing back to Tavriel to be sure she didn’t charge the door before allowing Astarion in. He quickly slipped inside, making sure to secure the door behind him. The state of the room caught him off guard, making him freeze on the spot as he surveyed the damage.

Jagged fingernail marks along the wooden floor, books that had been thrown across the room, the center carpet was crumpled and shoved to the side, and even broken glass from a wine bottle that had been smashed against a wall. Astarion had cleaned the room before Tavriel and Halsin returned, wanting her to return to a safe space, but the work was undone seemingly by Tavriel herself. Small spots of Tavriel’s blood were scattered across the room, dripping from her destroyed fingertips and other scratches she had inflicted upon herself. Tavriel herself was seated in the center of the room, resting on her knees and shins, her hands pressed to the floor as her arms struggled to support her upper body. She was mostly silent, the only sounds being emitted where slow shallow breaths and the occasional whimper. Her eyes were half lidded, ready to close at any given moment and succumb to a deep sleep. Her mind and body were absolutely exhausted from her actions and Astarion feared that she wouldn’t have the strength to fight the spores much longer.

“How long has she been like this?” Astarion asked as Lae’zel returned to her previous spot on the floor across from Tavriel.

“Not very long. She’s been scrambling about and destroying anything she could find until a few moments ago. She’s weakening. Did you find the herbs?” Lae’zel asked hopefully.

“Yes, thankfully,” Astarion said as he crouched, trying to get a closer look at Tavriel’s face, “Halsin is preparing a remedy now.” He reached out carefully, almost afraid she may snap at his fingers. He gently placed his hand under her chin, lifting her heavy head until her fully clouded eyes met his gaze. Tavriel’s face was stained with tears and her skin was hot to the touch, even for his perpetually cool fingers.

She looked as if she was a step from death’s door and Astarion felt his chest ache. He felt so unbelievably helpless, unable to do anything to help his love from slipping away. He was reliant on someone else for her salvation, and the idea made him sick to his stomach. Over the years under Cazador’s control, Astarion only ever needed to rely on himself to stay as safe as a vampire spawn could be. Relying on someone was a weakness and it took the little bit of control he did have away from him. The feeling here was no different. Having to rely on Halsin to get a working antidote into Tavriel before everything was too late made him uneasy and on edge. With a slight delay, Tavriel pulled her head from Astarion’s light grasp, the movement making her lose her balance and falter in her stance. She landed on her forearms with a soft grunt, her legs sliding out from underneath her until she was almost face down on the floor. She weakly tried to back away, the voices in her head still screaming that she was in danger, but her body wouldn’t allow her to move. Instead, she rested on her arms and took more labored breaths.

“Where in the hells is the damn druid?” Astarion hissed as he sat back, his anger caused by his inability to actually help started to seep out.

“I will check on him. Stay with her, she seems to have calmed down enough.” Lae’zel stood without another word, quickly exiting the room to speak with Halsin, leaving Astarion and Tavriel to themselves. They sat in silence, Tavriel too weak to say anything and Astarion too afraid of driving her further into madness with his touch or voice. He dug his nails into his palm again as he clenched his fist closed, feeling more and more incompetent the more time that passed.

“Tell me what to do, love.” He whispered as Tavriel let out a small groan as she shifted again, “Tell me how to help you. I don’t know what to do. I need you to come back to me, but tell me how. You promised me you would come back, my love, you promised.” Tears began to well in his eyes, threatening to fall down his face as he watched her writhe in pain and mental agony. Tavriel’s body ached from slamming into doors and scratching her fingers raw. The scars that adorned her body were throbbing, feeling as if they were being made for the first time again. Her breathing quickened as fire seemed to be burning through the scars on her shoulder blades, the pain almost unbearable as her mind twisted and warped, forcing her to relive that horrible night. With a sudden burst of energy, she sat up, almost throwing herself backwards as her hands reached over her shoulders to claw at the marks on her back, her armor thankfully keeping her from digging into the flesh. She tried her best to scream at the memory, but her voice was raw and hoarse, causing only more discomfort.

“Godsdamn it, Cazador was right, you are useless. Pathetic. Weak. You can’t save her.” Astarion thought to himself as the tears forming came dangerously close to falling. His insecure thoughts came flooding back with full force, further twisting the pain settling in his dead heart. He didn’t know what to do or how to save her by himself. She deserved so much better care than what she was getting from him. She deserved someone that wasn’t weak and cowering, afraid to even touch her when she was begging for help. He truly believed he didn’t deserve someone as wonderful and extraordinary as Tavriel and she deserved someone so much better. She deserved someone would keep her safe and satisfied. Halsin was downstairs now, making a concoction that would ease her mind and suffering, something that can heal her. He immediately knew what needed to be done to save her, where to go, what plants were needed, and how to sew those plants into something useful. Halsin could protect her. Halsin could keep her safe. And yet, here was Astarion, sitting as still as a stone as his lover screamed in agony and fear. His vile thoughts continued to bombard his mind as he sat and watched Tavriel suffer.

Astarion was frozen with fear, truly not knowing what to do to help. He was afraid to touch her, fearing that his touch would alight her skin more and cause more suffering. The tears that lined his eyes finally betrayed him, sliding down his cheeks as Tavriel’s own sobs assaulted his ears. She was trembling, her entire body almost convulsing as she continued to rake her sore and bloodied fingers across the armor. She was frenzied in her movements, completely unrecognizable as the Tavriel that Astarion had grown to love. Against his own trepidations, he reached out with a shaking arm, hoping that making contact with her could pull her from the memory. However, the moment was short lived and his extended hand came back to clutch at his own head, which was now swimming with an uncomfortable twinge. The tadpole swimming around in his brain had made contact with the one infecting Tavriel, linking their minds. Astarion’s consciousness was thrust into the absolute chaos that was swimming in Tavriel’s fracturing mind, allowing him to see inside her memories and granting him access to the nightmare she was reliving.

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