#It might just be a fluff chapter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lightseoul · 2 months ago

Text

CHAPTER 2 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 3.8k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), some cussing, adult themes (not smut lol) (yet) (jk) (unless...), the mission finally starts, so much plot from here on out y'all so buckle up

a/n. i didn't get to include the most important bits that were supposed to be presented in this chapter because i got carried away with the buildup lol. exciting times ahead y'all. i have so much in store for you with this series. don't be a stranger and let's talk!

links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)

You can only stare back at the woman peering at you, her face painted with a thick layer of makeup, her hair styled to staged ‘effortless’ perfection, and her body wrapped in an outfit that’s equal parts provocative and refined.

Her image is so flawlessly curated—so much so that you barely notice the apprehension that’s hidden amidst her features, if it weren’t for the fact that that woman is you.

You can barely recognize yourself—and perhaps that’s the point of all this.

Asahi and Moriyama didn’t have to explicitly state it yesterday—they need you to put in every ounce of effort to make sure that you succeed, and that includes doing everything you can to supplement your quirk all the while keeping your real identity lowkey.

Even if it means looking like this.

You’re about to give in to your second thoughts and change out of the black, low-cut tank and beige cardigan you have on when an array of knocks echo from what you think is your front door, and you freeze.

With a cautious glance at your bedroom’s wall clock, you think you’re supposed to feel a wave of relief wash over you when you see that it’s 9:00 PM on the dot, the exact time Bakugou said he’d pick you up, which means no villain or mal intentioned person is at your front porch, but that doesn’t come.

Instead, the sense of dread that’s been stirring in your gut ever since you got swept by Asahi’s men yesterday only magnifies, leaving you a bit cold and…are you shaking?

You don’t get to dwell on that, though, because another round of rapping resonates from your foyer again, which somehow pulls you out of your nervous stupor. You hurriedly run to the door, not even bothering to check through the peephole, opening it with a turn of the knob to see Bakugou.

Wearing a white face mask and decked in a fitting black hoodie, with his ash-blonde hair peeking through the sides of a dark baseball cap.

His fist is frozen mid-air as he stares at you, eyes slightly widened in shock, as if he didn’t believe you’re capable of this thing called punctuality. He promptly brings it down, though, schooling his expression into a neutral one, but not before giving you a quick once-over.

“Hey,” he offers, voice gruff and way lower than you remembered it back in high school.

“Hello,” you counter, looking back at your messy apartment out of habit. “I’m almost done. I just need to grab my purse.”

And, because you genuinely need to know for the sake of what you’re about to do, you ask: “Do I look okay?”

He must’ve not been anticipating that question, because his eyebrows furrow ever so minutely like you just caught him off guard. “Yeah,” he eventually replies after studying the entire length of your body once again.

And, you may have just imagined it, but you swear to god his eyes linger on your chest for a beat longer than necessary before he meets your gaze.

“You clean up…” he pauses, like he’s grasping for the right adjective, before settling with: “…decent.”

At that, you feel yourself deflate a bit. Maybe you wanted a more affirming answer, definitely not because you want that from him, but because you need to look good. However, if there’s anything the rumor mill told you back when you were still teenage students, it’s that Bakugou Katsuki was a man of few words when he was serious, let alone appreciative, so you take his comment in stride.

Besides, in comparison to how you looked yesterday, anything is an improvement, really.

“Thanks,” you respond, and you debate for a second whether or not to say the next thing but ultimately decide on it. “…And you look mildly disguised.”

That seems to ruffle Bakugou’s feathers. “Mildly?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling unsure about your honesty. “I get the hoodie and the cap and the face mask, but there’s no hiding your hulking frame, man.”

And really, there isn’t. How are you supposed to conceal a torso as large as that?

You gesture to his chest and shoulder area for further emphasis. “I don’t think you can pass up as a regular citizen but like as a non-descript athlete, maybe?”

To your dismay, Bakugou merely grunts before shaking his head. “This’ll work.”

Apparently already over your suggestion, he glances past your shoulder as he shifts his weight on his other foot. “Can you grab your purse now? We’ve to get going.”

Now, you’ve got half a mind to argue and try to convince him that maybe going for a better disguise is better in the long run but you’re silenced by his domineering gaze. So instead, you nod before rushing back to your bedroom and grabbing the bag you already prepared beforehand, as well as your phone that’s charging on top of your bedside table.

Although it won’t be of much use later, or in the coming few weeks, if everything goes according to plan.

“Ready?” he asks when you return to the doorway with your things in tow.

“Yup,” you retort as you lock the door behind you, and just like that, you’re well on your way to a potential death sentence.

You’re in the elevator going down to the ground floor by the time he speaks up again. “We’re commuting,” he starts, not looking at you but instead scrutinizing the barely hanging on floor buttons. “Can’t risk raising suspicion by driving there.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” you ask just as the elevator dings, signifying your arrival.

The doors burst open, and he steps out. “You’ll see.”

The commute to wherever the hell it is you two are going is quiet.

Bakugou didn’t divulge any further details as you stepped out of your building, wordlessly ordering you with a stern look to just follow. Frankly, you don’t like how you’re being kept in the dark, but you don’t contend. You’re acutely aware that you have a limited number of cards to play with Bakugou, and you have to play them right, if you want to even survive this mission without your partnership falling apart and jeopardizing the entire thing. Wasting a card on stupid information would be downright foolish on your end.

Even the walk to the bus stop is silent, and so is the entire ride. Despite it being quite late into the evening, the vehicle is still somewhat crowded, which you chalk up to it being a Friday night. You find yourself relaxing in your seat as the realization dawns on you—perhaps there was no point in getting too riled up about getting noticed.

And besides, you’re taking extra precautions, too. You’re not sitting next to each other, because he’s trying to stave off attention while you’re straining to catch it. Maybe not of these strangers, but of the people you’re going to meet later on.

Roughly 10 minutes and a short subway ride later, you climb up the underground stairs to a stop you vaguely remember hearing from your coworkers about. You recall how she described an old party district right in the middle of Musutafu, and sure enough, the text on the street signs match the name she recounted during one of your lunch breaks.

“Over here,” Bakugou calls out from a few feet ahead of you. You quickly quit your observing and follow suit, mindful of keeping an appropriate, not at all questionable distance between the two of you.

After what felt like walking five blocks from the subway, you see Bakugou halt and make a left into a poorly lit alleyway. You hesitate for a second, having been on autopilot and going straight for the last how many minutes. You’re able to swiftly gather yourself, though, steering in the same direction.

The moment that you do, it instantly registers to you that you’re not just in the party district anymore. If the dingy signages and the palpable seediness of the alley are any indication, you’re most likely in the red-light district now.

Suddenly, everything feels a bit too real, and you barely catch yourself stumbling back on your feet. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou, who instinctively moves to reach out for you from where he’s standing. He pauses, though, when you’re able to regain your bearings with a slightly embarrassed smile.

“Sorry,” you offer meekly.

He eyes you with the very same inexplicable expression from before. “You good?”

You’re not about to tell him you’re scared shitless, so you give him a half-hearted nod. Turning to study the exterior of the small building, you take in the lightly peeling paint and the booming music emanating from it. “This the place?”

“Yes,” he answers without missing a beat. “Are you sure you’re good?”

You whip to look back at Bakugou, who, if you didn’t know any better, is now looking apprehensive.

You decide then and there that you have to get your shit together.

Bravery is contagious, but so is fear.

For a second, you contemplate using your quirk on yourself to calm your nerves down, but eventually decide against it. There are much bigger fish to fry tonight, and what’s the point of learning all those damned breathing and grounding techniques if you’re not going to use them?

“I’m ready,” you finally tell him after a moment of both of you standing there. “Let’s go in before we start looking unusual out here.”

If Bakugou notices the unease you’re sure you’re radiating, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he gives you a curt nod, before turning to open the door.

And when he does, you’re almost instantaneously flooded by the music that was just escaping through the cracks and crevices of the run-down building. You fight the instinct to cover your ears as you step into the large room behind Bakugou, eyes quickly darting all over the place to drink in the scene before you.

Right in the back of the space is a stage that extends in the center as a runway to the middle of the room. The orange and pink mood lights illuminating the area are relatively dim minus the bulbs lining the set and walkway. And, beneath the elevated platform are what have to be pleather seats littered all over the floor—all of which are occupied by decidedly rambunctious men.

You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose as their boisterous laughter fills your ears, opting to face Bakugou instead.

“Hey,” you call out to him, who stops in his tracks to look at you. You sneak a glance at the people at the bar nearest the two of you, just to make sure they’re not listening in, before you continue. “Are you sure this is the place?”

You don’t have to peek beneath his mask to know he’s now scowling at you.

“What am I, a dumbass? I told you, this is it.” He then shifts away from you, far enough that you barely hear his next words. “…It has to be.”

Well.

That’s not exactly comforting.

Your discomfort only heightens when the already faint lights dim further, and the music switches from a pop song to which you know a bit of the lyrics to a rap that, if you were to base it on the first phrase, is all about having explicit, unprotected sex. The crowd of men cheers in anticipation, and as if on cue, a woman dressed in nothing but a two-piece lingerie emerges from the back of the stage, confirming your speculation of what the place is.

A strip club.

You watch as the woman confidently struts towards the center, and apparently, you’re no better than any of the men here because your gaze slowly roves over her slim and toned body, eyes catching at her cleavage that’s leaving nothing to the imagination. You can’t help it—you look down at your own chest, sinking in disappointment at the contrast before promptly looking up in embarrassment, only to find Bakugou studying you closely.

“It’s a strip club,” you blurt out, flustered at getting caught in the act. His eyes only narrow in a way that tells you what you’re already telling yourself: Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, much to your relief, only moving to the far corner of the room where there are miraculously two seats unoccupied. You follow him with no further questions asked, plopping in the chair to his right, thankful you’re wearing black trousers so that your skin doesn’t have to go into contact with the sticky furniture.

You take the opportunity to clock the rest of the room, cataloguing the bar at the other end of the area near the entrance where a barista is swiftly taking and making orders all at the same time, while the men seated on the stools struggle to decide whether to look at the man or at the stripper now performing an elaborate dance around the pole. Amidst the decorated wall adjacent to the bar is a door with a restroom sign on it, and you squint just enough to see it’s only one stall for everyone. You make a mental note to hold in your pee, at least until you get out of here.

And, because you’re feeling nice, you shift to regard Bakugou with a good-natured smile on your face. “I hope you peed right before leaving your house.”

“What?” he says loud enough for you to hear him over the noise they’re calling music. “I can’t hear you.”

“Shit, right.” You lean in ever so minutely, and Bakugou mirrors you. You try to ignore the new-found proximity. “I said,” you repeat, with a little more volume this time, “I hope you peed right before fetching me. I bet the toilet’s filthy as shit.”

To your delight, not that you’d admit that to him in this lifetime, Bakugou smirks at your little quip after confirming the lone comfort room with his own eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, princess,” he starts, and you stiffen at the nickname, “I’m not the one who has to sit on one.”

You’re about to retort with something along the lines of what if he has to poop out of the blue, or at least try to, because the pet name has you gagged against your better judgment, when a ridiculously tall man clad in all black appears out of nowhere, startling you.

“The f—”

“Dynamight,” the behemoth of a guy cuts you off, eyes trained on the pro-hero beside you and completely ignoring your presence. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“Took you long enough to approach me,” Bakugou sneers, oozing with the confidence you can’t find within yourself right now. “I hate sleazy places like this.”

To that, the man only bows his head slightly, face solemn but devoid of remorse. You watch him as his eyes finally drift to you, albeit for only a split second, before looking back at Bakugou. “Follow me, sir.”

The ash blonde does so, perhaps a tiny bit begrudgingly, and you speedily get up along with him. The two men turn to move, and you’re about to take a step closer towards their direction when a long arm shoots up in front of you, keeping you in place.

Any protests die in your throat when you look up and see the guy’s menacing glare.

“If you don’t mind,” he grits through his teeth, “Only Dynamight is needed.”

“She’s with me,” comes Bakugou’s commanding tone. You chance a glance at the pro-hero, whose countenance is so serious you’d be afraid if you were the one he’s talking to.

“But, sir—”

“It’s the two of us or we’re leaving,” Bakugou demands.

The two engage in a stare down which you witness for what feels like a few minutes before the man finally looks away, frustration etched across his intimidating features. He glares at you once more, as if you’re the one who’s insisting on being Bakugou’s plus one, and you’re about to be convinced that he’s mentally chanting a spell to make you disappear when he gestures for you to follow him with a flick of a head.

You gradually release the breath you didn’t know you were holding as you shadow them as they enter one of the doors on the wall perpendicular to where you were just stationed. It leads to a staircase that swerves in the middle, and you lock eyes with Bakugou as he makes the turn ahead of you. Neither of you says a word, opting to keep on trailing the man, even as you land on the second floor, which looks more and more like a prostitution den.

Once again, your conjecture is confirmed as you walk down the hallway and past several sets of doors on both sides, from which emanate a cacophony of sensual moans and groans. You wonder what Bakugou’s thinking right now, although you can’t get a read on him as you can only observe his backside.

Finally, after what seems like a tortuous eternity, the man stops right in front of the door at the end of the hallway, and you pause right behind him.

He looks back at Bakugou and you with what you’re pretty sure is caution, before knocking on the door twice, and then another two times but in rapid succession.

“Come in,” is what the muffled voice on the other side says.

And so you do.

You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting, because you’ve never actually been in a service room before, but you at least anticipated a bed on which certain…activities can be done.

But what you’re met with instead seems to be a refurbished lounge room with floor-to-ceiling brick walls, black and red quilted couches, and a bar at the far side all lit up with moody orange lighting.

And smack dab in the middle of it—sprawled so languidly all over the furniture—are three individuals.

Three individuals who immediately look at Bakugou.

It’s them, alright. You don’t need your extensive training in reading people to know that these are the ones you came all the way here for.

You quickly take note of their appearances. The seemingly old man who has to be in his late 50s is seated—quite relaxed—in one of the scarlet solo chairs. He’s slim, bordering on frail, but the glint in his eye as he peers at Bakugou tells you that it’d be unwise to rule him out as one of your main threats.

Juxtaposing his age which is further revealed by his shoulder-length salt and pepper hair is the young woman plastered on the couch adjacent to his.

Or maybe ‘woman’ is a bit too generous…

It’s not obvious at first glance, but you immediately notice how some of her body parts appear to be outright robotic in the literal sense. Perhaps it’s her long, pin-straight, jet-black hair that softens her entire look, but there’s no mistaking what seems to be an artificial left eye, a metallic right arm, and angled, silver lips. She’s wearing long pants so there’s no telling which other parts of her are made up of what you think is steel, but the ones visible to you already tell you enough.

And then there’s the third and last man, who, in comparison to the other two, is remarkably…plain.

There isn’t an air of age-induced wisdom around him, nor is there anything peculiar about his body. He looks like just about any other 40-year-old-ish Japanese man you know, with short black hair, an unassuming face, and semi-formal clothes that are quite loose on his not-buff but not exactly thin body either.

But to your surprise, it’s him that the hilariously huge guy from earlier directly reports to.

“Pro-hero Dynamight, sir, as you requested. And…” the ‘escort’ trails off, and for a split second, you feel kind of sorry you’re here and making things complicated for him. “…he brought company.”

“Finally,” the plain-looking man pipes up from his seat, and even his voice is generic. “And here we thought you were never going to come meet us.”

Placing what suspiciously looks like a glass of whiskey on the table in front of him, the man shifts to fully regard Bakugou. “I see that you’ve deciphered the messages we’ve been sending you?”

“No shit,” comes Bakugou’s blunt response, and for a beat, you seriously consider using your quirk on him to make him calm the fuck down.

You decide against it.

To your chagrin, he drones on. “Y’all gotta do better. That was barely even a code.”

At that, the old male barks out a laugh while the plain-looking man only chuckles. “Of course, we expect nothing less from the #2 pro-hero. But…” the latter trails off, eyes finally landing on you. You quickly put on the most endearing smile you can muster, suddenly regretting not touching up your makeup upon sitting earlier. Thankfully, though, he smiles back, before redirecting his focus back on Bakugou.

“I see you brought precious cargo. Is there any reason why she’s here with us?”

“We want in your organization,” Bakugou replies without hesitation. “The both of us.”

And when none of them say anything in response, Bakugou presses.

“You need me, right? I heard you’re planning an attack. I want to join.”

“Yes,” the old man finally speaks up, not even denying it yet his voice is riddled with misplaced humor. “We do, in fact, need you. But what use do we have of this girl?”

“She’s got a useful quirk,” Bakugou supplies, before turning to look at you and then back at them. “Luck. She boosts the success rate of anyone she works with.”

“Luck?” the old geezer says back so incredulously, you feel your eye twitch in annoyance. If he only knew what you were fully capable of. He can’t, though, if you want to get out of this entire situation alive. “I don’t think we’ll need that as long as we have you, boy.”

“Well, tough luck,” spews Bakugou, a little bit too sarcastically for your comfort. “Because, as I’ve told your little lackey here,” he gestures to the definitely not little guy from earlier, “It’s both of us or I’m out.”

“The both of you, huh?” muses the plain-looking man who’s seeming to be more and more like the leader of the group by the second.

Once again, silence envelopes the room when none of them utter a single word, with you and Bakugou watching in anxious (you) and impatient (him) anticipation. You observe their facial expressions as they have a wordless exchange, and judging by how the ancient and the robotic girl are looking at the ordinary man, you guess your hunch about him is right.

Eventually, they appear to reach an agreement, and the leader adjusts just enough to look at the both of you directly.

You brace yourself with bated breath.

He flashes you a modest smile.

“It’s a deal, then.”

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses | @junehasnotbeenfound @sugalarity @haechansbbg @sikuthealien @reiniella3 @ita606 @xoxoblueyy @mutsu422 @eyesforbkg @kalulakunundrum @venus-xxoo @lemuhr @pinkpantheris @ashers-playpen @bakugouswh0r3 @certaindreampost @3ve88 @tsumuus @4acoffee @anonymity-222 @lousypotatoes | @matchat3a @harryzcherry @h0nestly-though @cc1306 @gold24fish @bakukags @zennypiee @wannabewolf @kameko-ko @lovra974 @arc6021 @kooromin @surprisemodafakas @ilovedenk-i @st4ntwic3 @j1tterbugaboo @call-memissbrightside @arael-asuka @bakugosgothhoe

#btw just a friendly reminder to pls be nice esp when asking to be included in the tag list!#maintaining it is quite taxing and it doesn't help when people are not exactly kind about it and/or disappear entirely after requesting :')#depending on how high-maintenance it gets i might scrap it tho #anw pls enjoy this chapter! i worked hard on this <3 #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #mha imagines #bnha imagines #mha scenarios #bnha scenarios #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n

468 notes · View notes

its-jaytothemee · 8 months ago

Text

Until I Met You - Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Forged in Fire

Pairings: Halsin x Tav

Word count: 4,709

Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.

Read on AO3

Previous Next

Summary: Our heroes make one last trip into Grymforge to find the adamantine forge. Karlach and Halsin stay behind to make sure her engine doesn't overheat again. Part 19 of the slow burn fic. Tav and Halsin POVs.

Tags: Slow burn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual love confessions, eventual smut, angst, implied past rape/non-con and abuse, graphic description of injuries, brief suicidal thoughts.

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Astarion since he insisted on stepping in the lava CONSTANTLY during this playthrough. One more chapter to go before we move to act 2 and it will be up shortly! Thanks so much for continuing to read and for the fun comments, I've really enjoyed reading through them!

Wandering around Grymforge again brought back too many memories. The Sharran armor and weapons, the details of captured Harpers. Many of the journals and notes she found detailed the torture of her former allies, bringing her hatred of the wicked goddess to a simmer in the back of her mind. Records of those imprisoned here crept into her mind throughout the day. She and Shadowheart had been even more tense than usual during their time here.

Nymla Gharis, half-elf, Harper captain. Refuses to give up the location of their leader. But we will break her.

Tav shuffled around in a hazy stupor, it was as if she could hear the screams still echoing off these tainted walls. She could hear the sharp snap of whips, the subtle tearing of flesh with knives and saws, the crack of bone under heavy blows. How many of her allies had met their terrible end here?

Wood elf, male, low ranking. Likely has little information of worth to share. Will continue questioning.

Shadowheart was flourishing, feeling close to her dark and twisted goddess, excited at the prospect of learning more about the Dark Justiciars that fell here. She took every opportunity to stop and offer quick prayers to Shar. And now, she even wore the armor of a Dark Justiciar. They had found one set that was still intact among the fallen and Shadowheart cleaned it up to replace her basic chainmail. The armor looked exactly as she remembered it all those years ago when her arrows were finding the weak spots at the neck, just beneath the arm, the inner thigh…

“Tav?” Gale whispered. “Are you alright?”

She realized she had started crying, and her face must have been bright red judging by the heat she felt rising under her skin.

“Hm? Oh, yes. I’m fine.” She wiped the tears from her eyes and forced her attention back to the task at hand. Or at least she tried. Every soft clink of Shadowheart’s new armor kept threatening to drag the memories back.

Tav saw her loathing mirrored in Halsin at camp. The two elves made a point not to sit too close to Shadowheart around the fire. Lunari helped with that, given her fear of wolves.

Human, cleric of Selûne, missing one finger, stinks of silver moon magic. Will remove more digits to draw information. Punishment should be severe and excruciating for her choice in worship.

Their party had combed through the stronghold, hoping to find a working moonlantern and a path to the adamantine forge. They had already fought off a couple more duergar slavers that were whipping a group of deep Rothé senseless, a group of acid oozes, and they talked a gnome down from martyrdom to leave them all blessedly unexploded. But still no moonlantern.

She continued leading her group through the dark hall, the bodies from their previous encounters left a burning, necrotic stench in the air. The noxious fumes made her stomach churn as she hurried past the worst of them. They stumbled upon more skeletons strewn about the ground, once again dressed in armor bearing Shar’s symbol.

“Well, hello!” Astarion shoved part of the armor aside, revealing a mold for some type of armor. “Another mold for the forge.”

“Let’s bring it along and we’ll see what we can make.” Tav held her bag open for him to stash it away. They had already gathered several other molds for various weapons and armor.

Just past the chamber where they faced Nere, she spotted another overlook that they had missed before. At the top sat a small stone slab with three different levers.

“Hmm, it would probably be best if we don’t start pulling random levers until we’re sure of their purpose.” Gale had one hand rubbing his chin as he lost himself in his thoughts.

“According to the notes we found on the drow, the forge should be just up ahead.” Tav looked ahead over the river of lava flowing beneath them.

“Yes, but how to traverse this crevasse?” Gale took a few steps back to take in more of their surroundings. His fingers stroked his beard as he considered their options.

“Look up there.” Shadowheart pointed to a few platforms suspended above them. “The tracks appear to run across the entire chamber. If we can figure out how they move, we may be able to cross safely.”

“Hmm…” Gale looked at the platforms, then back to the levers. He reached out and pulled one towards them. In response, one of the metal platforms began to move, the old and rusty wires squeaked across the chamber.

“Aha!” He yelled with a small pump of his fist. “We just need to find out how to get over to that specific platform. There looks like there could be others as well, likely controlled by the other levers here.”

“Or we could just jump.” Lae’zel pointed across the river of lava to the nearby ledge.

“Across the lava?!” Tav’s startled yell echoed off the walls. She peered over the edge at the river of lava far below them.

That’s a long way down.

“Why not? Have Gale hit us with a handy Feather Fall spell, and we should be able to make it over without issue.” Astarion shrugged.

“We’re awfully high up…” Tav countered.

“Yes darling, that’s what the Feather Fall spell is for.” Astarion rolled his eyes. “Can you really tell me you’d rather go higher up to those old, wobbly platforms and cross the lava that way?”

“I guess not.” Tav gulped as her legs started to shake.

“Wizard?” Lae’zel shot Gale a sharp look.

“You know, a simple ‘please’ wouldn’t go unappreciated.” Gale chided her.

“Never.” She crossed her arms in response.

Tav took in a sharp breath as Gale cast the spell. Her body felt almost weightless, as if the lightest breeze could carry her away. Lae’zel made the leap across the chasm first, landing with the graceful poise of a warrior. The others followed not far behind, jumping with ease, and landing as light as a feather for which the spell was named.

Wyll was the only one left with her.

“Come on, Tav. We’ll jump together.” He held his hand out for her with a smile, ever the gentleman.

“Okay, together.” Tav exhaled through clenched teeth.

He gave her a countdown as she said a silent prayer to any god who would listen. She kept a tight grip on his hand as they crouched down together before pushing off the warm stone beneath them. Not two seconds later, they were across the divide and standing with the rest of their friends.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” Wyll let go of her hand, but she grabbed his arm again until she could walk further away from the edge.

“And look! Another one of those molds.” Gale picked up the large metal casting with a grunt. “Seems to be for a sword of some kind.”

“I still think we should go with the armor. Or the shield.” Shadowheart suggested. “We have lots of weapons, but our other gear could use some upgrades for the journey ahead.”

Tav had to admit her logic was sound.

More Sharran armor littered the ground around them. Dark Justiciars struck down in their own dreadful fortress.

Dwarf, male, captured outside of Moonrise Towers, put up a fight. Now his knees have been crushed using the hammer he used to resist.

“First things first, we have to find the ore before we can craft anything.” She reminded them. “It seemed like the drow were convinced they would find some veins near the forge itself.”

They had to fight their way past a small army of magma mephits and enchanted armor to find a meager two chunks of raw mithral ore. Still, it was at least enough for a couple new pieces of equipment.

“Circle up, everyone. Let me take care of some of these burns.” Shadowheart offered. The singed hairs sticking out from her braid matched Tav’s. Familiar soothing waves came over them, taking care of the minor cuts and burns from the past couple of fights.

“Thanks mate.” Wyll patted Shadowheart on the arm.

The heat became more and more insufferable as they descended further into the forge. Lava churned and bubbled on the surface far below the forge – the sight made Tav grateful Karlach had remained in camp today. This chamber was easily three times as hot as the smaller one where they fought Nere.

The stairs that took them below were crumbling, but the adamantine forge itself was as pristine as it could be in a harsh environment such as Grymforge. Like everything else in the fortress, there was a healthy layer of ash and dust, but otherwise it appeared to be in perfect condition.

“I’ll go down and check it out. Let’s see if this forge still works.” Tav pulled out the journal they had found on the dead drow with instructions for operating the machinery.

“Me too. I want to be the first to see this shiny new armor.” Astarion giggled as he hopped onto the massive platform behind her. The others gathered at the edge of the stairs, waiting with bated breath for the forge to be put to use.

“Here, make yourself useful, then.” Tav handed him the journal as she dug through her backpack for the molds.

“Okay let’s see…” Astarion read the words carefully before reciting them back to her.

“Place the mold in that chamber there.” He pointed to a rectangular block of metal a couple steps away.

“Armor or shield first?” Tav asked, holding both up in her arms to display.

“Armor, definitely.” An excited smile tugged at his lips. She held it up to the mold chamber and it slotted in perfectly. “Next, we need the ore, and it goes…yes you’ve got it there.”

Tav placed the ore in the large compartment in the center of the platform. Looking up, it appeared this is where the forge hammer would come down.

“Okay, now the hammer?”

Tav looked around for the lever which was on the other side of the platform from them. She peered over the edge.

“That’s a long way down…” She swallowed hard.

“Oh, come on, Tav,” He waved his hand in the air, “this is so much sturdier than that rickety elevator and you survived that just fine. Not to mention that nice little leap across the river of lava.”

She stuck her tongue out at him before pulling the lever. A booming clang echoed all around them. The platform sank with a slight jolt, drawing a startled yelp from Tav. After the initial drop, it continued its way down in a much slower and smoother motion. Just to be safe, she took a few steps toward the middle.

They landed at the bottom after a short ride with the platform hydraulics giving a soft hiss.

“Is that it?” She asked.

“Give me a moment, I’m reading…” Astarion’s eyes darted across the pages. “Ah! We need to open the valve for lava to flow past the chamber.” They spotted the wheel across the way, Tav assumed that it would open a valve of some kind.

“Wait…” She held out a hand as they reached the wheel, recalling what she had read earlier in the journal. “What about the guardian? The journal mentioned there was something guarding the forge.”

“Well, I don’t see any guardian, do you? Perhaps it was the animated armor we fought before. And that was no small amount of mephits that we dispelled.”

Fair enough.

She took another look around, checking above them for any traps or anything around the valve. As a precaution, she also peered inside the large pipe that would bring the lava to them. It was dark inside, nothing out of the ordinary that she could see.

“I doubt it’ll be an issue. Given the state of the rest of this fortress I don’t see how a guardian could have survived all this time. Besides, what guardian would have let us make it this far?” Astarion gestured toward the valve wheel. “Go on, then! Let’s make us some pretty new armor.” Another eager giggle escaped his lips.

Tav took a deep breath as she turned the valve for the lava. It was surprisingly easy for her to move. She was expecting it to be rusted in place due to its age. The eerie creaking of the wheel rang through the walls of the fortress, now empty except for her and her friends.

Or so she thought.

A low groaning echoed in the large pipe in front of her as metal gears grinded and clicked against each other, waking up after decades of rest. When the giant metal monstrosity emerged from the tunnel, it stood no less than ten feet tall.

“What…the…fuck…” Tav and Astarion cursed at the same time.

A familiar squirming in her head briefly distracted her from the looming construct.

“Tav! What in the hells is going on?” Wyll’s voice soaked into her psyche.

“Something just woke up down here…” She opened her mind further to allow Wyll and the others to see through her eyes.

“By Elminster’s ashen beard…” Gale’s voice drifted into her thoughts next.

“W-Whizbangs?” Astarion stuttered, already taking a step back.

Tav jumped back on the platform just as the guardian slammed down a giant metal foot boasting a couple of metal claws. The force of the movement shook the entire forge. She ran across the raised parts of the platform, jumping across the narrow gaps that now had lava flowing through them. As the construct started stomping after her, she drew her bow and took a shot. It bounced off the metal, the pitiful arrow falling into the lava.

“What the fuck, Tav?! How is an arrow going to pierce metal like that?!” Astarion screamed from behind her, his hands starting to rifle through his bag.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but shooting things with arrows is kind of my thing! I don’t see you trying anything better, you dick!” She snapped back at him as the forge guardian kept its focus locked on her.

Astarion just growled in response as he pulled a small smokepowder bomb out of his pack.

“Why would you want to use a bomb in an area covered with lava? That can’t be a good idea!” Tav shrieked at him, her hands gesturing wildly around her.

“Well, we don’t exactly have a lot of other options, darling! If your arrows can’t pierce it, I doubt these little daggers on my hip will do much better!” He chucked the bomb with a grunt as far as he could across the platform. The explosion was much larger than Tav had anticipated, and it knocked them both to the floor. Luckily, it also seemed to cause the construct to stumble as well. Even so, it made a quick recovery and took another quaking stomp in the lava in front of them. The reverberation from the move knocked their already prone bodies back a few feet.

“We need to split up.” Tav wheezed as she pulled herself back up before helping Astarion to his feet.

“On three?” He asked, she nodded back.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.” They said in unison as they dashed in opposite directions around the platform. The construct paused for a moment before following Astarion.

CLANG!

She whipped around to see an object bouncing off the construct’s head before falling into the lava. To her surprise, it looked like it even left a small dent. It turned its attention back to Tav.

“Did we hit it?” Shadowheart’s voice called to her through the tadpole.

“Yes! Do it again, it seemed to hurt it!” Tav responded.

So, we need some serious blunt force to do any damage here.

Of course, the two of them down here with the monster didn’t have hammers or any other kind of bludgeoning weapon.

Think…think…

A pained cry from Astarion interrupted her thoughts. She peered around the guardian to see him lying on the floor, clutching his leg. His foot was horrendously burnt, molten drops fell back into the lava.

“Why would you step into the lava?!” Tav screamed at him.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Astarion shrieked as he crawled along the platform. His curses echoed off the metal surroundings.

CLANG!

Another weapon bounced off the construct as Tav narrowly avoided another attack.

“What’s going on down there? Is everything okay?” Wyll’s voice reached out through the tadpoles.

“No! Everything is not okay! Astarion walked into the fucking lava!” She used their shared connection to yell back. The giant construct made a swipe at her which she dodged, but it knocked her off balance and nearly into the lava herself.

“Astarion, lava may just be melted rock but that doesn’t mean you can roam its surface safely!” Gale’s voice glided into her thoughts.

“ISAIDIDIDN’TDOITONPURPOSE!” Astarion’s exasperation could be heard in his psychic shrieking. He was still dragging himself toward the lever that controlled the massive forge hammer.

The hammer.

“Astarion!” Tav shouted over to him. “On my mark, pull the lever and bring that hammer down!”

He looked at her like she had just sprouted an additional head. “Have you lost your mind, Tav?! That thing will grind you to a pulp!”

“Just trust me!” Tav growled.

“What’s happening? I hear more shouting.” Lae’zel’s voice came across her mind.

“I have an idea. I think that giant hammer could crush this thing. I’m going to lure it over and have Astarion bring it down.”

Tav cast a quick Misty Step to get herself on top of the chamber holding the armor casting. The intolerable heat in the middle of the lava pit caused sweat to drench the thin clothes under her armor and make her hands slick. Her other companions continued throwing any weapons they could down to hit the monster from above. Most attacks appeared to barely phase it.

Please gods let this work…

Tav fired another arrow at the forge guardian to get its attention. It turned around to face her and began stomping its way through the lava.

“That’s it you metal fuck…just a little closer…”

After only a few steps, its towering metal frame was looming over her. It took one last step placing it directly beneath the hammer. A giant lava-heated foot came up, ready to crush her.

“Now!” She screamed.

Tav heard a grunt of effort from Astarion as he pulled the lever beside him. The hammer came down with a sickening crunch on the construct. She cried out in pain as the sound threatened to burst her eardrums. The force of the impact caused her to fall over, luckily still laying on the armor chamber.

The guardian of the adamantine forge fell defeated beside her, crumpled up into a mangled ball of metal. As the lava retreated away from the platform, a loud hissing sound came from the chamber where she was laying.

***

Halsin was getting anxious waiting for the others to return. They had been gone for an especially long time today. Scratch, Sniff, and Lunari followed in his footsteps as he paced around the fire.

“It’s okay, Halsin. They always make their way back.” Karlach smiled at him from the rock where she was perched. She had opted to stay in camp today while the others went to look for the adamantine forge.

“Of course they do. I’m just merely nervous for…other reasons.” He shook his head at the response.

Smoothly handled, Halsin.

Karlach snorted. “And what reasons are those, bear man?”

“Just thinking about…” Halsin panicked as he tried to come up with an excuse. After a few moments he just let out a resigned sigh.

“You know, it’s okay to just say you’re worried about her.” She ran a whetstone down the blade of her giant sword.

“Who?” Halsin feigned confusion.

“Ha! You’re so bad at this.” Karlach cackled. “I think it’s sweet.”

“I’m bad at what, exactly?” Halsin stopped pacing for a moment to look back at her.

“This.” She gestured up and down at him with a laugh. “Pretending you don’t care. Pretending you’re not going to run over to Tav the second you see her and heal the two tiny scratches she has on her arms even though Wyll will probably have a broken arm or something.”

“I would never let someone sit around with a broken arm.” Halsin mumbled. Karlach just grinned at him.

“Oh, you big loveable bear.” She shook her head softly while she laughed at him. “You don’t have to worry so much. Tav adores you.”

“A…Adores…” Halsin stuttered a bit, causing more laughter from Karlach. He could feel himself blushing.

“Oh, this is fun. I should stay in camp with you more often.” She had such an infectious laugh.

“Okay you’ve made your point. I’m glad I can at least provide some entertainment.” He took a seat next to her. “Why did you decide to stay here today?”

“Eh, there was quite a bit of lava where they were headed. I figure I’m burning up enough as it is, no need to add any extra heat.” She tried to keep a smile up, but her voice had quieted and was now laced with worry. “And after yesterday…”

Right.

Over the last few days, Karlach had slowed down a bit from when he first met her. Tav said she seemed more sluggish in a fight, and quicker to excuse herself to rest in the evenings. Whatever contraption she had in place of her heart was starting to wear her down.

“Is there nothing that can be done?” He asked quietly.

“Maybe. We’re going to find Dammon in Baldur’s Gate and hope he has something else figured out by then.”

“I hope he does, my friend. If not, I’m sure we’ll find someone who can.” He tried to reassure her, but he had no experience with infernal machinery. To be honest, he wouldn’t even know where to start looking.

“You’re a terrible liar, remember.” Karlach’s sad smile broke his heart. “But I appreciate the optimism anyway.”

“Anytime.” He said, almost patting her on the shoulder and then thinking better of it.

“The hurting isn’t even the worst part.” She continued, pain evident in her voice. “I’ve finally made it out of Avernus after ten years. Ten years of torture and fighting, ten years of absolute loneliness. Now I’m back, and I can’t even shake the hands of my new friends. Gods the things I would do to be able to get a hug.” A few tears sizzled on her cheeks.

The loneliness she felt mirrored his own. It was a feeling that so far, only Tav had been able to break through. Much of his isolation was self-inflicted, but at least he had never lost the option to touch those around him. The thought alone made him shudder.

“Well rest assured that when we fix that contraption up, my arms will be open wide. Dark will be the day that I refuse a hug.” He offered. She smiled back as she wiped the tears away.

“Deal. Step one, fix my engine. Step two, giant bear hug.”

Giant bear hug. I like the sound of that.

“So, tell me,” Karlach continued, “what is it that’s holding you back?”

“The fire coming out of your skin, I’d say.” He reached over to pet the small line of animals that had been following him all day.

Karlach laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “What’s holding you back from Tav?”

“I…I don’t know what you mean.” She was right, he was a terrible liar.

Why do you bother hiding it?

“Ha! You’re blushing like a maid on her wedding night!” Karlach’s cackle echoed all around him.

Halsin just groaned. He didn’t have an answer to give her. Every day he fought his desires, and every day he looked for excuses to be close to Tav without getting close to her.

“I wish I could explain it, Karlach.” He shook his head, almost ashamed to admit it. “She’s lovely, and the first person to come to my aid in many years. I already consider her a dear friend.”

“But?” She prompted, setting her sword down on the ground beside her.

“But there are things that need to be done. Wrongs to right, a world to save.”

“Oh, there’s things that need to be done alright. Take Tav for instance…” Karlach grinned at him.

“Gods, you are tenacious.” Halsin laughed, doing his best to keep his mind from wandering due to Karlach poking his imagination.

“Just…don’t wait too long, yeah? Take it from someone who hasn’t felt a kind touch for ten years. You never know what could happen.”

Wise words. I just wish I could heed them.

“I’ll take that under consideration. Tav’s lucky to have you as a friend, Karlach.” Halsin smiled back at her. “And I hope I can consider you one as well.”

“Of course you can!” She sounded almost offended that he even had to ask.

Before he could say anything else, Scratch and Lunari jumped up from their comfortable position at his feet to trot over toward the edge of camp. The sound of footsteps cut through the sound of the crackling fire. Sniff perked up but seemed content to keep laying at Halsin’s side.

“Oh good, you’re back.” His face lit up as Tav walked back into the camp, her adventuring party trailing in behind her. Karlach let out a quiet, sputtering laugh at his outburst. He walked up to greet her, noticing that she looked a bit different than when she left this morning.

“Do you have new armor?”

“Yep. Fought a lava monster for it.” She said proudly. Singed hairs stuck out in all directions from her braid. Small burns and blisters speckled her neck and hands.

“A lava elemental?” He asked.

“Nope. Lava monster. It was a giant construct guarding the adamantine forge.” Everyone who left with her today looked to be varying shades of burnt. Gale, he noticed, had a new shield as well.

“Well, you certainly have the burns to prove your story.” He teased, earning another proud grin from her.

“Think you can help us out? Shadowheart and I are tapped out of spells for the day. Someone stepped into the lava rather than jumping over it.” She glared back at Astarion who appeared to be missing one of his boots. The bare foot was still badly burnt, he had to lean on Shadowheart’s shoulder for support.

“Of course. Gather close, everyone.” He placed a hand on Tav’s shoulder and muttered an incantation. A couple of waves of healing went out over those around him, eliciting soft groans of relief from each of them. He would have to take extra time with Astarion to heal that foot.

Just to be sure, he did take another quick look at Wyll, checking that he didn’t, in fact, have a broken arm. Everyone seemed to now be unburnt and content as they started making their way to their tents. Tav turned and smiled over her shoulder at him as she strode over to Karlach, Lunari trotting happily beside her. Gale helped Astarion over to a seat by the fire so Halsin could finish healing his burn.

“You know, druid, I happen to know that spell doesn’t require any physical contact.” Shadowheart had snuck up beside him and was smirking. Halsin just grunted in response as she walked away. He didn’t bother teasing her back. Out of all his new companions, he felt the least comfortable around Shadowheart. Her devotion to Shar was a constant reminder of the curse, of what they would have to face in the coming days.

Rather than let himself stew in his hatred for the wicked goddess, he let his eyes wander back to Tav as he made his way over to Astarion. Her soft smile as she began to regale Karlach with the story of their battle soothed him, keeping his chest warm and his mind light. He enjoyed the feeling while he still could, for tomorrow they would take the path to Moonrise Towers, and through the horrible shadows that awaited them there.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 halsin #halsin silverbough #halsin x tav #halsin fanfic #bg3 fluff #sooo close to act 2! Might just drop the last act 1 chapter tonight

15 notes · View notes