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radishaur · 3 months ago

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Second Chance (Un-Ascended Astarion x Reader)

Warnings: minor spoilers for BG3 (takes place post-game)

Genre: fluff, slight angst, suggestive

Part: 1/1

Summary: A lot has changed since the fight to save Baldur's Gate, Astarion included.

Author’s Note: This fic has minor spoilers for BG3 but I tried to keep it vague enough that you could read it without majorly spoiling it. The "reader" in this situation is Tav from the game, but Tav is practically a self-insert so you get the jist. Not a Durge fic (yet). Also, this is with un-ascended Astarion. I apologize if this is OOC, I have such a hard time pinning down his mannerisms. This has been rotting in my drafts for way too long, so I just decided to hell with it, it needs to get posted. Lastly, I took some liberties with his backstory since it's slightly vague. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. Happy reading!

The only thing lighting up the barren city roads as you made your way back to your room was the dying flicker of the sparsely placed lamp posts. Not even the moon itself was making an appearance, cloaked behind grey clouds so thick that not even a ray of her light could reach the street below. It was nothing you weren't used to as an adventurer. The job kept you out late by nature since most of the types you were after did their business well after the sun had set.

The dark of night wasn't what sent a shiver down your spine. No, rather it was the unmistakable feeling that someone was watching you. Your time adventuring had taught you to recognize that feeling quite well and there was no mistake: someone was following you. You ducked into the nearest side street to draw them out and readied yourself to attack if necessary.

The feeling of a hand on your shoulder was all you needed to react.

You shifted your weight forward and used the other person's clear surprise to throw them off balance and over your shoulder. They hit the ground with a thud and a groan and you crouched down and brought a knife to their throat before you even had time to register the set of all too familiar red eyes that were looking up at you.

When you finally looked down at who was beneath you, you felt sick. You would recognize that face anywhere, even upside down and in the dark. Hell, you think you would recognize him blind despite all the time that had passed since you'd seen him. He smirked, his fangs peeking out as he tsked.

"That's no way to greet an old friend, my sweet," he teased, still as confident as he ever was, even with a blade to his throat.

"Astarion," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't sound so shocked, darling. I told you I would come find you, didn't I?"

You didn't say anything, your thoughts racing a mile a minute. You thought about him quite often, but actually seeing him in person again was enough to send your mind spiraling down memory lane. From when you met, to your victory over the Absolute, to your bittersweet goodbye...

You were snapped back to reality by Astarion's voice once more, slightly softer as he spoke this time as if he saw the thoughts racing behind your eyes.

"Why don't you let me up," he said, despite the fact the grip on your knife had long since loosened, leaving him enough room to push his way up on his own should he have wished.

You swallowed thickly and stood up, stowing your knife back in its place before reaching a hand out for him to help himself up. He was already in the process by the time your hand was offered, but he took it anyway, using it to pull himself up to full height in front of you.

For all the time that had passed, he looked exactly the same. His skin was still milky white, his hair still curled around his pointed ears just so, and his eyes still found a way to look straight through you and into your soul. The faint light of the street lamps made him look ethereal, otherworldly even, as he stood in front of you.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, an air of disbelief in your voice as you regarded him.

"Don't tell me you forgot about our conversation," he said, a slight tease in his voice masking the very obvious concern.

And oh, what a stupid question that was, because how could you ever forget it?

"Hello darling. I was just thinking about freedom. How I'm free of the parasite - free of Cazador. How I'll never be in someone's power again And all it cost was my life in the sun. Now I belong to the shadows," he had said, gesturing his arms out to reference the dark of night around the both of you.

"What are you going to do? What's next?" you had asked.

He paused, thinking for a moment.

"I...I don't know," he admitted, taking a moment of silence to think before saying, "I've never been able to decide for myself."

"Now is as good a time as any to start," you had joked, hoping it would lighten the mood a bit before saying, "Let's celebrate our victory tonight properly. You can tell me what adventure we'll set out on then."

The night carried on, with all of your companions around the fire, telling stories and drinking together, happier than ever and without a care in the world. Later on in the night, the two of you snuck off together, just like you had in the early days of your traveling together. It had filled you with nostalgia and you told him as much as you laid next to him, staring up at the stars.

"We have come quite far together, haven't we," he said, although his voice had sounded miles away.

"What's wrong?" you had asked, shifting so your head was propped up and you were on your side to face him.

He didn't say anything for a long time, simply looking up at the stars with a frown. All you wanted to do was kiss away the wrinkles that furrowed his brows until he would smile once more, but you resisted, letting him have a moment to collect his thoughts.

"When I was Cazador's beloved spawn," he started, spitting out Cazador's name venomously like he always had, "I had no control over myself. I spent 200 years doing whatever he told me and paying the price the few times I didn't."

You nodded. This was obviously nothing new to you, but you also knew he wouldn't be saying it again if it didn't matter, so you stayed silent, encouraging him to continue.

"And then when I was finally free of him and had some level of control, I just reverted back to my instinct. I manipulated you for my own gain. Nothing had changed." he said, frustration evident in his voice as he said, "I don't even remember anything before Cazador. Not a damned thing. Only his stories of what happened."

"That must be difficult," you replied softly.

He didn't say anything to that, but he did finally turn to face you and even without the tadpole's connection you could still feel his emotions so clearly. The inner turmoil was written so plainly on him that you wondered how he had ever seemed like a mystery to you instead of an open book.

"My point is that I have no idea who I really am. I've always been following someone else's orders, someone else's plans. Even here, with all of you," he said, sighing before adding, "I don't know what kind of person I really am, without following the moral compass of everyone around me. I've only ever known orders."

You stayed silent for a few moments before deciding to ask, "Have you decided what you want to do after this? That might be a place to start."

"I want to go to the Underdark first. I can't just let my brothers and sisters wander aimlessly. Then maybe I'll come back here. Try and find clues of what my life looked like before... everything," he answered.

"Then we'll leave tomorrow. After it gets dark," you said with a smile before yawning, the adventures of the day finally catching up on you.

You missed the way his expression broke just slightly as your eyes scrunched up during your yawn. Whatever he had meant to tell you had died on his tongue and he simply kissed you, a little deeper than he ever had before, and let you fall asleep in his arms.

When you had woken up, you were in your tent instead of out in the grass. You had smiled at the image of Astarion carrying you there in the dead of night to tuck you in and made your way to his tent to thank him, only to find it missing. In its place was a small box and a sealed letter with your name scrawled out in a posh-looking cursive.

He had left in the middle of the night. Packed up his tent and left nothing behind except his last parting gift to you. You didn't open the box, still hadn't all these years later. You simply unsealed the letter with shaking hands and read the whole thing 3 times over. He apologized for leaving without saying anything to you but said he needed to learn how to be his own person before he was truly with another. He thanked you for everything you had done for him over your time together before promising to return and find you when he had figured everything out. He said that when he came back, he would be yours in every way you would take him, should you still want him.

He signed the letter with Your love, Astarion and that was the last you heard from him.

Your face soured as it all came rushing back to you in full force. You scowled at him, all your previous excitement that he had returned disappearing much like he had. Old wounds ached as if they were brand new.

"I would hardly call a letter left in the dead of night a conversation," you retorted, snatching the hand that you had forgotten was still holding his back to you.

His lips pulled into a small smile, lifting up at the corner, but his eyes saddened in contrast. You clenched your fists and looked away from him, needing a moment to collect your thoughts.

"No, I suppose you're right," he said, shuffling on his feet slightly before adding, "You have every right to be upset."

Your eyes whipped to him and the dam holding back your anger broke.

"Upset?" you asked, the venom in your voice causing him to startle slightly, "Upset doesn't even begin to cover it, Astarion."

You took a deep breath to steel yourself, to keep yourself from shouting at him in the middle of the dark alleyway.

"You left me in the middle of the night after everything we went through together. You took me to your grave and told me you didn't want to lose what we had and then you left," you said, your throat getting tighter and tighter with each word, "You let me believe I was coming with you and let me make a complete fool of myself. All I had left of you was some letter and a stupid box."

You shifted on your feet slightly as you thought about that exact box, tucked away in your dresser underneath all your clothes. It sat, unopened, atop the letter that had ripped your whole world apart. You looked back up at him, trying to gauge any kind of reaction from him as you said, your voice cracking despite it being no louder than a whisper, "It's been 3 years."

He kept quiet while you composed yourself for what was the third time that night and then took a tentative step forward. When you didn't move back, he took another and then another until he was right in front of you. His left hand went to yours and his right hand cupped your face gently, his expression suspiciously calm but his eyes were a swirling mix of different emotions.

You felt your heart rate accelerate at the proximity and you cursed yourself for still loving him after leaving so long ago without a word. With all your anger released you were left only with the profound longing to be with him, to touch him, kiss him, hold him close. Every detail you had memorized about his face was even more striking in person than you remember and hearing his voice again after so long...

"I know. There's no amount of apologies I could make that would undo that mistake, although I am deeply sorry. I was afraid to be honest with you and it made me a coward," he said, taking a deep breath as he pulled away slightly, letting his hand drop from your face, "You asked me why I'm here and I didn't answer you fully."

You didn't move even a single inch, worried that any movement would scare him away.

"I'm here....," he took another deep breath to steady his nerves before he continued, "I'm here because I love you. I thought about you every day these past 3 years and there's nothing more I want than to be with you. I want to apologize to you for how I handled things and if you do still feel the same way, I want to spend the rest of my immortal life proving that to you."

His eyes were open, bearing everything he was feeling for you to read. You saw his sincerity and his feelings plain as day. Your heart constricted as you thought about your next words.

"I...Astarion...," you stumbled over your words, trying to get your heart and your head to align as they both asked for different things.

"Give me a chance to explain and properly apologize. After that, if you never wish to see me again, then," he paused, trailing off before finishing, "I'll disappear into the night once more for good this time."

You hesitated, taking a moment to let your feelings settle. The swirling mix of anger, despair, and intense longing slowed the longer you looked at him, and left behind was only the feeling of anxious uncertainty.

You saw his eyes searching your face for a sign as the silence continued to drag out, but he didn't say anything. Didn't even make a move, once again letting you decide as he simply waited. You swallowed, thick as it stuck in your throat. This was the same man you knew from so long ago and yet he was so different. His time alone had no doubt changed him, but was that enough?

Before either of you had a chance to say anything more, footsteps echoed out in the street and you heard someone shout, "Hey! Who's there?"

Your eyes snapped from the direction of the voice back to Astarion and you knew that both of you would need to leave immediately if you didn't want to be caught. Regardless of your feelings towards him, you knew that a vampire being caught out at night would lead to nothing good and you didn't want anything bad to happen to him. He seemed to understand that as well as his face morphed into the more guarded expression you were used to seeing.

"If you decide to give me a chance, meet me at the town's overlook tomorrow night at 10 pm," he said, his voice low before he kissed your left hand and then disappeared into the shadows of the alleyway.

You weren't far behind, slipping into the shadows and making your way back to your room. You tossed and turned all night, the anxiety of tomorrow night and your impending decision looming over your conscience until you could finally get some sleep.

Despite having faced some of the worst horrors that Faerun had to offer, Astarion was pretty sure he had never been so nervous.

He exhaled to try and release some of his anxiety before stepping back to look at the setup he had laid out. He had placed a few thick, woven blankets on the ground to cushion against the hard dirt floor with a fuzzy, fur blanket on top. Off to the side, he put a magic phonograph programmed with the music he had curated for the evening, and right in the middle of the blanket was a tray filled with more fruits and cheeses than one could possibly eat.

He looked out over the cliff and down to the city, illuminated in the soft yellow light of the street lamps now that it was finally nighttime. The moon was peeking out through the clouds and a slight breeze was blowing the hair around his face and the leaves in the trees. For all intents and purposes, he had picked a perfect night.

There was still a good amount of time before you were supposed to arrive, so he simply leaned against the tree that was shading the blanket setup and waited anxiously.

He found himself watching the town below and reminiscing about his time with you. There was no guarantee that you would show up tonight, but there had never been any guarantees in your time together. With everything happening, there was never the promise of even the next day, yet you always came back. Chose him over any others and went out of your way to support him.

He spent more time than he liked to admit wondering if he had made the right decision in leaving. He knew that learning more about himself was something he needed to do, but he missed you more than he had anticipated. He knew that he loved you, but he had underestimated how that would affect him now that he wasn't around you all the time. You followed him like a ghost. He saw you in every face, heard you in every laugh, and taunted him in every kind action he witnessed.

After a while, he could admit that his fear drove him away in a harmful way. Afraid of his love for you and of what potentially dark secrets awaited him in his past, he ran. The more time he spent apart from you, the more he wondered if you had really loved him. The small part of his brain that whispered cruel nothings to him told him that you could never love him, not like he loved you at least. There was a chance that your connection to him was born purely from circumstance. Now, with no parasite connecting you and no shared goal to live, you might not feel the same.

He almost hadn't returned, but his guilt over how he left you and the regret he knew he would feel if he never tried to ask for forgiveness convinced him. Your reaction to seeing him had quelled some of his doubts. Maybe you weren't connected by the tadpole anymore, but your eyes betrayed your feelings just like they always had. There was a swirl of emotions there, battling for dominance, but he knew that somewhere in there amongst that conflict were the remnants of what he had broken. That bond built on love and sacrifice that brought him back from the dark path he was walking on before he met you.

He was brought back from his thoughts by a particularly cold gust of wind. He bit his lip slightly as he tried once more to calm his nerves. There was nothing for him to do but hope that you still loved him enough to try one last time.

The walk to the lookout was quiet. Fall had finally come after months of intense heat and the light cool breeze rustling your hair and nipping at your face was nice. Other than the sound of rustling leaves and your footsteps on the cobbled path, it was just you and your thoughts.

It would be easy to lie to yourself and insist that you had thought long and hard about whether to meet Astarion, but deep down you already had your answer from the moment he asked. So many years apart and he still had a hold on you.

Eventually, the cobble path turned to dirt and you found yourself hiking up the hill, your heart pumping from more than just the exercise. You were anxious to hear what he had to say but more than that you were worried about the next step. You loved him still, that much was undeniable, but you didn't trust him. That was something that would take a long time to build back up if it was even possible, and you wondered if things could really go back to how they were before.

Finally, you reached the top of the hill and the path flattened out. After walking further down the path, it began to open up and you found yourself breathless at the sight in front of you. Your eyes roamed over the blankets, food, and atmosphere that was laid out underneath the tree, each item placed with care. The breeze was rustling the tree leaves, causing a few leaves to fall here and there down on the blanket. Then, your eyes caught on Astarion. He wasn't facing you, his back towards you as he looked out over the town and you found that even from here he looked beautiful.

His clothes were similar to what he used to wear around camp, but they were made of much finer materials. His shirt was still frilly and the neckline still plunged down, but it seemed to be made of silk and the threads shimmered slightly in the moonlight, and his pants seemed to be a lot thicker material even though they were still black. If you didn't know better you would say that nothing about him had changed, but you knew that wasn't true. His hair which you knew from experience was always tamed was ruffling slightly in the wind.

If you were a painter, the scene in front of you would have been your masterpiece.

After a few moment, he must have felt someone staring because he turned his head slightly to face you. His lips pulled slightly at the corner into a smirk as he spoke.

"Enjoying the view?"

"Perhaps."

Your throat went dry as you looked at him more. His eyes looked you over and you were suddenly reminded that you were severely underdressed compared to him. You hadn't known what to expect, but fancy had not been on the list, so you'd simply worn some of your casual clothes and headed out. Despite that, his gaze still lingered and his smirk melted into a smile. When his eyes met yours, there was a fondness there that made your heartache.

He pushed himself off the tree and walked over to you where your feet were cemented on the dirt. When he was finally standing in front of you, you were relieved to see that he seemed just as nervous as you were. His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly and reached for your hand. You let him take it, your mind racing too fast to object even if you had wanted to.

"I'm glad you came," he said, pulling your hand up to place a small kiss onto your hand. "I... wasn't sure you would. You'd have every right not to."

"I needed to come. No matter what happens, I... we deserve the closure," you said, your voice quiet but firm.

He nodded, the gesture slightly stiff as the reminder of what tonight could possibly bring hung between the two of you. Still holding your hand, he stepped to the side and gestured with his free hand to the blankets. "Let's catch up and then we can talk."

You gave him your own nod and followed him to the blankets. The closer you got, the more you saw of the view and oh it was lovely. The flickering light of the candles Astarion had laid out around the blanket mixed with the lantern light of the city below, casting everything in a warm glow. It was high enough that you could talk uninterrupted but close enough that the faint noise of the bars and late-nighters could be heard.

Suddenly, you heard music and turned to see that Astarion had started the music machine which was playing some light romantic music. He turned it down so that it didn't overpower your soon-to-be-had conversation and motioned for you to join him on the blankets.

"So," he said as you sat down beside him, "What have you been up to since I've been gone."

Despite how you were still upset with him, your conversation flowed freely. You told him of your job as an adventurer, how you met occasionally with Shadowheart, Halsin, and some of the other members of your group who were still in Bauldur's Gate or nearby, and other stories to fill in the gaps since you had last seen him. In turn, he shared his story with you.

He'd spent the first few months away getting the spawn under control and settled in the Underdark, which had been a task in and of itself. While he was there, he began to adjust once again to life in the shadows. After a while, he set out to do what he originally wanted to do: learn about his past. He knew vaguely about his life before Cazador, just bits and pieces that Cazador had thrown his way when he was "behaving", but now he had a much larger picture.

He had hoped to find his parents alive and well, but unfortunately for him, that was not the case. Cut down not unlike him, his parents were long dead. Whether it was connected to his decision as a magistrate that got him killed was unclear, but it stung all the same. He searched record after record and finally found something that led him to a vacation house not far out of Bauldur's Gate. It was beaten and not well taken care of, but it held more than he could have imagined about his life before Cazador. Pictures, journals, notes, and records stuffed the house and he had combed through them all meticulously. That, combined with the legal records he had been able to get his hands on, painted a clearer picture of who he used to be.

He shared it all with you, promising to take you there and show you some of the pictures himself, should you let him. You talked for hours and barely noticed the hum of the city die down as the night progressed. In all honesty, it was easy to forget why you were here in the first place. The pain and betrayal faded into the background as you talked and you found yourself relaxing more and more. Eventually, he had finished sharing everything and the silence that followed was peaceful.

After hearing him talk, it was clear that he had changed a lot on his journey. The Astarion that once hid between a mask of seduction and good looks was gone, replaced by a man who was much more confident and sure of himself. He was still a flirty, cocky bastard, but he was more genuine. He wasn't afraid anymore. He had gone out into the world and figured out exactly who he used to be and was standing on the other end of it more sure of who he wanted to be in the future. As much as his departure still hurt, you couldn't help but be happy that he seemed so much happier.

The song changing broke you out of your thoughts and you saw Astarion watching you from the corner of your vision. When you turned to meet his gaze, you felt some of the air around you thicken with tension. Astarion must have noticed the shift as well because he stood up and held a hand out for you to take.

"Dance with me," he said, his voice hopeful as he added in a slightly more teasing tone, "I can show off those dance lessons my dear parents paid for."

The reference to his previous story of his upbringing made you laugh and you took his hand as he pulled you up to your feet. "Let's hope they stuck."

He led you to the side of the blankets, close enough to the outlook that you could still see the city and the ocean, but not so close that either of you would fall. He carefully positioned your hands and then his own before moving slowly into a dance. The two of you swayed to the sound of the music, making it easy for you to follow him. Aside from a few fancy moves spinning you around, he mostly just held you close to him. His grip was firm but soft, as if you were something precious to him.

"This reminds me of our first night together," you said, referring to the first night you had spent alone with him.

His mouth quirked up at the comment, clearly amused by the comparison. "I suppose it does."

"It's...," you trailed off, struggling to find the right words to explain it. You met his eyes and settled on, "It's beautiful. Who knew you were such a romantic."

"Only for you, darling."

He held your gaze, his tone devoid of any teasing and it made your heart skip a beat. His thumb rubbed a soothing pattern into your hip as you continued to sway, your eyes never leaving his. He was silent for a long time, neither one of you wanting to break the moment, but eventually, he spoke.

"As much as I'd like to just stay here and enjoy the evening, that wouldn't be fair to you. I owe you a true explanation and an apology."

You stilled slightly, his words reminding you once again why you were here tonight. You nodded at him to indicate that you were ready and continued to dance with him.

"That night, when you were asking me about the future, I began to panic. I told you that night in the graveyard that I wanted something real with you and I meant it, but... I got scared. I kept thinking about how much I never knew about my past and how little I knew about myself now that I was free and it ate away at me. It dawned on me that there was a very real possibility that you would learn the truth about what I was like before Cazador or that being free of the tadpole would change how you saw me and that you would leave. I was terrified of losing you and I let myself slip back into old habits as a result. Hurt them before they can hurt you, and all that."

As he spoke, his eyes clouded over and his grip on you tightened slightly, his stress shining clear as day on his face. You shifted your hand out of his, resting your arms around his neck. He let his other hand grab your waist to match the other and you let yourself play with the hair brushing against the nape of his neck as he continued.

"I'm glad that I left on my own because I needed to learn how to live now that I was free. I have no memories of almost anything before Cazador, so my whole life felt like it was lived being controlled, first by Cazador and then by the Absolute. I loved you and I... I still love you," he said, voice wavering slightly at the admission of his feelings, "But, I needed to learn how to just be. Being in a relationship with you, wasn't like being controlled, but I needed to learn how to be myself. It was something I needed and I'm glad that I can say I know who I am now, but I shouldn't have left the way I did. I should have come to you about it, but I let myself fall back to how I used to act instead."

He stopped dancing then, pulling you closer with one arm and letting the other come up to brush against your throat before cupping your face. The gentleness of his touch made you shiver slightly and his grip on your waist tightened once more.

"I'm sorry, for leaving you in the middle of the night without a word. It will be one of my life's biggest regrets. I thought about you every day that I was gone and I still feel the same about you as the day I left. If you let me, I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I'm yours in every way that you'll take me, should you still want me."

His last line quoting the letter broke the last of your resolve as you leaned into his touch, your eyes watering as you finally spoke.

"You're an asshole. I'm glad that you're happy, but I hate that you told me you loved me and then left in the middle of the night. I hate that you made me wait here for so long without another word from you. I hate that you sauntered so easily back into my life with that stupid, smug smirk. But mostly, I hate that despite all of that I still love you," you said, your voice wavering as tears finally spilled down your face, "I love you just as much as I did before and nothing can change that. Not even you."

You hadn't realized as you were talking just how close to him you had gotten, your hands fisted into his shirt and his hair, but now it was clear as day, even with your eyes clouded by tears. You didn't have time to react before you felt him lean down and slot his lips against yours. His kiss was firm and filled with so much passion and you met him with a fierce determination of your own. Your lips fell into a familiar rhythm, almost as if it hadn't been years since the two of you had done this.

He pulled away slightly, murmuring I love you's against your skin as he kissed his way from your lips to your cheeks, the gentle press of his lips kissing the tears away. It was too much and yet not enough all at once. You clung to him like a lifeline as he met your lips once more, his kiss like a breath of fresh air as you were drowning at sea. You didn't know when he had picked you up and moved you onto the blanket, but suddenly you were on his lap underneath the tree once more.

His touch was like fire, burning everything it touched and you wanted more. You wanted it all and he was more than happy to oblige. The world around the two of you faded into nothing as he gave you everything, skin to skin, heart to burning heart.

Later, as the two of you lay under the stars and blankets pressed up against each other, he pulled a box out from its hiding spot amongst the blankets. You shifted slightly, pulling the blankets with you as he sat up with the box now in hand. It only took a few moments for you to recognize what it was.

"How did you get that?" you asked, confusion evident. "That's been tucked into my dresser for years."

"You wound me, darling. A man of my talents can steal anything with enough time and resources."

You felt a lump grow in your throat as you looked at the box. You would recognize that box anywhere, its image haunting you in your nightmares about that day. You never had the courage to open it after reading the letter Astarion had left and that same trepidation came back in full as it stared back at you now.

"Admittedly, I was hopeful about how tonight would go. I knew there was a chance you hadn't opened it, so I grabbed it from your room before you came back for the day," he explained, the hand next to yours on the ground brushing against it in reassurance.

He repositioned slightly and opened the box. The inside of it was a plush red velvet and nestled right in the middle, a ring. Not a wedding ring or even anything incredibly fancy, but a ring nonetheless. It was polished steel with three small gems embedded in the middle. Their colors danced in the light and you found yourself reaching out to touch it.

"What...," you said, your voice failing you for the millionth time that night.

"Consider it a promise," he supplied, his voice quiet as he plucked the ring out of the box and guided it onto one of your fingers. "I want something real with you. I'm yours for as long as you'll have me."

You had both changed significantly in your time apart. Astarion had broken your trust and it would be a long time before it would fully come back. You knew things could never go back to how they were before, but maybe that was ok. Maybe you both weren't the same people you used to be, but you were both learning, both trying to be better, trying to navigate life after the Absolute, trying to live. Maybe that trust was broken, but that broken bond could come back stronger. There was no doubt in your mind as you kissed him once again, murmuring against his lips.

"Here's to forever, then."

ღ radishaur — i do not own any of these characters. do not plagiarize. please enjoy and remember to be respectful!

#astarion x reader #astarion acunin x reader #bg3 x reader #baulders gate 3 x reader #radishaur writes

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storm-angel989 · 6 months ago

Text

She's hardheaded, just like her Daddy.

@lolita1266

Hey I was wondering if you could do valentine's daughter where she gets hurt during an exterminator.

Like let's say she is six or something and she gets curious on why she has to be in her room on a specific day and the vees won't tell her anything just that it's a 'special' day.

So one day when no one is looking she go's outside to see what so 'special' about it.

Just to be chase by some angles luckily the Vees see her with one of the many cameras in the city and save her. But she get a scar from it.

How would the vees react to it?

Also hope your have a nice day!

This is the actual story to this request! Enjoy!

"Daddy, I don’t wanna spend all day in Uncle Voxxy’s office,” I complained as my father pulled a dress over my head. “Why can’t I go to school?”

“Princessa, you know the answer to that. Today is a special day,” my father replied. “Now sit so I can braid your hair.”

"I want Mommy,” I grumbled as I complied. “Why did she leave again?”

"Mommy has an important job, bebita. And today, you do too.” My father said softly as he wove his fingers in and out of my hair. “I’ll get a good report, right?”

I pouted but let him kiss my forehead. He swept me up in his arms and carried me out towards the living room. Unlike every other day of my life, the big sweeping floor to ceiling windows were covered in black curtains, obscuring the walls of silver that went in two days ago. Instead of the usual sunlight that dotted the room, the only light came from the lamps sprinkled around the apartment.

Every single year since I could remember, the week before today the walls went up. And on this day, I wasn’t allowed to go to school. Instead, I had to spend the day in my Uncle Vox’s downstairs office, playing with one of his assistants- usually Issac- until my father came and got me. It was boring, and Issac had zero sense of creativity. Nor did he have any desire to create unicorn traps or make slime.

“Do you want a pop tart or a sticky bun?” My father asked as he set me down on the kitchen counter.

I crossed my arms. “I want to go to school.”

My father opened his mouth as if to scold me, but instead shook his head. “I’m sorry baby. Make a choice, you have to eat something.”

"Yeah, squirt, you’ll need your energy to hang in Uncle Voxxy’s office all day! Are you gonna draw my sharkies!?” My Uncle’s cheerful voice rang through the kitchen. “Issac is excited to color with you!”

I glared at my Uncle Vox. “That’s a lie. He only does it because you make him.”

"And if he doesn’t do a good job, Uncle Voxxy will fire him. So be a good little boss for me, won’t you?” Vox replied as he ruffled my hair. “I expect a full performance review at the end of the day!”

I grumbled. My Dad handed me a pop tart and begrudgingly, I took a bite. A few moments later, my Aunt Velvette walked in. Wordlessly, she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Velvette! How are you this hellish morning?” Vox sang as he added another spoonful of sugar to his coffee.

“Cut the shit Vox, you know how I am,” Velvette grumbled. “And why is the baby still here? She needs to be downstairs with Issac in…” she paused and glanced at the clock. “A half hour at the latest.”

"We got a little sidetracked,” Valentino replied as he packed the final few snacks into my bright pink lunchbox. “But she’s almost ready to go.”

“What else does she need? I’d hurry up if I was you,” Velvette replied with a glance at Valentino.

“Nothing. Come on bebita, Daddy will bring you downstairs,” Valentino said quickly. He lifted my backpack off the kitchen chair and slung it over his shoulder before lifting me up. I laid my head on his shoulder and he carried me to the elevator.

“Why do we have to do this every single year?” I complained as he walked me through the maze that was Vox’s basement office. “I don’t wanna spend all day with Issac, I wanna go to school.”

“Stop whining,” my father said sharply. He pushed open the door and set me down on the small twin bed in the back of my Uncle Vox’s second office. He knelt down and gently grabbed my chin. “Listen ninita, I need you to stay in here with Issac until one of us comes and gets you. Do you understand?”

I flinched at his words and looked down. “Yes, Papi.”

“Good.” He planted a kiss on my forehead. “Now be good for Issac, I’ll see you tonight.”

My father strode out the door. I turned and glanced at my would-be jailer and he gave me an overly bright, obviously fake smile.

“Good morning reader! Would you like a snack? Or to play a game?” Issac asked cheerfully.

“It's too early for a snack,” I grumbled as I stomped my way over towards one of the beanbag chairs. I picked up my tablet and opened up one of my favorite aps. “Just leave me alone.”

Issac sighed. “Your Dad said he put a two hour timer on it.”

I ignored him and put my headphones on. In all honesty, that was an hour and a half more time than I usually got each day. Maybe there was something to this special day afterall.

Six hours later, my tablet time had expired. I had leafed through every book and played exactly one excruciating round of Go-Fish with my fish faced warden.

“I have to go potty,” I announced as I won yet another hand. “Bye.”

Leaving Issac behind with the pile of cards, I turned and walked down the windowless hallway. To the left the door led to the little girls room, but the heavy door to the right, usually closed tightly on this special day, was opened just a crack.

That interested me. Maybe now I could find out why this day was so very important, and why Daddy covered every window and door in our apartment. I pushed the door open and walked up the stairs to the first floor.

I expected the doors to be barred up like the entryway to our apartment, but to my surprise, the first floor was bright. I crept by the empty greeters desk and out the doors of the tower. Why was my family so obsessed with today? It looked totally normal to me.

A sudden screech and I jumped, my attention pulled to the sky. To my horror, it looked like a cloud of flies had invaded, every other spot of sky blocked by black and white winged creatures. I stepped back towards the door to scurry back inside, and was hit with a volt of electricity.

I yelped and one of the creatures, drawn by my cry, swooped down towards me. I threw my arms up to cover my head and braced for impact.

A slew of angry Spanish and the feeling of my fathers arms as he pushed me into his arm protectivity. I opened my eyes to see the glowing red eyes of my Uncle Vox and the angry expression of my Auntie Velvette. I looked up to my fathers face and yelped when I saw the sharp teeth that made up his smile. Fear wracked my body as he cut down the creature with a single bullet.

“It’s Papi, bebita. Shussh, niña papá está aquí,” he muttered.

He turned around and with the wave of his hand a sharp blue light, Uncle Vox opened the previously locked front door. My father carried me inside, my Uncle and Aunt following close behind.

“Breath, little girl,” my father said softly as soon as the doors closed. “Papi is here. You’re safe.”

I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until his words. His hand pressed to my chest and I let out a slow exhale as I buried my face into him. Tears welled up in my eyes and he held me tighter.

“Calm down baby, you’re safe,” he said softly. “Come on, deep breaths for Papi.”

He shifted me and kissed the top of my head as he cradled me to his arms. A sharp crack and sizzle against the door and I looked up in horror at the blackened figure pressed against the glass.

“Val, we should take her upstairs,” Vox said firmly. “Back to her room, if she needs you. Vel and I can hold down just fine.”

My father nodded and he carried me up the stairs. I laid my head on his shoulder and stuck my thumb in my mouth. Unlike every other time, my father let me. As soon as we got into my bedroom, he closed the door and sat me down on the bed.

“Bebita. We told you to stay with Issac,” he scolded as he knelt down. He ran his hands down my arms and squeezes gently. “Are you hurt?”

I shook my head no and looked him up and down. He looked like my Daddy. He sounded like my Daddy. But I couldn’t shake the fear- my Daddy didn’t have sharp pointed teeth.

“Open your mouth,” I demanded in response. “Say Ah.”

He raised an eyebrow but obliged. To my relief, his teeth looked completely normal.

“But I thought..you had..outside, Daddy your teeth,”

“I told you it was a special day,” he said soothingly. “That’s why we keep you inside away from the windows. Our minds play extra scary tricks on us, today of all days.”

He must have seen the fear that I was sure showed on my face because he carefully lifted me up and I clung to him tightly as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Daddy is here baby, you’re okay. You just have to listen when we tell you to do something,” he said softly. “Are you ready to go back down to Issac or do you want Daddy to stay with you?”

“You,” I mumbled into his neck. “Daddy, I’m scared. And I want Mommy.”

He sighed but laid us both down on the bed.

“Lay down on your tummy, I’ll rub your back. Mommy will be home soon. And I know you’re scared, baby, but I promise you you’re safe. Okay?”

I closed my eyes and under the weight of his hand, I felt myself relax. Tiredness washed over me and I closed my eyes.

“Daddy? You promise to keep me safe, always?” I asked sleepily.

“Always baby girl,” my father replied back, “always.”

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fluffy-dixon · 10 months ago

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Title: Rose🌹

Summary: Reader Suffers from anxiety and struggles with a bad attack. Daryl comforts them.

Pairings: Daryl x Reader

Era: Prison

Word count: Approx 940 I wrote this on my iPad.

Warnings: extreme anxiety attack? It’s supposed to be fluff but apparently it’s also angst.

This was my first ever one shot which I have re-written – I wrote this for Valentines Day.

You awoke to a crushing weight on your chest, panic surging as you struggled for breath. Another episode was upon you.

The cell’s darkness was absolute, save for a sliver of light that outlined the door’s draped sheet. It was just enough to search for your blankets—the ones Daryl had gathered for you, knowing they eased your distress. Though not essential, he’d always find a way to bring one back, hiding it for you to discover later.

Desperately, you searched the cot’s emptiness for any sign of the comforting fabric.

But there was nothing, and time was slipping away.

Tears streamed down your face, each one scalding like molten rock. Your throat constricted, a vice tightening and choking off your breath. You screamed silently within.

Air. You needed air.

Swinging your legs out, you hauled yourself into a sitting position, hands bracing on your knees. You adopted the tripod stance Daryl had shown you—tripoding. Gasping, you tried to steady your breathing, passing out was not an option.

Inhale through your nose, count to four, exhale. Again, inhale, count to three but relief eluded you; none of the learned techniques were working.

You needed air.

The tingling in your hands spread, a fiery sensation engulfing your arms, neck, and face.

Reaching for the oil lamp you kept for emergencies, you overextended, expelling the last of your breath as the lamp crashed to the floor, shattering.

The noise was sure to draw attention, giving the council yet another reason to cast you out. You were already a burden; this was the last thing you needed.

Defeated, you collapsed back onto the bed, the cell spinning around you. Your body convulsed, each tremor a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

Then, his voice.

“Y/N? Y’kay in there?!”

The Archer. Your archer. Best friend. Soul mate.

Sweat drenched you, blurring your vision, but his silhouette was unmistakable against the door’s curtain.

A groan of panic escaped you, but it was enough. In an instant, Daryl was there, his arms enveloping you in a protective embrace.

“C’mere, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice a deep, gravelly comfort. You clung to the resonance of his words, a cry of relief breaking free as you felt the tension begin to dissipate.

“The blankets n��working?” You shook your head vigorously, pressing it into the crook of his neck, seeking refuge in his sturdy embrace. The scent of smoke and musk from his skin enveloped you, a comforting aroma you’ve always cherished.

“I can’t—find—” Your words faltered, but he hushed you gently. The dizzying whirl of the room gave way to a soothing rocking motion, cradling you towards calmness.

“Breathe w’me. You can do this, just as I taught ya.”

Inhale through your nose, count to four, then exhale.

A sob escaped your lips, your throat raw and aching with each laboured breath. Daryl’s rough yet tender hands glided over your arms, across your shoulders, and into your damp, dishevelled hair. His touch was a mirror to your disarray. As you looked up, Daryl brushed away the stray hairs from your face, tucking them behind your ears with a gentle precision, his gaze never leaving yours. His deep blue eyes held you captive, mesmerizing you, while the dim light cast shadows that accentuated the contours of his face.

More sobs wracked your body, and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stem the flow of tears. The imaginary shackles around your chest seemed to dissolve, allowing you to breathe freely once more. His method was effective.

“You’re doin’it, girl, I’m proud of ya,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your clammy forehead, undeterred by the dampness. The kiss lingered, grounding you back to the present. When he pulled away, the absence of his warmth left your skin exposed to the chilly air, sealing the moisture from his lips onto your skin. This was a first—a tender, romantic gesture from him. The blush that crept over his cheeks and ears was mirrored by your own shaky, yet genuine smile. You yearned to voice your gratitude to the archer, but all you could manage was to nestle your head against his chest once more, closing your eyes and syncing your breaths with his. Your hand rested on his side, anchoring you as the room’s spin subsided.

Daryl’s free hand began to trace letters on your back. Instead of pain, the path of his fingertip left a trail of goosebumps, pulling you back to reality.

H-A-P-P-Y V-A-L-E-N-T-I-N-E-S.

He released one arm from around your waist and reached into his shirt pocket, pausing as he spoke.

“I carved something for you.” Daryl’s words were always sparse but laden with meaning. You were the only one privy to this side of him, a treasure you held dear. Each rare glimpse of his vulnerability was cherished, knowing the bravery it took for him to reveal himself.

Sitting up a bit more, you watched as Daryl retrieved a small object from his pocket, placing it in his palm and shifting it into the light for you to see. A gasp slipped through your lips, and you covered your mouth, a silent tear tracing your cheek at the sight of his gift.

An oak rose head, intricately carved.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said softly.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #norman reedus #twd #daryl x reader #daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x female reader

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hxney-lemcn · 1 year ago

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Tension — Farmworld! Finn Mertens x gn! reader

summary: reader becomes more incorporated in the kids lives. they even try to give some fighting tips, only to end up sparring with Finn.

tw: sparring (?)

a/n: I'm...not too proud of this one, but I wouldn't say it's terrible. I just think I made it kinda run too long. Also...I'm bad at writing fighting scenes 😭

wc: 1.1k

Chapter Three

Master List | Chapter One

I looked down at Bonnie as she tugged on my arm, drawing my name out in a whine. “Can you tell me a bedtime story?”

I noticed how Bonnie seemed to cling to me the most, constantly wanting to hear more stories about my world. The others weren’t as pushy, probably used to their dad’s antics surrounding magic. Bonnie was the youngest though, so she probably had more leeway.

“Only if your dad’s okay with it,” I replied, looking towards said man.

“Fine,” He huffed.

“Yay!” Bonnie cheered, pulling me up to her room. This wasn’t my first time up here, as a part of my chore list would be to help the kids clean their rooms. The upstairs only held one hallway that led to only four rooms. It was two kids per room, then Finn in his own room.

All the other kids had headed to bed, but tonight, Bonnie wanted me to tuck her in. She pulled me all the way into her room before bouncing on her bed, laying down and looking at me expectantly with a toothy grin. Stormo was already laying down, the soft light of the lamp illuminating the room in a warm orange tone. I walked over to Bonnie, taking her blanket and tucking her in gently. She wiggled excitedly, patting next to her for me to sit down.

As I sat down, I tried to think of a story to tell. I felt even more put on the spot with Finn who stood in the doorway, watching over the scene with his arms crossed.

“What kind of story do you wanna hear?” I asked, looking down at the blonde girl who wiggled her head onto my lap.

“How did you meet daddy in your world?”

I smiled, “I actually helped save him and Jake. So I was flying back home when…”

I told her about how they were attacking a beast to obtain an ingredient for Princess Bubblegum, but odds didn’t seem to be in their favor. So I swooped down and distracted it, giving Finn clearance to knock the beast out. Him and Jake invited me to tag along and hang out sometime, and the rest is history. By the time I finished, Bonnie was passed out, sleeping soundly on my lap.

Not seeing a way out without waking her up, I inched lower into the bed and under the blankets. Slowly moving her head to lay on my chest. Thankfully, my injured wing didn’t need to be bandaged anymore, and the scab was healing quickly. With one wing, I draped it over the two of us like a second blanket. I then realized that I wasn’t able to turn the lantern off.

Finn thankfully, was there to save the day. He blew the lantern out, only to pat my head gently before exiting the room. I felt my cheeks flush, staring at the ceiling. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, my thoughts seemed to be rushing a mile a minute. Finn was closed off, a bit cold and standoffish. And he’s only been warming up to me. I’ve noticed how his stare directed towards me was no longer the harsh untrusting look, but a warmer, more accepting one. He started to talk to me more, taking in my input and sometimes even using my advice. Now, it seemed to even seep into a more physical form of caring.

Letting out a quiet sigh, I closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep.

…

The next day, as I was busy carrying a bale of hay into the barn, I caught sight of Finn teaching Stormo some self defense. I hurried with my task, setting the hay bale in Bartram’s stall. I gave the donkey a quick pat on the head before exiting back outside.

I took a few minutes to catch my breath. Watching as the two Mertens sparred. I was slightly surprised that Finn was willing to teach them how to fight, but on the other hand, I understood why. With gangs who prey on the weak, to the mutant creatures I’ve heard about that prowl outside, they needed to know how to protect themselves, and each other.

“You need to straighten your posture,” I spoke up, noticing how Stormo slightly hunched his shoulders in. “And widen your stance.” Walking over to the two, I fixed Stormos' posture and smiled in satisfaction as he seemed more confident.

This time, he did better during their spar. Finn didn’t seem to put his all in it, but still managed to win. I sighed as Stormo seemed to keep letting his guard down, which let Finn get hits in.

“That was a lot better,” I praised, clapping slightly. “But you gotta keep in mind your openings. With every attack, you gotta think about what you’re leaving vulnerable. Make sure you protect your head and torso.”

“Perhaps a demonstration could help,” Finn spoke up.

A mischievous grin morphed onto my lips, “I don’t know…don’t want the kids thinking I’m stronger than their daddy.”

“Try me.”

Stormo handed me the stick and I got into a defensive position, waiting for Finn to make the first move. A fierce spar it was, as we both got hits on each other. Sweat ran down my forehead as I focused on disarming the blonde haired man. We watched each other intently, and I felt like I was in my element. The urge to flutter my wings and sore around was strong, as when I sparred with my world's Finn, anything was allowed. But I kept myself on the ground, knowing it would be an unfair advantage to use.

Then suddenly, it all seemed to happen so quickly. My breath was knocked out of my lungs as Finn had managed to tackle me to the ground. Both our wooden stick swords fell…who knows where. The atmosphere grew tense as we both panted, sweat covering our bodies. Our gazes were interlocked, and I could feel his breath hit my face.

A few seconds felt like hours before Finn lifted himself off of me. He offered me a hand and helped me stand back up as well.

“It seems like you still need some practice,” He stated. But even with him speaking with his usual monotone, his eyes expressed the tease to that sentence. His lips barely quirked up, before he went back to his stoic expression.

My heart seemed to stutter, not able to make eye contact. A wave of embarrassment hit me even worse when I realized Stormo had just witnessed the entire encounter.

“I went easy on you,” I grumbled, my pride winning me over. “If I were in a real fight I have the high ground.” I fluttered my wings slightly so he understood what I meant.

“Then let’s try again,” He offered, picking up the swords and tossing me mine. “This time, don’t hold back.”

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#finn mertens x reader #adventure time x reader #fionna and cake x reader #farmworld finn x reader #finn mertens #adventure time #fionna and cake #x reader #adventure time imagines #fionna and cake imagines #farmworld finn #farmworld finn mertens

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vellamare · 29 days ago

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MAKING THE TF2 MERCS' ROOMS IN MINECRAFT!!

This is part 2 of my lil' series!! If you wish to see the previous part, which includes Spy and Heavy's rooms, you can see it

HERE!

And part 3 is HERE !!

Enough dilly dally ! Here are the next mercs!!

3) The Scout

I admit, I didn't know what I wanted for this guy at first. Like Heavy, I didn't have many headcanons about him. Unless it was about him getting bullied by everyone else. But then I remembered Lil' Pootis exists and it showed Scout's room fully, so I took a bit of inspiration as a start. And then I took into account that not only is Scout OBSESSED with Tom Jones (hence the sign, which is supposed to say "Bring Tom Jones Memorabilia"), but Scout also enjoys baseball. Taking the inspiration from Lil' Pootis and his established interests into account, this what I came up with.

I raised Scout's bed since I believe he likes to jump down as a bit of adrenaline in the morning. (I headcanon him as an adrenaline junkie and love going headfirst into battle because it's such a rush to run through bullets and dodging people fighting him.) The paintings along the wall are supposed to be posters of Tom Jones while the ones by his bed are pictures of his family and Ms. Pauling (she's not gonna kiss you bro...). Speaking of the wall, I put targets on it so he can practice throwing his baseball at it. So when he's bored he just throws the ball at the targets and continuously catches it once it bounces back. The armor stand with the head is a dummy that's supposed to be an extra target. The little "fridge" is Scout's fridge that he asked Engie to make for him and that's where Scout stores his BONK! The heads beside the bed is supposed to Tom Jones figurines :) Lastly, the three story dresser not only stores Scout's clothes, but they also store his weapons and his comic books (how Pootis inspired me LOL). OH!! Bonus, the lantern in the corner is there because the lamp (which is supposed to be for when Scout reads his books) didn't provide enough light to properly illuminate his room.

4) The Pyro

Okay I admit I did derive a lot of inspiration from Lil' Pootis when building Pyro's room, but I tried to put my own spin onto her room. I will say Pyro's room was a lot of fun to make though. And I hope Pootis won't kill me for the amount of inspiration I've taken..

So first of all, while I haven't shown the door, there is gasoline leaking out because Pyro can be a bit clumsy and spilled the gasoline onto the floor. The gasoline is supposed to be the vases by the door. I wish I could put a vase onto the side to represent the spillage but :/ The giant black spot on the wall is supposed to be a massive burn. Pyro blasted her flamethrower at the wall, but was stopped so she doesn't burn the building to the ground. That clearly didn't stop her considering she has an active fire in the corner with a bunch of torches on the walls gjsgskskh. Aside from the burns, there's also blood on the walls because like Solly, she likes storing body parts (even if she thinks they're stuffed toys). The paintings on her wall are drawings she made herself, one of them are actually a gift from Scout while another is a gift from Engie. Pyro has a little music place too, but her tastes are more... chaotic... compared to Heavy and Spy. The adjustable bookcase is her nightstand where Pyro leaves her lighter and flare gun!! In the center of the room is her little tea party!! Where Pyro has her cake (baked by Heavy at her request) while having the body parts she stole of her victims !! The spider webs in the corner isn't there because of any neglect, it's actually Pyro's pet. She found a spider that one of the mercs were about to kill and she immediately saved it and kept it in her room. Now it hangs out in her room!!

5) The Medic

Medic's room was honestly really easy to work on. I had a clear vision of what I wanted, which made this room a BREEZE. Also yes, Medic does NOT want anyone needing medical attention near the quarters, he wants PEACE go AWAY. So the bars and stone slabs are birdcages. When Engie moved to Medic's room, he requested the birds to be caged at least at night. Medic reluctantly agreed because whatever the husband wants... Since Medic and Engie share this room, they have their own night stands AND lamps, but it's mainly for late night reading or illuminating the room when one of the birdies need something. Beside the bed, there's a little desk with a picture that's supposed to show Engie's family. The tulip on the table is a flower Engie gave to Medic on their first date :) While they share a lot, they don't share a dresser, Medic's idea. Between the dressers is their wedding photo <3 The barrels are where bird food and other things for the birds are stored. The signs are both a label and a reminder of feeding the birds. They both share the responsibility of feeding these nerds. Lastly, the two armor stands by the door are supposed to be their coat racks, they're neglected since they tend to just throw their clothes onto the floor to change into pjs because they're SO tired. They pick up after themselves in the morning tho dw..

And this concludes part 2!! :)

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #team fortress fanart #tf2 scout #tf2 pyro #tf2 medic #engiemedic #including the last tag because I have a LOT of engiemedic headcanons here #sorry guys..#btw I did take some inspiration from Creedei's art for Medic's room :3

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mulders-too-large-shirt · 7 months ago

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s2 episode 7 thoughts

hmm. hmm. that is the sound if me pondering what i just watched.

(i understand that this episode was an analysis into mulder's self-destructive behaviors when faced with overwhelming grief, but. that does not mean i enjoyed vampire hookup time)

well. we shall start from the top!

i read that it was an episode about vampires which i thought was a weird narrative choice because. hello. scully still gone??? but then i remembered that i too ignored the main quest in skyrim to hunt some vampires and that i had no place to judge

(granted, my main quest wasn't finding scully though. might have given that a bit more priority than saving the whole world. because she IS my whole world)

we open with a guy that looks like joe biden meeting with an attractive young woman. they're making out in a hot tub and we just know someone is gonna get slurped upon. and woe, it be upon us! double vampire attack.

back in DC, mulder gets his old office back! it's covered in plastic. he takes some of it off. he adjusts his calendar from may to november, so we see how much time he and scully had been assigned to other tasks, which also has me wondering how she managed to get a new house that quick.

(also, this calendar is... scantily clad women posing next to tools such as hammers and saws. was this allowed? was this acceptable? was it normal? were the 90's a lawless wasteland and mulder an irreparable freak?)

well. scully is an x file now, and he puts her glasses and id into an evidence bag and closes the filing cabinet which was sooooo evil. but he can't bring himself to put her necklace away. oh man. oh he's gotta have it in case he finds her. he has to hold her close. i'm Fine this is Fine.

so. he goes out to california to deal with the joe biden looking fellow being murdered. and he is not wanted on the crime scene. we know this because someone greets him by saying "nobody called the bureau" and he says "well, they should have" and lifts up the tape to let himself in. because one thing about him is that he's gonna let himself into a place he isn't wanted.

he sees the writing of a bible verse in blood on the wall and says something about their grasp of biblical knowledge being "feeble and literal" and i was like okayyy need to have a theological discussion with him

he then scares the other guy who originally wanted to kick him out by reciting a LARGE amount of facts related to similar cases and it's very much giving photographic memory. got me thinking, have we ever seen this man forget something? (directions don't count. they're confusing. but everything else sticks in that man's brain)

he just needs one thing: a phone book. which he uses to call a blood bank and ask about a new guy. who must be the vampire who did this!

so he rolls up to the blood bank and i'm over here struggling because i do Not Do Blood, and i knew at this point this was gonna be a tough watch, but i didn't anticipate the non-blood related reasons why this would be true

anyway he's sniffing around the blood bank and he hears some slurping and wouldn't you know, this dude is tearing into a bag of the red stuff like it's a capri sun. somehow he gets him into custody, where the dude refuses to talk because the lights are on, and mulder comes in with a lamp he put a red filter over, because he was prepared for vampire interrogation.

the vampire is going on about how what he did isn't murder because it's not like animals hunting prey is murder which is. not the greatest approach in terms of legal defense. mulder tells the guard that the guy is delusional and it's best to play along, and he believed this to be true... until he, quite literally, burned to a crisp in the sunlight. and died.

he's talking to the coroner and rattling off a bunch of vampire facts and says he didn't believe in vampires which is so funny to me because like. why is that where you draw the line, my friend. not at bigfoot and definitely not at aliens. but man. vampires are just too out there for spooky mulder. until now!

the coroner has a very funny line: "you are really upsetting me... on several levels" which seems to be the general effect fox mulder has on people. and also because i felt the same way about his dumbass actions during this episode.

coroner finds a stamp on the dead body's hand, which seems to come from a nightclub. so naturally our fbi agent ends up there.

you often see posts saying that "(insert character here) should be at the club". i fear that this is not the case for fox mulder, but it's possible that it's his suit and tie that are throwing me off. he just doesn't seem like he belongs there. i ask myself, where should he be instead? perhaps some sort of star wars convention would suit him better. a book signing with some author he likes. idk, an interior decorating festival. not here.

i shall use my verbatim words to walk you through the next scene:

"pause. he's talking to a woman who was looking into a compact without a mirror. so. vampire suspect. and now why are they getting so close together. and getting a drink. okay now they're leaving to a new spot together? AFTER she admits to vampirism"

(here she did some stuff that required me to look away from my screen due to my Weak Constitution. but also it would have felt necessary to look away anyway because it was getting... charged)

she tries to get him to... suck on her finger... but he won't do it because aids. which is fair. i think that's a smart move, actually. it's just that getting flirty with a vampire he knows was involved with a ton of killings was such a stupid move, i don't know why it's now the braincells start to kick in.

that kills the vibe, though, so she gets another guy to take his place and things escalate.

mulder pulls in at a restaurant called ra. nice! the sun god! and he is... through a window, witnessing some more slurping action. he seems to want to intervene and save this poor soul being feasted upon...

but the poor soul is no poor soul at all! he comes out and decks mulder, and delivers this line with stunning conviction: "i don't know who you are, freak, but we're two consenting adults" and with this, he is forced to flee.

and yeah. it made me laugh. my expectations for the genre were subverted. he signed up for that shit! what he did not sign up for, however, was the next part, where he was killed by the other vampires.

cut to investigating the crime scene. mulder has brought along a forensic dentist, which is a job i had no idea you could go into. he needs to see about those bites, which are very human.

next they go to vampire woman's house. it's a very nice place. mulder... opens her oven. and sees a loaf of bread in there. and i'm thinking, man, i hope this doesn't go where i think it's going. baked goods... ovens... i never want a vampire pregnancy arc. but he cracks open the loaf and something red spills out and somehow, this to him means that she is gone and isn't coming back. he can read the signs of the bread. so add that to his resume. what did the bread tell you, my liege?

he seems to have stayed in her house, however, because he's there when she's back, and says he knows she was using the bread as a charm to ward off evil. because apparently that's an eastern european thing, blood bread to warn off evil. sound off if any eastern europeans in the chat wanna confirm or deny.

anyway. he's IN this woman he thinks is a vampire's HOUSE? what the hell. mulder seriously i need you to stop and think. like you should have stopped and done some thinking a while ago. honestly i'm not mad i'm just disappointed. and he's like "i want to save you come with me before they kill you" ohhh big tough man needs to save her huh. make him feel good inside. huh. certainly no ulterior motive here...

she's monologing about her horrible childhood and how sweet blood tastes. um girl. don't lie to him like that. i have busted my lip open before that stuff does NOT taste sweet and dangerous. it's like a penny with rust that you found in a parking lot.

it seems her vampiric origin story, if to be believed, is that things simply got too kinky. which is a new take on the genre.

(it's also about being caught in an abusive relationship and the damage that inflicts, but it seems abusive boyfriend came into vampirism at his kinky parties and things escalated from there. which. well. it blew the eyebrows clean off my head, to be fair)

at this point we see that he is WEARING SCULLY'S NECKLACE? he says something like "it's from someone i lost" and she says that she "hopes he finds her"

i did not like the undertones here and certainly not the overtones. because i knew where this was going. he was shaving in her bathroom. and let me tell you something: there is only ever a shaving scene in media because the writer needs a way to get some blood out of someone's body and into the real world. and man. i knew it was coming.

but what i didn't see coming was her SHAVING HIM??? girl. i am uncomfy. and she does, of course, cut him, and then they kiss. aggressively. terribly aggressively. can anyone answer what was going on in a satisfactory manner?

but the gag is: the original vampire- who burnt to a crisp in the jail cell, and was the abusive ex she spoke of- HE'S WATCHING THEM THROUGH THE WINDOW!

he breaks in and taunts the vampire woman about how he had to "wait for her to finish" and i was like cool. thank you SO much for that mental image i'm super happy with it. i definitely don't feel like i need a shower. but then he's going on about how he can't be killed.

here, at the tail end of the episode, we learn the rules of vampirism in this world: a vampire cannot be killed by a non-vampire. and a non-vampire BECOMES a vampire by consuming the blood of a believer and also taking a life. it is only here we realize that this woman is not an actual vampire yet, she just appropriates their culture by drinking blood unnecessarily.

mulder's still sleeping in her bed and she's like "you need to leave" and she stabs the wall to make her evil ex think she's killing him. but when they go to break out, mulder ties him up quite handily and he gets in the car to escape with vampire woman. until ANOTHER vampire woman jumps on the hood of their car. and main vampire woman knocks her out for a bit by running into her with said car, which is super effective.

mulder's leaving the place in shambles, his shirt still unbuttoned, wandering down the side of the hill. back at the house, now that we know the vampire rules, main vampire woman says she can finally kill the evil vampire ex. and he's like how!! you haven't had the blood of a believer or taken a life. so. she licks the blood off her hands (unclear if it's hers or mulders tbh) and says she'll take her own life. and drops a match after pouring gasoline.

so. that brings that to an end. and shabby looking mulder sits on a hill as he learns all four in the house died.

the episode ends with him playing with scully's necklace. which i don't even sort of feel like unpacking right now but maybe another time.

probably not, though, because i just didn't like this episode. and yeah, a lot of it comes down to me not wanting to see mulder hook up with people who aren't scully. can you blame me? is it so wrong to have preferences in this world?

but also, narrative wise- do you honestly see the guy fucking off to cali while scully's still missing to deal with an unrelated problem instead of devoting every hour of his life to finding her, like we saw him do in the last episode? you expect me to think he just puts it off for a lil while? the guy who, just last episode, pulled his gun on the ski lift operator to get to the top where she might be a little faster, and then choked his one and only suspect out of fury? you're thinking this is the guy that's gonna go soak up some west coast rays?

and yeah, he was obviously not himself through the episode- very cold and analytical- but c'mon. we all want to bang a vampire. he's not special. i just personally wouldn't do that if my friend were gone. like how is that gonna help the situation. be so for real. time and place!

and also the whole only learning the rules of being a vampire about 5 minutes before they need it to be plot relevant. that annoyed me too.

overall, mulder, like i said, i'm not mad, just disappointed.

let me know what you thought on this episode- i try to not be a hater, but i also understand that hating in small doses can be good for the soul. if it's a widely beloathed episode i'll feel better in my judgement as i join a long tradition of haters who have come before me.

#i think i shall choose to ignore this episode going forward #sometimes he is so violently a Man it's shocking.#like the sexy tool calendar? i cannot keep defending him. throwing tomatoes as we speak. they're splattering his shirt.#man if i was missing and i learned my friend hooked up with a vampire to distract from the sorrow i'd be pissed as hell #i'd be all #and how did that help the situation. did it lead you to find me. why weren't you LOOKING for me.#is this vampire more important to you? is she gonna take my place? answer your 3 am calls and stand up for you against workplace bullying?#and you WORE my NECKLACE? the one my MOTHER GAVE ME? as a birthday present when i was 15? when you FUCKED HER?#THE HOLY CROSS MY CATHOLIC MOM GAVE ME? you wore it while i was MIA? inside a VAMPIRE?#oh i would never let that GO! if i were scully i would simply never let him live that down. it would be awkward asf between us for a bit #sighs. maybe i'm too petty. maybe i hold a grudge too deeply. all things that have been said about me before!#scully baby if ur reading this i would NEVER engage in any sort of recreational activity until i found u again okay? don't settle for less #juni's x files liveblog #2x07 #txf #the x files

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ggomos-maribat · 1 year ago

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NMWYCAM [bonus deleted chapter]

This is a scene i wrote out but couldn't fit into the current chapters :)

Originally Damian was going to find out that Marinette knows their secret in another way...lol he was gonna get badly injured as Robin and Marinette saves him but reveals she knows his identity

***

2:51 a.m. Marinette was still awake, despite the kwamis telling her off. She found herself having excess energy that night, so she decided on sketching under the yellow desk lamp with some music on. All was calm and peaceful until her phone buzzed.

Damian: Hello

Damian: Are you awake? Can I call you right now?

Her keyboard popped up for the reply, but more messages came in.

Damian: You're probably sleeping

Damian: ...

Damian: sorry

Damian: I shouldn't have bothered

Damian: sweet dreams, Marinette

Smiling, she went ahead and pressed the call button. When it took him several rings to answer, she pictured a panicked Damian fumbling to answer his phone.

"What's up?" She asked.

"Did I wake you?" His warm voice filled her ears. "Sorry . . ."

"No, no, I was awake. Couldn't sleep." Marinette propped her legs up on her chair, tucking them to her chest. She saw a groggy Tikki peek out of her small blanket but she waved the kwami off to go back to sleep. "Is something the matter?"

"No, I . . . I was just lying in bed and got the sudden urge to talk to you," Damian recounted. "Is that strange?"

Marinette brought the back of her hand to her reddened cheek. This boy. "I think that means you miss me, Damian," she laughed. "How was patrol?"

"It went smoothly. We disrupted a smuggling operation and put Riddler back in Arkham. You? What were you doing?"

"Ah just drawing out some ideas. Nothing too important." Snuggled in her blanket under the calm night and talking to Damian was like a tight embrace, Marinette realized. "I hope you didn't push yourself too hard."

A scoff sounded out from Damian. "Father threatened to bench me when I chased after the Riddler. The others kept watching me like I'll disappear into thin air."

"They're just worried about you, you know. As they should be."

"I only need you to worry about me." A long pause. Then a long sigh. "Sorry, I . . . I don't know why I said that."

Marinette hummed, feeling more heat crawl under her skin. "It's alright. They say your inhibitions are looser at night, especially when you're tired. But it's okay to be vulnerable; it's just me."

"What do you mean by that? 'It's just you'?"

"I mean I understand that you're being honest about whatever you say to me right now. I won't judge you for it. I won't even bring it up tomorrow if that's what you want." She pressed her phone closer to her ear. "I don't want you to feel that you need to keep something to yourself just because it's me hearing your words."

". . . How come you always say the right thing?"

"I guess it's my forte?"

"What if I can't say the right things?"

"Just talking to you like this is enough for me," Marinette said. "I can be the one good with words, and you can be the one good with actions. You always are."

"That's not fair at all. You are also good with actions."

That elicited another laugh from her. "But you are very good at taking care of people through your gestures. Not a lot can do that."

"You're the only one who has ever said that."

"'Cause I'm the only one who notices."

Soon, whilst they talk, Marinette noticed that he was mumbling the ends of his words. Later on when she finished her amusing story about a deal with a client, she didn't hear a reply, but instead, light snoring at the other end of the line.

He sounds so relaxed. Now she had the urge to look at his sleeping face.

"Good night, Damian," she whispered. "I miss you too."

#maribat fic #maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #dc x miraculous #NMWYCAM #PA!Marinette

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a-killer-obsession · 6 months ago

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Android!Killer notes and lore

Post will probably be updated over time as I think of more things 💙

Official name: Killer 2.0. Bounty posters call him Metal Man Killer. Marines considered him a new pirate, so he had to start his bounty from scratch, and as such is no longer considered a Supernova

Built by Kid to deal with his grief after Killer dies. Android contains his brain, retrieved from his original body after it took too much damage to support life

If you see posts with him interacting with original Killer its cos its just a fun lighthearted alternate timeline where Kid just built him as a replacement just in case. Don't ask me how he gave it Killer's personality, those posts are just for the giggles

Uses his original mask (repaired and restored) as headpiece. Lights have been installed in the holes to fill the gaps and hide the underlying electronics and brain

Helmet contains lenses for vision. Equiped with higher level vision such as nightvision, thermal imagining and xray

Aerial on side of helmet allows for better hearing as well as allowing others to communicate with him directly via den-den

Just as strong and agile as he was in his human body, though it did take a lot of physical rehab to get used to the mechanical body

Metal sections made from high quality metals making him essentially bullet proof

Basically, he's a purpose built super soldier

Water resistant, but not submerge safe. Kid is a skilled engineer, but hes no Vegapunk. Killer 2.0 can not submerge his chest section, or his systems will fail to work, and much like a devil fruit user he would sink like a stone. He can be pulled out and repaired, his brain is well protected, but he can't save himself

Chest, abdomen and buttocks are squishy, imagine the texture/firmness of those silicone chicken fillets you use to make your tits look bigger

Has a cock that's essentially a dildo that can emerge from a slit in the rubber between his legs, and yes it can vibrate

He can feel touch on most of his body, though mostly it just feels like pressure, he's basically a touch lamp, but Kid had Franky help him wire some parts to feel more, such as his hands and dick, allowing for pleasure, though he doesn't really have the ability to 'finish'. He can recieve an artificial boost of hormones to simulate pleasure and satisfaction but thats as close as it gets

Why did Kid give him a dick? Because he's a good friend, that's why totally no other reason

No mouth or asshole though, bit of an oversight on Kid's part tbh

Doesn't actually plug his hair in to sleep, those cables are entirely just scrap for show, hastily spraypainted to replicate Killer's hair. He does get plugged in to charge, but his cable comes out of the panel on of of his hands (both hands have charging cables for convenience so he can use whichever side is easier)

Lights flash when he's on charge because Kid stole the wiring and coding from some random electronic. He regrets it every fucking night.

Spends a lot of time oiling and polishing his hair cables and touching up the paint, it's sort of a force of habit but mostly it makes him feel more normal. Ties his hair up with zipties sometimes.

Serious mental health issues. I mean come on, the dude went through all the Wano bullshit, literally fucking died, and now he's not even human. Please someone get him some therapy. Sometimes uses his old lipstick to draw a big smile on his mask when he's having a mental breakdown.

Still loves to cook, but now he has to have a taste tester with him because he has no capacity to eat or taste

Kid obsessively does maintenance on him every single day because he can't bear to lose him again

Kid also needs therapy. This whole android situation is a cry for help tbh

Kid did his best to replicate Killer's voice, but there's something electronic and uncanny about it

All the Android AU posts

Refs:

#android!killer #one piece oc #massacre soldier killer #killer one piece

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queerheadcanoncentral · 5 months ago

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Request from @gfuudb

"House and Wilson: so its like an episode of house execpt its Wilson treating a patient but he suddenly pukes blood and then collapses and then its a lil time skip of like 10 minutes and its House storming in to his office and raises his voice as he tells everyone what happened to Wilson and that their taking the case so he’s frantically having the team (of your choice whether its the original three or the second ones or a mix) give him ideas ect. And it ends in fluff pls"

(It's my first time writing anything like that so I'm sorry if it's a bit rough. Also all the medical information is from only one article to it's probably not medically accurate)

—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—

It was a slow morning for everyone. Especially for Wilson. No face to face meetings with patients, just some prescription renewals and an email consult or two.

Everything was going great, except a slight cough that didn't seem to want to leave him, even House hasn’t bothered him today yet.

As he was looking over an email a strong coughing fit hit him, when it subsided his stomach was turning, he got up to get another mug of water and the room started to spin, he felt the acidic saliva build up in his mouth and the contents of his stomach emptied out of him. Just for a brief second he managed to notice that the liquid on the floor was a copperish red color, before it all went dark.

“You’ll never guess what cuddy is wearing toda- Wilson?” Whether House walked in at the right moment or not is up for debate, because he did probably save his life but oh boy is he not going to let go of the position that he found Wilson in, with his ass up and his face flat on the carpet.

He promptly walked out of Wilson's office and into his own. “Cutner, Taub. Go help Wilson in his office.” If you didn’t know House you’d probably think that he is an asshole for not immediately running to help his beloved friend. But letting someone else, someone more physically able, take care of Wilson while he figures out what’s wrong with him is the best thing he could do right now. “What’s the differential for vomiting blood and loss of consciousness? Go.” “Wait, is this about Wilson? Shouldn’t we help him?” “Yes, that’s why I sent Taub and Cutner there, and we can help him even more if we figure out what’s wrong with him. Symptoms! Go!” “Could be stomach cancer,” said Thirteen. “Or pancreatic.” added Foreman. "Or esophageal.” “Good test him for cancer markers.”

“Hi Thirteen." “Oh, you’re awake. That’s good. Just need to draw some blood.” “What are you testing me for?” There was a moment of silence. The air was thick and Wilson already knew the answer. “You’re looking for cancer. That would be ironic. Spent my entire life fighting it just to end up dying from it.” “It might not be it. We’re just exploring all the possibilities.” “Yeah, yeah, I know how it goes. I’ve done this a million times.” “Has House visited you?” “No he hasn’t. And he probably won't, at least I hope that he doesn’t, because that would mean that he gave up on me.”

There isn’t much that you can do in a situation like this except sit around and pray that it isn’t the worst.

“It’s negative for all cancer markers.” The atmosphere in House’s office is gloom. The lights are off with the exception of his desk lamp. House caught his ball that he was playing with and looked up at Thirteen. “We need to biopsy. Tell Chase to get the OR ready.”

During the operation the whole team was anxiously waiting in their office. Altho they didn’t talk to or interact with Wilson all that much they still cared about him. Whether it’s because of the proximity of having their offices share a wall or because he was their bosses best friend, it doesn’t seem to matter. So when Case finally walked into their office they shot out of the seats and House came in from his, where he was locked for basically the whole day.

“Did any of you check his stomach before you ordered the biopsy?” “No, we just checked his blood for cancer markers.” answered Thirteen. “It wasn’t cancer. It’s just some peptic ulcers.” with that he left.

There was a stunned silence that was broken by- “YOU IDIOTS! You didn’t check his stomach!?” “You just told us to run a blood panel” “I’m not talking about you! I’m talking about those two idiots who don’t know that when you check in a patient with GI issues the first thing you do is look into their stomach!” “We’re so sorr-” Taub didn’t manage to finish his sentence because House was already out the door on his way to Wilson.

When Wilson woke up after his surgery, the first thing he saw was a pair of extremely blue eyes staring right into his soul… but lovingly? “How are you feeling?” “Good. Like I was hit by a bus... so is it cancer?” “No. It’s just an ulcer. They got it fixed right away.” He breathed a sigh of relief. But he had one more question on his mind. “Then why did I pass out?” “Your body was too weak to handle the strain of vomiting. You weren’t eating enough lately because it felt like something was chewing through your stomach, which it was.” “So I just take some pills and I’ll be fine.” “A while of IV nutrition first but after that,” Wilson felt House's hand on his and he intertwined their fingers with a relaxed smile. “,yeah. You’ll be fine.”

Bonus:

After Wilson gets off the IV and can eat regular food, House always makes sure that he eats a few times a day and asks if he has any symptoms to make check that the ulcer isn't coming back.

If they are hanging out at House’s place, he cooks food for him that won’t upset his stomach.

#house md #hilson #gregory house x james wilson #james wilson headcanons #malpractice md

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pigtailedgirl · 4 days ago

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So You Must Remember This is loaded with a lot of goodies.

Dief and the junk-food. Fraser upside down in RCMP sweats. Louis and Huey and Fraser and Ray playing poker. Elaine and her lamp judgment. Welsh and his past stake-out griefs. Mini car chases. Suzanne Chapin!

But oh man the set up for the mid-season episode! The tr-angulation as they say.

It's the first onion peel hint of Victoria.

It's the set-up of Fraser's love issues incoming. That Ray's pipe-dreams on romance reflects Fraser's. Those harsh could have been realities also become.

I feel like this scene is overlooked.

I wanna talk about the Fraser and Ray conversation in the canteen.

What it layers in on the build/knock down arc of them incoming.

Of love makes you blind.

Of this shot that missed by off aim and not by Fraser diving in-between.

Of Ray is so desperate to see a sign of love from Chapin. So easy to say I think I'm in love with her.

He's ignoring another one right fucking there. The one sticking by him all episode.

The fatal flaw of thinking Fraser is too perfect, too inhuman to be in love that Ray holds.

The Mountie strike.

And it's so loaded.

Because there is the line of Fraser's image being this wondrous thing, the draw, especially to Ray in series and yet it's also not like Ray or others are entirely fooled by. It's a facet judged too.

So there is that divide between them, of how much you are understanding the other, and then here it's loaded down as an addition, as Ray steamrolls right over Fraser's unhappy pause to add what does he, Fraser, know about women?

Yes the show is hetero, but wow, making it specify women huh. Making it take the romantic angle against.

Which is either brutally true and honest. Fraser doesn't and or doesn't care to. Or Fraser has thrown cover so well that, yes it's easy to think he doesn't have experience/feeling on love by his choice.

It's not like Fraser doesn't consciously present a perception of duty first or rebuff attractions, now doesn't he?

How should Ray know different?

If Fraser never plays poker but also never has tells and then sandbags. Well here, it's the first crack, the little niggling uh-oh answer that Ray should have shut up enough to hear this time.

I mean the episode is screaming don't follow the advice practically from Ray as usual. Because the whole flaw of Ray is his damn American ignorance flaw covering the good heart. Because Ray is presented as a failure in the dating scene and beyond, and Ray is ping-ponging the whole episode between it's love with Chapin from our soul bond to I deserve all my fail for wanting love every time. For not knowing the person, to anyways saved me, and I know in soul, so let em go, oh you right I didn't know them at all but still love wins!

*Smacks him again in the forehead*

BUT DOESN'T THIS SOUND FAMILIAR?

Not only to Victoria either.

Which the show will re-visit to have Fraser re-think and want to choose.

The love, not the fail. And end up failing harder.

Starting right here, before Victoria is mere a picture and idea to him. Leading to the dramatic declaration ... "The only woman I ever loved."

Again with that qualifier.

And of course the season will conclude with the Victoria arc of you need both the genuine love and the knowing.

I'm just saying this episode has a lot going on.

___________

Transcript:

Fraser: She had the perfect shot Fraser, she almost killed me.

Fraser: No she didn't Ray. She missed you by seventeen centimeters.

Vecchio: What?

Fraser: She was firing a Barretta 9mm, the light was at her back. The truck was barely moving. I pulled this out of the wall from behind you.

Vecchio: What are you saying? She missed me on purpose?

Fraser: Her trajectory was off line by almost eight degrees which almost impossible to do unless you're trying.

Vecchio: Why?

Fraser: I don't know.

Vecchio: But maybe I do. Maybe I saw it in her eyes.

Fraser: Ray you've only known this woman a few seconds while you had a concussion.

Vecchio: Well it doesn't matter Fraser. I mean 10 seconds, 10 years, chemistry is chemistry. I figure Bodine's got something on her. Maybe she did something foolish when she was young and Bodine is blackmailing her into helping him.

Fraser: Well I suppose it's a theory but--

Vecchio: She really wants to get out. That's why she's sending me signals Fraser, she wants me to rescue her.

Fraser: Ray, Ray, maybe you shouldn't think about this right now.

Vecchio: No I mean come on how often does a thing like this happen. Has it ever happened to you?

Fraser: Well I I uh

Vecchio: Of course not, you're a Mountie. What does a Mountie know about women? ...I think I'm in love with her Fraser.

#due south #f/v #fraser/vecchio #benton fraser #ray vecchio #you must remember this #due south meta #like there are things that seem loaded in #and my ass is beginning to question that level of #probably not gay subtext #but definitely something subtext #a brewing characterization epic work at least #and like the repetition of stuff is wild in season 1 #myself floored thinking haggis almost ended season 1 with ray's last line to fraser being 'i can't understand you"#and thank you jesus of not and Letting Go and ALL THAT #season 1 writing was on fire

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ask-sebastian · 9 days ago

Note

The soft glow of the lamp light illuminated the walkway despite the oncoming dusk, trees trimmed with tinsel and ornaments of all sorts shimmering beneath. The grounds were quiet with so many students gone for winter break. The castle was like a slumbering giant, about to wake...but for now, a well earned moment of peace for those who had stayed.

Theo had taken the long way down to the viaduct bridge, hands tossing over a pair of stone tokens currently in the pocket of her robe. Her hands turning them over and over and over. She had almost turned around a few times, but the weight of them grounded her. She continued to make her way down to meet the person she had been spending most of the break with.

She feels heat creep across her skin as she recalls just how exactly they had been spending that time. An empty school meant that broom closets were not the only option, after all.

Despite it all, she was glad for it. Winter had been a season that had grabbed an icy hold of her, willing to subdue her into a slumber too, but despite its best attempts, something in her had been awoken. And she had someone to thank for that. She spots the familiar mess of unruly brown hair leaning over the bridge’s edge, driving herself forward like a moth to a flame.

“Hello,” she says, excitement striking through her suddenly. It paints a crooked grin on her lips while she bumps his shoulder in greeting.

Perhaps it was just the thrill of never knowing when he may hex her with a pair of antlers again that made her smile. Though… she would certainly make her suggestions known on how they might put them to better use the second time around. For now, she saves the thought for later.

“I have something for you. And no. Don’t protest.”

She reaches for Sebastian’s hand and impatiently draws it towards her. Turning it over, her eyes subtly scanning for any new cuts or bruises. With luck, he wouldn’t notice. She knew Sebastian had a penchant for trouble, but just because she accepted who he was, it didn’t mean she didn’t worry from time to time. Satisfied with the state of his hands, she removes her grasp to reach back into her pocket, pausing slightly before placing it into his outstretched palm. “Since we both like to play with fire, I thought you could use some that wouldn’t burn things down for a change.”

She looks down expectantly, proud of her creation, but for now it’s just a regular rock sitting stupidly in his hand.

Theo curses with a blush, realizing she does, indeed, need to show him how the special rock actually works.

“Oh! Right…well if you don’t mind…” Her hand comes back to his, “If you close your fingers over it, like this…” She murmurs softly, gently pressing his fingers down beneath her own until his hand curls into a fist.

They stay there for a beat, and Theo’s heart thuds, until at last a soft glow starts to illuminate the space between Sebastian’s fingers. She sighs in relief, and opens his hand to reveal a small blossom of fire that has taken the place of the stone. Her forehead bends closer to his as she admires the way it dances in his palm, their faces painted in the soft glow of its warmth.

“It conjures an everlasting flame. I thought you could use it when you’re traveling” She explains with a slight tinge of feral delight at her own creation as she continues, “I also happen to have its pair. So, should you ever get in trouble… it would light mine up too. Just in case.”

Her tone shifts as she levels him with a flat stare, “And for Merlin’s sake, no I don’t mean ‘I got my trousers stolen again’ trouble..You’re on your own for that.”

Her expression softens slightly, “Not that I don’t presume you’re not perfectly capable of handling things on your own, or even prefer it. But- just in case.” She stops her rambling, proudly pulling out a smaller, gold token from her pocket, “Plus, I made one for Nosy, too.”

It wasn’t much, just a bit of basic enchantment. Theo was well aware it was something he could have probably conjured by himself, but what she really wanted to give him was the reassurance that he would not be alone. Not between Nosy, her, or any of their friends.

“And it also doubles as a pretty good regular rock if you ever want to throw it at Montrose again.” She breaks the silence, laughing softly.

She steals another glance, a bad habit she has formed. Among a few others. But this time she decides not to stifle the grin that blooms while her hand holds on to his. The smile offered is one filled with distinct warmth.

“Merry Christmas.”

Sebastian leant his forearms on the stone balustrade to peek over the side to the glassy water below. At such a height, only a hazy reflection silhouetted by brazier light greeted him in return. The white of his warm breath in the heavy, damp air briefly obscured the vision. His eyes lifted briefly to the sky, taking in the stars steadily winking into view as the straggling vestiges of day faded to dusk. Were there more clouds, he would anticipate fresh snowfall.

A shuffle of footfall drew his attention back. A pair of students huddled closely and decked from head to toe in festive trimming but nary a coat or scarf in sight scurried past. Their unintelligible conversation was a low mixture of fervent whispers and excited giggles as they made quickly towards the warm refuge of the castle and the merrymaking inside. It was the exact thing Sebastian purposely avoided. Objectively, he appreciated the cheer of the season. However, like his relationships with most things, his one with the holiday was complicated.

His breath puffed once again like dragon smoke. Though it was not uncommonly cold, it was uncommonly still, and the rapidly plummeting temperature was an oddly comforting constant. To be saved from the savage bite of winter wind across the viaduct bridge, Sebastian considered the calm that evening to be nature’s merciful gift as he awaited Theo’s arrival.

His other oddly comforting constant appeared beside his shoulder with a chipper greeting and gentle nudge.

“Theodora.” The sultry drawl with which he answered was increasingly less voluntary, even when she vexed him. Especially when she vexed him. The last time he’d been stern with her in a fit of temper, she enjoyed the punishment far too much.

He turned and relaxed against the railing in a languid repose as Theo insistently pulled his hand. He didn’t resist but rather offered it freely, though his eyebrow winged with amused curiosity at the subtle inspection. Given how much of each other they had already explored, he assumed they were both well acquainted with the finer details of their physical topographies.

Of course, that hadn’t stop him from taking every opportunity to repeatedly memorise her more delicate hills and valleys either.

Sebastian’s brow rose further at the stone she set in his palm. He joined her in waiting with bated breath, only for it to remain there — stubbornly stoney.

“Oh! Right…well if you don’t mind…”

He didn’t. Not in the slightest, and that was entirely the problem. Theo’s hand closed over his and the ease with which he settled into the intimacy of her touch was a singular kind of euphoria. For all his experience indulging baser pleasures, it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. An insatiable craving and indescribable high Sebastian chased with an addict’s compulsion.

His thumb skimmed the tops of her chilled fingers as he basked in her high colour and the myriad of emotions playing across her face, unabashedly admiring her with the same earnestness she admired the heatless flame in their clasped hands.

Playing with fire, indeed. Always an irresistible temptation, and for the number of times he was warned he would meet a premature end by it, he never truly contradicted it. He knew his path. What became of him after the catacombs was a purposeful metamorphosis, carefully curated for survival and strategically weaponised when necessary. Sebastian was not ignorant to the danger — mortal and otherwise — he embodied. An admission not of arrogance but rather the shrewd acknowledgment of intricate walls he had built around the immutable darkness staining whatever remained of his broken humanity. Walls that held strong and fast for everyone else, but much to his infinite chagrin, wisped away into the ether for her. As if they never existed at all.

Infuriating.

Frightening.

Fascinating.

He had more questions than answers. Not an unfamiliar state of being. He was briefly reminded of his research into twin flames and the enigmatic magic bonded souls fostered. His knowledge of such connections was limited and even still, they were fanciful notions that he preferred to dismiss rather than entertain.

The thought that she may be fated to the same eventual misery as he was not at all comforting, but still it had become impossible to keep Theo at arm’s length. As equally impossible as it was for him to categorise the exact effect she had on him. How his magic not only welcomed her in but hungrily sought her out. He may not fully understand it, but he was clever enough to recognise it ran fathoms deeper than anticipated.

Sebastian was also clever enough to recognise that she was undeniably unsafe with him.

Despite knowing she deserved better than he could offer: an unacceptable present and an impossible future, his desire was selfish and greedy, and he was not good or strong enough to push her away for her own sake. The possessive hold his weakness took was a startling realisation when he’d dropped a pile of ill-gotten coin into the waiting hands of a muggle artisan some months ago.

The stark, inescapable fact was that what was not reduced to ash in his hands slowly eroded from the same poison that corroded his soul. It was only a matter of time. Perhaps when that time came, the gift resting in his pocket would remind her of fonder memories.

“May Montrose find comfort in the fact that I am unwilling to part so easily with this particular stone,” he said, trying to break through the heavy thoughts with a bit of levity. “And you may wish to give Nosy’s gift to him personally. I suspect it will be better received coming directly from you. He’s not best pleased with me at the moment.”

Remembering the chill he’d felt on Theo’s skin, Sebastian shifted just enough to remove his coat. Whether her robes were sufficiently warm was inconsequential to him.

“But most of all, thank you. I shall always keep it close.” No matter the complications of the rest, that much was true. He draped the coat across her shoulders, pulling the sides closer to trap what heat he could as he tugged her further into the open cradle of his body. “I hope you will do the same, and not think twice about using it should you ever find yourself in trouble.”

He took a long, silent moment to just appreciate how the brazier light illuminated Theo’s hair like wildfire.

“I have something for you.” He echoed her earlier words as his hand splayed across the familiar curve of her hip before disappearing into his coat pocket. His voice dropped to a playful murmur despite their already close proximity – and being the only souls fool enough to be outdoors in such weather. Though if he were the poetic sort, he’d claim they generated plenty of their own warmth. “And no, don’t protest.”

Sebastian pulled out small, gold and green foiled box. He unashamedly caressed the tender skin of Theo’s wrist as he turned her palm over and placed it in her hand.

He accepted the fleeting nature of their realities and took his indulgences as he could. For that, he refused to apologise.

“Happy Christmas.” His impatience disallowed any sort of ceremony, and he opened lid to reveal a cast pewter dragonfly intricately set with a jigsaw of polished gemstones. Its stained glass wings slightly askew, all imbued with the dramatic colours of a bruised Highland twilight.

He gingerly grasped the chain and lifted it from its velvety cushion. “It’s muggle made. I happened upon the artist whilst last traversing the coast. Unfortunately, it was damaged in transit on my return to Hogwarts and the metal, unsurprisingly, does not conduct magic well.“ His fingertip ran over the odd angles of the wings as he pointed out the obvious repair points. “I travelled back at first opportunity, but the artist had already moved on, so I tried my own hand at non-magical metallurgy. A fascinating art — or science, I am unsure how it’s classified. Either way, I can’t say I am proficient or even basically skilled, but…”

He was rambling.

Sebastian cleared his throat, clasping Theo’s gift to him in his free hand as he once again conjured the everlasting flame. He held it behind the bauble and a kaleidoscope of refracted light dance between them. His gaze slid back to her, and the tense lines that always pulled at his eyes softened slightly.

“…perhaps its beauty is more unique for its imperfections.”

With as little pomp as he unboxed it, he tucked the trinket safely away. “I was told to hang it by a window to catch the sunlight.” He angled her a lazy smile. “All the more reason to be thankful you are not a Slytherin.” Sebastian extinguished the flame with a deft flick of his wrist and slid the stone into his trouser pocket.

Which reminded him.

“Now, as for my trousers…” Sebastian's tone turned effortlessly provocative. He took the box from her hand and carefully slipped it into her pocket, his lazy smile melting into one far more devilish as his hands snaked into the warmth between his coat and her robes. He drew her closer, fingertips tracing the line of her spine when he bent forward to whisper in her ear. “Should they be thieved, it’s no great mystery who I shall investigate first.” He pulled back, his lips lightly brushing across the fine sweep of her cheek before pressing a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You are, after all, my favourite repeat offender.”

#ask-sebastian #theodoradevlin #hl rp #Sebastian/Theo: Twin Flames and Trouser Thieves

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