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sebastianswallows · 7 months ago

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The English Client — Twenty-three

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: angst, fluff, smut

— WORDCOUNT: 3.7k

— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir

He walked her home that evening. They closed up earlier than usual as Ambrogio ostensibly wanted to be left alone. “Still not used to working during daytime hours,” Tom said, “it makes him tired and reclusive and crankier than usual. You know how it is.” He parted from her with a kiss on the cheek. She had felt alright when they said goodbye but as the night advanced she started to get that feeling again, that emptiness in her chest and fogginess around her head and numbness all across her body. She missed him. Missed holding him, and being held…

It came naturally to go to bed early — as if, by magic, she could find him waiting for her in her dreams. To keep her loneliness at bay she put a record on. It hardly helped because when the song called Ne me quitte pas began to play it made her even more yearnful. The pillow was hardly a substitute for Tom’s long, thin body, although it smelled a bit like him by now. And her weighty duvet, no matter how she wrapped it around herself, could not feel like his arms. She buried her face into the pillow and heaved a trembling sigh. She wanted him, she wanted him quite selfishly, and for one mad moment thought about getting dressed and going out to him just to see him for a bit and hear his voice. The record wavered on reciting its sad melody while outside the strong winds that had cleared the sky earlier battered at her window.

She squeezed her eyes once tightly and sighed, then rolled out of bed disentangling herself from everything and went over to the armchair.

“You’re so stupid,” she mumbled as she picked up the phone. “So stupid and needy…”

Tom was gloating, albeit privately, about the outcomes of the day. He’d eliminated Oso, gotten the symbolic revenge over the parasite by throwing him into the trash, and found his little secret stockpile too as a result. He was lucky his unwitting partner in crime had found that key in the vampire’s remains, although he’d likely have found it as well if he’d bothered to look. With the rest of his afternoon free he had set to looking around for any place the key could fit. It didn’t look like a normal key, that was for sure, with half its body being cut through with indentations rather than teeth. He looked around Oso’s bedroom, inside his coffin, the auction room — before finally coming upon a little orifice in the desk in the office across from their shared one, which at first glance looked rather like a hole where a screw had gone loose.

In the organised chaos, Tom found lists of all past auctions and what had been won by whom. He also found a few books of curses which he initially thought were part of the collection, but soon realised they were Ambrogio’s own. Most conveniently of all, however, he found details of the security charm Ambrogio had set on the books. Tom left most of his findings back in the undershop to study later, but that notebook, he took with him.

He wasn’t even half done deciphering its arcane scribbles, ancient languages, and profane geometry, when the phone rang.

“Hello?” he answered with a groan, holding the receiver between his ear and shoulder.

“Tom?”

Of course it was her. No one else would call him.

“Sweetheart,” he smiled.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Not at all. And how come you’re still up?”

“I couldn’t sleep…”

“Clearly.”

“I just missed… talking to you. I guess I thought I’d feel better if I heard your voice.”

Tom grinned and put the dry old tome down to hold the phone up properly. “And do you?”

“I can’t tell yet,” she said, sultry and tired. “Talk some more.”

“Is that… sad French music you’re listening to?”

“It’s Belgian.”

“Pardonnez-moi,” he scoffed.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with the French, quit sneering.”

“So you’ve said…”

“And you know I love Paris and want to go someday.”

“Sadly, yes, I remember.”

“What were you doing, anyway?”

“Reading,” said Tom, pushing the notebook away as if she could have seen it. He had to remind himself this was nothing like a floo call.

“At this hour? Good grief, Tom.”

“It’s only midnight. Perfect time for reading.”

She said nothing, but he thought he heard her giggle.

“What were you doing?” he asked.

“Listening to sad music. And missing you.”

He found himself smiling and asked something rather foolish. “Do you want me to come over?”

“No, no, certainly not. It’s so cold out, and late…”

“Are you sure? I can be there quite quickly,” he grinned. He hadn’t tried it yet, but he was sure he could Apparate directly inside her building if he focused.

“Yes, I’m sure… It’s enough to be able to talk to you.”

Tom hummed thoughtfully.

“Do you want to go to work together tomorrow?” she asked.

“Alright. I can wait for you outside your building.”

“I’d like that…”

“And I’ll be the one to treat you to tea this time. I still have your… large bottle,” he stumbled.

“The thermos?” she laughed. “I forgot all about it… I’d love it if you brought tea. You’re always so good at making it.”

His face fought back a big, proud grin. It felt awkward to be complimented for something so plain.

“I’ll see you in the morning, then,” said Tom, already thinking of what he’d wear tomorrow.

“Until morning, then… Good night, Tom.”

“Good night.”

“Sweet dreams.”

“And stop listening to that whiny music.”

“No.”

He was left with his mouth open when she hung up.

III

She wasn’t joking when she said the night was cold. Tom could see it in the little icicles that formed on the overgrown grass by the road rather than feel it for himself. He had been more than simply cold since his second Horcrux… There was a numbness, even, outside as well as inwardly. He pulled his coat tighter around himself and looked up. Her window was dark. It would have been, at three AM. The decision to visit her came more easily to him than he expected… They were partners in crime for two murders now, and that was more than he could say of even his Knights of Walpurgis. There was a magic in taking a life, of forcing it between the worlds. Magic they had done together even if she was a muggle — whether it applied to vampires was merely a philosophical question.

And while Tom had considered Apparating right to her, he quickly realised it would have cheapened the act. That did not prevent him, however, from forcing her lock open with Alohomora. Her flat was as silent as a crypt and just as dark. He tiptoed into the bedroom and found her sleeping on her front, and on what Tom considered was “his” side of the bed. Moving slowly, he took his clothes off and piled them blindly on the armchair. The only risk to waking her up was when he’d crawl into bed — but to his surprise, she didn’t wake. Tom felt quite smug about his gift at sneaking, and all without resorting to any muffling spells. He’d half looked forward to surprising her and hearing the shift in her voice when she realised he was there… But that could wait until the morning. For now, he allowed himself to enjoy sliding beneath her blankets and wrapping an arm around her to warm his naked body.

Everything felt quieter than usual, heavier, like a dream pulling her back. She really didn’t want to wake up but she knew her alarm would start ringing in a moment. She stretched and her feet peeked out of the blanket, but when she tucked them back inside they came across something hard and cold and smooth. It took her a moment to realise it was a body.

“AAAAHHH!”

“Ow!”

“Tom?! W-what are you doing here?”

“Surprise,” he mumbled while he held his nose.

“Oh no, did I hit you?”

“No, you just have very sharp elbows…”

She giggled and moved a little closer, lifting the duvet to cover them both up to the neck. “Let me kiss it better,” she said, reaching out to cup his cheek.

“No thank you.”

“You’re so adorable when you pout… Like a little kitty. My own Tomcat.”

He mumbled something but didn’t protest when she eased his hand away and pecked a kiss on the tip of his nose. It was only a little red.

“Who did you expect?” he grumbled.

“Nobody! That’s why I was scared. What are you doing here?” she asked as she parted from him, stretching toward the bedside table to check the time.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me…”

“And I thought we agreed to see each other in the morning.”

“It is the morning.”

“Tom, it’s six thirty AM.”

“Exactly.”

She fell back onto her pillow and sighed but soon she started laughing. One look at Tom fussing over his pretty face, his hair a mess and eyes all bleary, was enough to calm her heart and put a smile upon her face.

“You really did scare me,” she said as she curled up beside him. “How did you even get inside?”

He paused at her question then answered plainly, “I picked your lock.”

“Tom!”

“I locked it back up afterwards.”

She frowned and shook her head but couldn’t stay upset with him for long. “Did I hurt you badly?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re cute when you’re trying to be manly. Let me kiss it again.”

“No.”

“So you slipped into my bed why…?” she asked with a cocked brow. “Fine then. No kisses for you.”

Tom sighed and rolled his eyes then leaned forward to cage her in his arms. He tried to frown menacingly but she gave him that calm, confident look she had when she guessed exactly what he wanted. It didn’t happen often, as Tom was quite unlike everyone else she knew, but in those moments it was like she spoke his secret language and saw into the heart of him. And while signs of motherly affection were foreign things to Tom he responded well to other kinds of love. He leaned down slowly and kissed her lips. She sighed — he was so much softer in the morning. She laid back and smiled into the kiss, keeping her eyes closed and her hands nice and warm beneath the covers, and let him taste his fill of her. When his lips travelled to her jaw and neck she couldn’t help but giggle.

“Did you get much sleep?” she asked in a pleased and purring voice.

“A few hours,” he mumbled against her skin.

“You should sleep more.”

“Mhm…”

“Toooom…”

“Hmmm?”

“I’m in no mood for that again.”

He sighed. “Went too hard last time, did I?”

“A bit.”

“Don’t worry,” he said with a tilted smile. “I won’t try to convince you to leave with me again.”

And as his kisses travelled lower she felt a little disappointed that he had given up on trying to persuade her, although grateful as well in a strange twist of heart. It made her all the more determined not to tell him that she had already begun to change her mind, to plot her own escape with him.

He pulled the duvet back from her chest then eased her gown away, leaving her skin open to the morning air. She shivered for a moment until Tom lowered his head and covered her with more kisses. His right hand curled around her waist and he covered her body with his, pulling the duvet above both of them. With gentle pressure, his lips began to move. He nipped at the flesh of her breast with a smile, then circled and circled around until his lips landed on her nipple. He affixed his lips to it and suckled. He moved gently with her every trembling sigh and purred when she threaded her fingers through his messy hair. Her head fell back onto the pillow as his tongue began to play, lapping at the underside of her bud until it puckered, greedy to be back in the warmth of his mouth. Tom grinned and flicked it with the tip of his tongue a little more then closed his teeth around it, gently, just enough to hold it still while his lips covered more and more between them as if he wanted to swallow her whole.

“Tom,” she moaned, needy for his name in her mouth.

He smiled and raised himself from her, leaving her trembling and cold, and moved onto the other breast to give it some attention too. Her caressing of his head encouraged him and he suckled on her a bit harder, playing with her nipple like a pebble in his mouth. He pressed it with his tongue against the roof of his mouth and nursed on it, sucking the taste of her skin. His wet and noisy drool dripped down along the curves of her breast. And when she whined, pulling on his locks and arching her back into his mouth he went back to kissing down her chest, its soft undersides and top, moving to her warm neck for a while before going back down again. She was sighing heavily by then and groaning in that airy way she knew Tom understood as pleasure. It only encouraged him to tease her more and he moved from one side to the other with a smile.

“My darling,” she whispered, dizzy with the feeling of her whole body growing hot. “My Tom…”

And just as he was pulling on her nipple, bringing it as high as he could before letting it go from his mouth, a shrill sound cut the air around them, stopping him mid-motion in shock.

She sighed and turned to her nightstand. It was the alarm clock. She reached out and fumbled for a bit until she could turn it off then fell back to the bed and sighed. Tom crawled up and rolled onto his side, looking none too pleased at being interrupted. His lips were still soft and warm because of her.

“Do we have to?” he grumbled.

“It’s seven. We’ll be late for work...”

He sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Well, I’m hardly in a mood to leave while in this state too, you know.”

“Oh? A state of what exactly?” he grinned, his hand slipping around her middle. “Would you care to show me? Perhaps I can take care of it.”

“Bad Tom. You’re a bad, wicked boy.”

“If only you knew just how bad I can be,” he chuckled, covering her once again to kiss her.

She curled a hand around his shoulder and clung to him, revelling in being so completely covered by his body.

“You’re horrible,” she smiled into his mouth.

He only grinned more proudly.

The first day of freedom — in the sense of having the undershop all to himself — was spent with an activity that reminded Tom of his school years: experimentation. In the morning hours, with a clearer head and a warm cup of tea, he finished deciphering Oso’s notebook that he found the day before. A large part of it was mere references for brevity’s sake to books and ancient curses. Fortunately for Tom Oso was thorough in his citations, as any antiquary would be. By the time he could go on his lunch break, he had tracked down the most important tomes they stocked there and knew which others to look for.

He didn’t even notice it was lunchtime until his phone rang. That infernal trilling of the telephone never failed to startle him.

“Yes?” he answered, rubbing his forehead.

“Tom? I’m hungry…”

“Oh. What time is— Ah, yes, let’s go.”

The weather had cooled such that there was no outside seating at their favourite restaurant, so they sat inside squeezed side-by-side at a little table in the corner. Even with her warmth pressed into him, Tom ate distractedly, his mind still on those books. He was eager to go back of course and finish solving the mystery of the spell that bound the books to the building before anyone noticed Ambrogio was gone. He hadn’t even found where he’d placed Torchia yet. It wasn’t stored with all the others… Tom distantly feared he’d given it to Malfoy already. If so that was another hurdle he’d have to overcome, one that might make it all not worth it in the end.

But still, he took the time to kiss the corner of her mouth once they were back — just inside the shop, but openly; the scandal! — and brewed another cup of tea for them while she tried to control her blushing. She didn’t ask him where his thoughts went, but then, when he managed to pay attention she seemed a bit lost in her own thoughts as well. He did her the kindness, as she had done for him, not to pry.

After he was back downstairs he thought it might be prudent to build up some hints of Oso’s absence. He went to his room and preemptively Dissapparated several of his clothes, shoes, and a few of the books by his coffin. The coffin itself, he put up by the wall and took the pillows out of it, as if it was just another eccentric decoration.

He didn’t phone upstairs until the evening came.

“Yes?” she answered in a tired, dreamy voice.

“Hello, my sweet. Have you seen Ambrogio all day?”

“No? He should be down with you. He hardly ever comes up here.”

“Strange. I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

“Oh… Maybe he’s back to his night schedule?”

“Maybe.”

“But, since he’s not around…”

“Yes?”

“Do you… maybe want to go home early?”

She asked it in such a guilty and playful voice that Tom could not refuse.

He had enough of the papers at home to keep him busy but he knew he was approaching a breakthrough. It was time to direct his attention to Mr. Malfoy and his “secretary”…

Oso’s allegiance to Malfoy was not something Tom had ever anticipated. One solution seemed now to lead to another problem and while killing a vampire leading a double life among muggles was one thing, doing away with Burke’s best client was another.

Tom was amused, however, that Mr. Malfoy was stuck now with his “payment” to Oso tagging along uselessly… Poor boy.

Halfway through the tram ride home, he noticed she was holding his hand. It was the buildup of warmth that distracted him, that made him feel like something was wrong. He looked down at their hands, then up at her, her drawn face perked up by a mysterious smile.

“What?” he asked.

“I like that look you get when you’re so lost in thought… And that way your lips curl, like a cat up to no good.”

“Ah yes, I almost forgot. I’m your Tomcat, right?” He sighed and rolled his eyes, but kept his hand in hers.

VII

It took three days for the Baron to notice Ambrogio was gone. It came about from a series of telephone calls Tom was only marginally involved with. First, Donatien called the upstairs shop, inquiring about Signor Oso. Tom had to hear about “that pretty French boy” again when she called him asking if Ambrogio was available.

“I can call Frenchie myself and tell him,” said Tom. “What’s his number?”

“No, I promised I would get back to him. So, is Ambrogio there?”

Tom frowned at her eagerness to talk to that boy again. “No,” he said firmly. “He’s missed work today as well.”

“Strange… You don’t suppose something’s happened?”

“It’s Rome, my dear. Anything is possible.”

“Well, alright then, I’ll let him know…”

“Do you think the Baron is informed?”

She paused. “I don’t think so. S-should I…?

“Unless you want me to…?

“Would you?”

“No,” laughed Tom. “Neither should you, in fact. Let Malfoy do it.”

“Tom, that’s a terrible idea! He’s a client.”

“So what? Oso’s being a lout, missing days of work, leaving us to deal with things… Let the old men figure it out between themselves.”

“You have a horrible work ethic.”

She still liked his idea enough to follow through because sure enough within the hour the Baron rang the shop, sounding calm but angry in his typical way. Tom eavesdropped on the conversation by tactfully picking up the phone in his office and listening in.

“I don’t know, sir. Tom hasn’t seen him either.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, we thought he spoke to you —”

“Never mind,” the old man growled. “Come to my office tomorrow at ten o’clock.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

And that, Tom knew, was when his plan could finally be set in motion.

VIII

“Oh my goodness, Tom, he called me in. What am I going to do?! He’ll sack me…”

“No he won’t,” smiled Tom, leaning casually against the desk while she paced up and down. She’d called him upstairs in a frantic summons right after the Baron hung up.

“He’s so mad about Ambrogio…”

“Exactly. And now he’s forced to rely on us.”

“What if Ambrogio turns up again though?”

“He won’t,” said Tom a little too quickly. “And even if he does, he’s already fallen out of favour.”

She kept on fretting, her little shoes clipping on the wooden floorboards as steady as clockwork. Tom pushed himself to his feet and walked up behind her, embracing her to keep her still. Immediately, her head leaned back and rested on his shoulder.

“Everything will be alright,” he whispered. “The Baron will depend on you more than ever, and then you can ask for all the things you’ve never dared to ask before. And he shall give them to you. Because he’ll have no choice.”

“He can just hire someone else…”

“Not in time for the next auction.”

“He has you, though.”

“I will not be a more appealing option to him,” Tom grinned. “Trust me.”

Whether she did or not, she turned to face him and wrapped her arms around him, hiding herself in his chest. Tom embraced her, feeling more sorry than ever that he’d have to leave her behind.

#Tom Riddle #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle x OC #Tom Riddle fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;englishclient

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captainsimagines · 7 months ago

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meet me in the afterglow || Halsin BG3 || Part Two

Summary: She aided everyone, himself included, and he hated how useless he felt. But if he were to simply open his eyes, he would see that she too was losing her mind.

Pairing(s): Halsin x Durge Drow Tav

Trope(s): Slow Burn; Fantasy; Established Canon Scenes; Male Love Interest POV

Based on the Song(s): Afterglow by Taylor Swift

Total Word Count: 30,000 +

If you would rather read on AO3, here is the link

This is a single one-shot, split into 2 parts. This is Part Two.

Warnings: This story deals with heavy sexual situations, strong language, canon-typical violence, self-harm, fantasy elements, emotional backstories, past memories of necrophilia, the "Dark Urge", "resist dark urge" storylines, past rape/non-con, attempted sexual assault, and minor character death. You are responsible for your own media consumption. This work is strictly 18+ only. This is purely fanfiction.

---

“Do you regret not claiming that power for yourself?” Tav asked Astarion, swinging her leg off the side of Astarion’s bed. The elf lounged with his back against the headboard, a pensive look boring into her curious one.

Halsin lounged by the fire with Shadowheart by his side, whittling a figurine of Scratch she had asked him to make. She was also making use of his chisel set, but instead of a complicated first endeavor, she had opted for carving a simple heart.

He slowed his knife around the paws, half his attention on the conversation nearby. It didn’t feel like eavesdropping when Shadowheart so happily joined, pushing her hair behind her ears for better tuning.

“Oddly, no,” Astarion responded.

The fight with Cazador had gone as expected. Bloody, emotional, traumatizing. They nearly lost Astarion to the ritual and Minthara in battle. Tav had misty-stepped to Astarion’s aid and earned a couple of bat bites along the way, while Halsin and Gale worked to keep Cazador obstructed. Minthara had fallen first, failing to dodge a slash from one of the ghouls. He had believed Tav would scream for her, but she was occupied with guarding Astarion. What startled him—and Gale, funnily enough—was that the scream came from Halsin himself. He yelled as she went down, even abandoned his crowd of ghouls to heal her. To say she was surprised would be an understatement, and neither spoke of it since.

“How do you feel?” Tav asked.

There was a twinge of sadness in the soft hum Astarion let loose. “Numb, mostly.”

Tav nodded. “I’d do anything to feel numb.”

“You will reclaim yourself soon. You will break your chains. I did, and I can scarcely believe it.”

“I’m so proud of you, Astarion.”

The elf clicked his tongue. “Thank you, I guess.”

They shared a laugh, and he and Shadowheart shared a look.

“Don’t you dare take Gortash’s deal.”

Tav pursed her lips, though they threatened to pull upward. Astarion tilted his head in response to her upcoming sarcasm.

“My cunt was never on the table.”

“I sure hope not. Bloody table was never a comfortable position. Not for me, at least.”

Shadowheart nudged his bicep, lifting her crooked heart at eye-level. She wore a proud grin, and Halsin rewarded her with one of his own.

“How long do you think we can put off killing Orin?”

Tav’s question was itching at his insides as well. It had been a week since they spoke to Gortash and since Wyll broke his pact with Mizora. It had been almost a month since Orin deceived them in Rivington. They had all taken Gortash’s warning seriously, but Orin had yet to strike. Karlach would keep an extra close watch as Yenna traveled a few blocks down to buy ingredients for her signature soups, and Lae’zel had begun volunteering for more night shifts. And as much as it tired him, Gale had cast arcane locks every night once everyone retired to bed, holding the spells well into the morning hours.

Soon Gortash would come asking for an update, and soon Orin would strike.

“Darling, I’m leaning more towards killing Gortash first.”

“Decisions, decisions,” Tav sang, as if their words weren’t inked with treason.

“What does our Emperor say about it? Gods know it will only speak to you.”

“Nothing. I think they’re keeping their opinion to themselves.”

---

He had been returning from buying some sweets with Wyll when he heard snippets of a very vibrant conversation between three enthusiastic sounding people. Well, two of them were happy-sounding and the third seemed to contradict everything they were saying. Peeking around the corner into the Elfsong’s kitchen, he found Tav, Yenna, and Minsc huddled close together near the boiling soups. Cher Rover eyed them suspiciously from the other end of the kitchen, but made no attempt at kicking them out. Halsin thought he quite enjoyed the company, even catching him sharing a pint with Jaheira the other day.

“Boo believes love should be spontaneous!” Minsc exclaimed, earning a hush from the small girl. He ducked his head comically and lowered his voice. “And Minsc believes the same.”

Tav rolled her eyes. She quickly dipped a finger into the soup nearest her and licked it clean before Chef Rover turned around.

“I say kiss him!” Yenna beamed, hopping in place. “He clearly likes you! You miss all the chances you don’t take!”

“But he hasn’t even tried kissing me again,” Tav lamented.

Minsc let out a dramatic pfft sound. “Halsin is an honorable elf—Not as honorable as Minsc, of course. Minsc beats him in everything.”

“That’s why she should just walk up to him and kiss him! Be romantic! Just because you’re the girl doesn’t mean you have to act all scared.”

Tav pouted. “I’m not scared!”

“Looks that way to me, missy.”

“Fine!” Tav declared, a smile playing at her lips. “Next time I see him, I’ll kiss him.”

“Ah, but what about the next time Minsc sees him?”

“What?”

Halsin neglected to hide once all three pairs of eyes met his own. He smiled sheepishly, running a nervous hand through his hair.

“Apologies.”

No one moved. Yenna snickered and poked Minsc’s side, the two simply waiting to see what happened next.

He and Tav shared a moment of simple acknowledgment. And when Yenna snickered even louder, Tav straightened herself and marched across the kitchen, closing that pesky distance between them to plant a proper kiss to his eager lips. He responded immediately, kissing her back as innocently as possible with a child present.

Immense and euphoric happiness swelled in his chest, and he found himself smiling through the kiss. Tav matched it easily.

“We’re matchmakers!” Yenna cheered, high-fiving the joyous giant ranger. "Mum would have loved to see this!"

They separated rather quickly, but he spotted no shame in Tav’s face. She wanted to kiss him, found him willing, and took her chance.

And if she was brave enough for spontaneity, then he would do everything in his power to prove he was a worthy partner.

"Yellow."

"What?"

"Yenna reminds me of the color yellow. Energy, audacity," Tav said, chuckling, "Childhood."

---

“You desire her.”

Halsin hadn’t been alone with Minthara the entire time they had traveled together. It was an unspoken agreement between them to simply acknowledge one another in conversation but to avoid private interaction. Though they came to a truce in the shadow lands, Halsin had never warmed up to her. He didn’t want to. The fight with Cazador had been a slip, a moment of panic in the grand scheme of things. She was their strongest fighter after all.

He watched as she placed a coin on the counter and took the mug of beer Alan offered her. She awaited his response, leaning on the wood with a single brow arched. Confident, regal, a cut-throat beauty.

He sipped his soup, humming gleefully at the taste. “I do not know whom you speak of.”

She scoffed, “Do not treat me like a fool, druid. I speak of Tav, and you do best to speak openly to me.”

“I will not be forced to share my emotions with you, Minthara.”

A genuine laugh. The shock in his face made her laugh again. She sat opposite of him, surprisingly relaxed for how crowded the pub was. “It is not force. I am here, I am asking, and you have not spoken to our other allies about this at all.”

No, but he assumed that Astarion knew. Tav told him everything. And if Astarion knew, then so did Gale. Gale found he enjoyed gossip with Wyll, and Wyll could keep nothing secret for long when it came to Karlach. Plus, Wyll was the one who discovered him devouring Tav on the roof, so.

And Minsc definitely shared what happened in the kitchen yesterday with Jaheira.

Honestly, Halsin felt like an idiot for even thinking he could keep his feelings secret at all.

“I too desired her for a while.”

A ball of jealousy weighed his full stomach down, and he bit into his bread to distract it. “I’m happy for you.”

Minthara squinted, a quirk in her lip. “But she turned me away. Do you know why?”

“Your personality?”

The quip came faster than he expected, before he could reel it back in and save himself a fist fight.

“So—” Minthara took a long gulp and when the mug lowered, her smile was brutal. Teeth and all. “The druid can bite.”

“That was humor, Minthara. When I bite, you’ll know,”

“Oh, I’ve seen you bite. When you are in wild shape, you are otherworldly.” Taking the time to scan his broad chest and shoulders, Minthara hummed her satisfaction. A blush rose to his cheeks. “You bite hardest when protecting my fellow kin. Understandable. She is of a different variety. Warm and sour, dangerous and cruel, kind and terrifying. You, druid, have the capability to handle it all.”

That might have been the sweetest thing he had ever heard her say. Perhaps the realest.

And if Minthara, of all people, was to be the only one who approached him on this topic, then she deserved to be treated seriously. This must have taken a lot of… heart. Courage she was full of, but empathy?

He took a moment to watch her watch others. How her brow furrowed when friends embraced, how she snickered when a drunk fell from their stool, and how her eyes brightened when lovers snuck away to dark corners. She was new to this world, new to this city. And it hit him that he had been picking at the strands of this city all along. On their daily walks, Halsin complained and spoke of change, but Minthara was experiencing everything anew. He had been destroying her experience and hadn’t given one damn. Tav indulged him, her thrill for judgment obvious at those moments. It was Astarion who would shut him up sometimes, claiming that though he hated these streets at night, they were colorful during the day. Unknown.

Minthara was approaching him with the intent of being friendly, and he was squandering it. So, pushing his fear of being understood down, he admitted, “But does she truly desire me?”

“I did not take you for a blind fool.”

“Honesty is required at this very moment, Minthara,” he said, pushing his empty bowl away. “I have experienced much in my life, but never the combination of love and lust. To be seen is unnerving, but to see someone in return is glorious.”

She nodded, though he didn’t think she was agreeing. She popped a grape in her mouth and took her time chewing. He waited, vulnerable, until finally her mask fell and she asked, “How does it feel?”

He pondered for a second, his tongue twisting as his heart hurried. “Deep. Like something is burrowing into my insides, to the very depths of my marrow, and filling me with this passion that I can almost taste. And once I get close to tasting its power, it’s… pulled away. Not maliciously, of course. It travels further, but I am more than happy to catch up with it. Because I know that once I grab it, if it’s reciprocated, I’ll feel sated.”

“I should kill you for stooping to such a level of desperation.”

Her loose threat pushed a surprised laugh from him. “You have a tender heart. Same as mine, I would say. You, however, are better at masking it.”

She grumbled, rolling her eyes. “You bleed desperation.”

“I think my biggest weakness is my transparency.”

“Good… You’re finally admitting it.”

They spoke about their past conquests, their errors when it came to people they thought they trusted, and the accomplishments they hadn’t quite considered positive until now. He discovered that her actions back in the goblin camp weren’t entirely her own, and that he had indeed endangered civilians by chasing after the past. And he hoped that she discovered her allies were not simply protecting her back because of honor, but because she had proven herself loyal.

Hours passed until Alan announced last call, and he found that he had revealed much more than he ever intended to the drow. Much more than he ever did with Tav, really. But because of it, he felt he could share more than just his heart with her. He could find it within himself to share his soul. “Powerful tricks you have, Minthara.”

She smirked, then drank the last sip of her third drink of the night. “I am a drow. We are a manipulative bunch.”

She stood from the booth, everything about her more loose. Comfortable in his presence. Safe, he dare speculate.

He leaned back in his seat with his eyes closed, content. And when she strode past him, she laid a gentle palm on his shoulder.

She squeezed once.

And was gone before he could turn his head.

---

“We could just fight this thing.”

Tav’s suggestion went ignored as the group argued amongst themselves near the doorway. Raphael’s personal incubus waved at them from afar, spreading their legs wider in anticipation. Halsin shuddered, but he wasn't blind to the humor of this situation.

“I brought enough healing potions to defeat Raphael, not his incubus, too!” Shadowheart hissed, clutching her satchel with an incredulous glare.

Tav rolled her eyes. “The pool here will heal us afterwards. Or would you like to fuck them, Shadowheart?”

Before Shadowheart could bite back, Gale whispered, “Are we sure they’re here out of their own free will?”

“They look excited enough.” Tav locked eyes with Harleep, curling her fingers enticingly. Harleep scoffed playfully, then pretended to swoon. Halsin merely blinked at her when she turned back, enough of a gesture that said he was insulted by that. Tav held in her laugh, and his nearly burst.

“Hells. We slaughtered the damn House of Healing, what’s to say we can’t slaughter the House of Hope?” Minthara suggested, leaning on her hip.

“Perhaps because we haven’t even found Hope yet,” Halsin answered.

Astarion huffed, “If you all want to fuck this thing, then do it. Count me out.” Then, shooting a quick hand in the sky, “I pull the trauma card!”

“Arsehole, beat me to it!” Shadowheart exclaimed.

“What cards do we have left?” Lae’zel asked, her confidence high considering no one would suggest she sleep with the incubus. Though, if Halsin truly had a say, the responsibility technically should have fallen to her. They were here to acquire the hammer necessary in freeing her prince, so. Technically.

“Gender, race, and experience cards,” Tav answered.

“Do we consider experience the same as age? If so, I am an old widower who has not yet gotten over the death of her beloved husband.”

“Fuck you, Jaheira,” Astarion snapped.

“If anyone should fuck the incubus,” Shadowheart added, “it should be Gale! Man has fucked a Goddess!”

“In the Weave, not the Hells!”

“What difference does that make?”

Gale shuffled on his feet, gripping his staff harder. With one look at Astarion, he had his answer. “I pull the race card! I’m human, I have a shorter lifespan! This memory will not simply dwindle!”

“You’re a wizard! Elminster is one-thousand years old!” Tav argued.

“Then ask him to fuck the devil!”

“Guys…” Wyll interrupted, the crease between his brows deepening. “Karlach has been awfully quiet during this—”

“Really?” Karlach yelled, pointing a fiery finger at her new friend-turned-enemy, “You’re the devil now! Get on your knees—”

They went back and forth for a while longer, no one suggesting that Tav crawl under the incubus herself. Surprisingly, his name was left out of it, too. He could have volunteered, but the thought made him sick. Turning his stomach at the thought of himself beneath a stranger, a stranger wearing a devil’s face. If only he had packed more healing potions, and Gale more scrolls—

“Minsc proclaims—‘Give me my heart’s desire!’”

They all turned at the same time, shocked to find Minsc bloodied and bruised, but wearing the widest smile. He had lifted the painting beside the bed, a bed now carrying the limp body of the naked incubus, and grabbed what looked to be Raphael’s diary.

“Boo has proven himself the greatest warrior amongst us! Now, let us steal this Hammer of Orphic!”

Astarion’s face twisted in disgust. “Did the hamster fuck the incubus?”

Minsc gasped, holding up both thumbs to cover Boo’s ears. “No! Does Minsc need to retell Boo’s heroic epics tonight? Weren’t you all listening?”

After they find Mol’s contract, free Hope, and defeat Raphael once and for all, Halsin finally lets himself breathe.

They could do this. They could really save everyone and survive this fight. To kill a devil of Raphael’s stature only cemented his belief that Gortash and Orin would be easy targets. And seeing Tav celebrate with ale and jokes that night cemented his growing love for her.

They shared a kiss before bed, and it’s Halsin that pulled away before things heated. He would court her right, court her like she deserved. He would be all her firsts if she’d let him.

Oak Father preserve him, he wanted her to be his last.

---

The wizard accompanied him to the river to bathe. Karlach and Shadowheart had claimed the two tubs first, but Gale could not wait to wash the hag’s blood off. The river was about a fifteen minute walk from the Elfsong, and Halsin had brought Astarion's shortsword just in case they took longer than expected and needed to search for dinner on their own.

There, Gale spoke of his home in Waterdeep and his early schooling, a topic that absolutely fascinated Halsin. How the wizard kept a garden at the peak of his tower and treated his books as if they were his own children, it made Halsin yearn for a visit. Baldur’s Gate was grimy and savage, while Waterdeep seemed to provide a healthy alternative. Or perhaps it was because the wizard was Halsin’s idea of home. They were all starting to become his idea of a peaceful home, and to say it didn’t frighten him would be a lie.

But what else did he need to prove? He had vanquished the shadow curse, relinquished his title as Archdruid of the Emerald Grove, and was currently hunting greater evils than those of his past. The bear within wanted to roam and see the world, meet new lovers and claim all of nature’s bounties.

But the man he was becoming, the man he had ignored for the past century, was screaming for his slightest shuffle through dirt to be heard. Maybe it was time to listen to it. To delve into a whole new world with people who had quickly become friends. He was a friend to all, to all of nature, but something was different now.

Tav had burrowed into his lively heart with her putrefied one, and that was the rare balance he had been searching for over the last few weeks, the very one she had urged him to seek and nourish.

“Ow! What in the Nine Hells was that?”

Up on shore, Halsin pulled his trousers up his waist but left his shirt untouched. The bear had ruined his last comfortable attire when he had fumbled mid-transition due to the flaming tiefling sneaking up on him. He watched as Gale lifted a hand out of the water, resistance evident the higher he pulled.

“Is this tar?” Gale observed, groaning as he tried taking a step out of the river.

His defenses immediately raised as he witnessed his wizard struggle harder, as the water rippled angrily around him. But before he could ready a spell, before the bear could unleash itself, Halsin felt the sharp tip of an arrow pierce the hard muscle of his shoulder. His magic fought against the necrotic poison, failed, and he tumbled to the sand. He could vaguely hear Gale gagging, drowning maybe.

Halsin curled his body, forcing his neck to turn to see if Gale was safe. But his vision was interrupted by red armor, armor that contorted and bent to his level. Then pale eyes bore in his closing ones.

“Don’t worry, pet. I won’t touch the wizard. Not yet, at least,” Orin laughed, her grin pulling so wide Halsin had to blink to free himself of the horrid image. “Father only wants you.”

---

Slipping out from the covers, Tav stretched her sore arms and found her slippers. Everyone was fast asleep, snoring away like they didn’t just kill Ethel and avenge Marina today. Tomorrow, they would check-in with another of the names on the Bhaal list and stock up on supplies. She hadn’t seen Rolan in a while either, and she wanted to catch up with Cal and Lia over tea.

As much as Tav wanted to lay down and never wake up again, she pushed herself to fight. To lead. To see the greater picture, the endgame. She could ignore the ache in her neck and the weight on her chest for a while longer. She had no doubts that everyone else was feeling the same way.

But she had got them all into this mess. It was her responsibility, her atonement.

Knocking softly on the nighttime window, she awaited the aggravated voice of the woman who provided them with meals at night. Withers hummed in the corner and traced a gray finger along a sentence he was reading, paying her no mind. She wrapped the thin robe over herself, and avoided breathing near him.

No one in the Elfsong responded.

The only water they had in their rooms was two days old and saved for morning baths, and Gale hadn’t returned yet to conjure up a glass. Nor was he here to cast arcane locks on their doors. She pushed the worry to the back of her mind. Gale was with Halsin, and it took an army to get through that wall of muscle. Honestly, she believed it would take an army to get through Gale as well. From the Grove to the Shadowlands to the Lower City, Gale had surprised her immensely.

Stepping over Grub and Scratch, she quietly descended to the main floor and looked around to make sure the coast was clear. There were three citizens tucked away in the corner, but Alan had closed out all tabs for the night. Patting the dagger attached to her hip, Tav scurried into the kitchen and lit a lamp. She was hoping to at least run into Lakrissa, but the tiefling was most likely lounging on the roof.

Alone.

Because Tav had stolen Alfira from her.

She gripped the water pump until her knuckles turned white, cursing underneath a shallow breath. She would be haunted by that forever, too much of a coward to admit to Lakrissa what she had done. When Zevlor had asked if his people had made it to Last Light, Tav hadn’t told him that she had stolen one’s fighting chance. She looked Rolan in the eyes and flirted with him, and he never knew just how violent she had proven herself to be. She never told Halsin the nasty thoughts she had when that snake reached for Arabella, and the false, bloody images she enjoyed those first few nights.

Steadying her breathing, she pushed herself away from the wall and cupped her hands beneath the faucet. Too distracted to feel someone creep up behind her.

She was slammed face-down onto the counter, just out of reach of the knives. Her own dagger pressed into the stone. The stranger pressed their palm to her cheek, smashing their weight down to the point an involuntary whimper broke through her trembling lips.

This was it. Gortash had found her and came to trade. She would be forced to remember and forced to play a part. And maybe her body would betray her and actually fall back into routine. She’d lose this new self.

“Just lie still, my heart.”

No.

“Halsin—” Tav tried to flip herself around, but Halsin forced his hand underneath her chin and pulled her to his chest. “What—”

“My heart,” he repeated, his lips caressing her jawline. The gravel of his voice when he said it… He had never said that name in lust. It was reserved for soft moments, for safe moments. Halsin understood that. And this Halsin… It didn’t sound right. “I apologize. But hearing Gortash merely speak of your cunt…”

Her stomach churned. Bile rose in her throat as one of his thick fingers came up to gently tug at her hair. Halsin smelled like pine and burning wood, and this person… They smelled like the city and rosemary. What every male in Baldur’s Gate smelled like to her.

“Get off of me,” she hissed, dragging her sharp nails across his forearms. She drew first blood, and that seemed to excite them even more. “Who are you?”

The person wearing Halsin’s face turned her neck to give her a bewildered expression, then dragged their finger over the fresh red lines on their arm. They licked the crimson, never breaking their gaze.

“It’s me, my heart. I thought you liked feeling overpowered,” they said, grinning. Even the damn smile was a perfect replica. Tav sobbed, ashamed by the flip of her stomach. “I thought you liked relinquishing your control. Learning from me. You wanted to mold yourself into someone better, someone even the Oak Father would accept, no?”

She halted her thrashing, eyes wide in realization.

Had the Halsin on the roof been… This person? No, not possible. She had smelled him, had felt safe, and he never rushed her. He made sure she was comfortable and that anything they did was with both their consent. This monster must have watched, or Orin had enlisted the services of some damned pigeons.

Where was the real Halsin? Gods, where was Gale?

Their lips connected to her neck as a large palm lowered to cup a breast. “You taste… remarkable.”

“Stop,” she tried, her voice coming out as a mere whisper. It was all her frightened body could conjure. Then, with a little more push in her lungs, “Astarion!”

The customers outside would hear her. They had to. She screamed again, but the door remained shut.

They slapped their hand over her mouth, then forced her down again. Her head pounded, the tadpole squirming. The tadpole.

“My hand is yours to bite into,” they breathed, their hips meeting her backside. Clenching her eyes shut, Tav sent every feeling of fright and disgust down the tadpole’s connection, even begging the Emperor to do something. “We must keep quiet so the others do not hear.”

"They are rousing. Keep screaming," the Emperor ordered, its concern a small reprieve from this torment.

“Astarion!” she tried again, earning another smack and the sound of a belt unbuckling. And through a broken sob, she tried even louder. “Astarion!”

“Call for him all you want, Chosen of Bhaal. This is what Father asks. This is your punishment.”

Her punishment. Perhaps she deserved it. All those years of committing worse atrocities on innocents. She deserved it.

And yet, this was her punishment for defying her Father, not for the violence she had enacted. His vengeance was misplaced. This was something being done to her out of pure spite.

“Fuck you,” she spit, groaning when they laid their heavy body over hers. This wasn’t Halsin, and that fact settled something sad inside of her. At least this punishment would be done by a stranger, as much of a stranger Orin was to her. It was the first time she thanked the Gods that the pale woman had destroyed her memory.

At least she was face-down and wouldn’t be forced to watch Halsin do this to her.

“I will, blood-kin. I will.”

“I will kill you, Orin. I will split your skull and devour your hopes, your desires, your damned insanity!”

Hearing Orin laugh in Halsin’s body nearly had her crumbling. Tav spread her arms out and gripped the sides of the counter, trying desperately to slow her breathing. Calm, Halsin would have instructed. Calm yourself, build your strength, and then fight.

“Father wanted me to shift into all of your friends. Take turns using you, stripping you of that gods-awful pride and sentiment you’ve built. To remind you that such connections are worthless! But I told him it would destroy you more if the one you loved was the one to ruin you.”

One second Halsin’s false hand crept up her thigh. Then all that heinous weight was blasted across the room.

“Gods, Tav! We’re here. I’m here.”

Gale.

His soft hands helped her up. As she rose, she saw Astarion and Minthara directly behind him—a single dagger and a longsword pointed at her attacker. She had never seen Minthara so livid, so disheveled. Her night clothes were barely hanging to her shoulders. But as she held the sword up, there was no tremble. Astarion held the same rage in his red eyes, a hint of madness creeping through. Remembrance. Twin empathy.

“I knew I should have started with that dreadful foreplay.” Finally, finally, Orin contorted and revealed her true self. Shedding Halsin's skin and giving Tav back her sanity.

“The shamed wizard, the slave spawn, and the drow traitor to the rescue!” Her infamous dagger swept through the air as she named her friends off. It lodged into the wall beside Tav’s head. “Your druid is so terribly boring. With his reputation, I thought it would be simple giving him the same punishment.”

Tav’s heart plummeted, and Gale audibly winced.

“But he couldn’t find the… excitement. So I left him with a promise that I would give that punishment to you.”

“Rabid bitch!” Astarion roared.

“My assumptions were wrong then? You do not share his bed?” Orin smiled, called her blade back, and twirled it. “Is it because his heart still pumps with juice? His mind is his own? Or is he the unwilling one? I say, dear blood-kin, you always were the ugliest of us.”

“Where did you take him?”

“Where do you think?”

Tav recalled the pungent smell, the sticky floors, the never-ending screaming. That wasn’t a place for Halsin. That wasn’t a place for anyone with a good-natured heart.

“Pick through your ravaged mind-matter and find home again. Slaughter your way there! Let the bear’s screams provide the most delightful music for your grand entrance!”

Before Minthara could strike true, Orin disappeared in a red blur. Instead she sliced across the wood, and watched as her weapon tumbled from her grip.

No one spoke. Tav faintly felt Astarion wrap his coat around her shoulders, the drops of water falling from Gale’s hair and to her slippers, and Minthara’s timid fingers as they came to cradle her cheek.

“She took Halsin,” Tav mumbled, swaying in Astarion’s grip. “She took him.”

“Let’s wake the others. Minsc and Jaheira probably know where this place is located—” Gale started to reason.

“Astarion, she took him,” Tav pleaded, grabbing the elf's collar. “There’s no sun in the temple, Astarion! There are no plants and no light! He’s all alone!”

“Tav, darling,” he tried, his back meeting the wall from all her involuntary shoving. “Gale, help me.”

Gale took a step, but it was Minthara who turned her so she was facing her, wrapped her arms around Tav’s waist, and held her firm. Tav’s nose nestled into Minthara’s neck, her arms pinned between their bodies.

“His—his staff is still here. His bow.”

Minthara kept silent, words eluding her.

On the way back up to their room, Tav noticed the three citizens still at their booth, bleeding out from their necks. Her companions said nothing else about Orin’s assault on Tav, and Gale told everyone how he was unable to stop the abduction. Tav simply sat with her knees tucked tightly, Jaheira at the foot of her bed.

“We’re going to find him, yeah? Look at me, soldier,” Karlach promised from across the room. Clive sat in her lap, his tiny arms wiggling between Karlach’s fingers. “We’re going to bring that hunk of an elf back, safe and sound. Do you hear me?”

Tav tried to move any muscle, but none were cooperating. All she could feel was Orin behind her, and all she could think about was Halsin begging Orin not to touch him.

“He can’t die alone,” she whispered, looking Jaheira in the eye. The older elf did well to remain steady, but Tav saw the slightest jump in her jaw. “He’s all alone.”

Jaheira nodded, then kept watch as Tav attempted and failed to get some rest.

---

Both the trust of Jaheira and Minsc were tested, but when Tav chose to bathe in Sarevok’s blood instead, something tipped itself in the grand scheme of things. Something that proved Tav had changed, had rejected Bhaal’s influence.

She was capable of good. Capable of chaos. Capable of sweetness and evil. Just like the rest of them.

Smearing Sarevok’s blood down her neck, between her breasts, and over her corset, Tav took a moment to regain her footing. No one spoke, though Wyll did place a gentle hand upon her red shoulder. Tav bristled slightly, but soon placed her own hand over his.

“You don’t have to watch this,” she warned, her voice monotone.

Minsc chuckled lightly, “A fact for you, Tav—you cannot do more carnage than Boo, here.”

She didn’t smile, didn’t react to his words. Instead, she went around and piled the bodies in the middle of the room and watched them sink into the pool. Slowly, the pool overflowed with darkening blood. Slowly, she submerged herself into its depths. Slowly, the others lowered themselves to one knee. Even Valeria quieted.

She emerged seeking vengeance.

An oath to herself, to the bloody grand scheme of all things.

---

The only stop Tav made before descending into the sewers was Sorcerous Sundries. There she spent most of her coin on scrolls for Gale, healing potions, and a new dagger for Astarion. Rolan gave her that and more, descending into the library for scrolls mainly used in battle, and a longsword that was promised to an ancient soldier seeking redemption.

Rolan said she could keep it if she liked the weight of it. So she passed Sarevok's blade to Minthara and adopted the ancient silver steel for herself.

Rolan trusted her with it.

It was the first time in Tav’s life that she kneeled before anyone and thanked them with tears in her eyes.

---

The fourth time Halsin heard the crack of Tav’s lungs was while he was strapped to Bhaal’s altar, praying to Silvanus for anyone to come and save him. How he missed Tav’s awkward smile and her genuine innocence to all things common. How he missed Gale’s blabbing and knowledge about topics Halsin had always wanted to explore. How he missed Lae’zel’s naiveness to all things Faerun and the way her high nose crinkled when annoyed. How he missed Karlach’s spontaneous attitude in the face of death and the way she practiced her dancing when the others made deals across the city. How he begged Silvanus to give him a fighting chance because he forgot to hug his vampire and tell him he was proud of his decision back at Cazador’s palace. How he needed to live because Wyll needed someone to tell him that his trying was starting to pay off and he did not need his father’s approval to show his face in the city again. How he wanted to learn from Jaheira, no matter their similarities, because she had explored much more of the Sword Coast than he ever did. And he needed to live because he forgot to tell Minthara that he respected her and that her words the other night had elated him to new heights.

He wanted to live because before he met his companions, Halsin didn’t think he had truly lived at all.

Tav lunged for Orin, slicing up her back and cracking her armor. Orin wailed, her pale eyes darting toward the altar. She lunged forward, close enough to knick Halsin’s forearm, before smacking against the temple floor with the full weight of her sister. Tav wrapped her hands around Orin’s throat, nails digging into the meat.

The temple gave a great shake, and everything happened too fast.

Orin’s bones broke and her muscles melted. Her face contorted and stretched. Her limbs grew and her nails punctured stone. Tav scrambled back, hitting Astarion’s knees. He too was frozen in shock, readying his daggers. One great strike and Astarion was sent into a crowd of Bhaalists, the spray of his stale blood igniting their most sadistic desires. Forgotten were Orin’s orders, and Shadowheart took the opportunity. Casting spirit guardians, she dashed for the small crowd and tore them down one by one, even drawing out the invisibles. Gale kept his distance, missiles flying directly into Orin’s back as she inched closer and closer to Tav.

One massive step, and Tav had to jump back. Again and again. But each step brought Orin closer to Minthara, whose sharpened blade met the tendons of one of her monstrous arms. Orin bellowed, swinging blindly, which allowed Tav to nail a strike to her neck. And when Bhaal instilled more energy into Orin’s slayer form, they repeated the tiresome process.

Though groggy, Halsin forced himself to sit up on the altar. To watch Tav land the long-awaited, final blow. The agony in her swing, the tortured crack of her throat, the absolute devastation on her face when Orin transformed back and crawled to her—melting and moaning, a single arm extended in a last attempt at landing another hit.

When Orin was nothing but a rancid puddle and her Bhaalists quieted, Halsin stepped onto the ground. Wobbly on his feet, he was held up by Gale’s strong arms and handed his staff for extra support. Minthara made to loot Orin’s remains when the temple shook below their feet and darkness enveloped them.

It only took a minute. One horrifying minute where Halsin and his companions stood paralyzed as they watched Tav reject Bhaal, and curse his name and line. One disturbing minute as they watched Bhaal steal back his blood in literal ribbons.

The ground quaked, as did the crimson walls. Bhaalists slowly retreated into the shadows, shame and fury keeping them from another fight. Bhaal’s likeness flared after each individual quake, as if trying to shake them from his domain.

Bhaal didn’t need Tav anymore—He would choose another. He didn’t need her companions to keep her alive anymore. He didn’t need anything anymore.

Falling to his knees, Halsin cradled her head in his large palm. It didn’t seem like Bhaal had broken her bones. Just... drained her of all fluids. His blood. Holding her delicately, he hovered a palm over her chest.

Nothing. No beat, no pump. Stale.

“Please,” Halsin whimpered, the force of his tears blinding him. “Defy your fate. Just one more time.”

Shadowheart tugged on Halsin’s bicep, begging him to carry Tav out instead. That they could work together underneath the sunlight, in the embrace of the Oak Father. But he could not pull himself away from her, could not stop pumping his hands into her fragile chest, could not stop sharing his air. Rational thought begged him to listen to Shadowheart, that the air of Bhaal’s temple would not nourish her orphaned lungs. Halsin could not stop trying, because the moment he stopped he understood it was the end.

The lilac of her face paled to an ashen white and when he lifted an eyelid to catch any form of light, he was cursed with the sight of bloodless and pale eyes. They retreated so far back into her skull that he caught a glimpse of the surrounding nerves. The silver fire had truly been extinguished. He yelled in frustration—in untamed misery.

The temple shook violently, sending Astarion to his knees. He cursed, dodging falling rock and the crumbling altar. Halsin continued to pump her chest, his healing power slowly seeping through her skin.

Not fast enough. All failing.

Gale fumbled inside his robes and pulled out a scroll, determination evident through his panic. Halsin knew a scroll of revivify would be of no use. Gale persisted, cursing as he ripped a corner, and read it quickly. The temple shook again.

And through his worry, Gale lifted his chin and faced Bhaal’s likeness. Brow lowered and dark eyes fully unmasked, he said in a whisper like pure death, “You forget yourself, Bhaal. Tav is not the only Chosen standing before you.”

Casting globe of invulnerability, Halsin and Shadowheart were now free to work. Surprising not only Halsin but the pale elf beside him, Bhaal grew silent. Frozen. Strangely cooperative for Mystra’s shamed Chosen.

And through Halsin’s rapid breathing, he heard the unmistakable sigh of Withers.

---

It was Astarion who talked him off the ledge. A figurative one, thankfully. After Tav was revived, she was so damn happy and grateful that he… Distanced himself for a few hours. Orin had only psychologically tortured him, but not even to the extent he believed she would indulge in. It was like he was an afterthought, and he found himself wishing he wasn’t. If Halsin wasn’t the one receiving punishments, it meant Tav was. It meant another poor soul was under Orin’s knife.

And in those rare moments of solace, when the smell of blood and shit clogged his nostrils so badly all other senses failed to work, he realized just how stupidly righteous he was. All this time he had mentored others on why self-care and self-love were the most important factors in one’s daily routine, and he had never participated in either practice. Halsin was huge on taking care of the body, getting the right amount of meditation, and nurturing one’s magic like a newly sprouted seedling. But where was the self-care that involved speaking well of himself, of sometimes selfishly taking a day off to do absolutely nothing? Where was the self-love that translated to being kind to himself, of acknowledging that he can’t win every battle?

“A second chance means it’s all out in the open now, darling. Do not leave anything unspoken.”

Tav was given a new lease on life, and he needed to realize he was, too. His inner turmoils needed to be dealt with, but never at the expense of his peace. His positivity needed to be channeled through multiple platforms, not just through pep-talks and health-related issues. His love, though bountiful, had taken root in one person, and after three hundred and fifty years he would finally follow the invisible string that had been glowing gold since fighting his way out of that goblin camp.

Being righteous had its perks, but he learned that abusing all of them at once would only bring about a harsh end. If one wanted to be a tragic hero so badly, then the Gods would take pleasure weaving that fate.

He decided that tragedy would have no place in his world, nor would it for Tav.

“Tell me she did not hurt you,” he said, his heart jumping as he received a surprised gasp.

He felt her lingering not far, her scent one that would take millennia to forget and would be discovered carved into his spine-bones.

Their companions had cleared out an hour ago and were no doubt adding to the ruckus downstairs. Shadowheart’s parents had taken Yenna and the animals on a walk around the park. It was only Halsin in their rooms, lounging on his bed pretending to read the book Gale had let him borrow. Tav leaned against the wooden pillar as if waiting to be called into the gigantic space. Her lean frame was concealed under a heavy knitted sweater.

Her mouth slightly parted. “Me? Tell me if she hurt you. Please.”

“She did not touch me, my heart.”

She walked to him slowly, pausing mid-way when he put the book down.

“If I had never come up with that stupid tadpoling plan, if I had never stolen that godsdamned crown, if I would have just told you to stay at the Grove all those months ago—”

“You would be dead.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“If Orin hadn’t experimented on you and instead chose to kill you, we would all be dead. If you had never stolen that crown, Gale would have never gained the independence he so desperately needed from Mystra, and chosen to better himself for himself. If you had never had the idea for the tadpoles, Astarion would still be a slave with no way out. You wouldn’t have defeated Orin or gained your own freedom—been born again. And if I had listened to you and stayed at the Grove, I would still be wallowing in self-pity and estranged from the outside world.”

“I have caused so much travesty—” she began, tears pricking her waterline. Halsin would not stand for that.

“You were Hells sent, but by the Gods have you proven to be the most beautiful fallen devil.”

A single tear. That was all she let fall before wiping her cheek and lifting her chin. He stood and closed the distance, cupping her face and tracing his thumb over her scar.

“Listen to me, you annoying brat of a drow. You were liberated for a reason,” he said, his throat clenching on itself. “You were given a second chance for a reason. It is not up to you to decide whether you deserve it or not. You do, and only soulless creatures will argue it.”

She copied his movements and smoothed over his own scars, her soft-hearted gaze just as powerful as her perfected vicious one.

“For everything I’ve done… How is it possible for my prize to be you?”

“How is it possible that for all my years of unchanged routine, I want to discard everything I know to learn my first steps with you?”

“Please don’t discard everything,” Tav pleaded through a chuckle, “because if I must learn how to be good again, then I’ll need you by my side.”

“My heart, my love,” he declared, his thumb now hovering over her plump bottom lip. “Give yourself more credit.”

Tav catapulted into his arms, claiming his lips with her own in a kiss so anguished and starved he had nothing to compare it to. Every kiss before was now rendered a dull touch, and Tav was all he would ever know. Grateful as he was for the new reality, Halsin immediately responded to her eagerness, matching it with such force they threw each other into the walls. He had spent so long ignoring the undeniable urge to devour her wholly, to make a feast of her sweat and moans.

Tav pushed forward, knocking him into Wyll’s bedpost. It dug into his spine, but he countered quickly. He dove even deeper, their teeth clanging momentarily as he pushed her into Jaheira’s alchemy set. It toppled to the ground, nothing spilled, but blocking their clumsy path all the same. He was trying to guide them back to her bed since his was currently covered with books, but it seemed like their legs weren’t cooperating with their decision. Tav didn’t seem to mind. She kissed him with a hunger that rivaled Gale’s orb, or Astarion’s bloodthirst. This was a kiss equivalent to a last one—like she was trying to make it count.

He wanted to voice it: They were going to survive. Their allies were going to survive. They would live happily after this. Free of the dark urge, free of titles, free of responsibilities that weren’t their own. He would be by her side for however long she would have him. And Gods, did he hope that was forever.

They toppled to the center of the room, the ever-blazing fire warming their already searing bodies. They detached for the sole reason of removing their upper layers, baring their skin and basking in the nearby orange glow.

Pulling her close, Halsin savored the feeling of her breasts pressed against his burly chest. Her soft skin like velvet, it was everything Halsin imagined. Snaking his hands down her back, he made sure to leave a delicate path along her spine. She shivered as the pads of his fingers kissed each vertebrae, her nipples hardening against his skin. Tav attempted to do the same, but eager in her pursuit, she skipped his entire spine and went straight for his ass, cupping it so she could pull their hips together. There, she proved his readiness.

He groaned softly, caressing her curves in return. “I will spend hours kissing every inch of your skin—”

“Halsin,” Tav rasped, pulling away with an expression that looked almost pained, “It’s getting late and the others will be returning soon. You can cash those hours another day, I promise. I want you to absolutely ravish me right now.”

“Fuck,” he breathed, gripping her hair and pulling her back in. She chuckled through the kiss, his spiced tea still lingering in her breath. He removed his trousers and hers, flicking her sandals over the railing and across the room. Laying her down, he could finally witness her beauty uncovered. Three parallel scars faded directly below her left breast, another just above her hip bone. A handful of stretch marks encircled her waist, the lilac skin pulled to its extent, probably during her younger years. And there were freckles dusted along her inner thighs, each a tantalizing path to her dripping center. He carefully pulled her thighs up and apart, spreading her open to take her in.

She wiggled under his gaze, the rush of untainted and newly reclaimed blood staining her cheeks. A spectacular delight to know she belonged to herself now and was willingly allowing him to share in her discovery.

“Do you not like me looking at you here?” he asked, running his fingertips close to where she pulsed. She swallowed hard and tried to shut her legs.

“Even I haven’t seen myself down there, you annoying oaf of a druid.”

“Then it is settled.” His voice lowered to a dangerous level, inciting a spark of heat through his own stomach. “The next time I fuck you, it shall be with your back against my chest, my cock between your legs, and a mirror in front of us. Then you’ll gaze upon yourself and your argument will be shot to the Hells.”

Her eyes widened, an almost innocent look that had his cock jumping.

“Go get it now.”

An uncontrollable moan sprouted from his lungs, but he did as he was told. A total of ten seconds he was away as he hauled the mirror to the center of the room, but it was long enough for Tav to take matters into her own hands. He returned to find her fingers deep inside her cunt, another twisting the hardened peak of her nipple.

“Give it to me,” he ordered, lowering to her level again. She gasped, moving to kneel before him. Taking her hand, he made sure to lock their eyes before taking two wet fingers into his mouth. She tasted earthly, original, delectable. The same taste that formed on his own tongue when he pleasured himself, when that spark of energy grew at the base of his spine and his chest rose with a battered scream. He sucked softly, savoring every drop, and took himself in his hand.

Tav followed his movement, her yearning evident as it practically shot from her essence into his own. Warming his insides, sating his darkest wants.

“You are no stranger to self-pleasure, yes?”

Tav shook her head. “I indulged.”

Guiding her hand back to herself, he continued stroking. He was fortunate enough to have an impressive length as well as girth, and something he would do for any and all lovers was prepare them. There was no Hell in this realm where he would hurt them to satisfy his needs quicker.

“Show me,” he pleaded, jutting his chin. “Show me, and I’ll show you.”

Tav circled her clit slowly, switching from watching his face to watching his hand. “Tell me, druid. Did you ever fuck yourself while thinking of me?”

The smile he offered was feral. “Have you no manners? What an invasive question.”

She leaned back and opened her thighs again, and plunged two fingers into herself. A gold glimmer scurried up his skin, then disappeared.

“I did it once,” she admitted, moaning softly as she went a little too deep. “It was the first time I ever thought about someone else while doing it, too. Do you want to know where and when I did it?”

Sliding his thumb over his slit, Halsin bit his tongue. He settled between her open legs, her knees knocking against the sides of his torso. So close that he could feel the heat of her arousal.

“Tell me.”

She took her fingers out and paid close attention to her clit. “That night you returned from the Shadowfell and officially joined our group. I asked you about lovers and you mentioned that you bed alone. I—ah—didn’t know what that feeling was so I explored it. I came four times that night, all because you were so kind and Karlach never shut up about climbing you like a tree and I was curious—”

She came with her back arched and a cry on her moist lips, but her fingers never paused. Neither did her confession.

“You made me so confused and angry all the time. Would you have fucked me all those months ago if I asked?”

Halsin expertly lifted her and flipped her around, cushioning his knees at the same time. They could see each other in the mirror now, exposed and glistening. His braids were loose and a sheen of sweat covered his biceps. He lowered Tav until her bottom rested on his thighs. She moved them slightly, her backside brushing against him tenderly. He hugged her firm, but loose enough that she could still move forward if needed.

“No,” he admitted, reaching up to cup one of her breasts. Before he let her expression sour however, he added, “You weren’t ready. I wasn’t ready. You said you did not want to be another notch on my belt, and I promise you that if you’ll have me, I will be your one and only. You will be my one and only. We see each other for who we are now, unburdened by inner turmoils. And I will continue seeing you long after we defeat the enemies that await us. So no, Tav. I would not have slept with you all those months ago.”

He lifted her carefully, and lined himself up. She watched the mirror intently.

“We see each other now,” he whispered into the crook of her neck. “The silver of this mirror meets the silver of your beauty, and I shall use the golden hues you see in me to light you in its presence.”

He slid into her, holding her steady with each new inch, muttering words of encouragement as she struggled.

“Halsin,” she whimpered, raising her arms to use his hair as a grip. She could pull with all her strength and Halsin would bask in the pain. “By the gods, this can’t be real.”

Halsin chuckled, and finally all of him was seated inside her. He felt himself pulse with the need to move. She circled her hips, testing the waters, watching the way she stretched around him in the mirror. The pornographic sight had his hips stuttering. Each bounce she attempted had him breathing harder, a savage burn encasing his heart and lungs. Yet he held back, holding her around the stomach now as she explored the new feeling.

“Hot,” she said, her smile genuine. “You feel hot against me. Inside me.”

“Tell me to burn hotter and I will.”

Adjusting her hips, she nodded at him in the mirror.

A single thrust and his skin pricked deliciously, the guttural groan Tav gave because of it prompting him to thrust again. Together they moved and watched themselves in the mirror, gaining as much speed as their knees allowed. Plunging deeper and deeper, Halsin reined in the bear and forced himself to stay present. Never had the need to wildshape been this serious before.

“You’re glowing,” Tav said, a sudden whine escaping her throat as he hit her from a particular angle. “I’m not about to have a bear’s cock inside me, am I? I can barely handle this one.”

His laugh melted into a moan. “No, my love. But we can explore that terrain another time.”

She scoffed playfully, “Damn druids.”

She yelped as he pushed her forward on her hands and knees, watching her face in case he overstepped. But all he saw was pure delight, excitement in being adored like this. It occurred to him that she had probably never been taken, and he doubted Gortash fucked her properly.

Wrapping her hair in his fist, he lifted her head so she could watch him pound into her. He fucked her hard and fast, the slap of their skin reverberating through their quiet rooms. Her mouth dropped open as he kept his brutal pace, her eyelids drooping in perfect rapture.

“Ah! Fuck, I—Oh, fuck Halsin. This is—this is so fucking good,” she whined, then sucked in a deep breath. “It’s like you're in my stomach.”

“You’re doing perfectly, my heart. The feeling—the feeling around me…”

He couldn't finish his sentence. Tav dropped to her elbows and screamed, pushing her hips backward to take him deeper. He watched as he fucked into her, her arousal coating the sides of his cock and dripping down the backs of her thighs. Watched how the enticing curve of her spine met the base of her bowed neck and the damp baby hairs curling there. And in the mirror he was also able to catch a glimpse of the drool she failed to catch, of her hand coming to wipe at her chin and then quickly catch her weight again.

“It feels so good I might cry,” she laughed, though the sound was overridden by more devious ones.

“Your beautiful sounds are surely the talk of the pub right now,” he teased, slowing his thrusts purposely. “Do you think they can hear you cry for me? Do you think they hear as I fuck into you? Gods, you’re soaked and begging, aren’t you?”

Tav pushed her hips again, her frustration growing.

“I pray they come and investigate. I can scarcely believe I’m not dreaming. And if they see me fucking you out in the open, how deep I am, my seed dripping out of you—”

The fifth time Halsin heard Tav scream was when she came so violently around his aching cock, tears of bliss on her blushed cheeks and a whole-body tremble seizing her, pulse after pulse threatening to milk him of everything he had. And she partially succeeded as he came inside her, a shout of his own syncing with hers.

Floating for twenty or so seconds, they enjoyed the feeling of their entanglement before Halsin started moving again. Tender, silky slides that were louder now as his seed spilled out of her, coating them equally. Tav’s breath quickened, the rug burn on her elbows striking him with a powerful burst of elation. Soon he’ll match them on her knees, he’ll gladly accept them in return, and he’ll ask Tav to make him scream until his throat was raw.

Though he fucked her deep, he kept his hands soft. Much to her surprise, he turned her onto her back and draped himself over her.

Tav giggled and pulled her trapped hair from under her shoulders. “Your chest hair is ticklish.”

His heart swelled. If such a visceral reaction was possible from such a simple sound, how would he feel when that laugh rattled her chest and burst eardrums? He wasn’t above dropping dead—may his flesh nourish the soil she walked on, may his bones carry the weight of her decisions, and may his soul grant her peace.

He stroked her right cheek with his index, loose strands of his hair kissing the left. “Apologies.”

“Don’t apologize. I know it’s wrong to say, but I am so glad you’re alive alongside me.”

“It’s not wrong to say,” he assured, sliding back into her with a short grunt. He bit her bottom lip as she gasped. “I’m just glad you’ve given me the chance to experience this alongside you.”

They shared their breaths as Halsin quickened his pace. Grabbing her left thigh and lifting it, he reached her most sensitive spot and kept at it. They were still in the middle of their highs, but his head was clearer. Sure, the idea of their companions walking in on them was intriguing, but Halsin found himself selfish now. Maybe another time they would discuss their fantasies—this was all for themselves. Practically shielding her, he felt the bear shimmer with…

Acceptance. Possessiveness. Satisfaction. Happiness.

The urge to roam that lay dormant for the past few months vanished entirely. He was Tav’s and Tav’s was his, and no longer would they be slaves to expectations or the commands of others. This moment they shared would bleed into eternity.

“I love you,” she said, her waterline silver. She repeated it, over and over, and he too admitted the same.

“I love you, too.”

They came together again, their hearts aligned, their breathing timed for risk of stopping altogether.

Later, when their companions returned and noticed the positive shift in their relationship, Halsin realized that though his love for Tav was unparalleled and rare, it also extended to the rowdy group of adventurers who had proven their loyalty ten times over. And if fate would allow it, he wanted to follow them long after their final battle proved victorious.

---

#baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #halsin x tav #halsin x durge #fanfiction #captainsimagines #drow tav #by moni #part two

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theoccoven · 9 days ago

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⇢ This Is Love [Part 2; Love & Gears Miniseries]

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Lest [Arcane] x Ace Azarolla [Implied], MelJayVik [Arcane] x Ace Azarolla | 𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: Angst(?), Suggestive, One-Shot | 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2,252 | 𝘼𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨: You can find Part 1 Here. Briefly edited. | 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Mentions of brothels, implied sex work, smoking/drug use, character spoilers I guess. No Spoilers for Season 1 or 2.

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: Viktor feels guilty and confesses to Mel and Jayce what happened, they go out to find him. Ace is enjoying life with one of his very close friends Lest. Has he moved on?

𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨: Song for this is 'This is Love' by Air Traffic Controller!

It had been months since Ace left Piltover.

They seemed to pass by in a blur for Viktor.

He was stunned that day. He couldn’t get out of his head even as they started going to their trip he didn’t speak. His mind was racing and he was just trying to collect himself so he could at least enjoy his time with his partners. The other two instantly realized that something was wrong with Viktor, that something was on his mind and that they had to try and prod it out of him. Gently, of course. Jayce and Mel looked at each other concerned and, as gentle as possible, asked him if he was okay.

“He’s leaving. …He left.” He said straightforwardly almost all emotion devoid from his answer and Jayce nor Mel seemed to understand what he meant. They were surprised with his bluntness but didn’t let that push them away, knowing their partner well enough and gently pushed a little more.

“Who, love?” Mel asked, going to hold Vik’s hand when his gaze went from stoic to distraught. As he was being forced to rethink something he was trying to push away.

“Ace.” Jayce looked surprised at the answer while Mel’s eyebrows raised in confusion.

“What…he’s leaving?” Jayce tried to wrap his head around what Viktor could mean. “Did we do something to make him leave?” He asked, looking at Viktor with sad eyes also reaching for him. That’s when everything spilled out. He couldn’t hold back this was festering in his mind and chest and bottling it up was going to do no one any good. He could trust them after all they were the loves of his life and he could be open with them. So he told them everything that happened, from the confession to how he replied to feeling unsure of his own feelings. Jayce and Mel listened with no judgement, nodding and giving him the comfort and space to talk that he needed. It was quiet for a little until Jayce and Mel looked at each other once more and Mel nodded and Jayce spoke.

“We kind of…assumed you two liked each other. At least Ace made it a little easier but your subtle little hints kind of made us think…” he trailed off and Viktor looked at them with wide eyes unable to figure out what to say. They could tell his feelings better than himself and it made him feel a bit worse. Why couldn’t he see these supposed feelings? Why didn’t he see the hints that they apparently saw? This just caused more stir in his mind and he felt like he was going to explode.

It was Mel’s turn to speak.

“Me and Jayce actually talked about it when you were gone, I’m assuming talking to Ace. We realized we might be starting to share similar feelings…”

“It’s hard when Ace is the way he is.” Jayce laughed a little and Mel smiled reassuringly while Viktor tried to make sense of all of this. It felt the same way when Jayce and Mel started dating and then confessed to him how unpredictable and hard to process it was but then he had an inkling for the growing feelings he had for the brunette that was his partner.

“I…I need to process all this.” He mumbled softly, putting his head in his hands.

“Take your time, love. Let’s enjoy our trip and when we come back we can talk about it together. You aren’t alone and we won’t love you any less. And if Ace truly left we can go look for him too.” Viktor gave a lopsided smile and nodded, having calmed down a little bit with their assurance.

But it was hard to enjoy the trip when his mind kept drifting even if he was enjoying himself.

Ace was lounging in one of the many brothels in Zaun, the same one they worked at before going up to Piltover. He was lying back, counting some gold coins, while blowing purple smoke from a pipe and handing it over to his companion. He was adorned in a short skirt that was higher than his mid thigh, a bikini like top, tattered stockings and fishnet gloves. His neck and shoulders were littered with hickies and what appeared to be bite marks. “He actually paid extra to leave marks. I should have asked for more!” He whined a little kicking his feet in the air, smiling when he heard a laugh.

“Of course he would pay extra, anyone would to mark up that pretty skin of yours.~” Lest purred out, taking a drag of the pipe, blowing the smoke out before leaning over to kiss Ace’s cheek. “Was he from Piltover or one of ours?”

“He was a Pilitie.~” Their eyes sparkled with amusement, biting their bottom lip before continuing. “An Enforcer too.~ Have a feeling he’s coming back soon.~” He let out some giggles, Lest smiling at seeing him come back to who he was after witnessing him mope around for weeks. He had shut her out for a bit but she didn’t relent, they stuck together like glue and this wasn’t going to take her love away.

“Hm~ I’m glad to see you happy.” She hummed, pressing another kiss to his forehead this time and smiled. Her fingers traced gentle patterns along Ace bronzed skin before settling to play with their hair. “A friend of mine is coming over, she had some questions about where someone was. Said I might know them and that she’ll explain when she got here. Do you mind if we talk here?” After his leave to Piltover, Lest had a big loss of him. Missed having him around so now they tended to do things together. Call it separation anxiety but when you spend a good amount of time with someone and basically survive together it is hard to see that person go. She never asked too many questions about what happened the day Ace came back. All she knows is that it had to do with Viktor who she knew as Ace’s childhood friend.

“I don’t mind, as long as they don’t track mud into our room. I hope they don’t either and respect the mud rule.”

“I don’t think she will.” She laughed softly and an amused smile graced her painted lips. “And I’ll make sure she takes off her shoes. I’m not sure if she’s coming alone but we’ll see when she gets here.” Ace nodded happily at that, going back to lounging and counting his coins until one of the other workers walked in informing Lest that her friend had come along with two other people. Lest nodded and told the worker to let them in, twiddling with Ace’s fingers as he took another puff from the pipe from earlier.

“Lest, dear. I’m so glad you could talk to me on such short notice.” Ace froze at the familiar voice, calming, velvety and reassuring.

Mel?

No it couldn’t be.

Council members would never be caught dead in Zaun, especially at a brothel.

But sure enough it was her. Beautiful mocha skin hit by the light of the candle that lit their little humble room. She was gorgeous as ever, the gold markings on her face just elevating her looks. She almost seemed out of place, standing there looking beautiful and expensive while the rest of the room…not so much. When they made eye contact, though, they started to choke on the smoke he inhaled, Lest looked at him concerned and patted his back. “Be careful…are you okay?” She fussed over him while Ace waved her off as he tried to recollect himself.

With this the trio took a moment to look over Ace. He had changed quite a lot from when they last saw him. All three seemed to instantly zero in on the light bruises on his neck each feeling extremely conflicted and differing emotions. It then clicked in Viktor’s mind what Ace had said that day.

“and the gods forbid they or you find out what I do for work… I would definitely not be welcomed.”

He worked here. Ace worked at a brothel and he was too scared to tell him. He thought Viktor would shun him for it and the thought alone hurt him. The others slowly came to the same conclusion. They didn’t like it, they would pull him away from this the second they could.

Each of their eyes trailed down, looking over his figure each trying to look away but seeming unable to. They had gotten a bit skinnier but managed to stay curvy in the right places, hair freshly re-dyed blonde with no roots showing. Jayce’s ears turned bright red the lower he went looking away when he saw the tattoo that adorned his lower stomach, Mel’s eyes had trailed to his thighs, still somehow plush, begging to be squeezed and kissed. She bit her bottom lip and looked away quickly while Viktor’s eyes trailed everywhere. He couldn’t look away and there was a strange feeling festering in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t like how…exposed Ace was to everyone. Was that feeling jealousy? He wasn’t sure and he despised not knowing.

When Ace recovered and noticed the three sets of eyes on him he scoffed. “Have you never seen a man in a skirt before? Guess Piltover isn’t up with the fashion trends.” It sounded like a jab or rude remark as he looked annoyed and took another drag of the pipe. Lest smiled sheepishly and patted Ace’s thigh.

“Sorry about him, he’s a little…sassy at times.” She laughed into her hand when Ace looked at her incredulously.

“I am not sassy! …or petty-.”

“I never said anything about petty, that is all you.” She laughed more as the younger whined and lightly shook her. When they were over their shock Mel spoke up again.

“Ace…” Lest had calmed down and looked a little confused, her eyebrows coming together a little and looking between Ace, who looked almost panicked, and Mel.

“Do you know each other?” Before Mel could utter a world Ace let out a loud nervous laugh.

“Know each other? Lest, dear, you’re funny. Why would I know the councilwoman personally or even the golden boy? No, no. I guess they heard my name outside. You know how people talk when they’re drunk and just had a good fuck.” He laughed a little more, basically screaming at Lest with his eyes to not ask anymore questions. Mel looked almost disgusted at the implication that Ace’s name would travel along like that, travel because he was good at being promiscuous.

Sure she had her fair share of sleeping around before Jayce and Viktor and much more fun when they both came into her life but this…this just felt wrong to her. She looked at Lest and could tell she had questions but kept them to herself for what seemed like Ace’s sake. When their eyes connected she looked away and looked back at Ace who clapped a little with a bright smile not doing well to hide his nerves. “Perfect! Now.~ As much as I would like to stay and listen to you all talk business…~” He draped himself over Lest’s shoulders giving her big eyes, cutesy eyelash flutters and little quivering bottom lip. “I’m hungry though. Can I go eat while you guys talk?” He twirled a piece of her hair on his finger and she gave him a look.

They were talking later.

He groaned but nodded and she gave a small smile.

“Alright go ahead. Don’t forget to bring me something too.” She gently held his chin, giving him a peck on the lips before letting him go.

Viktor felt a blow to his stomach, Jayce felt like a kicked puppy and Mel was just annoyed.

“Yes ma’am.~ Remember no mud in our room.~” He playfully saluted and warned, slipping on a pair of heels, ones that made him look taller than needed and waved bye to her. He didn’t give even a glance at the trio, refusing to acknowledge them.

Maybe he was petty, poor Mel and Jayce did nothing to him, but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t letting more people take advantage of him or his kindness and love.

Lest smiled with a small chuckle as she watched him leave, fondness in her eyes. The others stood there looking around and realizing and connecting more things together. This wasn’t how they wanted to find him. They’re happy he was safe but…not like this. The silence in the room was deafening and the cat woman was a little confused, worriedly looking at the company in the room. Mel, basically the lead of the group at this point, spoke up yet again. “Are you…” She couldn’t form the words so she just let it out. “Are you two dating?”

Lest’s eyebrows wrinkled up, finding the question rather odd. “It’s a complicated…situation. We don’t have labels but I guess you can say we’re akin to dating, yes.” She tilted her head looking them over. “Why do you want to know?” She grew a bit suspicious now and the three could tell.

“Well you see…” Mel didn’t know what to say or how to say it. How were they meant to tell her that Ace was who they were looking for when he clearly didn’t want Lest to know.

This situation got a lot more complicated and much more…upsetting.

⇢ @theoccoven - 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙙, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚, 𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙩, 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙯𝙚, 𝙚𝙩𝙘. [2025 - 2026]

⇢ Thank you for reading! Since you've made it this far please consider reblogging, commenting or leaving the Priestess an Offering! [Ko-fi]

⇢ 𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @faywithlove, @armysantiny, @kpopadminnie, @iridescentxstars [If you want to be added to the taglist send in an ask!]

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waltwhitmansbeard · 3 months ago

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Thanks a lot! In that case, may I request 31 ("I'm not that sick!") from the "hospital" prompts ([your blog name plus tumblr dot com]/post/712265432276582400) with Grog and Scanlan, please?

31. "I'm not that sick!" setting this pre-tlovm! tw: vomit

Back in Emon, and Scanlan has one thing on his mind. He's been singing a song under his breath all day, making it up as he goes, and he's running out of rhymes for "whorehouse." He's got his best leather pants on, his lute is tuned, the cube is trimmed. All he needs is—

"Grog?" He hasn't seen his giant friend since they all got back from clearing out a huge goblin camp about a day south of Emon earlier today. He and Grog share a room in this shitty inn they've found, but the big guy is nowhere to be found. He checks with Vax and Percy, but they haven't seen him, and when he knocks on the girls' door, Vex just yells at him to go away.

So he wanders down into the tavern area, which is dank and sticky but not in a fun way, but there's no towering half-giant to be seen. The barkeep knows nothing, the hot serving lady whose scrumptious butt is mercifully at Scanlan's eye level hasn't seen him, and Scanlan is at a loss.

"If that fucker left without me I'm gonna kill him." Scanlan stomps to the bathroom, needing to piss before heading off to the brothel on his own. When he opens the door, the first thing that hits him is the smell. He's been in some truly unspeakable lavatories in the worst dives in Tal'dorei, but this is something else. The second thing that he notices is the sound of violent, disgusting retching.

"What the—Grog?"

Jammed into a stall, his massive shoulders hunched in awkwardly, is Grog, whose entire spine ripples as he vomits up what Scanlan can only assume is a literal demon into the toilet. When he's done, he lets out a pitiful moan, his forehead crashing against the back wall.

"Geez, what did you eat?" Scanlan strums his lute, and his purple spectral hand appears, floating over to pat Grog's back.

"I dunno," Grog rumbles. "Couldn't read it." He reaches a hand back to point at something, and Scanlan follows the finger to see an empty bottle that rolled under a sink. He grabs it and reads Doctor Sigworth's Arcane Emetic and Efficacious Rat Poison. A crude drawing of a dead, vomiting rat is featured on the label.

"Buddy, you drank all of this?" Another sad groan. "If you weren't you, you'd be dead right now."

"I'm—ugh—I'm okay." With shaky arms, Grog pushes himself up to stand. "I think...I think it's all—" And another wave of bile spills out of him.

"That's it, I'm getting Pike." Scanlan turns to leave.

"No, no! What..." Grog pants. "...what about the lady house?"

"Yeah, I don't think even the cheapest courtesans in Emon are going to be into all of that." The purple hand gestures broadly at Grog. "We don't have the money to tip that much."

"What!" Grog turns to frown at him. "But I'm not that sick!"

Just then, Grog's stomach gives an ominous gurgle, and Scanlan has just the look of panic in Grog's eyes to warn him of what's coming. He leaps into the next open stall, barely dodging the spray of stomach acid that now covers the front wall of the bathroom.

"Okay," Grog gasps, bent over and wheezing. "Maybe I'm a little sick."

"You think?!" Scanlan shrieks. "You turn around! I'm getting Pike." Once Grog has obeyed, Scanlan storms out of the bathroom, grumbling under his breath. Now he's definitely not getting laid today.

#ask #Anonymous #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #my fic #vox machina #vox machina fic #tlovm #tlovm fic #scanlan shorthalt #grog strongjaw

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bigtalesalad · 1 month ago

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Hey guys I’ve ended my sadness over arcane season two, and what’s the best way to overcome sadness? With music :).

Therefore I wanted to create a playlist to my favorite pair - Jayce and Viktor. I felt inspired about creating it since I’ve read the fics from @bringthekaos , it’s really good I recommend it.

This playlist features my impressions of Jayce, his arc in s2 and his arc in @bringthekaos fics (specially the pulse of the machine). Everything tangle in 19 songs. Mostly first aid kit because no one writes about love and life like them, they are the absolute best.

Here I will feature a cute romantic naive Jayce (he behaves like a teen in love lol), jayce is full of certainty throughout the whole playlist. I will post the meaning of each song for me below, but I recommend listening to my playlist before reading so you are not influenced by my interpretation.

I will post Viktor playlist soon too. Hope you all like :)

Palomino - what I call title song, it comprises all the journey and learnings from the whole playlist. For Jayce it means what he learned both in the end of s2 and the fics, it’s about how he loves viktor and nothing is going to change that, no distance no time traveling no fight no augmentation can finish his love. It’s also about how he learned that loving is about simplicity, freedom mistakes and obviously fun.

my special angel - it’s the beginning of the journey for Jayce, when he’s about to ki- himself in s1, and viktor saves him (like a angel from paradise), so it’s very romantic and naive - and cute. Jayce kind of sees viktor as an angel

(You don’t know) how glad I am - It’s about how Jayce is glad to have met viktor, and how viktor kind of don’t notice this lol, his love for viktor have no walls (like the walls between Piltover and Zaun), also very romantic very cute.

Walking all day - it’s about Jayce trying to make viktor pay attention to his love and care and viktor can’t notice him. Very teenage drama lol

Your very first love - the title is self explanatory, viktor is Jayce first love, it’s a song about how sweet first love is. Very cute I know.

Running up that hill - Now we are getting darker haha, when viktor illness hits him, Jayce starts to struggle and hardships appear in their relationship. His love is so deep he would do anything to save viktor, this song is about that.

Meaner than the sea - it’s a song about how viktor is the one and only for Jayce, his other part. It fits well with the previous song because Jayce simply can’t loose viktor.

Once upon a time - time to cry hahahahahahah. It’s end s1 (possibly beginning of s2) jayce remembering the beginning of his relationship with viktor. Again it’s about how unique Viktor is to Jayce, because since Jayce is the golden boy averybody sees him as an opportunity to money, and viktor is the only one that truly sees him. And now Jayce is bitter and lost the only person that truly saw him.

She left the light on - it’s about viktor leaving Jayce, both in s2 and the fics. And how his presence is so strong so unique that when he’s not with Jayce he’s missed easily.

Fireworks - it’s about Jayce endeless cicle of breakup suffer. He knows viktor loves him he could see the fireworks in Viktor’s eyes when he’s around. But viktor is far away, and Jayce keeps seeing him around still , and can’t get over him leaving. Here we see a presence of some doubts ( Jayce’s doubts himself, blunts viktor loves him) opposing to the previous certainty he had of his convictions.

The end of the world - when you loose your other part, your other half it’s the end of the world. Simple as that enjoy this classic.

Wild horses II - it’s about how fragile life is, how everything change in seconds, how their relationship changed the moment when Jayce became councilor, although he wouldn’t admit it at that time. Viktor’s departure was expected, given Jayce actions, it was kind of his fault. But at that time Jayce wouldn’t admit it. Now he does

Yesterday- it’s a classic. A song about breakup and how love for Jayce was easier before the attack on the council, viktor left and it’s kind of Jayce fault and deep down he knows it. It’s a song that tells a story about a man that longs for the times that are over when their relationship was easier, perfect song to describe Jayce.

It’s a shame - in the game of love, when it’s real you keep coming back to the ones you love, even if reason tells you other wise. What you cannot gain you loose you know? And the only thing Jayce wants is his partner back, to spend one night with him

Laughing on the outside - about how Jayce misses viktor and wants to get back with him. He’s miserable without viktor, when they are together they have such a gay time ;)

Zuzu - Jayce suffering again, he wants viktor to give him one more chance basically. Teenage suffering hehehehe.

Turning onto you - a song about the interactions viktor and Jayce had after their fallout, Jayce enjoys every second he has with viktor even when the future is uncertain. Jayce is attractive to every single aspect that reminds him of viktor, he thinks of viktor often, turns onto him.

Everybody’s got to learn - when viktor wants to strip his humanity out to be perfect and became something not human, It’s up to Jayce to convince him how life’s is all about lessons to be learned from mistakes, viktor may feel alone but he’s not (he has Jayce) but even if Jayce moves mountains to ease viktor pain, some things in life you just have to face it alone. This song is also about Jayce own learned lessons and how he changed his view in life, he learned that living is getting up from mistakes and endless cicle. Jayce teaches (not literally) Viktor the beauty of the mistake, the beauty of humanity he a lesson he himself learned from his mistakes.

A better beginning- when Jayce recognizes his lessons it’s up to him to make a better beginning. To start better, it’s basically a conclusion from the previous song.

Bridge over troubled water - it’s a song that reeks how Jayce will always be in viktor side, in every situation in every timeline and every universe. We also have the simbolism of the bridge between Piltover and Zaun over the troubled water that signifies their troubled relationship. In conclusion they have a connection that suppass their troubles, a parallel of Piltover and Zaun.

Angel - the love song Jayce makes to viktor. There’s a lot of symbolism in this song. Here we have the word angel (what viktor symbolizes to Jayce in the begging of his journey) brought back, because that’s what viktor is. We have Jayce never ending love. We have Jayce stating that his insecurities are taking him aback from making the right thing and he stating to viktor that what viktor THINKS he lack are not real and are holding him back from living, he’s saying that when viktor tries troughs augmentations or magic to make viktor more clear to himself he’s killing the angel inside him, and that viktor should just stop and look again in the mirror to notice how free he is, even with emotions and humanity

#arcane viktor #arcane #league of legends #jayvik #arcane jayce #Spotify

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juurensha · 26 days ago

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Hello....Do you mind if I ask your top 5 (or top 10) favorite moments from any media that you love (can be books, anime/manga, tv series, movies, games, etc)? Thanks if you want to answer. Sorry if I ask too much....

This is a fun question, so I'll try my best!

In no particular order:

To no one's surprise most likely, the Touya reveal in ch 290 of BNHA, specifically this panel:

I'm just--look I love my characters who everyone think is dead but come back for revenge, and also, that line is just so raw. (Let's ignore the rest of canon)

2. Dresden Files Dead Beat by Jim Butcher, specifically that moment where Harry Dresden raises up a dinosaur from the dead and rides it into battle.

As many problems as I have with the series later on, god I love this moment.

3. Westworld S1E1 the last second of the episode, specifically when Dolores slaps the fly

I can't find a gifset of that exact moment, but I think this is right before that happens. I just love it because it made me scream and want to watch the rest of the show RIGHT THEN. I also love her beating up the Man in Black, but this is the moment that made me desperately want to watch the rest of the show.

4. Arcane s1e9, Jinx's speech at the end: "I thought maybe you could love me like you used to. Even though I’m… different. But you changed too. So… Here’s to the new us."

It's just such a devastating culmination of the entire season, with her sitting down in the Jinx chair and declaring it all over. (We're not going to talk about season 2). Also a contender is of course Silco's line of "Is there anything so undoing as a daughter," but that was a much quieter scene of course.

5. Fantasy High, first season, first episode, where Fabian punches Gorgug in the face, and Gorgug tries to sing his happy song but then decides to rage. The comedic timing on that was golden, and that was what convinced me to get into the rest of Dimension 20.

6. The moment in the Golden Enclaves by Naomi Novik where everyone sings an enclave into existence, it's just so hopeful and makes me tear up.

7. Night Watch by Terry Pratchett, where you realize where the lilac flowers came from, and you feel the same as Vimes when you realize it's all over now and history will have to repeat.

8. Tomoda-kun from Gekkan Shojo Nozaki-kun:

youtube

Just the best comedic moment I've seen from any anime, top tier :DDDD

9. Episode 10 of Madoka Magica, where the opening song flips to the end and you realize all along that this seemingly peppy song has actually been Homura's vow to Madoka, and it's SO SAD:

youtube

Sadly I can't find the exact video, but this was so sad.

10. Mass Effect 3 when you cure the genophage:

Mordin just gave up his life, so that's devastating, but at the same time, he just cured the plague that he created and completely prevented the krogan from reproducing, so the krogan now have a future again, and and and, it's just a culmination of so many hours of the game. Sigh, Bioware just doesn't make it like this anymore.

So I think that's it, hope you guys enjoyed!

#juurensha #asks

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neonacity · 2 years ago

Text

ARCANE : INIZIO | CH.7 | NCT DREAM X READER

Summary: When human deviants granted with the abilities of the legendary Arcana cards find themselves racing against devious forces, they are left to make a choice that might change the fate of the world itself: be the victims of the game, or become the masters of it themselves.

But will this war end with a crowned hero?

Or will it just create another mad villain?

*****

Note: This is the second book of Arcane. The happenings in this story is a prequel to the first installment which you can check in my Masterlist. Since the lore is highly dependent on the first book, I highly suggest you check it out first—otherwise, new readers might have a hard time understanding what is happening here. Expect lots of time jumps and flashbacks throughout the chapters.

Pairings: Dream 00’ Line + Mark x Reader

Trigger Warnings/Themes: romance, violence, torture, trauma, poly dynamics, suggestive themes, language, psychological, mystery, sci-fi. The concept of the tarot or Arcana cards will be loosely used throughout the series. Note that I am not a trained doctor so there may be some slips here and there about medical things. Again, this is a work of fiction and I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the boys to their real life counterparts. I also reserve the rights to all my work—I do not post anywhere else other than tumblr. Minors DNI. Please do not repost. I only publish my works in Tumblr.

Chapter Song: Before the Dawn | Evanescence

Previously > CH. 1 | CH.2 | CH.3 | CH.4 | CH.5 | CH.6

The soft, soulful notes of the grand piano teased the edges of your consciousness like the whisper of a lover.

You have no idea what time it is when you managed to open your eyes, but the first thing that registered to you as you stirred from your sleep were the beams of moonlight that pierced the darkness of your room. It took you a couple of quiet seconds to prop yourself up from your bed, eyes drifting towards the direction of the music as you tried to gather your bearings. Beside you, the glowing handle of the clock on your desk struck 2AM.

The cold feel of the floor seeped into your skin when you pulled the blankets off of you and finally swung your legs over the side of the bed. The hymn floating in between the cracks of your door was beautiful, but there was something about the way the notes danced around each other that made the deepest parts of your chest throb dully. For some reason, it stirred great sadness in you, so you didn't give it a second thought to pull on your night robe and step out into the hallway to find its source. You know exactly where to go… And in a way, who you will find at the end of it.

His back was on you the moment you stepped into the room. It was dark, with only the light of the moon peeking from the high window providing illumination to the almost empty space. It was enough for you, however, to make out his strong back contrasted by the graceful features of his profile. His lean fingers continued dancing across the piano keys and you decided to stop just on the edge of the hallway to watch him from a distance.

"Aren't you cold?"

You weren't surprised at all when he addressed you, his low voice braiding through the notes of the hymn he was playing. He still hasn't looked at you, but you still gave a slight shake of your head in answer.

"That's a very beautiful piece you are playing."

"Did I wake you up?"

"You did. And I think you did it intentionally, too."

The way the corner of his lips slightly curved into a small smile made you tighten your fingers around yourself. You wanted to reach out to him, touch his face, and pull him over to you all at once. You might as well have screamed your thoughts out loud because Mark finally turned to look at you, his gaze gentle and open.

"Come here?"

Your first instinct was to keep your ground, but the side of you that wanted him close got the best of you in a heartbeat. Stepping away from the shadows, you went straight to him, his arms already opening for you before you even settled beside him. You melted into his embrace, fingers treading through his hair as he pressed his nose against the crook of your neck. You frowned and closed your eyes at the contact, the heavy feeling that you didn't even know you've been lugging around for the past couple of days leaving your chest like smoke.

"Don't do that to me again. I thought you left me," you half whispered to keep your voice steady. You felt him sigh against your skin.

"I'm sorry… I needed some time alone."

"Do you hate me?"

Mark shook his head before letting you go just enough so he could see your face. You didn't even realize the tears brimming in your eyes until he reached out to catch them before they fell with his rough fingers.

"I could never hate you."

"But I…"

His smile fell a little as he gave a slight laugh.

"I admit the rejection hurt. I needed time to compose myself again. I wasn't really at my best when we talked so I had to distance myself a little."

"Mark, I'm sorry…"

The way his gaze probed your face now made a twisting tightness bloom in your chest again. It was the same way he had always looked at you, but now with a shade of honesty that he never had before.

"You shouldn't. You made me realize something after all."

Your throat felt tight, but you managed to speak.

"What?"

"That you love me. And that the way you also love the others doesn’t change that."

Your heart squeezed in your chest. You wanted to answer him, give him confirmation, but the way he looked at you told you that he didn’t need any of that assurance anymore. Instead, you leaned your cheek against the hand he raised to cup your face, eyes never leaving his. When he smiled at you again, you knew right then and there that the two of you will no longer be able to go back from all the pretending that provided you safety before. This was a man who had stopped himself from holding back because for the first time, he was finally standing in the same spot you’ve always been at.

For once, none of you are afraid.

“Are you back for real this time? I asked the others and they said you were gone for days. Nobody knew where you went.”

A look of recall quickly crossed his features at your question. He almost seemed a bit guilty, but you knew there was more to it than he was letting on. You could feel dread at the back of your throat, but waited for him to take his time to answer.

“I didn’t really leave because of our conversation. There was something I was trying to figure out.”

“What?”

“Who the traitor is behind all of this.”

You paused. Mark's gaze never wavered from yours and you could see the clear frustration from the set of his brows.

“Did you find out anything?”

“Not much. I could have done it easier with the help of my father but I—” he stopped, a hard look flashing in his eyes momentarily. “I know he is supportive of the Headmaster’s decision for all of us to go into hiding. He wouldn’t help me even if I beg him to. I was able to get access to some reports of the investigation that our family have been doing though. Whoever is coming after us must come from an advanced technology corporation. They—”

“It’s Cypher Institute, isn’t it?”

Mark froze in his seat, his gaze one of surprise before it morphed into confusion.

“How did you know that?”

“Jaemin and I snooped around in my father’s office while he was gone and someone called him about it. It was a coincidence. Was it the same Institute that you were able to confirm from your father’s side?”

The way Mark’s expression changed in just a matter of seconds slowly made an uncomfortable feeling bloom in your gut. It was what he said next, however, that really threw you off.

“My father is not aware about Cypher Institute.”

You frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“He had leads but none of the files I cross-checked had any mention of Cypher. And I looked at everything, I am sure of it. Whoever gave that information to your father is not from our family.”

The silence that wrapped the two of you was brief but heavy with meaning. There were so many questions that came to mind but it was Mark who managed to voice out the most pressing thing you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

“Do you know any other family that your father could be working with?”

You shook your head slightly.

“He does work with everyone. The Kim’s are one when he asked Mijeong to watch over me while I was in university, and I’m sure he also had agreements with the families of the other Masters. I’ve always thought that he shares a lot of his plans to your father though… Especially anything related to this threat. It was the Lee's who saved him from the latest ambush after all. It wouldn’t make sense for him to ask another family to look into things over your father…”

It took a while for Mark to finally say something as he processed that. Your throat felt dry, and you could almost feel your hand locked with his slowly grow cold.

“It would make sense. If he doesn’t fully trust my father.”

His words hung thick in the air. You didn’t know what to say, especially with him saying what you couldn’t put into words. There was something about Junho Lee that has always bothered you, but he is also Mark’s family and for that, you still provided the man a level of respect even from a distance. Still, you knew that one of your father’s reasons for trusting him stands on shaky ground—you just didn’t expect for the distrust to run this deep.

“Do you think… He can do that?”

Mark’s jaw tightened at the question. You could see the fight going inside of him so clearly that you almost felt bad for asking.

“He's a very ambitious man. I was still very young when I lost my mom, but I remember enough to know that he was never really the same after what happened. Still, he is the only other family that I have and…”

“And it is absolutely alright if you want to believe in him,” you gently interjected by giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Mark pursed his lips and he shifted his gaze away from you, his expression torn and pained.

Just like you, Mark’s life was greatly affected by what happened in the past. Fate dealt him bad cards, and for that you can’t really blame him for wanting to stand up for things he wants to believe in. You would do the same if you were in his place; choose to stand by your father before anything and anyone else.

It took a moment before he finally seemed to break from his thoughts. Gaze following him, he reached out for something in his pocket before finally offering his open palm to you. It was dark so it took you a moment to realize what you were looking at, but your lips were soon enough parting wordlessly as he moved to open the small blue velvet box he was holding carefully.

Lying nestled in black satin, catching the light of the moon, was a deep blue diamond ring framed with smaller clear gems on its sides. It looked ornate but well-loved, like a star that had fallen in the middle of a dark night. Your eyes widened as you stared at it, Mark’s silence in contrast to the sudden loud beating of your heart.

“What…”

“It’s my mother’s wedding ring. My father gave it to me when he told me about his plan of us getting married.”

“Mark… I…”

Your voice sounded so full of guilt, but he gently cut you off by pressing the box against your palm.

“Relax, I am not proposing to you,” he said in a tone that made you pause. “I told you that I understand where you stand now. I am not going to force you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.”

You swallowed, but let him continue.

“But we can’t deny how dangerous it is right now. There is a traitor in our family and it could be anyone, including my father. I won’t blame you if you can’t find it in you to trust us right now, but my family can give you protection, regardless of who is the person who betrayed us. Even if it was him, I think he will spare you if we make him believe that you’re engaged to me.”

“What makes you think he will make an exception for me, Mark? If it really was him, and he was willing to sell the rest of the Masters, then he can betray anyone.”

“No. Not you.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

The way you paused gave Mark the chance to really look at you, his eyes roaming your face. You were at a loss for words, and he used that as his window to continue with a gentle voice that made your chest hurt.

“My father can be ambitious and cruel, I admit that, but he knows how to honor love when he sees it. He was hit hard when he lost my mom, but I don’t think he is going to punish you and me for what happened. He will also gain nothing if he hurts you over us being engaged and making our bloodline stronger.”

“I hate to say this, but it’s the reality we’re living in right now,” he continued. “I can protect you if you choose to continue your life as a Master. It’s that or you move away and cut off all connections with us. Follow what your father has always wanted for you and live like a normal human.”

You slowly shook your head as the weight of his words fully sunk in. You’ve always known this… Everything Mark is saying right now have always been the choices given to you. Not once have you accepted them though, especially with your only other option being to exile yourself from the Family and never see any of them for the rest of your life again.

“So are you saying that we should… tell everyone that we will get married?”

Mark’s gaze dropped before he gave a slight nod.

“Yes. At least while we haven’t figured out who the real traitor is. If they see that we’re both onboard, I don’t think they’ll rush us to it. We can buy ourselves some time.”

You were quiet. Your eyes found the ring again, a testament to a different promise made years ago. After a moment, Mark reached over and closed the box before guiding your fingers to close around it.

“You don’t need to give me an answer right now, but I want you to keep it. Even if we won’t get married, you’re the only woman who I want to have it.”

Your thumb ran over the soft plush of the velvet cover. A few seconds passed before you felt him gently hold your chin to guide you to look at him again.

“I’ll do anything and everything just so we could get to the bottom of this. Whatever happens though, I want you to know…”

“That I will never ever betray you. My life is yours.”

Time seemed to have stopped, the same way your heart did. He looked at you with nothing but bare honesty laid out and you received it, unafraid this time. A cloud shifted outside, and the next moment, you two met in the middle, lips soft against each other. It was a simple kiss, but one that you knew was long overdue. When you pulled away, you whispered softly against him, only loud enough for him to hear.

“I know. I believe you.”

******* “Come in.”

You have barely raised your hand to knock when your father’s clear voice sounded from the inside of his office. The antic would have been amusing if this were any normal day, but instead you found yourself slightly hesitating before finally pushing the door open. He wasn’t looking at you when you stepped into his room, his gaze set instead on reviewing a stack of documents laid out across his table.

“Are you busy?”

It was a rhetorical question at this point, but still, the man’s lips twitched into a small smile as he finally looked at you from over the rim of his wired glasses. He looked unhurt, but the dark shadows under his eyes betrayed how his last couple of days have been.

“Even if I am, I will always have time for you, Princess.”

You didn’t want to immediately soften after that, but you couldn’t help the way your eyes shifted sideways as a reaction. Your father, of course, noticed, and chuckled as a response.

“So? Is there anything wrong?”

Your shoulders slumped a little before you answered. To be honest, you didn’t really plan for anything when you decided to see him today. All you know is that you’re glad to see him again after he had been in and out of the Academy for the past few days, especially since you haven’t really talked after your argument. The way his eyes sparkled behind his glasses now made you think that he already has an idea why you’re here, but the man kept his silence to give you the room to open it up yourself.

“I wanted to apologize… For some of the things I have said last time.”

“Apology accepted. I want to do the same, since I have realized why my decision warranted that kind of reaction.”

Immediately, it felt like a part of the heaviness in your chest lifted. You remained standing in your spot though, your gaze open as you searched his face.

“Did you change your mind? About me and Mark?”

A pause.

“No, my dear. My stand remains the same. And you?”

You didn’t hesitate to answer.

“No… I am still against it.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything else to counter you. Your father can be as headstrong as he is, but he also knows how to draw boundaries, at least temporarily. What you said next, however, is something he definitely did not expect.

“Mark and I talked though,” you added as you tried your best to work through the lump in your throat. Ever since that night with him, you’ve sat with your thoughts to consider every angle of the situation. You still don’t have a decision, but it would be unfair to lie to your father about what has happened since.

“We… still do not have an answer right now. But we are considering things.”

It was quite hard to gauge whether he was relieved about it or not, but he gave you a slight smile after his pause of silence.

“That’s enough for me. Thank you, darling. Now, do you want to sit? I know you came here to tell me more than just that. At least try to relax a little.”

You hesitated only for a little bit before finally giving in and settling on the chair across his desk. Now that you’re closer, you could better see the lines on his face, proof that the last few days haven’t been easy on him.

“I found out who was after us. I heard it from a call… While you were gone.”

“I know.”

You shot him a guilty look.

“Are you mad?”

The question made him laugh. “Honey, I would be even more surprised if you didn’t snoop around to find out things on your own. Let me guess, did Mark come with you?”

“No. Jaemin did.”

“Mm. As expected from Mr. Na. That young man's loyalty to you is fiercer than his strongest fear.”

“Why is Cypher after us, Papa?”

You didn't know if he was taken aback by your straightforwardness or not, but the moment you asked, a shadow of emotion you couldn’t quite understand flitted over his features. It was fast, but it was enough for you to understand that he knows something more than he is letting on. At first you thought he would avoid the question, but then the light in his eyes shifted again, almost as if he was looking inward to himself.

"It's human nature to crave power. Cypher, unfortunately, is one of those willing to meddle with it."

"Do you have any idea what it is that they want from us? Even with what they have, it is impossible for them to tap into the abilities of the Arcana. Manmade resources have no chance against us."

The pause from him was loaded. The man leaned on his desk now, shoulders slightly slouched as he took off his glasses and pressed the bridge of his nose. You almost wanted to reach out to him, but he seemed on the verge of breaking at the slightest touch. A flash of uninvited memory took over you, and it was then you realized that you've seen him like this before. Once, a long time ago when you were younger…

Back when your mother died.

"I wish I knew. It's hard to go against an enemy without understanding how they could possibly hurt you, but I am sure of one thing. They're dangerous. If there's something even more powerful than greed, it's hatred, and Cypher… has both towards us. Whatever happens, we can't let them get to us. To any of you."

His words slowly sank like dull blades into your skin. There was something lurking behind his statements, a confession hidden in plain sight. You hated how you're piecing things together slowly, how you're realizing that there is possibly more to this than just going against an enemy.

"What do you mean about them hating us?" You asked softly now, your eyes set on him. Your father's gaze hardened as he continued staring at a spot in front of him. His silence was enough of an answer that you need.

"You… know these people. You know why they are doing this," you continued slowly. Your words seemed to have struck something in him, a look of pain overtaking him for a solid second before he finally reached for your hand.

“When the time comes, you will understand.”

“No, I don’t think I will. Why won’t you tell me everything?! I can help. You don’t have to carry this on your own.”

“Darling, you don’t understand. They are not like anything we have faced before. I’m doing this to protect all of you.”

You were quiet as your mind ran a million different things at the same time. You could see the cracks in him, the dawning realization shaking your core in a silent, terrifying way. There are a lot of moments in your life when you don't agree with your father, but you love the man, and he has always been the epitome of someone you can rely on ever since you were young. It doesn't matter how big the problem is, he will always come swooping down to save the day. As you look at him now across from you, shadows and light bouncing off his tired face, you felt your heart break as you realized one thing. He is afraid just as you are. Unlike you though, there was an air of resignation in him, as if he already knew the fate waiting for him.

“Then why… does it feel like you are saying goodbye.”

The way that he looked at you made something in you break. You shook your head slowly, and he cupped your face with his hand to keep yourself from trembling.

“You will understand it soon. For now, all I wish is for you to trust me. I know it might be too much to ask, but I hope you can give me this.”

You were terrified. In that moment, you felt like a little girl again, afraid to lose the only family that you have.

“Only if you promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“You will not die.”

He paused for a bit before finally giving you a small smile.

“You have my word.”

You weren’t entirely convinced, but you took it, at least for now. Your father may not be perfect, but as much as he is flawed, he had always tried his best to never break his promises to you. You nodded now, your eyes falling to the piles of papers in his desk.

“What are we going to do now, Papa?”

His hand on your face lowered and your gaze landed on his ring as it caught light from the lamp on his desk. It was an ornate piece made with what looked like bronze, the simple band carved with intricate-looping patterns that are reminiscent of snowflakes. It was the only piece of jewelry that he had worn for as long as you could remember, on top of his wedding band that he never took off despite the death of your mother. For some reason, the ring looked different now as it shone against his skin. It looked regal in your father’s hand, yet at the same time... lonely.

When he spoke again, his voice was melancholy.

“When the time comes, you will know exactly what you have to do.”

******* “You know the view of the sunset looks best on the other side of the rooftop, right?”

Your head only slightly turned towards the sound of the voice that broke through your thoughts. Shrugging a little to yourself, you turned your gaze once more to the burning sky, eyes not really seeing the deepening colors there. You have no idea how long you’ve been sitting in the cold, but the freezing chill clinging to your skin gave you an idea of the hours you’ve lost track of.

“I know. I didn’t really come here for the view though.”

Soft footfalls started moving towards you in answer. The next thing you felt was the warmth of a cardigan going over your shoulders as your visitor dropped to the spot next to you.

“That makes one of us. I do like the view here. Can I join?”

You raised a brow but grabbed the edges of the jacket to wrap the material tighter around you. “You’re already here. Will you leave if I ask you to?”

“Nope~”

The way you could almost hear his smirk in his voice couldn’t stop you from smiling a little. You gave a light-hearted sigh before finally turning to look at him.

“Why are you here, Haechan? Shouldn’t you be resting in your dorm? You just finished training with the others, right?”

“When I can finally have some alone time with you? You do realize how hard it is for some of us to get your time, right? Either you’re sulking on your own or you’re being hogged by my cousins—”

He wasn’t able to finish what he wanted to say as you raised your hand and knocked your fist on top of his head. Haechan jokingly flinched and massaged the spot you just hit, a smirk on his face.

“Did you just come here to harass me?”

“Did I lie? All I’m saying noona is that I’m a Lee too. What does Mark and Jeno have that I don’t have?”

You looked at him dead-panned before giving an answer.

“Height.”

The way his face dropped made your lips twitch. It was taking you everything not to dissolve into laughter with how hard he scowled at you.

“Okay, Princess, listen here. Mark-hyung is literally a centimeter taller than me. Don’t be mean.”

That was the last that you could take. Unable to help it, you finally gave in, your laughter bursting as you curled in on yourself to keep yourself from snorting. You could almost feel his frown deepening without even looking at him, the awareness of it only making you wheeze harder.

"I do know what I can do that those two dorks can't though," you heard him say quietly after he let you have your moment. When you finally gathered yourself again—cheeks pink from the cold and the laughing fit—he was looking at you softly. The sunset was kissing his skin, making him look as if he was glowing. The corners of his lips lifted as he angled his face a little to the side to watch you.

"I'm the only one who can make you laugh like that."

The way your heart jumped made you immediately forget what you thought was funny just seconds ago. Your relationship with Haechan has always been different… Mark is loyal, Jeno is secretive, Renjun is subtle, and Jaemin is passionate. Haechan has always been straightforward with what he wants, but unlike the others, his intensity can sometimes be impulsive, like an open flame ready to spark into a larger fire at any moment. It was in his nature—The Magician, as the master of chaos, is the one force in the Arcana that constantly straddles logic and madness, next to The Fool itself. He is designed to want you in a different intensity from how others feel ever since the Arcana chose him as its Master.

It's because of this that you have always tried to hold back more when it comes to him. And so when he pushes, you pull back, not because you feel any less for him, but because the idea of you two meeting in the middle has always terrified you.

That, and you know that whatever feelings Haechan has for you at the moment might not be his own, but his Arcana craving for yours.

"You make me laugh just as hard as you can make me mad," you admitted finally, allowing your walls to break down just a little in front of him. Something flickered in his eyes though his smile remained.

"You always run away from me, noona. Why?"

"You already know the answer to that."

"What I know is that you like me just as much as you like the others."

"I do. But do you feel the same about me? Or is it your Arcana telling you that you want me?"

Your question made him stop. You watched as the smile slowly bled from his face, his well-kept mask slipping for a moment. Haechan is a good master of his own emotions, but this time you knew you hit a chord.

"I can do anything for you. Destroy worlds… and build new ones if you want me to,” he said, his voice serious.

"I know. But that is not answering my question."

"Then what—"

"Will you feel the same if I am not the IL Matto, Haechan? Will you still like me if I’m just a regular human?"

The way his eyes hardened a little at the very thought of you living a life as a normal mortal admittedly made your heart break a little. You've always known this, of course… but hearing his answer now in his silence did not make it easier. When it seemed like he didn't know what to say next, you took it upon yourself to take his hand gently. He immediately wove his fingers with yours, his hold tight that it felt like he was giving you his reply through it alone. This time, it was you who smiled at him to try and give him comfort.

“I know how much you like me, but I can’t accept those feelings if you’re not even sure yourself that they’re your own. It’s unfair for me to give you an answer and take your free will from you, Haechan... I can’t do that, at least while you still can’t answer that question.”

He looked so lost and in pain that for a moment, you could see the chubby-cheeked boy who had always ran after you when you were younger. It made you want to pull him in for comfort, but you settled on giving his hand a squeeze instead.

"Hey. Don’t feel bad about it, okay? It’s fine. I like having you around, just like this. If you want to do anything for me though, then just promise me one thing."

He still seemed torn, but he managed to give an answer anyway.

"What is it?"

"Never stop making me laugh. You're right. You’re the only one who can do it."

******* Kun kept his eyes steady on the flickering flame of the candlelight in front of him. The room was quiet, but there was a different tinge of melancholy that was lingering in the air as the Headmaster sifted quietly through the papers in front of him. The ticking sound of the grandfather's clock in the room was deafening to him, like a death call waiting for its final drop. It was a reprieve when the door finally creaked open, revealing Taeyong on the other side of it. Kun waited for him to join his side, giving the man the liberty to break the suffocating silence.

"We just finished the final round of trainings, Sir. We’re gathering all the data before giving them to you."

"How are the kids?"

"They have improved a lot. They’re not at their full potential yet, but they can definitely control their abilities better now. They will be able to hold a fight… should the need arise."

"They don't have to. They only need to defend themselves,” the man said evenly. “Have you heard word from Doyoung?"

Taeyong paused before giving an answer.

"Yes. He has confirmed that it is most likely Junho Lee who is working with Cypher."

The man's hand froze ever so slightly as he moved to pick up a paper from his desk. His face was calm, but there was something about the set of his lips that made Kun and Taeyong surreptitiously exchange glances.

"I appreciate you working with the Kim's, Taeyong. He's probably watching me very closely, so I needed you to do the job."

"Do you want us to get rid of him?" Kun's voice was quiet but steady when he asked the burning question. The Headmaster shook his head, his eyes hooded by the shadows from the flickering candle.

"No. Not yet."

Kun's jaw clenched ever so slightly at the answer. His morals tell him to take the man's word with no question—follow him with blind loyalty like he has always done—but he couldn't bring himself to do it now, not when everything seems to be crumbling around him. From the way that Taeyong was holding himself beside him, shoulders stiff and face set, he knows that the other Legacy shares the same stand.

"With all due respect, Sir. I would like to understand why," he finally decided to ask after gathering enough courage to speak again. The man peered at him from behind his glasses, curious, but not seemingly surprised by his question. He didn't know if it was just a trick of the light, but he thought he saw the shadow of a smile on the other's lips before he finally moved to cross his hands together.

"You and Taeyong always had the right to ask. The pair of you just do not give yourselves the full credit you are due."

For a second, Kun felt oddly like a child being gently reprimanded by a parent. Gathering himself again, he decided to press more to get answers.

"We do not understand why you're protecting Junho. He betrayed you. He betrayed all of us."

"I am not protecting him. I am protecting the Family… From him."

The look of silent confusion from him and Taeyong was not lost on the Headmaster. The man, on the other hand, seemed set and collected as always.

"Cypher is already a formidable enemy on their own. They will wage war on us soon, there is no doubt about it. Going after Junho now will only split the Family more—and we are currently at a disadvantage of not knowing who else within our network has decided to side with him. If he finds out that we know, we'll just be pushing ourselves in a corner. The Lee's have resources, and having those used against us is the last thing we need."

"So we will just let him do whatever, then?" Taeyong asked this time.

"No. When the time comes… And you will know when—you will have to take him down. Even his own son should he decide to betray my daughter."

The way the man said that so evenly without batting an eye made Kun and Taeyong's blood run cold. The Headmaster is a kind, rational man that oftentimes, people forget how cunning and ruthless he can be in his own ways.

"For now, I want to keep him alive. After all… He might still become useful in the future."

Both men stared at him, though none decided to speak up this time. Wordlessly, he picked up a thick brown envelope from his table and offered it to the two. Kun and Taeyong looked at each other before the former took it silently from his hands.

"When that time comes, my daughter will be the first person to know what best to do with him," the Headmaster continued as he leaned back on his chair. "Just the same as she will know what to do next once things start to unfold. When the moment calls for it, give her that envelope. It will help her."

Kun's fingers tightened on the edges of the bundle he was holding. There was a heavy feeling that had started to weigh on his stomach, similar to the one he had when the man talked to him first after his quick absence.

"Are you leaving, Sir?"

A shadow of something quickly glossed over the man's expression. It was so brief, but it was enough to give Taeyong and Kun the answer they hoped they wouldn't have to hear ever.

"There are things that only I can do in this fight. So yes… I would have to leave my daughter. For a while," he said, his eyes moving from one young man to the next. Maybe it was the darkness and the shadows dancing in the room, but in that moment, the Headmaster saw in the pair two other young men who stood shoulder to shoulder in this room once, many decades ago, promising their allegiance to the Arcana. The memory made his chest constrict with a mix of emotions—pain… longing… and sadness for what was and what will never be again.

He let the memories linger for a few more seconds before finally giving the two a small smile.

"I know I have already asked for too much from the both of you, but if I can have one last request… I hope you two can put her and the Family's best interests at heart while I am away."

"Consider it my last request as IL Giudizio."

******* Your footsteps echoed softly in the hallways as you made your way back to your room. Tucked loosely by your side are a couple of hardbounds, titles you decided to sneak out of the library in this unholy hour because you were already out of reading material. It's been weeks since most of the student body have been sent back to their homes, leaving Rosewood silent and vacant. Since then, you’ve tried to take comfort in the stillness surrounding you by keeping mostly to yourself and out of everyone's way.

You have already turned the last corner to your room when your phone suddenly vibrated in your jeans pocket. By the time you managed to pull it out and check your messages, you were already at your door, one hand wrapping around the knob while you tried to open the message notification. You have barely caught Mark's name on your screen when a gasp was suddenly torn from you as someone grabbed you by the arm, the motion causing the books you were holding to tumble to the floor. Your eyes grew wide as your back made contact against the wood, your elbow grazing the cold knob of your door as you were pushed against it. Your first thought was that you were being attacked, but a different kind of shock gripped you when you realized what exactly was happening.

You didn't really need to see him to know whose lips were pressed against you the next second. Even in your confusion, your hands automatically gripped the front of his shirt as he held you close to him. He was holding you so tightly that it took you a moment to guide his face back so you could see him better. Dark eyes met yours, hooded by his windswept, messy hair as you searched his face. The warmth of his breath fanned your lips and his fingers only dug deeper on your hip bones as if he was afraid that you will push him away.

"Jeno, what—"

"I need you. Now."

Four words. That was all it took for you to pause and for your heart to stop in your chest. You held his gaze for a second longer before grabbing his hand the same time he reached out to turn the knob behind you. Wordlessy, you pulled him in, leaving nothing but the sound of your door closing in the empty hallway.

*******

A/N: This took a while because I simply could not put my thoughts into words properly. Enjoy!

Taglist:

@effulgentfireflies, @kasperneo, @lostlovesoul11, @byunniebaekhyunnie, @smolpeyy, , @dearj43, @bettyschwallocksyee, @babyksworld, @yongboksfreckles, @user103843, @lovehowdream, @glitching-wren, @jhornytrash, @coconuttiez8d, @negincho, @stopeatread, @ellatizw, @huangberryyy, @wonyofanclub,

Untaggable for some reason: @renjunsflower, @coconuttiez8d

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mxbbadperson · 17 days ago

Text

arcane: a rarest rose that ever deigned to bloom

Show: Arcane Ship: Jayce Talis/Viktor AU: Vampire, Family WARNING: UNDERAGE, (LEGAL) INCEST notes: vampire dadson let's gooooooo also. DARK JAYCE, BABEY, title from the song Love Song for a Vampire by Annie Lennox 1. bc of the title and 2. bc of the rest of the lyric DIVIDER BY: @/strangergraphics

There was a boy in this warehouse but no one knew what to do with him. Tiger shifted. Lamb's head jerked towards him and Tiger knew that underneath her mask, she was glaring at him. He couldn't help it! There was something strange about this boy.

He looked like a normal one. Somewhere between thirteen and fifteen but Tiger couldn't pinpoint where; dark hair and bright eyes and on the skinny side with a cane. But there was something in those bright eyes. And well, a boy in his situation shouldn't be so calm. That was the thing, how was he so calm? 'Do you know where you are,' Lamb prompted.

The boy's bright eyes looked up at her then went around the room. 'Yes,' he answered, his voice accented and soft. He shook his head. 'Whatever that you want, you can have it.' Tiger's mouth fell open. What?

'What?' Lamb barked.

'Whatever you want, you can have it. Just put me back,' the boy said.

Tiger looked Cat. Cat looked back. Their eyes met. What the fuck? 'You don't get to demand that,' Lamb snapped.

'This isn't a demand. I'm promising you,' the boy said. And there was determination in it. 'I promise if you put me back, I'll give you whatever you want.'

Lamb was silent. 'What can you give us,' Cat demanded.

'What is it that you want,' the boy said earnestly.

Lamb licked his lips. 'And if we don't do that?' he asked.

The boy's calm expression shifted. It turned into something lost and sad. 'Then you'll be in danger.'

Lamb stood straighter as if shocked. 'Are you threatening us,' she growled.

The boy shook his head. 'This isn't a threat. This is the truth, you're all in terrible danger and if you don't put me back, I can't keep you safe.'

'And what?' Cat snapped, 'you're worried about us?'

'Yes,' the boy said softly.

It hit Tiger then what this boy was talking about. 'You're dad is gonna send someone to get you,' he said hoarsely.

The boy's expression crumpled. He nodded jerkily. 'No,' he swallowed, hand flexing around the cane on his lap, 'he'll come get me himself. So please, if you don't put me back, you'll die.'

'You're dad? You're dad?' Cat muttered in disbelief the louder, 'how is you dad gonna hurt us, huh?'

'He can, he will. He's already hurt other people, please don't be the people he'll hurt this time.' Tiger stared at the boy's face. The sadness was still on his face. It seemed sincere?

Lamb jerked her head then stepped back. Cat and Tiger followed. 'Are you really listening to this kid?' Cat hissed.

'No, of course not,' Lamb snapped, 'but we still have to think about it.'

'What is there to think about?!' Cat said.

'He might be telling the truth,' Tiger murmured. Cat turned to him sharply. Tiger met her eyes. 'Even if he's not telling the truth, I'd rather not take the chance. If he gives us money, that's good.'

'And if he doesn't?' Cat growled.

'Then we still get out of here alive. Or is that a bad thing?' Tiger snapped.

'This doesn't make sense,' Lamb muttered. Tiger nodded in agreement. This boy's father didn't seem like much. Just the head of an old tool-making company, rarely seen because he stayed in his home. But when he was seen, he didn't look dangerous. Talkie-star handsome in his beard, soft voice and easy smiles.

Tiger thought of what he had read of the man. The man was even a philanthropist, had talked about donating toys and money to hospitals and clinics in Zaun because he wanted children to grow up happy and healthy. Said that they reminded him of his son. Tiger grimaced under his mask, the son that was the source of their problems right now.

It was supposed to be a simple job-if a kidnapping job can be called simple-and it was. They had broken into the boy's home and spirited him away into the night. But when they took the bag off his head, he was calm. Scarily, terrifyingly calm.

'I want the money too,' Tiger muttered, 'but I'd pick us staying alive.' Lamb and Cat were silent. 'This is a stupid fucking job anyway, someone set us up,' Tiger hissed.

Lamb and Cat stiffened and Tiger knew that their minds was now thinking the implications of them being here. 'Fuck,' Lamb growled under her breath.

Cat turned around. 'Alright, kid, we're letting you go.'

The boy's sad expression turned to relief. 'Thank you,' he blurted out. Tiger stared at him again. Well, the boy looked almost normal anyway. He was pale, wan, with dark circles under his eyes and Tiger had a feeling he'd bruise easily. Maybe that's why his dad kept him away from the public's eyes, kept him in the townhouse they found him in.

Lamb jerked her thumb to gesture behind her. 'Get up, we're getting you home.'

The boy nodded eagerly. He put his cane on the ground then got up. He went to them, his cane rhythmically thumping against the floor. 'How much were you thinking of demanding?' Lamb stiffened. 'I'm only asking because that will be how much I'll give you,' the boy clarified.

They walked to the warehouse's doors, their black automobile was waiting by it. 'You're really gonna give us whatever we want?' Cat challenged.

'I don't know why I shouldn't,' The boy said slowly.

'That easily?' Lamb asked.

'It's better than you being hurt.'

'Your dad really is that scary?' Tiger asked.

'Yes,' the boy said softly, 'he is.'

'Three million hexse,' Lamb declared. Tiger sucked in a breath. Was she fucking serious?!

'Alright,' the boy agreed without hesitation.

'What the fuck,' Cat muttered.

'That's about right,' a voice said. Lamb swore and Cat and Tiger jumped. They took out their shooters.

'That's what their lives are worth,' the boy called out. His soft voice somehow moving easily through the stale warehouse air.

'That's not for you to decide though,' the voice said. Its owner stepped out of shadows and into the moonlight. A shudder went through Tiger. It was the boy's dad. Talis. Tall and talkie-star handsome but there was no easy smile this time.

It was understandable but now there was something else. More than seriousness and anger. Talis stared at them and Tiger's skin crawled. 'Let them go,' the boy demanded.

Talis' eyes moved to look behind them. 'That's not for you to decide.'

'It is! They let me go so you don't have to do anything,' the boy insisted.

Talis shook his head. 'No,' he said softly. He took a step forward. Tiger jerked his shooter up and pulled the trigger. The gunshot was loud in the silence. Lamb and Cat jumped. They aimed their shooters at him and started shooting.

Talis staggered and even stumbled back. When he straightened, there was a hole in his shirt. It was on his chest. But he didn't seem bothered by it. 'What the fuck!' Lamb hissed. They continued shooting.

Talis shook his head. He disappeared. 'What!' Cat barked. Talis reappeared in front of her. His hand shot forward. He lifted Cat then threw her at Lamb and Tiger. They collided with a shout.

Tiger struggled to get on his hands and knees. His shooter, where the fuck was his shooter?! Shoes appeared at the edge of his vision. He sucked in a breath. Talis crouched down. 'You weren't supposed to let them go, V.' What the fuck was Talis talking about?

'I'll eat when I want to eat.' Tiger heard the boy say.

'That's not good enough,' Talis shot back.

'You'll have to accept it,' the boy declared.

What the fuck were they talking about! Tiger thought. There was a movement behind him. Lamb lifted her shooter. She pointed it at Talis. 'Eat this,' she snarled.

There was a gunshot and Talis' head snapped back under the force of it. But he didn't fall, he didn't fall. He swayed, catching himself. He turned his head to face them.

Beneath his mask, Tiger's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. Because Talis slowly healed. There was a flash of white then this disgusting red then skin spreading and sealing the hole. Talis' eyes were light but the whites of them had turned black. He lunged.

Tiger felt something on his shoulders as he flew back. There was a shout and everything went black.

Tiger woke up with gasp, his hand scrambling for his throat. He yelled out names. 'Here,' a voice answered. Tiger's head snapped towards it. It was Cat. Tiger jumped to his feet. But he didn't succeed because his knees buckled. A sharp gasp was wrenched from his mouth.

But he didn't fall. Someone had caught him. 'Easy,' Lamb muttered.

'Are you okay?' Tiger said quickly, 'are you both okay?!'

'I'm fine,' Lamb answered. She looked at Cat.

'I'm fine too. But what the fuck was that?' Cat's voice was high, the panic in it clear.

Tiger understood her panic. He remembered them letting the boy go then them walking to their automobile, the boy walking behind them from the thumps of his cane. But not anything more than that. What came after was a blank. Except the feeling of terror.

'What the fuck,' Lamb said shakily. What the fuck was right. The boy's dad, Talis, had come to get him and he did something. They didn't know what but that meant that Talis' easy smiles and giving nature hid something shouldn't be touched.

Tiger got on his shaking legs then held out his hand. Lamb took and Tiger pulled her up. They both went to Cat. And the worst thing was that there was no way they could tell anyone. They helped her up. They all rushed to their automobile, Lamb slamming the passenger door shut beside her. They took off their masks.

They looked at each other, eyes searching for any injuries. There were none, except the terrified look in their eyes. Tiger turned around. He started the automobile. Someone set them on this job and maybe they'd find out who.

There was no sound except of a cane hitting the wooden floor. A door swung open without a sound the swung closer, the click of the lock loud in the silence. 'This was meant for you, you know,' Jayce pointed out.

'I know,' Viktor said softly.

'And yet you didn't drink,' Jayce said coldly. He picked Viktor up then crossed the room. There was a desk with an armchair behind it. Jayce sat down, settling Viktor's legs across his lap. Viktor set his cane against the desk. 'What's wrong?' Jayce murmured.

Viktor stared up at him. Sickly with dark circles under his eyes and he felt so fragile in Jayce's hold. If it was anybody else, he and his beast would have been one in feeling glee at the thought of bones easily snapping under his hands. But here and now, there was only worry. Even his beast was quiet from uneasiness.

Viktor swallowed. He shook his head. Jayce's expression soften. He leaned down. He kissed Viktor and Viktor returned it, hand coming up to rest on Jayce's nape. 'I just don't want to that's all,' Viktor whispered against Jayce's lips. And Jayce understood. This wasn't the first time this happened after all.

It was a wonder that his childe kept his kindness but it was times like these that Jayce wished he kept less of it. It came to Viktor sometimes, this melancholy that was in the form of disgust at drinking blood. It came and went but sometimes it came within moments of each other. The last one was barely two months ago.

'Then I will make you drink,' Jayce answered. Viktor didn't nod, there was no need to. This was well in Jayce's right as his sire and father to do. And Viktor didn't want to stop him. He knew that if Jayce didn't do this, he'd wilt. And the thought of that brought up the memories of his sickness. Viktor didn't want to remember that. Jayce held Viktor's face.

His thumb brushed over Viktor's lips. Viktor's mouth opened. Jayce's light eyes darkened, this part always brought a different kind of hunger. As Viktor opened his mouth wider, his fangs lengthened. Jayce ran a finger under them. It always brought a thrill to see them. They were proof that his sweetling was still in the world. He pulled out his fingers.

He pressed his wrist against Viktor's mouth. Viktor opened his mouth wider then bit down. There was a sting but it was a familiar one. Something that Jayce even missed. He missed it sometimes, the years after his childe's turning. The way his sweetling was such a greedy little thing, demanding blood and digging his teeth and claws so deeply that Jayce's body had to heal.

Jayce kissed Viktor's forehead then buried his nose in Viktor's hair. His sweetling would drink tomorrow. Jayce gritted his teeth, muscle in his jaw jumping. He knew he was growling. The hand around his wrist tightened. Jayce's growling turned quieter.

'You know I can't help it,' Jayce rumbled.

Viktor let his wrist go. Jayce already knew what he was going to stay. 'You're the one that ordered this.'

Jayce huffed. He wrapped his arms around Viktor then squeezed him against him. Viktor let out a huff of amusement. He leaned up. He nuzzled against Jayce's beard. Jayce kissed him. The taste of his blood was welcome because it came from his sweetling's mouth. If only Viktor could live by drinking just from him! But he couldn't. He couldn't. And this unending hunger for his sweetling brought this unreasonable jealousy and rage. And his sweetling feeling the same didn't lessen it at all.

Viktor ran his tongue across Jayce's fangs. One of them cut Viktor's tongue and Jayce swallowed. The kiss broke and they looked into each other's eyes. Jayce lifted Viktor then set him on his desk. Viktor bared his neck. Jayce's mouth watered. His hands moved down as he kissed and mouth at Viktor's neck. His hands down Viktor's shirt until he reached the waistband of his pants.

#jayvik #arcane #my writing #i write #my aus

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