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aajjks · 26 days

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Silent Cries (m)

synopsis. Not everything could go his way and he had to learn this the hard way

Disclaimer: this is pretty dark. Read at your own risk. Please keep in mind that this is purely fictional and I don’t think that Jungkook or any Bts member would ever act like this! Read with caution.

warning: ünhëälthy thèmès, fèrtïlïty ïssǔès, prègnâncy, öbsëssïön, mèntïöns ôf âbörtïön, dïvörcè, sèxüǎl thêmês, cryïng, yn rèálly wánts á báby, dêprèssïön, dárk thêmês.

note. Let’s welcome this new JK to my Multiverse. I hope you will ask him fun questions as well, and I hope you will love him even though he’s a little ☠️ ENJOY!

Header credit: @callingholly ❤️

***NOT EDITED***

You were told that you were not capable of having children, but… jungkook accepted that part of you. you know why.. it is because he loves you, and he never wanted children.

The day is gloomy, more than usual. You stand on the bathroom floor, your gaze is blurry. unshed tears in your eyes as you stare at the pregnancy test. The stick trembles in your hands. It is all over now.

You close your eyes in order to erase the image out your eyes. The image of two straight lines on the stick. You are supposed to feel really happy.

But why Fate is never really on your side?

Does God really hate you that much? All of your life, there was nothing but suffering, your parents never cared about you.

You and your husband, Jungkook- you love him, you really do but he’s just sometimes too much to bear. you’ve been having some problems in your marriage and you almost were considering divorce but now?

now, you are carrying another innocent life inside of you. That could be ruined because of you. Because of Jeon Jungkook, who ruins everything.

The thing is that he doesn’t want a child. He freaks out over the idea of having a child.

You sob at how pathetic you are. How could you let this happen? You are pregnant, with his child. You want to die. But now, you can’t do that.

If there’s anything you and him are not compatible with? It’s your family plan. You’ve always wanted children. Unlike your husband.

And no matter what his reaction is going to be, you can’t help but grab your belly, wiping your tears that fall.

You are going to have this baby. You can’t kill it- your husband will suggest it, you know him so well.

Because you are not a killer. You can’t kill the little life inside of you. That you so desperately wanted all your life. You’ve prayed for this moment.

And even though you have made your decision,

Panic rises in your chest as you come out of the bathroom and look at Jungkook’s and yous wedding photos that litter the creamy beige walls. Thankfully, he’s not home right now so you will have some time to relax and plan how to tell him.

But- it’s almost time.

He could be home any minute now! The ticking of the clock almost warns you. Time is going.

You throw the stick in the dumpster. He’s going to find it anyways. you have no idea why you feel so nervous… You feel like you are being suffocated. And you can’t be saved.

As your hand rests on your yet to be swollen stomach, something switches in you. You have to be strong now. You need to survive for your child. You have to make him understand. This child will be a blessing for the both of you. You are going to become strong.

You are going to change everything just for the sake of your child. Because this little bean is now the reason for your existence. Maybe this could fix your marriage-because you really don’t want to leave your husband-you’re not sure about what you want..

You quickly wipe the tears as a small smile paints your lips. Your grandma raised you to be strong and you can just give into Jungkooks stupid demand. You are going to be like your grandma, who raised you, took care of you. Became your mum, that you never had.

This baby is just as jungkook as yours too, and it is going to become your strength. This baby is a gift from God, your saving grace.

Your husband was really happy on the particular day, when you had been told about your fertility issues, he made it really clear that he never wanted children, he always wanted it, to be him and you.

Your thoughts are cut off short when the doorbell rings. And the main door unlocking. talk of the devil? And He shall appear.

You inhale a deep breath.

Time to do this.

“I’m pregnant, Jungkook.” The words come out of your mouth so easily. Jungkook who is cuddling, your body, a habit he has. Looks up at you.

He is currently laid in your lap, and he starts to laugh at you.

You want to roll your eyes, but this reaction is not really that surprising from him and you just have to be calm and collected right now.

“I-I’m so sorry? But you’re pregnant?” He stops laughing, as he wipes his tears. he looks so bad you with his brown eyes and you can tell he’s waiting for you to say that you’re kidding but you’re not.

You just smile at him in pity. Your nod of confirmation was all it took for Jungkook to start panicking.

“W-What are you saying!? Y-You can’t be! You can’t be pregnant!!” He gets up from your shared bed as he runs his hand frantically through his hair. His dark damp, long locks hiding his eyes.

What the fuck is he talking about? His words hit a nerve in you. He knows damn well how you got pregnant.

“What the fuck Jungkook! How can you ask me how I’m pregnant?! It’s because of you! You did this!” You scream at the panicking man.

“because I thought you weren’t supposed to get pregnant?!” He’s right about that but it’s not like you planned on this to happen. You also thought that you couldn’t have children.

So what was the point in using protection birth control, like he always said to you. You just both have to deal with the consequences of your actions.

“B-But yn! I don’t want a child.” There we go.

“There is not supposed to be someone else between us! Not a-a baby!” Jungkook cries desperately as he grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you as if you’ll understand his point. You get up from the bed.

If it’s an argument he wants, you’ll give him that.

You cannot believe that he’s crying right now.

You glare at the doe eyed man who is looking at you as if you have grown two heads. “Jungkook! You disgust me.” You spit at him. You can’t believe him, he is such a selfish person. Jungkook flinches at the coldness of your tone as his grip loosens on your shoulders.

His voice comes out rough and broken but he keeps on apologising to you. “Y-Yn P-Please! Y-You don’t mean that r-right? You can’t! Y-You love me! Just me! And no one else! We need to get rid of this baby!” He rambles on like a madman and as your brain register his words his last sentence hits you and your eyes widen in disbelief.

Why are you even surprised? Even though you knew he was going to say that? it just hurts a little bit more hearing it coming from his own mouth without any hesitation.

“W-What?! A-Are you hearing yourself Jungkook? You-You’re suggesting that I-I kill my unborn child?” Tears well up in your eyes, and they immediately start to fall down your cheeks at Jungkook’s suggestion. You avert your gaze away from Jungkook’s crazed eyes.

“You’re a sick bastard! Fucking monster!” You sob at him. Your curses don’t seem to affect him, it is like he has gone numb, the irony. He stands still.

“No. one. can. come. between. us.” Jungkook’s silent whispers could be heard by you. You massaged your temples, now there was only one option left.

“If this baby dies then I’ll die with it. And if you don’t want this baby..” you take in a breath. He always gets your blood pressure so high.

“If you don’t want this baby that means you don’t want me either, so I will just divorce you because I have been thinking about it. you are becoming too much for me to deal with it’s time you fucking grow Up!”

“I will have this baby because this is the only ray of hope in my life. Now, it’s your choice, Jungkook.” Your words come out of your mouth carefully. You wait for his response.

But all you get is silence.

When he doesn’t respond you decid to leave the room, but a loud sob holds you back. Did you mention that your husband is actually pathetic and good for nothing?

Yes, he’s rich but, so what? Yes, he handsome in the first man you loved but now you’re beginning to regret it.

His rough screams for you please you, oddly his suffering pleases you to the core.

It was about time he suffered.

“B-Be careful Y/N!” Jungkook instructs you while you laid down on the bed, your hands coming to caress your 6 months pregnant belly. His eyes are fixated on your movements, never left your belly as he smiled softly.

“Y/N just one month is left until our baby is here!” Soft giggles left his mouth as he laid beside you and caresses your stomach. “You look so beautiful like this! You’re pregnant with my child. You’ll be the mother of my child. We’re going to be parents! Now, everyone would know that you’re mine! This baby will make us inseparable, y-you won’t be able to leave me now!” Another chuckle vibrates from his chest.

You’re not sure what has happened to him these past few months but you’re glad that there’s improvement.

Maybe it was your threat to divorce and that got his head straight.

But meanwhile…

He could look at you forever and not get bored. You look so ethereal with your belly swollen because of him. He made you like this. The thought of that really pleases him.

Now you couldn’t ever think of leaving him! This child has bounded you to Jungkook forever.

Your tired voice brings him back to reality, “Jungkook he’s going to be so beautiful and cute! I love the little shoes that your parents bought for him oh! And his little clothes?? And the baby bathtub? His nursery is by far my most favourite! My lovely son! I can’t wait to meet you! Mommy loves you so much!” You talked to the baby. An exciting smile gracing your features.

Yeah, it’s a little boy. And his parents are so excited for their first grandchild.

Everyone is excited about him, even his friends are excited to become uncles.

He doesn’t understand what is the breed about having a little child, because all they do is cry and fuss. And poop.

Jungkook scoffs at you cooing at the child who wasn’t even born yet. You used to coo at him like this. Jungkook was supposed to be your baby! Jealousy slowly starts to creep up again.

He needs to stay calm. But how can when his brain is just refusing to give him any peace.

A thousand scenarios run through his mind. What if you don’t love him anymore? Or what if you will give the baby more attention than Jungkook? Or worse, what if the baby will completely take his place in your heart? And worst of all, what if you completely forget about him?

“Kook! Jungkook! Your phones buzzing! It’s Eunwoo!” You shake his shoulders to get his attention, your husband has a tendency to zone out.

You couldn’t help but wonder about what he’s thinking about so focused?

“Jungkook!” your tone got louder this time. Jungkook finally blinked as he smile at you.

“O-Oh I’m so sorry Y/N! Please pass me my phone, princess?” You decide to let go the urge of asking what was he thinking so deeply about and pass him the phone.

Jungkook kisses your lips quickly as he excuses himself out. You nod, and he smiles brightly while picking up the phone. You then focus on the book.

It makes sure that he’s away from you. The large house has a lot of benefits to it, whenever he wants to complain? he can just come in one of the rooms and scream.

As soon as he leaves the room a cry left him. “Eunwoo! I-I need your help! I-I don’t want this baby! He will steal Y/N away from me! N-No that can’t happen! Help me please! Y-Y/N is already slipping away from my grip! Help me get rid of this baby! Please!” Jungkook rambles on like a maniac through the phone while on the other line, Eunwoo sighs heavily.

“calm down first.” He spoke timidly. Jungkook took a deep breath. He’s right, Jungkook needs to get a grip on himself first.

“Now listen, we talked about this.” Eunwoo’s tone changed. “W-What!?” The long haired male rolls his eyes, because he knows he’s about to get lectured But a lecture is not what he needs. Jungkook needs a solution to his problem.

“I don’t think you should do something so immoral like that…” Jungkook got confused. What is he talking about?

“W-We can’t kill him! Y-Y/N wouldn’t want that! N-No!” Jungkook clearified. Jungkook couldn’t displease you.

“What are you implying?” Eunwoo took in a deep breath.. “having a child with her is a good thing, kook. That’s what I’ve been trying to make you understand… she will be with you forever.”

Of course you will be with him forever because it’s not like he will let you divorce him but why does everyone keep saying that a child will make your relationship only stronger?

You don’t even touch him.. anymore. Maybe it’s the sexual frustration catching up to him. Maybe everyone is right.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at eunwoo’s voice. He’s not exactly wrong though. Jungkook take some moment to think about this all over again.

He did read on the Internet that sex will help induce labor-and if he will tell you that you will definitely give in to him. He cannot believe that he’s thinking about that right now, but he can’t help it.

There’s still three months left in your delivery. He can wait for three months, right? Or maybe he could just seduce you into bed tonight.

Why are you not horny. Women tend to get really hormonal with your hormonal issues. Don’t have anything to do with your sex drive.

He will fix that.

A dirty smile is now on Jungkook’s face. He holds the phone tighter as he speaks the final words to eunwoo.

“Thanks man! For always helping me! I owe you.” He smiles and sighes.

You have always given him what he wanted, jungkook he always managed to get his way with you, so maybe this time it should be you in his place.

“No problem man! It’s just like how you helped me get my girl… Seeing you like this with yn makes me remember when I was at your place... but I am glad that you have understood because she deserves to be happy..”

Jungkook chuckles loudly. “Of course! What are brothers for?” Jungkook’s eyes darken, because he knows that as much as eunwoo would like to think that he’s different from jungkook, he’s not.

He’s also right about the fact that you deserve to be happy. That’s why he’s been so hopeful supportive during your pregnancy.

“Let’s see when the baby comes..”and after saying goodbye to his friend? Jungkook walks back to your shared bedroom.

There you are, hand on your belly and your eyes scrunched together at the book you’re reading. He smiles at the sight.

No one could ever come between you and him. Not even his own blood. He belonged to you and you belonged to him. And the baby can never come between you and Jungkook.

You will have to decide the baby’s fate.

It all depends on you now.

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yeeterthek33per · 8 months

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Love it, Love you (Caitlin Foord x Reader)

A/n requested

Summary: You and Caitlin are filming for the disney matildas series.

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Slow motion scene of Caitlin bounding over to you on the sideline, hands grabbing your face, pressing your lips together after scoring against Spain. There's a soft flow of piano music over the top.

"Ya know, I don't think we ever really explained that one to the girl's either."

Caitlin chuckles softly and shakes her head in agreeing negativity. Both of you are sitting on the white couch in your house in London. You're tucked under her arm.

"Yeah, no, I don't think we'd told them at that point. So I think they kind of freaked out on us after the game."

You lean off the couch with a soft laugh, head in your hands, ruffling your hair slightly.

Caitlin shakes her head with a sigh.

"That's an understatement. Poor Steph, girl was getting bombarded as well. Not that she knew either. Cait and I were just sitting there while they all kind of just lost their minds. Steph looked utterly disappointed that we hadn't told her sooner."

"Your sister.. well."

You give Caitlin a look.

"My sister looked ready to deck you. Macca looked like she would probably have to hold her back and Sam just facepalmed and told the girls to cool it so we could actually answer. Tony didn't even bother sticking around for the whole debacle."

"Yeah, that was a tough one. I don't think Lans has been able to trust me properly since. I love the girl, but man does she hold a grudge."

You slap her on the shoulder with an eye roll.

"Excuse me, you forget you're engaged to her sister here. I imagine any protective older sister would be peaved about one of their best mates suddenly sidling up with their sibling. Also I'd like to point out you could very well still call that woman to help you bury a dead body and she would do so no questions asked. So I'd like to think she still trusts you very much thanks."

Cut to a video of Caitlin celebrating with Alanna after a brilliant header from the defender against Jamaica.

"Don't know if that makes it better, honestly. I'm afraid she'll stick me in my sleep one day."

Cut back to the couch, You give her a playful glare.

"Just because you copped the shovel talk from one of the tallest girls on the team, does not mean she'd actually murder you. At least not without prompting. I can't imagine she would kill you without you doing something first."

Caitlin just turns her head back to the camera with an incredulous look.

"Anyway, that was four days before our third anniversary. Literally two days before I proposed. I think Alanna might have been too late to stop it or you know, try to break us up. Ya know?"

You fake a cough into your balled hand, turning away slightly.

"What? Did she actually try? Oh my god, I swear I will kick her butt if she actually tried."

You whip your head around at her, a disbelieving laugh leaving your lips.

"Oh you'll kick her but will you? What happened to being terrified of her?"

Caitlin keeps her mouth shut and you tut softly, hand resting on her knee.

"That's what I thought. Yes she did try to forbid me from dating you, cinderella style and all. But after some convincing, she switched it up to reminding me that I could still dump you if I changed my mind and she wouldn't totally gut you afterwards."

Caitlin looks dead on into the lense, an unimpressed look of told-you-so playing on her expression. You burst out laughing at that.

"See what I have to deal with? Why did I agree to marry you again?"

You smack her on the chest, backhanded.

"You're the one that proposed doofus."

She just grins cheekily.

"Oh yeah, I did too. is it too late for a refund?"

You roll your eyes, and scoff.

"Give you 'refund'."

She rubs your shoulder, pecking you on the cheek.

"You love me."

"Debatable."

You receive puppy dog eyes in return and poke her nose, a resounding groan as you push her slightly, turning back to the camera again.

The video fades to black and shifts to a new scene between you.

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You're standing in your backyard watching Caitlin run around and play tug of war with Peach.

"I'm so proud of her, everything she does is just phenominal and I'm glad I got to be part of her journey. The moment I got the call from her saying she'd been considered for an Arsenal transfer, it was then I knew I would follow her anywhere."

Cut to footage of Caitlin scoring against Aston Villa.

Cut back to you looking at the brunette, with major heart eyes.

"We were only together for about a few weeks at that point, but having been close friends before then made it feel like longer. She wasn't one hundred percent in it, especially since she thought she'd be leaving me in Australia on my own since Alanna was about to transfer to tottenham too."

Footage switches to Alanna, in a Manchester City hoodie, sitting in her own living room.

"I felt weird, leaving my sister, we'd always been one for one, and this was the first time we'd properly been separated by ocean. She came with me to Orlando and before that, had stayed with our parents. We both got contracted for Sydney and just hadn't really separated after that. Though I was pretty chuffed to find out she was moving closer again, with my best friend at that."

Back to you in the backyard, Caitlin now sat beside you on an outdoor recliner.

"Surprised the hell out of me, getting that call from my manager, he was like, Y/n, I've got big news, Arsenal want you. I think I was so shocked I just laughed. I thought he was one crazy a****** for joking about that. What are the chances I get contracted by the exact same club as her within just weeks of each other. Surprised her too."

Caitlin puffs out a laugh.

"You didn't mention why though. Surprised because I just mopily walk into training, thinking about how to deal with the distance anxiety and just, in you walk, day thirteen of me being in London. 'Hey, sweetheart, how's your day been? Oh yeah by the way, I'm playing here now'."

"To be fair, It was meant to be a surprisez considering I basically had to schedule everything perfectly. Without Steph's help, because ya know, that would've been suspicious."

You lean your head on her shoulder, her hsnd comes up to run through your hair.

"Stephs face was pretty funny though, what are the chances three Aussies all get contracted within just weeks of each other. The older girls were all like 'what is jonas thinking?'. It's definitely been remarkable though, both of them are phenominal and they deserve every bit of everything we achieve with the gunners."

She looks down at you with a loving smile and you grin widely back up at her.

Footage of Steph and Caitlin's starting for Arsenal, standing in the lineup, your face new amongst the starters further down the line, right beside Leah Williamson.

"It was certainly something else. Being able to play with such big names at the time. Kim Little was one in particular that I'd been terrified of in that moment. How many times I'd seen Caitlin go head to head with her. Now I know her better though, she's just a big softy and she's got a soft spot for me, too."

Caitlin shakes her head.

"I think she means spoilt, this one can do no harm in the captains eyes. The baby of the team she likes to claim. Even though she's only like two years younger than me."

You protest.

"Twenty-three was pretty young, obviously not the youngest on the team, but it's not like I was pushing thirty already, jesus."

Caitlin gets an offended look on her face.

"Excuse you, thirty is not even that old. 'Pushing thirty already' you're twenty-six, thats not far from thirty thank you, also don't let Kimmy hear you say that."

You chuckle.

"Eh, she loves me. But you're closer to thirty than me so."

And you poke out your tongue at her. Your girlfriend just looks at the camera again.

"Bloody childish, what do I tell ya?"

You kiss her cheek, a small smirk on your lips.

"You love me."

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Video footage of the two of you making a huge passing play up the left side of the field, playing against England. The ball gets switched in a fast tikki taka motion as you both move up the line. You make a run for the box and it's like Caitlin doesn't even have to look for you as she sends the ball right to your head for you to sneak past Earps, who despite her best efforts, can't make contact with the ball.

Cut to you both walking through a forested walkway outside of the city. A long shot from the back, and then flicks to a full shot at the front as you both slowly walk down the concrete pathway.

"When she received her first call up to the team, she called me frantically, practically balling her eyes out."

"Balling my eyes out, I could hardly talk into the phone to get it out. Coach had called me when I was at home on my own, and Caitlin was in at the office."

"I stand by this, but you'd actually called me at the worst time too. I was sitting beside my coworkers on a mini break, one of them is a physio on the Arsenal team as well as one for where I work. All they hear coming from my phone is just incoherent blubbering, followed by "Babe! I GOT IN!" Of course, I wasn't following exactly what she meant and my dumb brain just went, in like, the ice bath?"

Your laughter rings out at that.

"That's what you thought I meant?"

Caitlin nods slowly, a small blush developing on her cheeks.

"That's just what we'd been talking about at the time, including how you in particular refused to touch the ice baths for the first six months, someone basically had to carry you in with them. So like, I was excited for you to finally have gotten over that fear on your own."

You push her slightly, a loving smile making it's way onto your lips.

"That's really sweet, but no I did that three months after that, when I finally decided to stop being a wuss, now that I was actually playing in the big big big league, I had to. But that's beside the point."

"Uhuh, sure sweets, anyway, when she finally started going into the phone call itself, it did finally click in my head because I never actually explicitly mentioned the ice bath either so we were both still pretty excited, but for different reasons."

"Yeah, I did not like her initial reaction at the time."

"I was still super confused why you were like full sobbing about it though. I was like 'okay, congrats baby, you did it, no big deal'. I think she was ready to hit me after that one."

"Mild understatement."

Caitlin chuckles, bringing your knuckles up to her lips.

"so when she brought up how amazing it felt to finally break onto the national team, I just was like 'Ohhhhh... oh.... OH, Congrats baby!'."

The footage cuts to your hands linked in the between you, her thumb gently caressing the skin there before cutting back to a mid shot of you both from the front as you giggle softly.

"I just kept thinking, what did she think I meant, what does she mean no big deal. Cocky woman. To think I wanted to marry her too. She did get super excited for me, though, after that. She's a little slow, but I love her."

You give her a shit eating grin as she glares at you.

"She's honestly such a little brat sometimes, can you believe this?"

You giggle softly, bumping hips with her.

"You love it."

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Footage of some of the afterparty in the locker room plays, Caitlin clearly in view sculling champagne out of the trophy.

"Back at the Cup of Nations. We were out celebrating in a VIP bar, and they'd given us free entry, the whole team, I mean. There were drinks being passed around every two minutes. I think we were just so ridiculously drunk after that. Steph was the only one not really drunk. "

"Well yeah, to be fair she was kind of... well."

You roll your eyes at the striker.

"She was injured, so she had to kind of not drink. Caitlin, the dumby, dropped her kitbag in the doorway, so when we drunkenly stumbled in, we kicked it out of the way. Out popped the engagement ring. Luckily, I didn't notice. But neither did Caitlin. Steph did though, pretty sure it was the first thing to catch her eye as she dropped us both off in the hotel room. She just picked it up, threw it back in the bag, and when we were both on the beds."

"Relatively."

"Somewhat. She took a photo of us, sent it to Caitlin, and said, "Congrats, don't let Lans see you propose." Not the message I was expecting to see that morning. I'd accidentally picked her phone up.-"

Cut to you sitting at the kitchen island in your house, Caitlin standing at the stove.

"You claim it was accidental, but we both know the truth, babe."

"It was! You left your phone right next to where I charge mine instead of on your own bloody bed side. Anyway! That was how I found out she wanted to propose. Because my lovely fiancee here couldn't put her stuff away. As always."

You give her a mildly playful, unimpressed look.

"Pfft, that was all drunk caitlin, I don't associate with that chick. She's an idiot."

You purse your lips.

"Clearly."

Caitlin stays stirring the pan for a second before turning around suddenly to your suppressed laughter.

"Hey!"

You let it out at that point, shoulders wracked with laughter, head on the bench. When you finally catch your breath, you look at her again, but she's turned back to the stove. What you can't see is the small smile on her lips, which the camera does.

"Love you."

She turns her head slightly to say something back.

"You better. Ya dork."

It's your turn to pout again.

"Hey!"

You gesture to your girlfriend in front of you, eyes in contact with the camera.

"See what I have to deal with? Won't even say it back, so mean."

She turns back to you with a small wink, smirk playing at her mouth.

"You love it."

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The image switches to you both sitting laying back on a lounge chair set up outside the back door, watching the summer sun go down in London.

"I'm so grateful we get to be together throughout this whole experience. She's the love of my life and she's an amazing football player too."

You smile up at her from your place leant against her chest. The camera pans around as you both share a quick kiss.

"I don't know, feels like you've got me beat. I feel like I don't tell you I love you enough."

Caitlin gives a quick glance to the camera lens.

"She does it every two hours and still says that."

You pout up at her. She pinches your cheek softly, kissing you on the forehead.

"You're lucky I love you."

Caitlin looks fully up at the camera this time.

"See?"

"Oh my god. Hush up"

"You love it."

"I love you."

She chuckles and you just shake your head and bring her in for a full kiss. Fade to black.

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#woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #caitlin foord imagine #caitlin foord imagines #caitlin foord x reader #caitlin foord #alanna kennedy

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kairiscorner · 7 months

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i saw your miguel requests are open!! Yay!

Could you write a Miguel x f!reader where reader is a stubborn, confident daughter of a crime lord and Miguel is required to be her bodyguard even though she doesn't want anything to do with her father's work?

HI DEARRRRR OFC OFC !! sorry if the climax seemed so sudden, i just wanted to do something related to the third image on the header bc it looked so cute rgh ... anyway, hoping you like this !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

bodyguard!miguel o'hara x fem!reader

the guy your father hired to protect you was... a real piece of work.

first of all, he was worse than your dad; he refused to let you do anything by yourself or go anywhere all alone, even in the most private of places. he sits close by you, or across you, while eating–he stands outside of the comfort room, standing all menacingly by your stall door and glaring down at anybody who walked by, and he'd decline invitations to anywhere fun and exciting for you in fear that you'd 'get all rebellious' on your father. "do you not know how to have fun? i'm starting to think you were, what, synthesized in a lab, never experienced wanting to have some excitement in your life?" you asked him sarcastically as he drove you home, with you at the front seat–your arms folded over your chest as you narrowed your eyes at your stoic-faced bodyguard.

miguel didn't budge and kept his eyes on the road; expertly driving without flinching or looking away one bit from the road ahead of you two. you raised an eyebrow and sighed, slumping further into your seat. "you're like the terminator, like, i don't even know if you kill people, but you're like him–a mindless robot that can only follow orders." you said with a huff. he finally spoke soon enough as you two hit a red light. "your father's paying me to follow orders, not to do anything else, let alone have idle chit-chat with his daughter." he said pretty bluntly and monotonously, making you groan exaggeratedly. "of course he would never pay for me to have a friend. he did when i was seven years old, though, that went to shit after a while, however." you blabbed as miguel looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"wait, of course, you don't wanna hear it." "no, no, keep talking, ma'am." miguel then blurted out himself. "that is... if you wish to keep talking." he added, distancing himself from you while still getting a little closer than ever before. you were surprised at how miguel was taking the initiative to talk to you, and you figured that since you had nothing better to do, why not tell this man your whole life story, thoughts, problems, and... just everything you've been keeping to yourself all this time. "fuck, i wanna leave home." you confessed to him as miguel slowed the car down, coming to a turn. "...and why's that?" he asked you, making you immediately shrug in response. "well, my dad wants to protect me and all, which, i'm grateful for, but... i don't wanna have a part in everything he does, i don't want... i don't want to do what he does, and i'm scared that, one day... i will end up like him." you confessed, tears streaming down your cheeks without you realizing. this has happened multiple times while you were alone, but never with anyone else–you'd sometimes cry without you realizing and mask it up, switch your emotions like flicking a switch on and off.

miguel, for the first time in a long while, turned his head to look at you and away from the road for a bit. he slowed down his driving and just... looked onto your scared, worried eyes that reflected just how fearful you were of becoming like your father. you were always so daring, rebellious, and confident to boot–you never showed fear unless it was a real, tangible fear you felt like it might come true one day if you weren't careful. he cleared his throat and looked up ahead, back on the road. "it's not my place to say anything regarding this matter, i'm not the most well-equipped person to have anything remotely helpful to say about any of this, but, um... you don't know that." he whispered those last few words in a small, creaking voice, not even sure why he's saying what he's saying; gulping back the already spoken words and shirking back in the driver's seat silently.

you sniffled back the tears you didn't realize you were holding in and looked at him quizzically. "...don't know what?" you asked him with a gentle voice, prompting him to finish his thought. miguel sighed and pulled up to the driveway, cutting through the dark evening with the bright lights illuminating from the luxurious car miguel drove you in and shut off the ignition, shifting in his seat as anxiety and nervousness filled his mind. "you... you don't know if you'll really be like him. you're not your father, you might not even become your father; you're... you. and, i like you for who you are, for all your snarkiness, cheekiness, you giving me a hard time all the time, i... i appreciate you as you are now." he finished, feeling his face get all flustered as he saw the way your eyes shone in the dark, how your tears from earlier glistened as the moon shone above and let light pour down upon your twinkling face. he got out of the car and went over to your door as usual to escort you out, but when he got close to your door, you left the window open and—as he got nearer towards you—you grabbed him gently by his tie, pulled him in close, and pressed your plush lips against his. you didn't know what you just did or why you even did what you did—but something about his words stuck to you and compelled you to... do some things you'd keep to yourself.

"i, um... thank you. you're... not as emotionless as i thought you'd be, i-i suppose..." you murmured silently as you pulled away from him and let his tie slip from your hands as you scooched out of the passenger and driver's seat, exiting out the door miguel left through; watching him stare at you with widened eyes and a bashful, surprised look on his face that made him think and ask himself, 'was that... real?' he merely nodded and kept clearing his throat as he stumbled away from the car, but fumbling the keys in his hands to lock the doors once he realized he forgot to do so. you swore you heard him mutter how 'soft your lips felt, how 'if your dad learned about that... there was no telling what'd happen to him', but most of all—you swore that he seemed softer, kinder, and a lot more vulnerable than before you kissed him.

he seemed so much warmer now, somehow...

this wasn't stopping you totally from overthinking all the time, though, it was good to know that he respected you as a person as opposed to some girl he was going to protect at all costs. but the reason why you kissed him... it sent your face to a furious fluster and made your brain short-circuit even remembering it all, made you weak in the knees and stutter a whole lot while thinking about it, looking forward to the next time you'd see him, for once.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

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givemea-dam-break · 11 months

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a/n: requested by @mischivana " can you please do 2, 6, 8, 10, 12, or 48 either jason or connor. or 24 or 44 (or both) with jason. can you make them x mortal reader cause there really isn't enough mortal reader stuff around and I've been craving it, thank you!!!! " i've done this for jason since i haven't written much for him, so i hope you enjoy! my past two things for him have been very sad, so this is a bit happier lol

warnings: minor injury detail prompts: "Don't worry; it hurts a little less each time." and "I love you and it terrifies me." gn reader

What Are You So Afraid Of? - Jason Grace

Midnight. There's a crash downstairs.

You jolt up in your bed, heart pounding. It's silent for a moment, and you start to think that you might just be hearing things, but then there's another. Louder, closer. Heavy. With your heart racing, you grab the nearest thing you could use as a weapon - a stuffed teddy, for heaven's sake - and stand on tired legs.

There's a bang on your door, and you jump. You should call the police, but your bones feel locked with terror. You can't bring yourself to reach for your phone. This is perhaps the worst time for your parents to be away.

Another bang, and a rattle of your door handle, and the intruder stumbles in. All at once, they fall into your wardrobe with a series of curses and shouts, and you launch the teddy bear at them. It gets the expected result, simply bouncing off the intruder's header, and it's then that you notice who it is.

"Jason?"

"Yours truly," the intruder groans.

"What -?"

He makes a gasping sound as he steps forward, and you can only see his shadowed form as it stumbles. Immediately, you rush over, catching him under the arms and dragging him over to your bed, laying him over top of your dishevelled covers.

"Watch your eyes," you say before flicking your bedside lamp on.

He curses again when the light switches on, covering his eyes with a bruised and bleeding arm. Already, there's blood on your bed sheets.

"What happened?" you demand.

Jason shifts slightly, getting as comfortable as he can as you check him over for other injuries. Besides his arm and a gash on his leg, he's seemingly all right, but the amount of blood is making you nervous.

"On a quest."

"Yeah, I guessed. But what happened? Haven't you taken some ambrosia?"

His arm moves now, and his eyes slowly adjust to the dim light of your room. Though bloodshot, they still gleam a gorgeous glittering blue that has you almost transfixed. You catch yourself before you get distracted, rifling around in your nightstand for the little first aid kit you keep in there for situations like this.

"Ran out," he says quietly. "You've still got some here, right? I think I left some last time."

You pull it out just as he asks, wordlessly passing him a chunk of the godly food. It's sat in your drawer for a few weeks now - somehow it hasn't gone off - and you're glad that you forgot about it. As a demigod, the ambrosia helps Jason heal, but if you, a mortal, were to eat it, you'd likely combust into flames and die. If it always smells as good as it does now, you're eternally grateful for your bad memory. You probably would've been a pile of burnt ashes had you remembered.

"Fighting some monsters at North Beach, but they got some good hits in." He looks over at you then, noting the horrified expression on your face at how easily he speaks about being almost killed. "Don't worry; it hurts a little less each time."

"That's supposed to make me feel better? Jason! You're bleeding everywhere!"

He waves his hand nonchalantly and plasters on a smile, but you notice the way the pain he's in makes the scar on his lip twitch. "I'm all right, (name). Promise. just needed some ambrosia. I'll be healed up in no time."

You watch carefully as the blood slowly stops flowing, and the skin gradually mends itself back together. Begrudgingly, you shove the first aid kit back into your nightstand.

"I can't stay long," Jason says, closing his eyes for a moment. "I can't put -"

"Me in danger, yes I know. Son of Jupiter and everything." Kneeling beside the bed, you resist the urge to take his hand in yours and squeeze it, more for your own comfort than his. "You can't just walk back to your camp from here in the middle of the night. It's too dangerous. You always say monsters are more dangerous at night."

"I'll be fine."

"Jason."

His eyes open again, locking onto yours. Fifteen years old, and already those eyes hold more than they should have. You've seen your fair share of things in that same amount of time, but you can't even begin to think what life as a demigod could entail. What it could do to a person. Already, they hold more memories and horrors than they really should.

"I can't risk your life, (name)," he insists.

"You and your saviour complex! You're staying here tonight. You can head back in the morning when I can call you a taxi."

"You could call me one now."

"Absolutely not."

"(name) -"

"I won't hear any more about it," you say.

You grab the spare blanket you keep in your wardrobe, wrap it around your shoulders, and pull the duvet on your bed over Jason until it reaches his chin. He could easily move and hinder the process, but he stays still. You've got a feeling that he doesn't mind being taken care of sometimes. Not when he's usually the one taking care of others.

"Get some sleep," you tell him, sitting on top of a pillow beside the bed. "You have to be exhausted."

He shakes his head and rolls onto his side so he can face you. "I want to make sure you're all right."

"I'm not the one that was attacked tonight."

"That could change."

You give him a look. "Jason, I've been fine every other time you've come here. What are you so afraid of? In all the time we've known each other, no monsters have shown up at my door."

He goes quiet then, and you worry that you've pushed too hard. Jason may be in charge of the camp he stays at, but you know how hard it all is for him, what with being the son of the king of the gods. He's lonely, and you're well aware that his coming to see you, whether it be after a quest or just on a whim, allows him to escape that life. But always with the monsters, the warnings. He's never stayed more than an hour, afraid he'll get you killed, but you want more than that. You need more than that. You don't want to spend the rest of your life waiting for him to appear, just for him to leave so soon.

"I'm sorry," you murmur. "I just -"

"I love you," he interrupts, "and it terrifies me."

The rest of your sentence gets stuck in your throat, and for a moment you can't breathe.

He looks away, the lamplight reflecting in the bright blue of his eyes. "I've loved you for months. Ever since we met, really, when you accidentally saved me from a bunch of monsters following me in the Legion of Honor and told me that I needed to brush my teeth if I was going to get so close to you. But I'm - I'm scared of losing you."

Your hands are shaking a little. "You're not going to lose me."

"I don't want to risk that," he says. "I don't remember my family - my mom and sister. I've known nothing but being a demigod all my life. But you help me forget about it all and pretend that I'm a normal kid for a little while. I don't want to lose that or you. But me being here puts you in danger."

"Jason..."

"You don't need to feel the same." He still won't look at you. "I just needed you to know."

"Will you look at me?"

He struggles with himself for a moment, but eventually, he turns his head, fixing his gaze on yours. With a shaky hand, you find his beneath your duvet cover and squeeze gently, offering the best smile you can manage.

"I do feel the same," you say. "And, I've been safe all this time. I'll stay that way regardless if you stay a few more hours, okay?"

He doesn't look entirely convinced, but still, he nods and says, "Okay. But just this once."

"Like hell it'll be just this once."

A soft laugh escapes his lips. "I'll keep you safe."

"Of course, you will, Jase."

Even still, it takes barely ten minutes for him to doze off peacefully, smiling so softly that it makes your heart feel warm. You don't let go of his hand, ensuring that even in sleep he knows you're still there. And you press a soft kiss to his forehead as you switch your lamp off, praying that this wasn't all a dream or some figment of your imagination.

I love you. The words still echo in your mind, even as you eventually fall asleep, head fallen on the pillow his own rests on.

I love you.

#jason grace x reader #hoo jason x reader #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus fanfiction #heroes of olympus #hoo fanfiction #jason grace fanfiction #jason grace #x reader #fanfiction #givema-dam-break

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ryaiga · 1 year

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The One God Forbade

Chapter 1

Pairing - Captain Price X GN!Reader X Lieutenant Riley

MDNI 18+ PLEASE.

WORD COUNT: 6.3K

Summary: You survived an interrogation but don't remember anything except the pain you endured and Captain Price saving you. Once you recovered, you were left with more questions with seemingly no answer.

AUTHOR’S NOTE AT THE END!

WARNINGS/CWS/TWS: GRAPHIC SCENES(DETAILED GORE, there will be a warning and a spacer just for it so you can skip), Military terms that might be wrong, Drinking, Childhood trauma, mention of abuse, death and mentions of death, talks of scars, implied rape.

Spacers/Headers by: @mmadeinheavenn , @imlevis , @animatedglittergraphics-n-more , @wanwanparty

{(N/n) = nickname}

It was a surprise Kortac didn't sign you from the get go. You knew of a couple of their members, König and Horangi specifically, only by mere whispers. You were the new recruit on base. Anyone and everyone would kill to have your spot, a vacancy was opened and granted to you to join Task force 141. Nobody saw it coming, you'd always thought it was the best soldier from your squad who'd be nominated, but everyone including you was blindsided by the choice.

You were home, on leave for only a week after a grueling mission your platoon had to complete and after recovery. Intel was needed and special ops teams Alpha, Delta and ,your squad, Echo were tasked to gather it, eliminate all threats if faced and by any means get said intel. Other squads joked (some meant what they said) that you didn't belong in the army, but rather a mercenary group like Kortac. The lengths you'd take to accomplish a mission gave you that title. It was a switch, something even you can't control. What lays in your wake is the multiple sights of mangled and bloodied corpses, those whose faces were intact belonged to people you have never come across once in your life.

That mission made your attempts to sleep futile, it haunts you every night when you rest your head. You were separated from your team, trying to exfil but ended up amidst an ambush. Everyone knew how skilled a soldier you were, but never had taken you for the type to sacrifice yourself for the means of your fellow squadmates' safety. You'd make headway to a couple of your injured comrades, shooting at enemies who’d even think of taking a step forward. Dragging them back to the safety of the group, you’d left them to get first aid, hell you even threw your back up kit on top of one of the injured before running to the last man. The few before him received shots to their limbs, nothing that would render them dead, but the last man had more than just a shot.

Rodney was Echo team’s Field Team Leader(FTL) and had been by your side pulling the injured and returning fire on the enemies. That was when a stray IED happened to go off, you swore that a pebble triggered it but you didn't have the time to think about it. Luckily for the both of you, it wasn’t close to do deadly damage but it was enough for the building in front of you to shake and a piece of rubble had fallen onto Rodney’s leg as he was trying to get up after the explosion. You had been scraped by flyaway shrapnels but one happened to embed itself into your thigh, right above your knee. Seeing that he had it worse, you made it a priority to get that injured comrade out of the way first so you can focus on Rodney after. You’d almost — or hell quite literally — thrown the man to safety and dashed for Rodney, using the momentum, you attempted to kick the rubble off and thankfully it did. Placing a tourniquet on Rodney’s leg so he didn't bleed out.

You'd only manage to drag him halfway to the group, before a crazed hostile came charging at you with a knife. Stupid as it was to bring a knife to a gunfight in a literal sense, you reached for your pistol and raised it to shoot the hostile, hearing a click instead of a shot going off. An empty mag, you chuckled. Shouting for Rodney to crawl the rest of the way and yell for someone, you holstered the pistol to exchange for your trusty karambit. You've been in hand to hand combat for training but for some reason this was different. You found yourself on the ground quicker than ever, despite being top in your batch.

The man stood over you with a sinister look, with a grin stretching from ear to ear. “Another American added to my collection, I won’t kill you so soon. Not yet at least, we still need to know how you found this place. And dear little soldier, oh how much fun I’ll have torturing you and keeping you barely breathing.” He proceeded to plunge the knife into your side, somehow missing everything vital but you convinced yourself that it would be blood loss that kills you at this point. You’d rather die quiet than betray the military. Blacking out due to the shock, the last thing you heard Rodney yelling for the rest to fire at the man and not just stand there with their dicks in their hands. At last it was too late, the team had to exfil but not without calling it in and letting the team who was aiding us with the mission about the situation at hand. A rescue mission for a fellow soldier.

Neither you nor your team knew that the intel was for Task Force 141’s next deployment, you were the bait Laswell had deployed. It was to ensure that the ring leader didn’t take the situation seriously, a random military team out on patrol happened to stumble upon a measly little operational base they had out in the sandy town, a perfect bait. Bringing back the intel to the team at base, Laswell gave Price the details of your rescue, unbeknownst to you of course.

TORTURE SCENE AHEAD, AVOID IF YOU AREN’T COMFORTABLE WITH SUCH

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

You woke up to the sharp and pulsating pain in your side, vision blurred and arms shackled to a metal table, you remembered what happened. You braced yourself for the worse, nothing like good old torture. The next 8 hours felt like hell, from waterboarding, branding you with a metal rod that was heated to the point of it glowing bright orange, to nails being pulled starting from your toes then to your hands, you endured every second of torture being thrown at you. Sure it was horrible, but you kept your mouth shut by any means possible. Every time a nail was pulled ever so agonizingly slowly, you bit your lips to the point that blood dripped down your chin and that the pain was now numbed, you no longer felt it. You closed your eyes, counting every second.

1, 2, 3, 4- “How did you find this compound?” 9, 10. 30600. 1, 2, 3- “I know you can hear me!” 7, 8, 9, 10. 30610- Another slow pull of a nail, this time it was your right pinky toe, no nails on the right foot 8 hours, 35 minutes, 20 seconds into being kidnapped. Yeah they took a whole 5 minutes to torture your pinky toe for information.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5- the door to the room opens again, a different man enters. This time with a trolley with surgical tools. You could see a scalpel, clamps, retractors, suction, staples and energy systems, you could tell this man enjoys the torment he inflicts. With the orchestra of surgical tools laid out in front of him, he was the conductor who was gonna lead your screams into a melodious conforment of the perfect harmony, a symphony to his ears. 45950.

1, 2, 3, 4, you felt him cut open the top of your hand, using the clamps on the nerves and playing with them, all without anesthetics, you growled as your face contorted to the pain. Cauterizing the incision, “You know, I had enough sessions like this, I could get a medical license just from how talented and skill I am with my tools.” Deranged as he sounds, you kept counting. 50400. It is now 50401. You had enough when you felt him grab your belt buckle. That’s where it happened. You blacked out. The last that you remembered.

Back at base, Laswell called for the last mission briefing after Price gathered the boys and informed them of what was going on. After which Price and the few members of Task force 141 geared up. He led them onto the helo and they flew out to the sandy plains you were left at. 3 hours after the incident was called in.

Laswell had informed him of the prestigious yet silent soldier that was being considered for his team. He’d lost a recruit in an earlier deployment, one he took to heart. Like many from the past, another scar added, that lay permanent by his chest and the haunting that left him shaking and restless at night, another one failed by his very leadership. Making even the unshakeable captain wake in cold sweats and trembling and to his vices in the attempts to be grounded to earth once more. So to hear that he was getting a new member that was as or more skilled than the one before, meant that the military was willing to sacrifice yet another valuable asset if it meant that his team was complete from every angle. A well trained sniper, hardy in hand to hand, a versatile team player yet nothing more than your skills were known. Similar to his lieutenant, you were an enigma. Not even a drop of ink was placed about your past and how you came about the military. Your file had a picture, a battle hardened soldier who completed every mission with ease and precision of high caliber, but no other name besides (N/N). You hadn’t been rewarded with a callsign, no one knew enough about you to even give a title to your talents, unlike Soap or Ghost. Price read up on your previous missions, but to his disappointment (or amazement), every debrief on the details stated that no one saw how you executed. It was always done and over with by the time the rest came to you, and it happens within mere seconds. A regal display of crimson red, a mural of your skill assets that leaves even your FTLs in fear of ever being your enemy. However, No one was ready for what was to come. For you’d gain a title like no other, a prestige as high as the greatest artist known to man, the difference being that it came not from art. But from your ungodly fits to kill and survive, a display left out to strike fear in any person who wronged you.

Price and his team sat in the helo, adrenaline slowly creeping along their nerves as they awaited for the pilot's call to jump. “Hope we get there in time, wouldn't be good if we found ‘em KIA. Laswell seemed rather fond of the enigma.” Ghost briefly spoke, an utter breath that Price barely caught. Nodding in response, Price wanted to see what you were. How you handled the predicament you were in, knowing full well if it was one of his men, that they wouldn’t even think of breaking. Could he blame you? Not even your platoon had knowledge that you were against a group of skilled mercenaries guising as cartels selling American weapons on middle eastern soil. He’d seen what they’ve done to the soldiers before you, they never made it home and if they did, it was a closed casket ceremony.

Needless to say you were in desperate need of saving if you even want to think of coming out alive. Ghost reminds the rest that they aren’t to hope too highly of your chances, another tag and body bag might be amongst them on their return. A slim chance that you’d even be crawling out that hellscape. It was a bad omen that Price hated, he didn’t like the thought of a rescue being a failed attempt before it even began. Before he could even try to save the person. The helo landed miles away from the building, too many for the team’s liking. It meant time was wasted traversing the dunes, and time was not on their side.

They managed to reach the building on the 14th hour, Gaz situated at a high vantage point and taking out any guard that would alert the others and prevent the team’s entry while Price and the other two got closer. Price split the teams, Gaz with him and Soap with Ghost. Ghost and Soap would make the initial breach, having that Soap was their demolitions expert. Gaz made his way to the other side of the building with Price to flank and surprise any enemies with the possible off chance of stumbling into you during the sweep. Over the comms, he gave the signal. A blast shook the building, he’d hear a handful of footsteps rush towards the other two, giving it a second before kicking the shitty metal door open. Entering the 4 story building, they cleared the first floor with ease before coming across a walkie talkie on one of the now dead tangos. “Goddamn it! Kill whoever that was, we need to handle-” the person on the other end was cut off and without a second for Price to ponder what the situation was, more enemies came barrelling down the steps, managing to count 6 as they entered a room for cover before a gunfight ensued. Soap deployed a 9 banger - a flashbang that would go off 9 times back to back - a headbanger experience for the poor dead men walking. Using that as a distraction Gaz took out 3 enemies before Ghost and Price eliminated the remaining few.

Ghost and Soap rushed to the second floor while he and Gaz went to the third. ‘Faster’ echoed in the back of Price’s mind. The team only managed to clear 3 rooms when a gut wrenching cry and a shot going off not long after was heard. It came from the fourth floor, He waited for the two below them and got into formation. Leading his men into the unknown, they hurried up the flight of stairs. Looking down the dimly lit and putrid corridor stood 4 rooms, only one of which was closed, something wet leaked from its crack but the lighting made it hard to distinguish what it was. After clearing other rooms of hostiles, Price had Gaz stand guard by the stairs, Soap covering his and Ghost’s six. His clothed hand slowly reached the grimy steel knob, twisting and pushing it open to find that it was locked from the inside. You had to be there, surely. He tapped Soap and motioned for him to breach with a thermite. Bracing for the explosion, the thermite goes off rattling who stood by the door no doubt, using the initial explosion as a distraction, Price enters.

He’d heard of soldiers crawling away from death’s grip, but nothing he’d seen or heard would have prepared him for what he had just walked into. Before Ghost could turn to clear and call out on the comms, Price stopped him and the other two from entering. A war torn soldier wasn’t an unusual sight but the horrors he’d just laid his desensitized eyes on was enough to remind him of what he once feared back when he was a young recruit in the SAS. A trolley with surgical tools and a lone pistol stood at arms reach of a small figure wearing a familiar uniform, hands busy with what he could only assume was the soldier’s face, chains jingling as they continued with what they were doing all whilst embracing the sun’s warm grace. That wasn’t what shook him, a metal table typically used to interrogate people stood to the right of the room. The chains that held you down were broken, the spot where the chains were welded to the center of the table had an upwards dent - you ripped the chains off the table with sheer force.

A man in surgical garments sprawled on the table, innards now turned out for all to see. A spectacle made out of human intestine, organs pinned outside the man’s body by multiple scalpels that went through the metal and blood viciously splattered around his corpse. Price wished he could say that was it but the gruesome art went beyond just insides turned out. The man’s entire nervous system was intricately laid out around his organs, decorating the entire table in a mix of thin blue threads barely visible amongst the puddle of red. The nerves still connected together in a web, not severed in any section, the extreme precision to carry such a brutal butchering left Price speechless. The scene was as if it paid homage to the Blair Witch Project, or worse a page from a sacrificial ritual. Price could only hope that the man was dead when all of this was carried out.

Another, laid on the floor not too far between the man on the table and inches away from the door. A pistol in his mouth, brain matter laid out on the ground, his face frozen with a plea for mercy. That was what he was standing in, and what had seeped out the door crack. Yet another lay in front the soldier Price was facing, neck snapped and his dead body laid to rest sitting up right by the wall in front of the aforementioned soldier, a metal rod shoved into his mouth and the sharp end had protruded out his torso. Price took another step forward before he heard a whimper to the left most corner of the room, their target - the head honcho of the operation - sat bare and huddled. His clothes on the ground at arms reach yet the man was too afraid to take a step forward. As though he would meet the same fate as his men if he took even a breath of air.

“(N/n)? It’s Captain Price, Laswell sent Task Force 141 to rescue you.” Price spoke softly, not wanting to surprise you, unsure of the current mental state you were in. Especially after what was laid around you and the torture you went through. “Are you injured?-” You didn’t answer, instead opting to slowly turn. Price made the right call, the state you were in was dire. “Ghost, call for exfil ASAP, (N/n) is alive but in serious condition.” Price called out to his right hand man with urgency and a slight tremble in his voice.

Your eyes. He’d thought that when he first met Ghost, that his eyes were the epitome of cold and soulless. But somehow yours went beyond that, for a lack of better words. A frigid cold looms behind those dull and matte black pupils, reminding of the cold he once faced during a deployment in Russia during a winter’s snow storm, striking his very core cold. Bangs sticking to your bloodied face by sweat and grime from the hours of torture you endured. A chunk of your skin hanged off your face, a knife cut and what looks like one of the man’s attempts to rip the skin out and off your face. It started right above your eyebrow traveling down to your lips. He was hopeful that it was repairable, it wasn’t a wide injury, barely missing your eyes and narrows down where it ended in the middle of your upper lip, still connecting at both ends to your face by what looked like a thin fishing line. You were stitching your skin back to your face. Your hand had a butchered attempt to stitch a wound close with one hand, nail beds down to your knuckles had trails of dried up blood. Uniform stained a dark red, mixture of your injured comrades blood from the fight and yours, the side of your torso had a big patch of blood. Sleeves rolled up, bright red burn marks running down your entire forearm, the man before you had branded you with the very metal rod that was now embedded in him. On your other arm were 12 lines stitched into your skin, 8 weren’t freshly stitched in, leaving Price confused and curious as to what it was.

END OF TORTURE SCENE

Price could see the soldier mouthing something softly. His ears strained to hear the soft word, or numbers when he realizes that you were counting out by tens and adding to a bigger number before repeating. The hours you were torture. He slowly approaches you, calling out to you. It took a solid minute for you to realize what was going on. Signs of a soul return to your eyes, glossing over as soon as you hear your name. Arms slowly raised to surrender and it starts to tremble when before they were as still as though belonging to the world’s best brain surgeon. Tears drip down your cheeks, face still emotionless. You were dazed. The sound of the chopper’s propeller came to earshot, fresh sunshine scalding your back through the glassless window.

Gaz calls out to Price, “They’re here! Let’s go!” Price immediately takes off his shemagh and drapes it over your head, covering your face before standing to your left. He gave you a shot of morphine he had on hand to help with the pain. Grabbing your left arm, wrapping it over his shoulders, bending both of you and carried you bridal style as you were in no condition to walk - your toenails gone from the torture and the piece of shrapnel still in your thigh, he could only imagine the pain you were going through. He carried you out the room, ordering his team to escort the two of you to the safety of the chopper. Before he could descend the stairs, you spoke softly. “My karambit. Find it, I can’t lose it. I won’t leave without it.” The team shoots Price a confused look before turning to each other. “What are you waiting for? You heard the soldier. Quickly find it.” Price commands, he feels your breath starting to get labored, he hurries the guys and tells Gaz to follow him out.

The medics on board administered emergency first aid, shooting you with a dose of adrenaline to make sure you stay awake during the flight. They had laid you down on a stretcher. Not long after you, Price and Gaz enter the chopper, Ghost and Soap follow suit with your karambit in hand. Soap walks to your side, kneeling before he places your Karambit safely onto your chest and grabs your left hand to be placed on top of the knife. “Rest easy now (N/n), you and your karambit are safe.” Soap shot you a comforting smile as he spoke with a tone to reassure you.

Beeping. You hear the sound of a heart monitor beeping to the same rhythm as your heartbeat, however it was muffled. Eyes fluttering open, squinting due the harsh and glaring light that was directly over you. Consciousness returns to your still body. A body that didn’t feel like yours, sore all over and strapped down to the bed, limiting your movement. Your vision blurred, you attempted to analyze the room. Aside from the continuous beeping of the heart monitor, the fluorescent lights that had basically served as a flashbang buzzed like white noise. Reminding you of the time when you were living in that shitty college dormitory, but there wasn’t that stale air that was permeated by the pungent scent of body odor from athletes who freely roamed the halls. Instead, it was the smell of disinfectant that was greatly welcomed. The A/C hummed quietly, you soon realized it was a hospital or medical bay that you were in.

Something was off. How did you get from that dry and sweltering room that was stained with the smell of mold and bodily fluids to this clean environment. You scrapped at your foggy memory, who came? Was it the military who came to your rescue or did the fuckers who tortured you, who sold you off as a token and bargaining chip to a client? Panic creeps up your leg, feeling it coursing through your veins. You quietly looked for a way to get out of your restraints, not wanting anyone to hear you scheming away.

Your eyes spotted a paperclip that was left right on top of your cover, probably dropped from a clipboard. You started to shimmy under the tiny metal paperclip, it inches to your reach and soon you popped it into your mouth to bend it in a way that allowed you to lockpick the 4 locks that held your restraints against the bed. You hurried, taking off the restraints that were on your hands and started to work on your foot.

You only managed to free one foot when you heard someone walk into the section of the medical bay that housed you. Your heart starts beating aggressively quick, the sensation made it as though your heart was in your throat and actively trying to suffocate you. Before you were able to formulate a plan, someone was sliding the thin curtain aside. "They should be out cold, that wasn't an average dose of sedative Capt. Had to get Alex to hold 'em down with me and he just got back too." Scottish man but he wasn't alone, you glared at the curtain to gauge how big the Scot was. Standing at 6'2(1.88m), nothing you haven't encountered, a build fit for a soldier. You weren't gonna take your chances though.

You leaned to grab the flower vase that stood tall on the bedside table, readying your other hand with the paper clip to fling it at the man as hard as possible once you distracted him. The curtain pulls back and sure enough he was distracted talking to the other person accompanying him. You threw the pot straight at the Scottish man's face, catching him by surprise and stumbling onto the ground with his hand on his nose. The pot didn't break, if you weren't trying to escape and it was safe, you'd be laughing in the back of your mind. Immediately turning your attention to the other man who merely looked at his buddy on the ground groaning in pain. You took that as a free opportunity to get the man. You flicked the paperclip hoping to at least get it embedded into the side of his neck.

However, to your horror, he leaned back just in time to dodge the clip. It pierced the concrete wall next behind him. Before you were able to do anything, he turned to you and pinned you down against the bed. Your wrists in his hands and above your head, you tried to pull away but to no avail. You started to buck your body against his, trying to get him off. This only causes him to yell at his comrade, who's whining and rolling on the ground in pain. "Soap if you don't get up and help me pin their legs or hell, even get the doc, so help me I will ensure the lavys are nice and grody just for you to clean till next month." The man that you almost stabbed in the jugular with a goddamn paperclip has his body on your torso, just so you’d stop struggling, had an annoyed look similar to a dad reprimanding his son for breaking a glass and not bothering to help.

“It’s Captain Price- Calm down Echo 2, we aren’t going to hurt you. You're back at base and safe.” Captain Price? Price? You heard of his name. Rodney had mentioned that name before, something about a transfer. You stopped fighting back, as he mentioned you’re safe now and realized you nearly killed a higher up, you apologized. He slowly got up, wary that you’d try to pull something. Especially after that stunt. “You had woken up several times the past few days, manic on several occasions. We had Soap watch over you in case you woke up and chose to attack the Doc.”

“Permission to speak. How long was I out? And are my platoon mates safe?” You asked after Price gave you a nod. “A week, your body was weak from blood loss. The doctors helping you had stabilized you. Removing the shrapnel in your thigh, stitching the remaining skin that you hadn’t stitched back onto your face, treating your stab wound and the burn you had from the branding. Your platoon was brought back safely thanks to you Sergeant (N/n).” It came back to you. The ambush during exfil, dragging injured man back, Rodney, the counting, the questions, and you don't remember much after that. Funny how it all went down within 24 hours.

The doctor came in with a Soap who wasn’t too happy to open the curtain. Doc ran a couple of tests to make sure you were clear for rehab. Your recovery was a speedy one and rehab was smooth sailing. The platoon came to visit you, those you saved came to show their gratitude. Some silently cried as you laid in the comforts of your hospital bed. You were still trying to register what happened, how you got 3 more stitches on your left arm. You had 8 on your arm from your past, marking those who wronged you.

One belongs to your deadbeat dad who abused you and your mother when you were younger, he died mysteriously. All you recalled was the newscaster covering his death as a brutal and grotesque murder that the nation had witnessed in years. Your mother knew what happened but she never disclosed that information, not to the cops and especially not you. You had stitched a blood red thread into your arm.

Another was a friend who left you to die after a crash that nearly rendered you paralyzed, you remember crawling with only your arms trying to get help.

Six belonged to each member of a jock clique who trapped you in the college’s equipment shed and took turns abusing you in too many ways yet you didn’t remember how. All you could remember was limping away in your tattered clothes covered in bright purple bruises that covered your body and a permanent red line that went around your neck.

The last one belongs to a guy who was close to one of the jocks, he somehow had entered your dorm room and attacked you after coming home from a long study session in the library. A scar ran from the back of your right bicep down to its shoulder blade. What amazed you was that you never remember what happened after those traumatic moments. All you knew were they’d end up dead one way or another.

You ran your hand over the stitches, something about it is soothing to you. Last thing you remember was seeing Captain Price walking up to you, and the mangled bodies scattered around you. Before you could get lost in your thoughts, Rodney came to visit. “(N/n)? How you holding up?” He pushes the curtain aside with his crutch and sits on the chair sat beside your bed. “As good as I can get Echo 1. How’s the leg?” The two of you made small talk, he told you that the rubble had broken his leg and that the medical team had to place a metal rod in there to treat the issue. He also mentioned something about gifts being dropped off and placed in your cage. Shocking considering you weren’t close to the team, “You know, if it weren’t for the bandages covering your face, I wouldn't know what you’re thinking. But your eyes speak volumes, it was thanks to you that we got to come home safely. At the expense of your own safety. I don’t think any of us could show just how grateful we are and could never repay you for it.” you didn’t say much, purely unsure what needs to be said. You simply reached for his shoulder, resting your hand on it. “Rodney, it's my job as much as yours to keep the rest safe. The least I could've done.” Rodney looked up at you with great admiration.

“I came here to let you know something. All I can say is that I left a good word in for you.” You were confused by what he just said and was about to ask what he meant by ‘left a good word in’ when he got up. “The platoon is waiting for you to fully recover, they want to head to the bar. I know what you’re about to say, ‘It's fine FTL, I’ll sit it out’. Not this time Echo 2, we’ll be celebrating your return before we get some down time.”

About 2 weeks after the incident with Captain Price and Sergeant Soap, you were given the all clear to head back to cages. The stab wound was still limiting your range of movement but at least you weren’t bound to the hospital bed or the confines of the rehab room. Being able to wear your uniform felt good, however you had to stop by the base’s surplus store to buy more balaclavas considering the huge scar on your face. You weren’t one who loved being stared at or given attention for no reason. When you walked in the surplus store, the lady working the cashier stared at you the entire time. You didn't hesitate to grab a couple pairs of gloves while you're at it. You immediately wore one of the all black balaclavas, walking out with a new cap as well, it didn't hurt to add a cap to your wardrobe, especially since you didn't want to look like a clothed bald. You chuckled at the thought, now you don't have to worry about your hair not meeting the requirements, you could even grow it out if you wanted.

You made your way to the cages, finding the aforementioned gifts on yours. The platoon had gotten you new clothes like multiple thin long sleeves to wear under your t-shirts or uniforms, balaclavas, a bunch of hats. A lot of gifts for a second in command that hadn’t bonded with the team much despite being with them for years now. What caught your eyes was a trophy, you picked it up. It reads ‘Best 2IC of the year’. You felt eyes staring holes into your back, “You guys know that you can’t sneak up on me right?” you turned to see the platoon hiding by the doorway, they came charging in. They picked you up and started to toss you up into the air, clearly happy that you were back. They never once seemed to like you until now, you can’t deny it, it felt good to feel appreciated. But you’d never show it.

They let you shower and change out to something more comfortable. You had chosen to wear some cargo pants, one of the thin long sleeves under a windbreaker you owned, not forgetting the balaclava and cap you bought. Once you changed, they carried you out to one of the trucks Rodney drove and hopped in after you. The drive to the bar was chaotic, the boys were singing alongside the handful of ladies who braved war alongside you. Music blasting through the truck, you could barely hear your own thoughts. The truck halts to a stop, now at the infamous bar that every soldier from base would frequent, The Old West. They were known for their top shelf bourbon and scotch. The guys dragged you in, the bar had an oaky scent that was somehow comforting. You and the platoon had taken up the biggest table and since the bar offered food, you ordered some mozzarella sticks to share with them. After sitting and chatting with the platoon, Rodney bought everyone a beer to celebrate. A cheer was called for and it being a weekend, the bar soon became loud with everyone joining in to cheer you guys.

After a while, you needed a moment to yourself. You had made your way to the bar, sat on one of the bar stools and had ordered a shot of vodka and a glass of whiskey. You didn't realize it but you were shaking, you weren’t used to being in a ‘huge’ crowd. Thankfully you had sat at the end of the bar and somewhat away from the noise. That's when you spotted Captain Price. He was talking to the bartender and hadn’t noticed you, how could he especially with how you looked now. And you’d like for it to be that way, still feeling bad for nearly killing him. You down the vodka with ease, nothing you weren’t used to considering how it was one of your many vices that helped you forget about the atrocities that you had committed over the years. You pulled your phone out to scroll the news, blankly reading it and enjoyed the whiskey.

“Care for another soldier?” Somehow you didn’t see the captain saunter his way next to you. The bartender had placed 2 drinks in front of you, that was the talk that he had with the bartender. Not wanting to be rude, you humbly accepted the drink. “At ease soldier, I'm here to enjoy a drink just like everyone else.” He turns to you and shoots you a smile. You simply nod. It stayed that way for the remainder of the night, with the occasion of either of you calling the bartender over for a refill. It wasn't as uncomfortable or awkward as you thought it would be.

Rodney spots the two of you and comes to say hi, “Captain, sergeant. Hope y’alls enjoy yourselves as much as the rest of the bar.” he chuckles, arm around your shoulder and beer in his other hand. “Hope this one right here will do you good captain, it’ll be sad to see ‘em leave. But it's for a better cause. Anyways, (N/n) the rest wants to leave in a bit, thought to let you know!” Rodney walks back to the rest, albeit a little wobbly than you’d like. You turned to ask Price what Rodney was on about but he was already up and had paid. ”Drinks on my soldier, see you the next time we meet.”

So many questions, yet nobody answers them.

A/N: Raiga here! This is the first chapter of the TOGF series, heads up that this will predominantly focus on your rs with Price, I might change the way this is heading as I do have a couple ideas on how to carry this story. I want to preface that the dynamic is not going to be too romantic. All this while writing my first GN! oh so many first! so do give feedback as it is greatly appreciated. If you’d like to be a beta reader, shoot me a message as it would help with releasing each chapter faster.

The first chapter was mainly to give you an idea of the ‘mc’s’ behavior. Sorry if it’s much, most of it is based on my experiences. So if you happen to dislike it, I wouldn’t fault you. But I do hope you are able to enjoy the story! I’m also trying to avoid having the boys be OOC too much, I want it to feel more authentic as it can get if you were to fall in love with your captain despite it being forbidden.

Till then, that’s all from me! Raiga out.

IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST, LEAVE A REPLY!

Taglist;

@thychuvaluswife @tiny-kasper

#cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #captain price #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain price x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #lieutenant simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader

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tadfools · 7 months

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I've decided to add art headers for each chapter of The One That Got a Thay: A Semichronological Guide on Breaking Free of Your Dread Father and Removing Illithid Parasites (wow that's a mouthful) which you can read here

I've put the first chapter under the cut if anyone wants to read it also! Thank you guys for almost 2,000 hit on my little love story so far! (its 3k words before you tap that read more)

She could hear the fire crackling behind her. Popping every so often with the remnants of the boar’s fat which had dripped within the pit several hours prior. It was a good find and, with Gale’s little freezing trick, would keep the group fed for at least another few days.

Tavaris hesitated to grab the animal’s carcass and take it back to the camp when it was found, but Wyll and Karlach insisted. The placement was too perfect – the kill too clean. As if the beast was meant to be discovered. Beyond that, Astarion had attempted to pull her attention from it in a way that opposed what she decided was his normal behavior. While they had only known each other for a handful of days, his need to draw her focus from the boar struck her as odd.

Had Wyll not rolled it over with the heel of his boot, the two thin trails of blood clumping the fur of its neck would have gone unnoticed. And, had Tavaris not been slightly turned to the side, the motion of Astarion’s eyes darting away would have gone the same.

A problem for later she supposed. Everyone in the group was entitled to their own secrets. Astarion was no exception.

Their system for the night’s watch had gone well so far. With two of them being of the elven variety, it meant that watch could be split up between just the two of them while the others slept soundly for eight hours. Though Lae’zel was prone to ‘scanning the perimeter’ before settling down, similar to a disgruntled housecat. Tavaris was meant to sleep first; with another three hours still to pass before her pale companion would end her meditation - if it didn’t come naturally to a close. Perhaps she would bring it up when they switched roles.

She had pulled herself away from the group, stating that the sound of the river’s water aided her rest. Her back was now to the fire while the others slept soundly around its diminishing warmth. It wasn't necessarily a lie; the water’s babbling did help. Though not with any pathetic attempt at mediation. It was a distraction.

The gnolls that had ravaged that caravan… the blood of those accompanying it. All of it spilt poorly, with the same care a child would afford to throwing paint during a tantrum. It was disgusting.

Where was the artistry, where was the craft? The suffering of every human slaughtered there was ended far too quickly. The animals lunged for throats first. Pathetic. Were it so that she led the massacre, the suffering would have gone on for hours. The screams would have been savored with an expert’s care-

She snapped her eyes open, now faced with hands clenched into fist that sat in her lap, the deep purple of Tavaris’ skin was pulled taught around her knuckles as she flexed them. The thoughts weren’t getting any easier to push away. Her mind never stilled, near relentless in the horrors that would accost it at any given moment. The most mundane of activities, it seemed, were tinged with depravity. Something as simple as cutting carrots for the stew which made the group’s dinner was twisted within brief flashes of each chop being a finger’s knuckle. The owner of the appendage howling in a pain which she reveled in.

While she peeled the onions, Tavaris could almost imagine it being the same as prying back the skin of a face. An agonizingly simple motion, a quick pull of the ear and one could achieve a clean removal to the other side.

It was almost enough to drown out the prattling of her fellow wizard, who in the few days since they met, decided he was to be the group’s resident cook. There was a twinge in the back of her mind when she thought that. Not the mutilation of a man meant to be her friend, but in the idea that he could be considered an equal to her in any regard.

The magic that Gale played with wasn’t worth killing. It was meant for show - to impress others that were better suited to die. Where Gale made a presentation of a flick of the wrist and bright colorful displays of sparks, she wielded pure, concentrated death in her hands… it wouldn’t have been that hard to rot the wizard’s flesh. Honestly, she should’ve cut his hand off when she had the chance.

None of that was within a line of thinking Tavaris wanted to be anywhere near. She wanted to listen Gale’s stories of Waterdeep and learn how he casted spells like an art show.

It was easier to raise a corpse and have it an answer a string of questions than it was for her to produce a simple flame in the palm of her hand. Even in the fight against the gnolls, she wanted to lunge at them with a dagger instead of sending a bolt of radiant energy towards them from a distance. Why was that? Why was holding the sun within her hand more difficult than a wad of necrosis?

The headache which never fully left her thrummed in time with her heartbeat. A steady rhythm of blood which serenaded her in quiet moments. It was maddening. What had she done before the nautiloid to be cursed with the inability to sit in silence for even a moment? Tavaris took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. If it was that painful to focus within, she would focus out.

The fire dying down, Karlach’s snoring, Shadowheart – or perhaps Wyll tossing in their bedroll, the river flowing away from them, frogs croaking and crickets chirping and the sound of… leaves crunching.

Crunching leaves that were all but muffled within the other sounds of the night. Had she not been actively listening; the footfalls would have gone unnoticed.

The events that happen next came in quick succession, almost as if another being had taken control of her completely. The rustling got ever-so louder; the hairs in the back of her neck stood on end - a signal to a predator that a fool was attempting to make her prey. Tavaris spun around with her hands clutched into fists with her pinky and pointer fingers extended on both hands so that a small ball of necrotic energy crackled between the them.

“Shit.” Astarion was less than a foot from her, eyes wide – almost manic.

“That’s all you have to say?” Tavaris clenched her fist, the green energy growing brighter to the point it numbed the sides of her fingers and top of her knuckles. She stood to her full height in one motion, shoulders square as she stalked towards him until Astarion was backed against a pine tree. He was a full head taller than her but, in the moment, seemed so, so small.

“No no – it’s not what it looks like, I swear!” He pleaded, waving his hands in the space between them, “I wasn’t going to hurt you! I just needed,” He trailed off, eyes flicked to their sleeping companions - the objectively easier targets, “…blood.”

Tavaris hesitated then, fingers twitching, the necrosis she held flickered but did not dissipate. The light from her spell cast the space around them in a pale green glow which melded with the orange of the dying fire a hundred feet away. Both glinted off of pointed teeth. Astarion’s eyes reflecting the light in the same way a cat’s would. Just above the ruffle of the collar secured around his throat was a single puncture. It didn’t take much imagination to picture the second underneath the fabric.

How had she been so stupid?

“How the hells did I not see this.” The question came out as a statement as rage bubbled in the pit of her stomach. It rose through her throat, curling her mouth into a snarl. Tavaris kept her voice low, as much out of anger as a need not to wake the others. “How could I be so blind? Look at you.” She hitched her head towards the fire, “You killed that boar, didn’t you?”

“Tav- Tavaris,” He ignored the question, “It’s not what you think! I’m not some monster!”

Her hands tightened, the sickly green intensifying, making it clear that wasn’t the answer she wanted.

“A-animals! I feed on animals,” The hand waving grew more frantic, it would’ve been cute in any other circumstance, “Boars, deer, kobolds – whatever I can get.”

She tiled her head to the side slowly, “Do I look like a kobold to you?” Blood pounded in her ears, threatening to drown everything else out. How dare he think of comparing her to an animal.

“Of course not my friend… I just- I’m just too slow right now…” Astarion’s hands fell to his sides as he spoke as if he were giving up, or putting on a show of being meek, “If I had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please.” He lowered his head and, despite being taller than her, looked up at Tavaris from his lashes.

An ache spread through her skull, starting beneath her eye socket and writhing through her brain. It was the tadpole trying to reach out to its brethren amongst her anger. Had Tavaris had a moment longer to collect herself - to push down the dark urge to twist Astarion’s beautiful flesh until he rotted beneath her hands – she would’ve swatted it away. She was too consumed with not hurting her friend, despite the fact he had just been attempting to attack her, to stop the tadpole from prying into him.

Immediately Tavaris felt hollow, cold – so very cold. She- he… they were curled on the floor. The hardness of the marble slabs digging into their knees. How long had they been commanded to knell there? Hours? Days?

In their hands writhed a rat. It shrieked and squealed in its attempt to escape their grasp. The hold was too firm to allow the luxury of escape. Long nails punctured the animal’s flesh where it fought, causing yellow puss to leak from it. They could feel the magots squirming underneath the scabbed, patchy fur.

A sob escaped them as they bit down. The rancid blood of the rodent flowed through them, sustaining them.

Tavaris pulled away, breaking out of whatever bloodthirst tried to consume her. Without thinking, she shifted the fists of her hands so that they were cuffing the empty space between them in two crescents. The necrotic energy morphed into a lilac sphere before she deftly flicked it towards the campfire.

A bubble formed over the group there, immediately silencing the crackling of the fire and any other sound within. Though she had no memory of casting this spell before, Tavaris knew that it worked both ways, that those entrapped within the sphere of silence could hear nothing outside of it.

She could kill him if she wanted to and no one would know.

The horrid suggestion was pushed away as soon as it came, her anger now focusing on the one who had hurt Astarion before they met. “You were forced too.” Tavaris spoke slowly, any fury was now gone, replaced with a need to understand. “That’s why you didn’t say anything before this.”

“At best, I would sure you’d say no.” He shrugged; eyes glossed over as he tried to push down the trauma she inadvertently forced him to relive. Astarion had his attention on the dome of magic, trying to discern its nature she supposed. His focus returned to her when he spoke again, “More likely, you’d ram a stake through my ribs. I needed you to trust me.” He held her stare, blood red irises not leaving the grey of her own, “You can trust me.”

Tavaris sighed, the tension in her shoulder blades leaving her. Nestled within the memory the tadpole revealed was a deep dread that rivalled the disgust from the experience. He was afraid. She didn’t want to be someone who reveled and that kind of fear anymore. “I do trust you Astarion.”

His eyes widened before relief flooded through his expression, “Thank you.” His next words came out slow, chosen carefully, “Could you… trust me a little further? I only need a taste, I swear."

He had said he needed blood to fight better, but that wasn’t completely true. It was written in the way his posture slumped, how his eye contact was far too forced. He was trying to prove something. To whom she wasn’t sure.

Her whole body felt wrong – corrupted somehow. If Astarion drank it and had no ill effect, maybe the poison within her was solely residing in her mind. There was a chance she could actually fight the dark urges if she knew for certain it was only confined to her thoughts.

“Fine.” Tavaris said, rolling up the sleeve of her shirt past her elbow, “No more than you need.”

“Really?” Astarion gasped before composing himself, “I – of course. Not one drop more.” He nodded as if he was trying to convince himself of that statement while smiling pleasantly. The grin didn't reach his eyes.

“As long as I can stay focused the others won’t notice.” She gestured to the silence spell, “Do keep that in mind.” Tavaris turned her back from him, returning to the spot she sat in earlier before padding the dirt in front of her. “You might as well sit down.”

A nod was all he gave her as he did what was asked. The pupils of Astarion’s eyes were wider than she had seen them before, to an almost unsettling degree.

“If you don’t pull away when I ask you to,” She held her arm out in the space between them, “I’m going to electrocute you. Do you understand that?”

“Oh? Another trick I didn’t know you had,” He smiled coiling as his fingers circled around the small of her wrist and pulled it closer to him, forcing her to lean in somewhat. There was no warmth in the touch, it felt like she had just plunged it into the river beside them, “My dear, you are just full of surprises.”

Tavaris wanted to throw a snarky remark back towards him but the time was not afforded to her. Her wrist was lifted up towards him as he lowered his mouth to meet it with a shuddering breath as Astarion fluttered his eyes closed. Almost as an afterthought, he placed a single kiss over the veins there before his gripped tightened and he bit down.

A small “Oh.” was all that left her.

The rush was indescribable. Tavaris had bleed before, many times that she could not remember. But this? With her blood actively being taken – syphoned… Instinctually she clutched her fist which sent more blood gushing out of her and into his mouth. It spilled at the corners of his lips, trailing down his chin and blotting the white of his shirt where it met his skin. Astarion paid the stain no mind as if e was miles away, his expression almost euphoric.

The breaths he would take through his nose bordered on panting. In the beginning the air that left him was cold, but quickly morphed into a warmth that she understood came from her.

The corners of Tavaris’ eyes blurred as a pit in the bottom of her stomach formed, threatening to drag her into the soil below them. Her head was begging her to let it lull to the side. The rushing of her blood that never left her ears subsided and for the briefest of moments she felt the thing which she desired most - quiet.

“Enough,” She breathed, “Astarion that’s enough.”

“Mhm?” He hummed, not quiet hearing her. There was the briefest hesitation before he retracted his fangs from her wrist with a sickly pop. A string of pink saliva trailed from his mouth down to her skin before separating. “Of course,” He held her wrist still, eyes not leaving the two holes formed in her skin and the impressions of the other teeth around them. “That ah... that was amazing.” An airy laugh left him as his thumb slowly trailed down and circled the punctures, smearing the blood there, “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong. I feel…”

“Happy?” She supplied.

“Happy.” The smile grew, for the first time she saw a tinge of pink over his cheeks and the tips of his ears - her blood, “I’m happy.”

A quiet moment stretched between the two of them, just the water, the distant frogs, and his panting breaking it. The adrenaline began to subside, giving way to a dull ache over her arm as she shuddered in a breath, Tavaris was expecting the thrumming to come back once his lips left her. All that remained was the voice in the back of her head telling her to lunge towards him and slit his throat but reduced to a quiet murmur.

“I didn’t do it so you could fight better.” She said.

“What?” He sounded shocked, as if that was the last thing he was expecting her to say.

“You said you needed blood to fight better. That is not why I offered you my hand.” She looked up to him then, staring at the way her blood was already beginning to crust over his jugular, how it bloomed in the fabric of his shirt and stained his teeth. There didn’t seem to be any ill side effects, quite the opposite really. It didn’t burn his skin or rot his clothing. It was just blood.

“Are you… alright?” Astarion made a motion as if he were going to lift his hand towards her before, stopping almost if he thought better of it.

“I’m fine.” Tavaris swallowed, “I just feel a little woozy.”

“It’ll pass.” He said as he leaned backwards, using the palms of his hands for support as he looked up towards the stars, “Just be glad I’m not a true vampire. A bite from them and you might wake up as a spawn, like my good self. All of a vampire’s hunger, but few of their powers.” Sadness twinged in his voice. "I would hate for you to be a spawn of any kind darling."

Tavaris flicked her unbitten wrist, lifting the blood from the fibers of his shirt and skin, evaporating it in the space between them with a simple bit of prestidigitation. Though it did nothing for the blood that stained his teeth and gums. She let the remainder of the blood on her stay for a reason she couldn't quite place.

“Is that how you can stay in the sun?” She asked before he could comment on the spell, “Because you’re not a true vampire?”

“Ohh no,” Astarion let out that sad laugh, “I should be cinders in the light. I hadn’t seen the sun for two hundred years three morinings ago.”

“And the first thing you did was try to attack me?” She tilted her head to the side, an objectively bad move as what remained of her blood rushed to her forehead.

“No, the first thing I did was try to scurry to a shadow. Then I attempted to…strike up a conversation with you.” His smiled at that like it was a playful memory, “Someone - or something - wants me alive.”

She pressed her hand to her temple, “The rules have changed for you then?”

“I suppose that goes for you as well.” He gestured to Tavaris, “Though it’s not as severe with drow, your kind isn’t meant for the sun either you know. But, standing in the sun…” Astarion took his eyes from the sky and looked to The Chionthar, “Wading through a river, wandering into homes without an invitation - they’re all perfectly mundane activities now.”

Tavaris rolled her sleeve back down, the dried blood on her skin flaking as she did so, “Do you think it’s the parasite’s doing?”

He shrugged, “That’s my theory, but who knows?” Physically he was present in the conversation but his eyes, a more vibrant red now, were trailing over every nook and cranny of the forest beyond the river. What she had given wasn’t enough for the hunger inside him.

“If I can help in anyway, within reason, just ask. We’re in this together.” The silence spell was beginning to waver, the energy signaling its dissipation crackling at the base of her skull.

“Oh Tavy, you’re such a sweetheart.” He still wasn’t looking at her.

“We’re literally in this together, my blood is inside of you.” That brought his focus back to her. “How are we going to go about feeding you in the future? I highly doubt Shadowheart will be as understanding with this little revelation. Especially if she, or any of the others, find out the same way I have.”

“They would turn up with torches and pitchforks no doubt. Come first light, we’ll all have a little chat about it.” Astarion locked eyes with her for a moment before going back to the tree line. “No innocence,” He said quietly, more to himself than to her, “You have my word Tavaris.”

It was her turn to sigh, “I see no harm in the ones that we’re going to kill anyway, they’ll be just as dead a few minutes later.”

“Exactly! After all, you know what I am now.” He smiled, more genuine this time, “I’ll fight with all my weapons – teeth included.”

Astorian seemed the most relaxed since they had met in that moment, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. This could have gone so very differently had she listened to the desire to kill him. She’d be hiding his corpse right now, but instead, he sat beside her leaning back leisurely and looking up the way the moon reflected over the water in awe. Now that she understood that he was by all accounts dead, the act of giving him her blood made him feel… alive and she had done that. For the first time perhaps ever, her blood had been used to help someone.

“You might as well bring whatever you kill back to camp too." She was partially joking and hoped the mirth in her tone translated that, "It saves a step in the cooking process."

“Ha, of course. Now,” He stood like a dancer entering a stage with all the grace that she was currently unable to muster, “If you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more… filling.” Astarion took a few steps towards the tree line before looking back to Tavaris over his shoulder, “This is a gift you know.” He said simply, “I won’t forget it.”

#baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #astarion/tav #redemption dark urge tav

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