the tale of two lovers [1]
pairing: barbarian! katsuki bakugou x reader (female)
summary: a bard approaches a lone barbarian in search for a story to tell. Who could have known that the barbarian end up being such a romantic tale.
notes: fantasy au, fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn, bakusquad, barbarian bakugou
word count: 7.1k
part list
part one: chapter list
a/n: I told myself this would be a oneshot and now it's accumulated to six chapters with no end in sight.
In the heart of this simple town, a rambunctious group of adventurers stumble through the night. Seeking refuge from the cold night. A towering barbarian leads— His broad shoulders clad in woolly animal fur that puffs upwards adding height to his figure. Over his red cape, a scimitar slings over his back serving as a warning to all. Irritation grows with each step, his red eyes darting around his surroundings for shelter.
“Tch.” a grumble leaving his throat as they trudged on, “How hard is it to find a damn inn?” annoyance laced the blonde’s voice. The pink skinned fighter and dragon shifter exchange glances, silently communicating through their facial expressions on how to mitigate Katsuki’s temper. After a brief and wordless discussion, Mina turns to the barbarian.
Attempting to ease the tension, she speaks gently. “Don’t blow a fuse just yet, we’ll find one soon,” Her bright pink skin stood out even in the dim setting, blush pink curls bouncing as she walked, “you’re not the only one who’s exhausted ya know.”. The barbarian rolls his eyes as he moves forward.
Their mindless bickering fills the cool air as they traverse through the town, searching for somewhere easy and simple to stay for the night. Folks that happened to pass by the group could feel their agitation seething from them. Their frustrations would be understood if one simply knew what they’ve been through. Heavy grunts and whiny complaints left their mouths as they searched for an inn. Exhausted from finishing their recent commission that brought them on a long-winded journey.
Finishing their commission feels like a heavy weight has been lifted from the group’s shoulders. They’ve returned to town to meet with their employer for their reward. Despite how antsy the group is for their pay, they’ll have to wait until it’s day. At the very least, they can get some deserved rest after such a long journey.
A warm glow stops them in their tracks. There’s a bustling inn standing with pride in the centre of the town. The windows are aglow with a golden light, casting a warm, inviting hue onto the weathered cobblestone street below. To them, this inn is a warm haven against this cold night. It appears that their earlier frustrations seem to vanish with this finding. Atop the thatched roof there are wisps of smoke curling lazily from the chimney, carrying the comforting scent of wood smoke and roasting meat. The smell alone causes their stomachs to grumble. Hunger finally hit them. Flickering lanterns hang on either side of the heavy wooden door, their flames dancing within their confines. Hanging above the entrance is a creaky sign emblazoned with the tavern’s name, “The Tipsy Hippogryph”.
The heavy wooden door creaks as it swings open, allowing the sounds and scents of the tavern to spill into the night. The tavern's walls, made of sturdy stone and timber, are adorned with flickering torches and a few faded tapestries. There is a cosy, golden glow over the room. Wooden tables and benches, scarred by years of use, are scattered across the floor, most occupied by patrons enjoying their evening. The low hum of conversation and occasional bursts of laughter create a comforting, lively ambiance. The tavern keeper, a burly man with a thick beard and a booming voice, moves deftly behind the bar, filling tankards with frothy ale and serving plates of hearty stew. His wife, a kind-eyed woman with a quick smile, greets the weary travellers.
“Evening.” She greets warmly, “Looking for rooms or just here for a bite?” It’s clear she’s experienced with her work. There’s a homely touch to her that puts one at ease. Her voice is pleasant with a maternal tone, it welcomes all that step foot into the inn.
Bakugou strides up to the counter, his imposing figure catching the attention of a few patrons. He simply ignores them and speaks to the innkeeper. “Two rooms, we’ll share.” He wastes no time getting straight to the point. Not really keen on small talk or talking in general.
The innkeeper gets to work immediately, flicking through the log book to search for the requested rooms. Her hands are fast to hand the barbarian the keys and inform him where they are located. “If yer hungry, our kitchen is still open.” she gestures to the busy meal area by her side. The place is scattered with patrons from all walks of life. Townsfolk, travellers and merchants. They sit hunched over their mugs, deep in conversation, while others sing raucously, their cheeks flushed from the ale.
At the sound of food, the adventurers do not waste any more time. They find a table by the fire. The fire roars in the large hearth, its crackling flames adding to the tavern's warmth. The air is thick with the mingling aromas of roasting meat, fresh bread, and the sharp tang of spilled ale. The scent alone sends them to the edge of their hunger. Eagerly ordering a feast with an abundance of ale to satisfy their stomach. A barmaid weaves through the tables with practised ease, balancing trays laden with food and drink. She exchanges friendly banter with the regulars as she serves them.
In the corner, a minstrel plucks at a lute, singing a cheerful ballad that competes with the din of the crowd. His nimble fingers dance across the strings, and his voice, though not perfect, adds a layer of charm to the tavern's atmosphere. A few patrons clap along, and a couple of children, likely the tavern keeper's, dance near the hearth, their laughter ringing out above the noise. Candles set in iron sconces flicker, casting long shadows that shift and sway with the movement of the patrons. The wooden floorboards creak underfoot, worn smooth by countless feet over the years. The bar is a hub of activity, with patrons jostling for the keeper's attention, coins clinking as they pay for their drinks.
It wasn’t long for the barmaid to come by with their order. As she approached, the enticing smell of the fresh food made their mouths water. Swiftly, she begins to place the platter onto the round, wooden table. In the centre, golden-brown turkey legs are piled high on a simple steel plate. The skin is crispy and glistening with savoury juices. The sight teases the group as they wait patiently for the maid to finish her job.
A basket of freshly baked bread is placed beside the turkey legs. The bread was still warm, the crust crackling slightly as it cooled. The innkeeper had sliced the loaf thickly, revealing a soft, fluffy interior that begged to be torn apart and slathered with butter. Following that is a large bowl filled with baked potatoes. Each potato was perfectly roasted, the skins crispy and slightly salted. A dollop of melted butter pooled in the centre of each potato, seeping into the fluffy interior and releasing a heavenly, buttery fragrance.
Finally, the barmaid props down a wooden pitcher of ale, frothy and cold, with a rich amber hue. The most exciting addition to the meal. She hands out the sturdy mugs. The ale foams up to the brim, a few droplets spilling over the edges and onto the table.
“Thank you pretty lady.” Denki shoots a charming smile at the barmaid, earning a laugh from her. She waves him off before going back to tend the busy bar. The impatient one, Bakugou, grabbed a turkey leg first, tearing into the tender meat with a satisfied grunt. Kirishima and Mina followed suit, each reaching for a leg of their own. In turn, Sero and Denki dove into the bread, slathering it with butter and passing around the baked potatoes.
They settle into the warmth of the inn, enjoying the hearty meal. Laughter filled the air as they recounted the day's journey, from the close calls during their journey to Denki’s less-than-graceful attempt at flirting with the local from earlier. Bakugou, as usual, mostly grunted in response, too focused on his food and drink to indulge in much conversation. As the night wore on, the group began to grow tired. They’ve satisfied their hunger and now it’s time to turn to other needs. Kirishima stretched and let out a loud yawn, his dragon scales glinting in the firelight. "Alright, I’m beat. Think I’ll hit the hay."
Mina nods, agreeing with Kirishima’s words. She pushes herself off the chair and straightens up, “Busy day tomorrow, we should all get some rest.” The other two members rise from their seats except for one. Bakugou stays in his seat, looking down at his ale. Admiring the deep amber colour. It looks rich and inviting under the flickering light of the hearth. A thick, frothy head crowned the top, with bubbles rising lazily to the surface, creating a satisfying hiss as they popped. The ale clung to the sides of the sturdy wooden mug as Bakugou tilted it slightly, leaving a thin, foamy residue in its wake.
“I’ll be here a while longer,” Bakugou doesn’t look up, “Don’t wait up for me.” He tosses the keys onto the table, keeping the spare for himself. Usually, he’d be the first to hit the sack. Always emphasising on the importance of sleep for the body. But his comrades already know the reason for the sudden change. He needs to be alone. Denki and Sero exchange a glance.
"Don’t stay up too late, Bakugou," Denki teased, slapping the barbarian on the back as he walked past. "We need you in top form tomorrow." As he skips over to Denki, Sero manages to ruffle Bakugou’s hair. Not that it changed much, it’s still a mess.
Bakugou rolled his eyes, taking another swig of ale. "Just.. get outta here." He doesn’t have the energy to be foul. The others laughed as they headed upstairs, leaving Bakugou alone at the table. He leans back in his chair, savouring the quiet and the last few bites of his meal. The inn had began to empty out, with only a few patrons lingering near the bar, their voices low as they finished their drinks.
He stays in his seat, lost in thought, with his pint of ale. Mindlessly watching people leave the tavern, lost in thought. Warmth spreads through Bakugou's chest as he takes a long sip. There was a subtle sweetness from the roasted barley, balanced by a hint of bitterness from the hops that lingered pleasantly on his tongue. The finish is smooth, with a slightly smoky aftertaste, leaving a satisfying sensation that made him reach for another sip almost immediately.
Just as Bakugou was about to take a sip, a figure approached his table. It’s a bard, a lithe man with a lute slung across his back and a curious glint in his eye. He wears a wide-brimmed hat adorned with a single feather, and his fingers were adorned with rings that glinted in the firelight. Bakugou has the intention to ignore the man, he isn’t in the mood for company. Especially from some halfwit in a dumb hat.
The bard gives Bakugou a respectful nod before speaking. “Mind if I join you for a moment, sir?”
Bakugou looks the bard up and down, his expression unreadable. “I mind, now fuck off.” he gruffly replies as he takes a sip of his ale, “Go bother someone else.”
The bard’s smile remains steady, unruffled by Bakugou's gruff tone. "Forgive me for intruding," he speaks, his eyes twinkling with genuine curiosity. "I couldn’t help but notice you and your companions earlier. You strike me as a man with stories to tell, and I’m always on the lookout for inspiration for my songs. Care to share a tale or two?" His gaze is earnest, carefully assessing Bakugou’s mood, hoping to coax a story from the reluctant barbarian.
Bakugou leans back, grumbling as he takes another swig of ale. "I don’t tell stories. It’s not my thing."
The bard chuckles softly, sliding into a chair without waiting for an invitation. "Everyone has a story, even those who claim otherwise. Perhaps a tale of a great battle, or a quest that brought you to this town? A man like you must have seen his share of adventure."
Bakugou’s eyes narrow, studying the bard. His instinct is to brush off the intrusion, but something about the bard’s easy confidence and genuine curiosity makes him pause. Maybe it was the warmth of the ale or the unusual openness of the evening, but Bakugou found himself surprisingly open to the conversation. He did have a story— one that weighed heavily on him.
"Why do you care?" Bakugou asks, surprised by his own willingness to engage. On any other night, he’d have tossed the bard out or shouted him away.
The bard shrugs, resting his elbows on the table with an air of quiet conviction. "Stories are what keep us alive. They remind us of where we’ve been, what we’ve survived, and inspire others to forge their own paths. Besides," he adds with a grin, "I have a feeling your story is one worth hearing."
Bakugou is silent for a moment, his gaze drifting to the flickering flames in the hearth. He thinks back to all the battles he had fought, the friends he had made, the enemies he had faced. He isn’t one to dwell on the past, but he couldn’t deny that his life had been anything but ordinary. Especially with the most recent chapter of his story: you.
Finally, he sets his mug down with a decisive thud and meets the bard’s gaze. Perhaps the ale has made him loose-lipped. "Alright, I’ll tell you one story. But just one. Don’t expect me to get all sentimental or anything.”
“I met a woman, her name was …”
Your name was scribbled on the back of a map. That was Bakugou’s first introduction to you. He scowled down at what was supposed to be an intricately drawn parchment, then back up at the merchant. “You’re telling me this costs eighty gold and twenty silver?” His teeth clenched, barely containing his frustration at the absurd price. This flimsy, poorly drawn map isn’t worth half that. The barbarian’s patience was wearing thin—this was the twentieth merchant he’d approached in search of this damned map, and all he had to show for it was what looked like a cheap knock-off.
They were hunting for the map of Niniel’s Veil, an ancient, mysterious elven forest known for its dense, enchanted woods. Those who dared venture into it often wandered lost for years, if they ever returned at all. Information about the Veil was scarce, and what little existed was shrouded in myth and legend. All most people knew about was how difficult it was to go in and out of the forest alive. Bakugou was furious to find that after all this effort, all he was offered was this questionable scrap of parchment.
Niniel’s Veil was more than just a forest—it was a vast, sprawling labyrinth of nature. A forest shrouded in ancient magic and mystery, its reputation known far and wide as both a place of wonder and peril. The towering trees, with trunks as wide as castle towers, reached impossibly high, their dense canopies weaving together like an impenetrable tapestry of leaves and branches. The forest floor was an entanglement of twisted roots and thick underbrush, where sunlight barely penetrated, casting the entire woodland in perpetual twilight. Swallowing anyone who dared to enter. Every step inside the Veil felt like stepping into another world, where the air was thick with the scent of moss and the whisper of ancient secrets carried on the wind.
This forest had once been the sacred domain of elven ancestors, a place of refuge and mystery. It was said that within its depths lay countless treasures and artefacts, hidden away by those ancient elves who had stolen them in times of war and turmoil. The promise of these lost relics had lured many adventurers into the forest, but few had ever returned. Those who did spoke of twisted paths that led them in circles, illusions that played tricks on their minds, and creatures that seemed to be made of the very shadows that filled the Veil.
For Bakugou, entering Niniel’s Veil was not a choice but a necessity. He needed to find a lost piece of his draconic artefact, a relic of immense power that had been passed down through his family for generations. Without it, the artefact was incomplete. The artefact was not just a tool; it was a part of him, tied to his very identity and strength. The thought of it being lost forever gnawed at him, driving him to desperation. It’s been left missing for too long and he intended to do something about it.
He stared at the map in his hands, frustration and doubt warring within him. This map was his best chance of navigating the cursed forest, but its authenticity was questionable, and the price was absurd. Eighty gold and twenty silver for a flimsy piece of parchment that might not even be accurate? It felt like a cruel joke after all he had gone through.
But the alternative was wandering the Veil blind, with nothing but his instincts to guide him. The thought of spending years lost in the forest, of never finding the artefact, made his stomach twist. The merchant watched him carefully, sensing his hesitation, but Bakugou was too focused on his internal debate to notice. As he reached for his coin pouch, a pink hand halted him from doing so.
Mina crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently as she watched Bakugou wrestle with the decision. The merchant’s smug grin only made her more irritated. Eighty gold and twenty silver for a flimsy map? It was a rip-off, and she wasn’t about to let her friend get swindled.
“Bakugou, we’re not paying that,” she said firmly, stepping forward. She shot a glare at the merchant. Her voice cut through the tension like a blade, drawing the attention of the entire group. “This is daylight robbery, and you know it. We’re leaving.”
Bakugou’s eyes flicked to her, a scowl forming on his face. “Mina, we need this map. I don’t have time to play around.”
Mina grumbled under her breath, thinking of the possible choices they could make. That is until she takes another good look at the map. That name scribbled on the map. It seems so awfully familiar.
All of the sudden, it clicks in her head. “Thanks for your offer but we’ll have to say no!” Mina stepped in abruptly.
What was she thinking? They needed that map to better their chances of going through the damned forest. Bakugou was about to bark at her but she cut him off.
Without waiting for further argument, she grabbed Bakugou’s arm and yanked him away from the counter. “Come on, guys. We’re out of here.”
“What the hell Mina? We needed that map!” Bakugou barked, fighting Mina as she dragged him out of the shop.
Sero was the first to react, a grin spreading across his face as he watched the scene unfold. “Guess that’s that, then,” he said with a shrug, casually following Mina’s lead. He was more amused than anything, enjoying the way Mina took charge. “Gotta admit, it was a pretty steep price for a piece of paper.”
Denki, on the other hand, looked a bit disappointed. “But what if that was the only map?” he protested, jogging to keep up as Mina pulled them out of the shop. “We might have just walked away from our best chance!”
“Or we just saved a ton of money,” Sero countered with a laugh, clapping Denki on the back. “Relax, Denks. We’ll find another way.”
Kirishima, ever the loyal friend, looked between Mina and Bakugou, his expression torn. “Mina’s right, Bakugou. That map didn’t even look legit. I know you’re desperate, but we’ve been through worse without needing to pay through the nose for something like that.”
Bakugou’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t resist as Mina practically dragged him out of the merchant’s shop. He hated to admit it, but Kirishima and Mina had a point. The map was overpriced, and there was no guarantee it was even real. Still, the thought of wasting more time searching for another lead made his blood boil. He was a man of action, and every delay felt like another step further from his goal.
Once they were outside, Mina finally let go of his arm and spun around to face the group. “Look, I have a better plan. I know how to get the actual map!” She seemed confident. It raised some eyebrows. What did Mina have up her sleeve to guarantee a rare map?
Bakugou glared at her, his frustration evident, but there was no real anger behind it. “You better be right about this, Mina,” he muttered.
As the group walked away from the merchant, Mina could feel the tension still radiating off Bakugou. She knew how important this quest was to him, but she also knew something that the others didn’t. With a sly smile, she stopped the group and turned to face them.
“I didn’t mention this before because I only just realised it, but I actually know the author behind that map.” Mina began, catching their attention. “I took a good look at that dumb, fake-ass map and recognised the name on the back.”
Bakugou’s eyes narrowed. “You what?”
A few months ago, the others had been busy with their own tasks— Bakugou training with Kirishima, Denki and Sero fooling around in the market— Mina had taken some time to explore the outskirts of a small town they’d passed through. She hadn’t meant to wander too far, but something had drawn her deeper into the woods until she stumbled upon a naturally formed dungeon hidden beneath a thick canopy of trees. The entrance had been nearly invisible, covered in moss and overgrown vines, but she’d caught sight of it and felt an irresistible urge to investigate.
Inside, the air had been cool and damp, the walls of the dungeon shimmering with faint traces of ancient magic. As she ventured further, she heard a weak voice calling for help. Instinctively, she followed the sound until she found a small chamber, where a person was slumped against the wall, barely conscious. Their mana and health were dangerously low, and it was clear they wouldn’t survive much longer without assistance.
Mina had acted quickly, using what little healing magic she knew and offering her own supplies to help the stranger recover. As she worked, she couldn’t help but feel a connection to this mysterious individual, and when they finally regained consciousness, she was shocked to learn their identity. The person she had saved was none other than one of the most renowned cartographers in the land, famous for their unparalleled skill in mapping even the most treacherous and unknown territories.
Grateful for her help, the cartographer had offered Mina a unique artefact as a token of thanks—a small, intricately carved crystal pendant. It glowed with a soft, blue light, and the cartographer explained that it was enchanted to allow them to communicate with Mina at any time, no matter the distance. “You’ve shown kindness when you had no obligation to,” the cartographer had said, placing the pendant in her hand. “If ever you need guidance or help, you need only call, and I will answer.”
Sero whistled, clearly impressed. “You’ve been holding out on us, Mina. That’s one heck of a connection.”
Bakugou’s frustration began to ease as he listened, his interest piqued. “And you think this cartographer can get us a real map of Niniel’s Veil?”
Mina nodded confidently. “Absolutely. If anyone can, it’s them. And since I helped them out, they’ll probably do it for a fraction of what that greedy merchant was asking. Or maybe even for free.”
Bakugou finally let out a sigh, nodding in approval. “Fine. Contact them. But this better work.”
Without wasting any more time, Mina reached into her pouch and pulled out the crystal pendant. It was a small, clear gem that glowed faintly with a soft, bluish light. Holding it in her hand, she whispered a few words, and the crystal began to hum gently, a sign that the connection had been made. The blue light pulsed gently as the magic connected, and soon a voice came through, calm and familiar.
“Your name and what you need?” the voice asked, tinged with a hint of curiosity.
Mina smiled, her fingers tracing the edges of the pendant. “Hey, this is Mina from a few months ago.”
There was a brief pause, then a soft chuckle. “Ah, yes, I do remember you. Calling for a favour?”
Mina nodded, even though the cartographer couldn’t see her. “So, I need a map for Niniel’s Veil. Could you get me that?”
The line went silent, the only sound the faint crackling of magic in the air. Mina’s heart skipped a beat as she waited, anxiety creeping in as the seconds ticked by.
Finally, the voice spoke again, steady and thoughtful. “Where are you currently?”
Mina quickly glanced around at her friends, who were watching her intently. “Oh, um—we’re at the town of Leford.”
There was a pause, then the cartographer’s voice returned, sounding pleased. “How fortunate, I’m in Khela. I’ll go over to Leford tomorrow. Let’s meet, Mina.”
Mina’s face lit up with excitement. “Really? That’s great!” She could hardly believe her luck, and her grip on the pendant tightened in gratitude.
“Don’t mention it,” the cartographer replied, their tone warm and reassuring. “See you then, Mina.”
Mina exhaled, feeling a wave of relief wash over her as the connection faded and the pendant dimmed. She tucked it back under her shirt, looking up at her friends with a triumphant smile.
“Looks like we’re meeting them tomorrow,” she said, her voice brimming with confidence.
Bakugou gave a satisfied nod, and Kirishima patted her on the back, beaming with pride. “You really pulled through, Mina. Thanks.”
Sero grinned and Denki let out a whoop of excitement, the tension from earlier completely dissipated. They had a plan, and thanks to Mina, they were one step closer to finding the path through Niniel’s Veil.
You look down at the pendant in your hand, watching the soft blue glow fade away. The magic within it settles, leaving only the cool touch of the crystal against your skin. You turn back to the view of Khela, the prosperous town sprawling before you, its beauty tinged with the golden light of the setting sun. You had just finished your business here, so Mina's call was perfectly timed.
Niniel’s Veil. The name stirs something deep within you, a mixture of pride and apprehension. Your mind drifts back to that forest, the memories of navigating its treacherous paths still vivid. That place was hell to map— an ever-shifting labyrinth of ancient trees and hidden dangers. It had taken you and your father five long years to chart every inch of it, and even then, the forest had resisted your efforts, as if it had a will of its own.
Being a cartographer wasn’t just a profession for you; it was a legacy, woven into the very fabric of your being. From the moment you turned ten, your father had taken you under his wing, guiding you through countless expeditions, teaching you the secrets of the trade. Every line on a map, every curve and symbol, held a story—a story your father had passed down to you.
Your thoughts shift to Mina’s request. Niniel’s Veil. It’s not a place one simply wanders through with just a map in hand. You know this all too well. The forest was a living entity, a place where the unwary could lose themselves for years, or forever. Sending them in with nothing more than a piece of parchment would be a death sentence. And after what Mina did for you— saving your life when you were at your weakest— there’s no way you could let that happen. Besides that, you knew your principles wouldn’t allow you to abandon them like that.
Your conscience won’t allow it. You owe her more than just a map. You owe her your guidance, your expertise. She and her companions would need more than directions; they’d need someone who knew the forest’s secrets, who could navigate its shifting trails and hidden perils. With a resolute nod, you make up your mind. You’ll be their guide through Niniel’s Veil. But first, you’ll have to convince them to accept your help.
When you arrived at the inn in Leford, you found Mina and her companions huddled around a large wooden table, deep in conversation. Their chatter halted the moment you stepped closer, their eyes flicking to the pendant hanging around your neck—the very one Mina had described to them. You could feel their wariness, especially from the blond barbarian who fixed you with a hard, scrutinising stare, as if he were already imagining how he might take you down if needed.
“So, you must be the cartographer,” Kirishima said with a friendly grin, his dragon-like features softened by his genuine warmth.
Bakugou, however, was more reserved, his sharp eyes sizing you up. “You got the map?” he asked, cutting straight to the point.
You nodded, but before you could reach for your satchel, you raised a hand to pause them. “I do have the map, but… I’m not just here to hand it over.”
That got their attention. Bakugou’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Sero tilted his head curiously. “What do you mean?” Sero asked.
You gave them a small, knowing smile as you pulled up a chair, sitting down without waiting for an invitation. “Are you guys really planning to brave Niniel’s Veil with just a map?”
Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at you. “What’s it to you?”
You chuckled, leaning back casually in your chair. “Everything. That forest is no joke. I know because I’m the one who mapped it. If you think you can just waltz in there with a piece of parchment and come out in one piece, you’re either fools or far too brave for your own good.”
Mina shot Bakugou a look, clearly trying to defuse the tension. “We appreciate the concern, really, but we’ve been through a lot together. We can handle it.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt your abilities,” you said, your tone still light but with an edge of seriousness. “But Niniel’s Veil isn’t like anything you’ve faced before. That forest has a mind of its own. It twists and changes to trap you, to keep you lost. I’ve seen seasoned adventurers disappear there, never to be seen again. And frankly, I’d rather not add your names to that list.”
Denki looked a little nervous at your words, glancing at his friends for reassurance. “So, what are you saying? That we’re doomed?”
“Not doomed,” you replied, waving off his concern with a smirk. “Just…in over your heads. Which is why I’m offering to be your guide.”
Kirishima leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “What’s the catch? People don’t just offer to lead groups into dangerous forests for fun.”
You shrugged, pretending to think it over. “Well, I could ask for some gold, but honestly, this is more of a personal matter. I don’t like seeing good people get themselves killed when it can be avoided. Plus, Mina here did save my life, so I figure I owe her one.”
Mina blushed slightly at the mention of her good deed, while Bakugou’s scowl deepened. “We don’t need charity,” he growled.
“Who said anything about charity?” you countered, meeting his glare with a challenging look. “This is about survival. You need someone who knows that forest inside and out. Someone who’s already spent years mapping its every inch. Like I said, you can try it on your own, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”
The group exchanged glances, each of them weighing your words. Finally, it was Bakugou who broke the silence, his voice gruff but grudgingly accepting. “Fine. But if you slow us down, you’re on your own.”
You chuckled again, nodding. “Fair enough. Just try to keep up, and we’ll get along just fine.” You could tell your words struck a nerve with Bakugou—no one tells him to keep up. With a smirk, you tossed the rolled-up map across the table to him, watching as he caught it and unrolled the parchment. The group crowded around the map, eager to take a look.
The moment Bakugou spread out the map, the difference was clear. The shoddy, overpriced map the merchant had tried to sell them was nothing compared to this. Your work was meticulous and precise, every detail painstakingly drawn. The map was likely the best they had ever seen, a masterpiece of cartography. Bakugou’s scowl softened as he took in the craftsmanship, a flicker of something like respect in his eyes. He was relieved they hadn’t wasted their gold on that flimsy knock-off.
“Looks like you really know your stuff,” Kirishima commented, impressed, to which you slightly nodded.
Bakugou said nothing, but his silence was telling. His crimson eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual, scrutinising every inch of your expression as if trying to find a crack in your resolve. But the map in his hands, its detailed lines and intricate markings, spoke louder than any words could. He might not admit it, but the quality of your work had earned his grudging respect. For someone like him, that was saying something.
With a huff, he rolled the map up with practised precision and rose from his seat, the chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. “We’re leaving at first light. Don’t be late,” he grumbled, his tone more of an order than a suggestion. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode toward the stairs leading up to the rooms, his heavy boots thudding with each step.
As Bakugou disappeared from view, the atmosphere around the table shifted. The rest of the group visibly relaxed, the tension that Bakugou’s presence often brought fading away. Kirishima chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t mind him. That’s just how he is. He’s actually a good guy—just takes a while to warm up.”
Sero leaned back in his chair, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, once you get past the scowl and the growling, he’s practically a teddy bear. A really, really angry teddy bear.” Denki snickered, nodding in agreement. “Just don’t tell him I said that. I like my head attached to my shoulders.”
Mina, ever the peacemaker, smiled warmly at you. “He’s right to be cautious, though. We’ve been through a lot together, and he’s just looking out for us. But I’m glad you’re here. I think we’re going to need all the help we can get in Niniel’s Veil.”
You couldn’t help but appreciate their camaraderie, the easy banter and the unspoken trust that bound them together. It was clear that they had faced their fair share of challenges, and the way they talked about Bakugou revealed a depth of loyalty that went beyond mere friendship.
As the conversation flowed, they began sharing stories of their past adventures, tales of battles fought and enemies vanquished, of close calls and hard-won victories. Each story painted a picture of a group that had seen the worst the world had to offer and come out stronger for it. You listened intently, absorbing their words, getting a feel for the dynamics at play.
But amidst the laughter and reminiscing, there was also a word of caution. Kirishima, his expression serious for once, leaned in and said, “Just one thing: Bakugou’s on a mission. It’s personal for him. He won’t tolerate anything—or anyone—that gets in his way. So just…be aware of that.”
You nodded, understanding the weight of what he was saying. They had told you briefly about their journey to Niniel’s Veil. The draconic artefact, the quest they were on—it wasn’t just about survival or adventure for Bakugou. It was about something deeper, something that drove him relentlessly. They didn’t really tell you details. You respected it quietly, not wanting to pry over something private.
Despite the thrill that tingled at the edge of your senses, there was a weight in your chest as you thought about Niniel’s Veil. The forest was no ordinary place—its dangers were real, its curse tangible. Returning there as a guide was a challenge that stirred something deep within you, but it was tempered by the sobering knowledge of what awaited. You knew the risks, the treacherous paths, the way the forest itself seemed to conspire against those who dared enter.
This wasn’t just another expedition. It was a test of survival, a journey where one wrong step could mean the difference between life and death. And yet, you had accepted the responsibility to lead them through it, to navigate the shifting shadows and ancient traps that had claimed countless lives before.
Tomorrow, at first light, the real journey would begin. You steeled yourself for the challenges ahead, knowing full well that what lay beyond the veil was as deadly as it was unknown. But this was your path now, and there was no turning back.
You had long grown accustomed to the early mornings, a discipline hammered into you by your father from a young age. He believed that a cartographer had to rise with the sun, to seize every bit of daylight for the work ahead. Expeditions didn’t wait for anyone, and neither did the maps that needed to be drawn. Over the years, waking before dawn became second nature, ingrained into your very being. So there you were, seated alone at a worn wooden table in the inn’s common room, the first rays of morning light filtering through the dusty windows.
You tore off a piece of buttered bread, savoring the simplicity of the meal as you waited. The inn was quiet, save for the occasional creak of old floorboards or the distant sounds of a town beginning to stir. It was a moment of solitude you had come to appreciate—a calm before the storm that was sure to follow once the others arrived.
Bakugou was the first to appear, his heavy boots thudding down the stairs. You glanced up from your breakfast as he entered the room, surprised to see him pause when he spotted you already seated. It was clear from the flicker in his eyes that he hadn’t expected you to be awake, let alone waiting. There was a brief moment of mutual acknowledgment—him noting your early rise, you noting his surprise.
“Hmph,” he grunted, more to himself than to you as he strode over to the table. “Didn’t think you’d be up before the sun.”
You shrugged, popping a bit of bread into your mouth. “Old habits die hard. Besides, I figured I’d give you lot some extra time to get your beauty sleep.”
Bakugou snorted, dropping into the chair across from you with a scowl. “We’re not here for pleasantries, so don’t think I’ll be impressed by your early wake-up calls.”
“Good,” you replied, leaning back in your chair with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want to set any unrealistic expectations. But I’ll warn you—Niniel’s Veil won’t wait for anyone, not even you. Early starts might just save your hide.”
He narrowed his eyes, but there was a grudging respect in his gaze, as if he was weighing your words. “Just make sure you don’t slow us down. I’m not in the mood to babysit anyone.”
“Babysit?” you echoed with a laugh. “You’ve got it backward, Bakugou. I’m the one making sure you don’t wander off and get yourselves killed. That forest isn’t going to play nice just because you’re loud and stubborn.”
“Loud and stubborn gets results,” he snapped, but there was an edge of amusement in his tone. “But we’ll see if you’re as good as you say you are.”
You locked eyes with him, the challenge hanging in the air between you. “Oh, I’m good, alright. Just try to keep up.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension taut but strangely invigorating. Then Bakugou huffed, breaking the silence. “Don’t get cocky. We’ll see if you’re still talking like that when we’re deep in that cursed forest.”
You chuckled, the sound low and knowing. “I’ll be fine. Just worry about yourself, barbarian.”
Bakugou leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a grunt, but there was a flicker of something that might have been amusement in his gaze. “Tch. We’ll see. Sthyarli.”
The word rolled off his tongue with a sharp edge, his tone laced with disdain. It was clear he didn’t expect you to understand it, let alone respond. But you had spent years travelling the continent, picking up languages like a second skin. Draconic, while not your strongest, was one you had made sure to grasp. It was a necessity when mapping regions native to dragonborn. What began as a practical skill soon became a weapon in your arsenal. One you were now thankful for, if only to wipe that smug look off his face.
You scoffed, unimpressed by his attempt to catch you off guard. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”
The surprise in his eyes was brief but unmistakable as your retort slipped out in his own tongue. “Tiamash.”
Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, his expression darkening for a moment as the insult sank in. He hadn’t seen that coming, and for a split second, you caught the barest hint of respect mingled with the irritation in his gaze.
“Hmph,” he grunted, his voice low and dangerous. “Careful. You might just bite off more than you can chew.”
You grinned, unfazed. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”
Bakugou’s lips twitched as if he was fighting back a smirk, but instead, he just shook his head, rising from his seat with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Keep running that mouth. Just don’t slow us down.”
As he turned away, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. Matching wits with Bakugou might have been risky, but it was also undeniably rewarding. The tension lingered in the air as he stalked off, but it was clear that you had earned a small measure of his respect. There was a sense of mutual understanding between the two of you now—a recognition that while you might not be friends, there was respect born from the knowledge that the road ahead wouldn’t be easy for any of you. And as you sat there, finishing the last of your bread, you couldn’t help but think that perhaps this journey, dangerous as it was, might just be worth it.
next chapter
a/n: thats the first chapter, the next one will come next tuesday !! be ready for the next one @chocogoldie
sthyarli: idiot
tiamash: asshole
border credits: @enchanthings & @adornedwithlight
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My Fanfiction Master List
Hello everyone! My name is Space Barbarian, I am a DnD nerd and curently obsessed with BG3. My inbox is open for requests.
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All my HCs in one place
Text me if you want to be added into the Tag List
You can also send me requests but rn I write only things related to my OCs, but I will return to Astarion x You sooner or later
The List of Fics
Mortal Bounds
Tiriel dies and Astarion deals with grief and loneliness along with their daughter
List of chapters
Mortal Bounds. Part 1. Shall We Meet Again?
Mortal Bounds. Part 2. Death, Worthy of a Barbarian
Mortal Bounds. Part 3. Paint it Black
Mortal Bounds. Part 4. Butterfly
Mortal Bounds. Part 5. The Vampire and the Witch
Mortal Bounds. Part 6. Tel'Quessira nalme
Astarion x Tiriel the Barbarian (OC Tav)
I Want to See the Sea of Fallen Stars (the events of the game through Astarion and Tiriel's eyes)
Hello Darling (hurt/comfort, patch 6 update)
Burn, Butcher, Burn! (hurt/comfort, burning the Cazador's mansion)
The Rogue and The Barbarian (fluff, a conversation about relationship)
Our Firsts (smut, virgin Tav)
Shadows (smut, traumatized Astarion, handjob)
Touch (smut, oral sex, trauma talk)
Pleasure (smut, oral sex, trauma talk)
Birthday Gift (fluff, hurt/comfort)
When Old Scars Hurt (fluff, a conversation about relationship)
See Yourself Like I See You (smut, body image issues, sex in front of the mirror)
Silent Scream (fluff, a conversation about traumas)
Insomnia (hurt/comfort)
Don't Go Where I Can't Follow (Astarion and Tiriel break up, reconciliation angst\hurt\comfort\smut)
Gloves (hurt/comfort)
Into the Wild (plotless hurt\comfort)
Damage Received (hurt/comfort, visions of the future)
Instinct (smut, unaplanned pregnancy, breeding, hurt/comfort)
Heartbeat (fluff, pregnancy)
Waiting (fluff, pregnancy)
Temperance (smut, post-partum body worship)
Punishment (smut, slapping, dom!Astarion)
Sleepy (pure fluff)
What we were, what we are (smut, fluff)
Astarion's Little Fire (Astarion meets his granddaughter)
Alethaine, Astarion's Dhampir Daughter
Little Bundle of Darkness (dadstarion, a birth of a child)
Memories of Innocence (dadstarion, fluff)
Baby Fangs (hurt/comfort, a sick child, Alethaine is 5 month old)
Generations (fluff, Alethaine is 7 month old)
Blankie (fluff, Alethaine is 8 months old)
Deep Reverie (hurt/comfort, flluff, Alethaine is 2 year old)
Chaotic Elves (domestic fluff, Alethaine is 2)
Tiny Dhampir (fluff, Alethaine is 3.5 years old)
Be careful, she bites! (fluff, Alethaine is 4.5 years old)
Lost and Found (hurt/comfort, Alethaine is 6 years old)
Hide-and-Seek (fluff, Alethaine is 6)
Beloved Monsters (fluff, Alethaine is 7)
Things to Desire (fluff, Alethaine is 8)
The Dead, the Half-Dead and the Undead (hurt/comfort, Alethaine is 10)
Monster Hunter in Training (slice of life, Alethaine is 11)
Family Nightmares (reverie, Alethaine remembers her pre-birth existence, hurt/comfort, Alethaine is 11)
Guide on How to Skin Monsters (fluff, Alethaine is 12)
The Tainted Past (hurt/comfort, Alethaine is 14)
Monster (hurt/comfort, Alethaine is 14)
The Last Things (fluff, Alethaine is 17)
Somnambula (Alethaine is 17, also we see her future husband for the first time)
Past Grief (hurt/comfort, Astarion's mother, Alethaine is 24)
In Another Life, We Would Have Been a Family (Tav's father meets Astarion's mother, Alethaine is 24)
Dhampirs of the Sword Coast
Astarion's daughter adventures. Dhampirs, vampires and consequences of releasing 7000 spawns into the Underdark.
Alethaine Ancunin is a young dhampir necromancer who tries to find a place in the world to call her own. She's mostly her father's replica and extremely adventurous.
She is 25 in the longfic
List of Chapters (dadstarion, dhampirs, post-game, gen)
One-shots with generic Tav
Pointy Ears (Elven ears being very sensitive, fluff)
Things We Deserve (angst with a good end)
The Skin I Hate (hurt/comfort, Astarion dealing with his traumas)
If I Had a Voice, I Would Scream (disabled Tav, hurt/comfort)
The Marks on Our Skin (hurt/comfort, Astarion dealing with his traumas)
How Dare you?! (angst, mortal Astarion)
Fear (hurt/comfort, nurturing Astarion)
Over the Seas (fluff, mortal Astarion)
Snowstorm (hurt/comfort, Astarion dealing with his traumas)
Fever (sick Tav, nurturing Astarion)
Tainted (triggered Astarion, hurt/comfort)
Doubts (jealous Astarion, hurt/comfort)
Puppet Master (mind control. hurt/comfort, traumatized Tav)
Murderous Tendencies (nightmares and PTSD, hurt/comfort)
Reverie (nightmares and PTSD, hurt/comfort)
The Things You Never Had (aftercare, post graveyard scene, fluff)
Break (angst, break-up)
The Dragon Made of Threads (fluff)
We Shall Meet Again (hurt/comfort, a conversation about death and immortality)
Winter Solstice (f!Tav, marriage, fluff)
The Sea of Moving Ice (gn!Tav, fluff)
It's Over (hurt/comfort, Astarion is kidnapped by his siblings)
You don't love me (angst, break-up)
Tav with specific race or class
When The Light is Gone (Spawn!Tav, Paladin of Lathander Tav, angst)
Post-Game Epilogue
The Scorching Sun (a desperate attempt to redeem the infamous ending scene)
Day Fifty (fluff)
A Person to Hold (fluff)
Aftershocks (fluff)
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