I'LL KEEP YOU FAR AWAY FROM ME LIKE A STAR! - (platonic btvf x star child reader
CONDENSATION: To a sick Sabina, you were the starry-eyed kid who had saved her when she was too sick to even get up. She calls you her shooting star. Little does she know you, in fact, did come from one!
WORD COUNT: 3.8k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: got carried away but i really like how this turned out! song for the header is fallen star by 'the neighbourhood'
THE ANCIENT GREEKS BELIEVED THAT their fate was written in the stars. That they were tied to destiny in a cosmic and mythical way. They believed in the Moirai, or the fates, who cut and measured lives. Also believed that the stars were thought to be a part of the fabric they'd woven.
And it is widely believed by the ancient civilians that the stars were divine beings or connected to gods. Like, say, Astraea, the goddess of innocence. She became the star-maiden constellation Virgo.
Or Orion, a famous hunter, who after his death got turned into a constellation. And it is famously known that the king of gods. Zeus often placed mortals he favored among the stars.
Nonetheless. When a sick Sabina, who at that point was still sick and bedridden. Strands of raven ink
hair sticking onto her forehead. Her bleary eyes were trained on the midnight sky. The world had long since gone to sleep. The stars are twinkling. And the moon shining up so high, making itself the main attraction for those who still weren't asleep.
The duchess smiled faintly Her head was propped against a pillow one of the maids had put for her before leaving. knowing how much she despised being helped. Even though she was powerless and weak due to the illness that had overcome her.
The night was her friend. It didn't pity her. Didn't worry about her like Tristan did. Standing next to her everywhere she went. refusing to leave her side. The duchess knew her husband meant well.
But he still irritated her with his nagging.
She pushed the thoughts aside. Watery eyes from how bad her throat ached shifted to look out the open balcony. Once more admiring the inky sky. Once more, taking in its twinkling stars.
They shone so, so, so brightly. She focused on one specific star. One that stood out to her in her vision.
It looked the same as the others. Faint and barely there amidst the other incandescent things.
Maybe she was too sick? She tried to reason with herself. Because of the particular celestial body she'd been looking at. Seemed to... It seemed as if it was inching closer. At rapid speed.
Her eyes widened. One of her clammy, pale hands was digging into the white table nestled next to her bed.
The realization of how weak she was caught up to her. “Fuck,” she cursed, her voice hoarse from disuse. But as she stared at the floor of the once dark room. The beaming light from the shooting star was blinding. Coming closer and closer by the second.
Everyone almost always says that when you spot a shooting star. You should wish upon it. Whatever it may be, realistic or not, achievable or not. It may come true.
If so, if the myths were true. Sabina closed her eyes. The faint images of her family were flashing in her brain.
Lloyd, Vincent, and Tristan. As well as the newly arrived guest, Sabina had been hearing her name whispered among the maids. “I’d like to meet her too,” she thought out loud. Her wish was now obvious, loud, and clear in her hazy brain.
“I wish to get better,” she rasped out, hand still on the white side table in a way as if she wanted to will her body to get better.
Just so she could live out the rest of her days with her family. Even though she barely spent time with them. Even though she hated how much Tristan and Lloyd pitied her rapidly deteriorating state. Or the maids' pitiful guilty glances thrown her way when they thought she wasn't looking.
So, stupidly, she was so hopeful that her wish would come true. The light was almost blinding at this point. The room once cloaked in darkness was now blindingly and flashing white from the beaming star falling upon the Valentine mansion.
The sick duchess closed her eyes. Once more envisioning her cursed family she'd grown to love, accepting the fact that she was now one foot into death's cold dark door. Only waiting to put the other foot in.
She still remembered the day that she held Lloyd. Mewling and crying for the first and only time as her body began its long journey of giving up on her. He was so pale. With the smallest hands she'd ever seen. Tendrils of sticky hair still stuck to his head. The maids were moving rapidly, the midwife yelling out orders that fell deaf on Sabina’s ears. Eyes trained on the babe in her grasp. She had never truly experienced feeling the weakness that was settling on her sinking into her body as one of the maids quickly took her son away. For all she knew, it was the last time she'd ever held him. The illness settled that day.
She was never truly able to hold a baby Lloyd ever again.
And yet to anyone that asked about her pregnancy. Boasting about it was all she ever did.
When Sabina opened her eyes. She wasn't greeted with darkness, nor was she sent into hell. Her chest felt so much lighter. Hands gripping the sheets and then ungripping, checking if she was still alive.
what the fuck
She blinked a few times, making sure what she saw wasn't fake. That she wasn't delusional or that she'd died and now she was a ghost with others haunting the mansion.
But the vision in front of her never truly left. Her cheeks were warm from the tiny hands pressed against them. The hands belonged to the brightest and most glowing child Sabina had ever laid her eyes on.
And it wasn't figurative either. The child in front of her was, in fact, glowing. Surrounded by this pale white or yellow halo. It encircled the little girl. Wrapping her up as if it were keeping her safe. Her face had patches of stars shades lighter than her skin color, as if she were born with them.
The mystery child's cheeks were puffed out as if in concentration. The duchess felt the heaviness that seemed to have settled in her chest when the illness took place practically disappear as if being popped like a bubble.
Rapidly her illness was fading away. She could breathe normally now. Not having to take long, deep breaths because it physically hurt her to breathe. The pain shooting up into her body usually makes her double over and vomit red crimson blood.
The keyword was usually. This time when she breathed, it felt like fresh air. As if she were seated by her favorite tree. Inhaling its sweet scent as the petals gently landed on the floor.
It was as if her wish had come true. She didn't even know she had closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she witnessed the child's action. It was so endearing to the duchess, causing her to break out into an infectious grin.
Sabina’s heart practically melted at the same time as her brain worked to figure out where this mystery child had come from. At first she thought it would be the work of her husband, Tristan. But for the split moment she'd looked up to look around the room.
She didn't find the worried duke standing next to her with his black hair and the weariness and worry etched into his expression as he looked into her crimson eyes.
A kind of vulnerability he didn't show around anyone but his wife.
So, she had concluded. That. She'd come from that beaming shooting star. The one she thought would kill her.
Instead. That bright celestial object was now seated on her lap, staring at her as if she had no idea how the world worked.
Sabina found the girl so...so...so cute? She couldn't think of another word to describe it. With her puffed-up cheeks, the scars shaped like stars itched all over her form. And that wide-eyed starry hope that nowadays you only saw in children.
“God, you’re cute,” Sabina blurts out. And maybe an old traitorous part of her thought that this was indeed fate.
.
.
.
BEING assigned a job to fulfill one's wish was truly tedious and, to you, really tiring. Truly you'd rather play with the clouds or catch astray stars and put them back where they come from.
But nonetheless, a wish is a wish. Your name had come out of one of the assigner's lips. An old woman in billowing robes the color of cream and gold. Immediately recognizing her as one of the main assigners who gave you and others like you jobs to do around the mortal world as she crouched, placing the files in your tiny hands.
“I know how much you hate doing jobs like these,” the woman started. In your eyes, she looks unbearably young like this. As if she was trying to reassure you. Like one did with their own children.
“It’s fine,” you replied, feet kicking at moving wisps of white beneath your feet. Trying to catch some other sound from the nearby attendants also getting assigned. They were all older. Usually, younger people like you didn't get assigned to materials like this.
But you neither had a mother nor did you have a father to take on the jobs. And the stars weren't as forgiving as mortals. So, you were made to take on the hardships children weren't familiar with.
It wasn't as if your body was built for it either. Stars didn't have a need for sustenance, or at least you were told adults didn't need any. And you were too skinny.
“Barely any meat on these bones,” the old lady muttered, her hand on your forearm, causing you to turn your attention back to her. Immediately flinching at the moment, taking a step or two back away from her. Feet barely making a sound against the clouds beneath your feet. The chatter of others and the rustle of paper and pens were louder than anything else.
You hadn't been paying attention to what she had said before. Lost in your own world. She still had that smile dancing on her lips as if she did. ‘She was probably trying to encourage me,’ you thought. And you weren't wrong, as that was what she usually did.
The old woman stood up. A slow movement, as if if she moved too fast, she might fracture her body. Her clothes rustled by the movement.
“Anyhow,” she replied. Your name fell out of her lips once more. “Don’t forget.” She turned around; you could barely make out her facial features as she turned. “In the end we are all made of star-stuff.” She shrugged, turning her head and giving you a wink.
She looked impossibly young in that moment. No older than thirty, maybe. But before you could dwell on the moment, you were being ushered to go fulfill your job.
.
.
.
“AND where did you say this child came from?” the doctor asked. You'd been around for less than a day. Remembering exactly when a tall man with a raven head had barged into the room frantic. And had looked at you as if you were a pest.
You weren't!. At least to yourself you weren't. And quite frankly, this was your best job ever. Gone was the bedridden, too-pale woman. The sickness that once clogged and cloyed the room with it had disappeared. Leaving the imposing, elegant woman who had (thankfully) gotten you out of the jail cell you'd been thrown into once the man had gotten his hold on you.
Bluntly, your hatred for the man was festering more, gosh! Who knew dukes could be such prudes!. It wasn't as if you were going to kill the woman. You just made her feel better...permanently!.
“Around and about,” Sabina answered vaguely to the doctor’s question. Her eyes were trained on you. Curious and protective in a way you weren't able to decipher. Upon closer look. Sabina was truly really beautiful when she wasn't on death’s door.
‘I did this,’ you thought. Boasting to yourself. This wasn't the first time you'd healed someone. But it was the first time you had healed someone as sick as Sabina.
Sabina was beautiful in a way. She looked like a black swan in your opinion. A divine being blessed by Aphrodite. With her dark hair, it fell almost to her waist. And the prettiest eyes that reminded you of red roses. You'd never seen such eyes look at you with so much reassurance in your short-lived life.
Tristan eyed you. And then he eyed his wife. Letting out a tch before grabbing the back of your dress. Holding you like an 's' and going from side to side. Eyes trained on the marble floor as you tried to maneuver your way out of this grasp.
Has this man never held a child before?
The voices around you blurred. You saw the shadow of the duchess fall upon you, the doctor stammering out more questions that Sabina answered with so much vagueness it was astonishing, honestly.
And with each question, Tristan was just getting more irritated. The blood rushing to your brain just as quickly.
“I don’t understand why you’re protecting this child. If it’s a thief, then so be it!” Tristan quipped. Voice dripping with agitation. He was probably also frowning, but you couldn't confirm that.
“Because I can,” Sabina replied, moving closer as if just seconds away from slapping Tristan’s hand away. But not following through with the movement, as she realized you'd just plummet to the cold floor before anyone could catch you.
“If it’s because she’s a girl, I told you we already have one, and she’s far better than this glowing creature!” He tried to reason. His words hurt. Glowing creature, for fuck's sake! You'd saved his wife's life.
“Don’t call her that. If I wish to keep her, then so be it; it shall be my responsibility, not yours!” Sabina argued, crossing her arms.
He let out an exasperated sigh. As if just having this talk and her being angry with him after just getting better physically pained him. “Well, what if she’s an outsider? A spy? Sent by the emperor! She could harm you then! And you could end up dead!” he spat out.
It was petty, and you knew it too, for you to still be upset that he had called you a growing creature. To be fair, you were one. But still you were a toddler! What kind of grown man does that to a toddler?!.
Blurry tears clouded your vision. Tiny sniffles now filled the hostile air. Your lips quirk downwards and into a frown.”Gosh, adults were just so mean and ungrateful,” you thought somberly.
Hiccups came out before the tears began dripping down your face and onto the marble floor. The doctor had long excused himself. As to not get slain for witnessing this conversation in the beginning.
If looks could kill, Tristan Valentine would have been six feet under the moment Sabina had glared at him as she heard the tiny sniffles coming out of the toddler.
“You made her cry!” Sabina's slender arms swiftly picked her up from how he was holding her. Her head was now buried in the crook of her neck. Fat tears bubbled down her chubby cheeks.
“I—” Tristan was at a loss for words. Not a single child he'd ever had cried in front of him. Maybe when he wasn't in the room, sure. And maybe it was because he was just oh so kind that they would cry from happiness.
“Whatever thought you have in your brain, I will be keeping this child,” Sabina declared. And she had declared a lot of things in the past. Just not with the same intensity that she had in that moment.
Tristann sighed. Not able to get a word in as she stormed out of the room. Slippers slapping against the floor, the wooden door slammed shut with a loud bam. Making the maids nearby physically jump. Watching as the duchess walked back to her room.
Back inside, Tristan sighed, rubbing his temples. “God help me,” he groaned, moving swiftly and slumping against the leather chair of his office, head tilted back. Strands of his hair had stuck to his cheekbones.
He felt the doors creak open, assuming it was Sabina, though he knew that after every argument he had to be wrong. Never her.
And usually it was never her that was wrong. Just what was so special about that child that made her want to keep her?. The doctors and healers he had called in had all called it a miracle from the stars that she had gotten better from what they had called an ‘incurable illness.’
But Tristan wasn't like that. Surely it wasn't fate. That made no sense to the duke.
Anyhow, pushing his thoughts aside. His eyes followed the creaking of the wooden door. It was, in fact, not Sabina.
“Who dares to enter the duke’s office without knocking?” He asked, voice sharp, still not witnessing the figure emerge from behind the wooden door on the other side.
But, once he saw the tuft of pink hair. He relaxed ever so slightly. His daughter. Or so he called her; it hadn't been more than a few weeks since she had arrived at the Valentine mansion.
But Aria Cortez (or Valentine) was perhaps the second person ever to have made him care about their well-being.
The duke didn't say anything. His demeanor eased as he beckoned her over using one hand, to which the pink-haired
The girl had strolled towards him and was now at his side. Big doe-pink eyes meeting his, a smile blooming on her face.
She pulled out a card from the brown satchel she carried with her everywhere. The paper rustled inside as she tilted her head downwards to find the paper she had written.
“Why were you fighting?” She wrote, showing him the paper. Her handwriting was loopy. The paper was tinged brown from use. He made a mental note to buy her some new paper.
“Just adult discourse,” he said vaguely. His hand now rested on the armchair, his fist holding his face as he gave her his full attention. Something he rarely did.
Aria didn't look convinced; her brows furrowed in a way that made it visible that she didn't believe him. Trying to gouge the truth from him.
But Tristan was used to things like this. And didn't relent as he continued staring at her. Blinking every few seconds.
Aria, in defeat, pulled out another paper. Grabbed a pen off of his desk using the tip of her foot. Creasing the tip of the shoes, the maids would surely weep after seeing it.
She turned the paper towards him after she finished writing. “I heard that there is a new child here besides me. Is that why you and the duchess were fighting, Father?” She wrote asking not bothering with niceties.
The duke made a disgruntled sound that sounded like a yes. The pink-haired child tilted her head in curiosity before tilting her head back down to write something else.
It was in smaller handwriting at the corner of the paper. “When can I meet the duchess and the child?” His daughter sure was full of curiosities.
“The duchess isn’t in a good mood... And the child won’t be staying long,” he answered, voice muffled by his palm.
Aria's lips quirked into a frown. God, why was every woman in his life upset with him today?.
.
.
.
“Come on,” Sabina cooed, her voice muffled as you were hiding beneath the blanket. The duchess had learned your name just last week. And she had to say it did in fact really match you.
But it seemed no matter the amount of words, she would tell you to get rid of Tristan, calling you a glowing creature went in vain
. As it was the only thing stuck in your brain as you hid beneath the silk, white cover, you looked like a lump in the middle of it with how little you are. As if a misplaced pillow.
Sabina could drag you from out, but where's the fun in that? Considering you would get more upset if she did that. Her soft hand patted the top of the blanket, trying to make it look like a comforting gesture.
“Come on, star child, I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” she tried to convince. “My husband just says stuff without thinking. I’m sure he will love you if you two just sit with each other.” Tristan had, of course, apologized to Sabina like maybe a week ago.
But, when he tried apologizing to you, you wailed so loud he immediately shut the door and didn't try communicating with you ever again.
Sabina sighed. Head rested against the mattress. Fine if you wouldn't go to the duke. Then she would just bring him to you!.
With the brilliant idea that had bloomed in her mind, she pressed her lips against the comforter atop of where your head was. “I’m going to go get something and come back, okay, baby? “Don’t move.” She stood up swiftly, crouching in pain for a second or two. Before her slipper began their sound against the carpeted floor.
Moving out of the room. Suddenly it was all quiet. You peeked out of your safe haven to make sure it was true that she was gone.
But in your vision was the old woman now sitting next to you on the bed. It had dipped in her barely there weight.
She smiled her signature smile. “Ready to go home, starchild?” she asked. eyes twinkling with amusement at the scene she had just witnessed. But for the first time in any mission, you didn't want to go home.
Because no amount of tears or future missions would make you forget how happy being with Sabina was.
And in a few years, looking back. Those would be the best memories of those two weeks you spent with them. They would be the best days of your life.
The moments after you'd vanished. Sabina had managed to drag Tristan to apologize. Your name coming out of her lips in such delight would've made you giggle if you had heard it.
“Where—” The words died on her lips. She didn't need to investigate as her heart broke. She hadn't even known you that long, and she believed that it was fate. That you'd be the child she finally raised. The child whom she had grown to adore in such little time.
Had vanished. And a stupid part of her hoped. That the next time she saw a shooting star, she wished upon it. You'd show up again.