So Astarion’s grand plan immediately after the crash is to stand around and call for help. It’s to lure someone, sure, but then for the first time in possibly his entire existence, someone actually answers.
He called on all the gods for help. Seduced and lead adventurers and heroes (amongst whoever he could find, I’m sure) to their deaths. And no one, not once, was able to save him.
That has to occur to him at some point. Lying in his tent as the camp sleeps around him, possibly starting to have feelings for someone (that he doesn’t care to acknowledge) that for once, for the first time in two hundred years, he called for help and might have just received it. Man’s having a mental crisis lying on a plank of wood out in the wilderness, surrounded by a group of weirdos.
AKA, oil rig spoiler lol, dw hes not actually dead but Barnacles sure thinks he is!
!! TRUE VERSION WITH BLOOD UNDER THE CUT !!
Even the howling wind can't drown out the thudding of his heart against his chest.
Kwazii was never still or quiet, even when he slept. But now? Now he smelled like blood and death, limp in his arms.
He doesn't know how long he stood there, just that the familiar call of the octoalert, muffled by the wind, was the only thing that managed to pull him out of his shock. Even then- Even then, the others struggled to take Kwazii out of his arms so Peso could try- and try so hard- to save him.
It's sickeningly nostalgic. The pressure in his head sounded just like an arctic storm at its very worst.
Barnacles doesnt remember all the details from the day after he found Kwazii, lying limp in a pool of his own blood.
He had chased and chased and barreled through every obstacle following the scent of His Blood. But it was too late. It wasn't enough. He wasn't enough. He had let this happen and now Kwazii's freezing little body, not shivering, not even his stupid little whiskers- Was in his paws.
Kwazii was so still.
Mission failure.
His fault.
Those last three thoughts were what was viciously cycling through Barnacles mind as he sat numb in the hallway of the octopod, vegimals at his side. Right up until the slide of the med bays doors opened at long last. This is why he refused to sleep despite being up for nearly two days straight.
Kwazii had promised he'd be fine. That they'd meet up soon and be on their way back to the Octopod.
"Pirate's promise!"
He needs to be okay.
He has to be.
Please-
Please.
It's so much blood, you'd have to wonder... is all of it really his?
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Bonus:
The original drawing i made around a year ago because it lives in my head FREE OF CHARGE 💥💥💥
I kind like how the og one was more dramatic even if it was anatomically incorrect lol
I forgot to tag and no pressure to respond if u didnt wanna be tagged <3 @calamaroo @brownyanyk @lucky0rchid @animalsalvationassociation @mickrabbit @100bad-days-made100good-stories @nixtheoctoagent @kittycreatureofthewoods
fanfic research is so funny to me, because the majority of my search history will be "[word] synonyms" or "synonyms for [word]" and "how to describe [insert thing]" and then sometimes also crap like "what food do they serve at cafes" and other things about that sorta stuff (because i'm a homebody who doesn't know how normal things work), but usually, that's all there is to it most of the time
but then other times, there'll be one portion of my search history spanning a few hours of me researching medical equipment for a blood transfusion because my DUMBA** ACCIDENTALLY WROTE MY FAV CHARACTER INTO CRITICAL CONDITION
