#in my heart can i leave it alone and know that astarion will be hunted forever if i don't: also no

[illogicalvulcans]

one of my little rituals after i beat cazador is i make sure to have one of my high strength companions tag along to pick up his and godey and dufay's bodies and drop them right up on the top of the bright sunny rampart so they can rot in the sun forever while my dear friend astarion lives a happy life <3

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hi! I absolutely love your headcannons!! Would it be possible for me to request sick Astarion? Or Astarion with a sick Tav? :)

Hi! Thank you for your request! I think I can do both!

Masterlist

Headcanons

Caring for their sick partner

Astarion takes care of you

He isn't a nurturing type.

He doesn't really care about himself let alone someone else!

Besides, it's not like he used to hang out with mortals a lot.

During your post-game adventures, you end in the far north in the middle of winter.

Astarion doesn't feel cold, but he notices you feel uncomfortable near him - his body is cold, and he steals the heat you need so much.

It causes tension between you two - one of the first challenges for you as a couple.

During a fight, you fall through the ice and almost die in the dark cold waters.

Astarion saves you but the damage is done.

You are severely sick.

Astarion freaks out.

You are dying in his arms.

He has to save you. He won't lose you.

Astarion manages to dress you in dry and warm clothes. He leaves you by the fire for a bit to hunt - you need food, and Astarion needs blood to warm you.

Then, when you stabilize, he carries you to the closest village and gives you all the money you've earned in your travels for a room in the inn.

He spoon-feeds you and wraps you in the warmest blankets.

Sometimes you pout, refusing to take one more bitter medicine, but he can't take this nonsense - you are going to get better. Period.

When you wake up, still in fever, Astarion is always near. Either wrapping you with his blood-warm body or with his ear on your chest as if he was afraid your heart was going to stop at any given moment.

As the spring comes, you finally get better. Astarion gives you a bath, and you realize how itchy and sweaty your body is.

Then he lashes at you, of course.

You were reckless, you were risking yourself. How could you?

But you know he speaks out of fear, and you comfort him, promising to never put yourself in danger without a need.

You take care of Astarion

If you weren't a nurturing type, you wouldn't end up with Astarion.

The man needs help and care, something he never had.

You comfort him after the nightmares and kiss away his tears.

He doesn't need to be cared for physically - once the tadpole is removed, he regenerates, and it's impossible to wound him.

But he is a mental wreck who can have a meltdown over a trigger word or a cruel flashback after an innocent action.

But he is far from invincible.

He is being reckless and ends up surrounded by monster hunters.

They chain him in silver and leave him helpless on the ground to see the sun.

You manage to come to the rescue - and murder all three of them.

But as you fight, the sun rises, and it burns Astarion.

It's almost too late for him when you set him free and drag him to the shadows.

The regeneration is slowed down - the burns are as bad as if he survived a fire.

You give him blood. All you can do without killing yourself.

The assault causes one of the worst setbacks in his healing process.

Astarion is almost catatonic - curling in the darkest corner of the room in the fetal position.

You can only guess what prison his tortured mind is locked in.

You talk to him. Hug him. Takes care of his hair. Caress his back.

Days become weeks, weeks become months - and one evening Astarion is finally back.

He wraps his hand around you and nuzzles your collarbone.

By the end of the night, Astarion is his true self again, ready for everything freedom has to offer.

"I was there, in the tomb," he confesses. "I was locked there, in the dark, and all my life looked like a feverish dream."

"I am here, love," you say. "I will always be here for you."

You pretend you don't see his tears as you say it.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeong

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

I Am Here Now

And we are back with more hurt/comfort!

Thank you to all those posts about this particularly heartbreaking scene from The Last Unicorn and that one post about how it would fit Astarion and that one comic that made it come to life with pictures. Here's my contribution to it with words.

Summary: Even though the two of you push each other away, you always find a way to come back to one another.

He’d thought you had left him alone to die. Even after all the sweet things he’s said, about how he trusts you, how he knows you will be there for him, he still doubted you when it counted. Captured by vampire hunters, he’d been held in a cage for so long that he’d lost count, or perhaps it was the torture his captors had decided to inflict upon him that had made him lose count. At some point, he had lost all hope of you coming to rescue him, believing himself to be unworthy of the effort needed.

And then you had shown up in all your bloody glory, howling with rage and cutting down any hunter who had stood in your way. He had never been happier to see you again, and never been angrier.

“Where have you been?” He chokes, collapsing into your arms the moment he is free of the accursed cage. You silently hold him tight, gaze downcast. Rage rekindles within you when you see how broken the hunters have made the one you love, and you wish you could bring the hunters back just to make them suffer over and over again.

“I am here now,” you whisper, hoping to comfort him. You should have searched harder, hunted fiercer, found him faster, prevented the whole kidnapping in the first place. It was your naivety that had landed him in this situation, it was all your fault.

“And what good is it to me that you’re here now?” Astarion hates that you’re seeing him with his walls shattered, his broken heart laid bare before you. Self-hatred overtakes him, spewing venom meant for himself at you. The words tear him apart and pierce your heart, shattering it but you still hold onto him. You’ve finally found him after such a long and anxious search, you’re not letting him go any time soon.

“Where were you twenty years ago? Ten years ago? Hells, a hundred years ago?” He cries, clawed fingertips digging into your skin. The fabric of your top crumples beneath his fingers, tears dampening the cloth. His voice breaks, words dissolving into sobs as he buries his face into your chest, wanting nothing more than to disappear, dissolve, be anywhere but here. Yet you hold him close, wrapping him in your warm embrace despite the daggers that have embedded themselves in your heart courtesy of him. You let him vent it all out, giving him the space he never had even though each sob rips at your heart further.

“How dare you,” he whimpers once his tears have sapped him of all his energy, “how dare you come to me now, when I am this?” He hadn’t been the best person back when he was alive, corruption ran deep in the city he was magistrate of perpetuated by his truly, but at least he had been as normal as any elf could be. Now he was a vampire spawn, weaker than true vampires but with the same weaknesses. He had fallen so far down, a slave to both sanguine hunger and Cazador, a creature sealed in darkness lest he be dissolved by the sun, a monster despised by all.

All but you.

You let him weakly hit you, the punches lacking malice as they lightly connect with your skin and sobs continue to wrack his body. Running your fingers through his hair, you pull him as close as you possibly can and rest his head on your shoulder.

“I wish you had never come.” The words leave his lips in a whisper. The words he never meant, the words he wished he could take back the moment he spoke them, the words that hurt the most. You flinch at the words but tell yourself that he doesn’t mean it, that the words just slipped out on accident, that it was the self-loathing and trauma that spun these words, right?

“Why did you come now?”

You feel him go limp in your arms, slipping into unconciousness as exhaustion takes hold of him. As Halsin moves to carry him back to camp, you reach up and touch something wet on your face. Tears. Something catches in your throat and you tell your companions to head back to camp first, you’ll catch up with them later. Despite the looks of concern, they do as you say at Jaheira’s behest, the older woman knowing that you needed some space.

You mindlessly walk in the opposite direction of the camp, the warmth of the sun a distant feeling despite it blazing high in the sky. Numbness envelopes your body, sending chills down your spine but nothing can overpower the pain in your heart. His words have cut deep, even if you try to convince yourself otherwise and the freshness of the air that you usually enjoy does nothing to alleviate the hurt.

With a sigh, you collapse against a tree trunk, sucking in a deep breath at the twinge of pain that shoots up your side. Shit. Blood has soaked through your tunic on your left side and lifting up the cloth reveals a nasty gash courtesy of a rogue’s dagger. You let out a ragged breath, chest heaving as you rip your tunic off and press the cloth against the wound, hoping to staunch the bleeding before you die of blood loss. White hot pain shoots through you the moment the cloth makes contact and you bite your lip to suppress the yelp, willing yourself to remain strong until you can stagger back to camp and get the wound healed. Knocking back the last healing potion in your pack, you force yourself to stand once more, limping in the direction of camp and past the concerned stares of your companions straight into your tent where you collapse once more, this time unable to bite back a cry of pain when the action tears at your wound. You down more healing potions, a groan of relief escaping your lips as you feel the wound stitching itself together, your body feeling lighter with each mouthful.

Shadowheart peers into your tent but you wave her away, muttering something about wanting some space and she obliges, but leaves a few more healing potions behind just in case. You tuck yourself into your bed roll, something you haven’t done in quite a while now ever since Astarion took it upon himself to be the one to make you comfortable, and the thought sends another twang of sadness through your heart.

Did he want you back? You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t, it was your fault after all that he got kidnapped. You had been the childish one, yelling at him to get out of your sight after he had been trying to get you to take a break, going as far as to push him out of your tent physically and slamming the tent flap shut, completely missing the flash of hurt in his eyes. The next time you had left your tent, wanting to apologise, Wyll informed you that Astarion left the camp some time ago and had yet to return, panic setting in when Gale pointed out Astarion had disappeared for half a day. You were the one who had driven him away first, it was only fair that he returned the favour.

Pulling the blanket over your head, you bury yourself in the darkness, tears pricking the edges of your eyes again. You had hurt him, perhaps more than he had hurt you, made worse by your prior promise to never hurt him. He didn’t deserve you, he deserved someone who could perfectly love him, cherish him, give him everything he needed and more.

“Y/N?” A quiet voice calls out but you remain still. You recognise the voice, why was he here?

“I know you’re there, darling. You can’t hide from me that easily.” His voice is louder now, coming from next to your bedroll but you stubbornly remain where you are. You hear a shuffling sound and something impacts the ground — he probably seated himself on the ground.

“I…I wanted to say that I’m…I’m sorry.” The words feel like thorns in his throat but he forces them out anyways. He knows he has to, Karlach had encouraged him to in all her usual enthusiasm and had filled him in on what he had missed while unconscious. His immediate reaction was to check up on you from a distance, but Karlach had pushed him towards your tent, giving him a thumbs up which pressured him into going in.

You keep silent, mind struggling to form a sentence as he pours everything out to you once more, carefully lowering his walls to let you in again.

“I know I said things that hurt you, and I should not have said any of it. You rescued me, even though I thought you would never come for me and I pushed you away instead of thanking you.” He pauses, taking a deep breath he doesn’t need. “You deserve better.”

“You’re the one who deserves better.”

Astarion blinks, sitting up straight as you shift, getting out of the bed roll.

“You’re the one who deserves better,” you repeat, unable to meet his ruby gaze. “I was the reason you were kidnapped in the first place, if I hadn’t snapped at you, shouted at you, driven you away, you would never have left the camp, the hunters would never have found you and —”

“It’s not your fault.” He places a finger on your lips, eyebrows furrowed.

“But it is!” You push his finger away. “I hurt you just as much, no, more than you words ever hurt me because I promised to never hurt you! Yet I did!”

“You didn’t mean to.”

“It doesn’t excuse anything! Stop taking everything just because you don’t want to lose this relationship!”

“But I don’t!” He yells back. “I don’t want to lose this! I don’t want to lose whatever we have!”

“I don’t want to lose you.” His voice cracks as he stumbles over the words that shut you up. “If…if you don’t want me anymore I will —”

“When did I ever say that. You’re my entire world, why would I not want you?” You cut him off. He raises an eyebrow at you, searching for hints of deception but all he sees is genuineness, a fierce love for him burning within you and above all, a deep yearning for him and nothing else.

You move closer to him, cautiously reaching out with a hand that he clasps in his cold undead ones and you can’t help but smile. This brought back memories — the first time you ever hugged him, the first time he ever felt a physical touch that wasn’t sex or abuse. He puts an uncertain arm around your waist, waiting for you to do something and you lean into his touch, putting your own arms around his waist, hand holding long forgotten in place of hugging him. He pulls you in, nuzzling you and lets out a small sigh of relief.

He didn’t lose you. You’re still here. You still want him.

As much as you are his light in the darkness, he is your guiding beacon. He is the reason you continue pushing on each and every day, and you want him to know that. Tilting your head up, you meet his lips with your own, a sweet gesture that never grows old and conveys everything in your heart. He kisses back, fingers tangling in your hair and revels in the moment, wishing it would never end but alas, you need to breathe.

“I love you.” It’s the first time you’ve said those words to him.

“I love you too.” It’s not the last time he’ll say those words back.

[tragedybunny]

Sunlight and Stars in the Sky III - Astarion X F!Reader

The third, and last, part of a little arc about Astarion's confession.

Part 1 Part 2

Astarion has confessed everything to you, to try to make your relationship real. When he discovers it isn't as easy as he thought, he's determined to make things right between the two of you.

Astarion was happy, the happiest he could remember being, as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tight against his chest. You cared about him and, impossibly, you forgave what he'd been trying to do to you. Snuggled into your hair, he breathed you in, wildflowers and sun-warmed forests. It wasn't what he expected at all. He'd thought you'd scream and curse him, say you never wanted to talk to him again, maybe even force him to leave the camp. 

But you hadn’t. With soft words and the sweetest embrace, you'd told him you cared and would wait for him to be ready for anything more. His Sunlight, you were so good to him. And it was real now, what the two of you had, you had told him that. "Will you still share my tent?" His hand in yours, his voice caught in his throat as he asked. What if you didn't want to without the promise of intimacy? 

“Of course Love,” you’d smiled warmly, “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 

That’s what led the two of you here, cozily cuddled together, your fingers entwined in his as you lay with your back against him. “No hunting tonight?” 

“It can wait, there’s not much out there and I want all the time I can while you’re awake.” His lips brush your ear, the tiny half-elf point is a bit of a fascination of his, the way sometimes it makes you either giggle or make one of your happy little noises depending on just how it's touched. Tonight you sigh softly, you must be tired. 

Astarion waits until you’re completely asleep to go out hunting, even then he’s loath to disentangle himself from you, afraid you could somehow just vanish. It still stings when he thinks of that first night you stayed in his tent, you were gone when he came back from hunting. Laying there alone in the dark, it was like he had been robbed of something he hadn’t even known he had, and he couldn’t fathom why. Later he learned you still thought you were unwanted at his side. He’d make sure you never thought that again, you were his and he was yours. 

Hunting doesn’t take long, there’s really nothing about, a stray bird that found its way through the curse somehow. Once you all made it to Moonrise he’d make use of some cultists. Besides, that’s all the sooner he can have you back in his arms. Soft steps approach the tent, he doesn’t want to wake you. But something draws his attention, a sound, hushed sobs from within. Frantic that you’ve been harmed somehow, he hurries through the opening only to find you curled up on your side, face hidden in a pillow. Visibly unharmed, it's only your feelings that seem to be wounded by something.  “Darling, are you alright?” Settling next to you, he hesitates before reaching over. Is this what he’s supposed to do? Or do you want space? His hand hangs in the air far too long while he tries to decide. 

You shift and he loses the opportunity, sitting up a little to rub your eyes and try to hide your tears. “I’m fine, nothing to worry about.” 

Awkwardly, he puts a hand on your shoulder. “You can talk to me. Please?” That’s what couples do, they talk to each other, but you’re holding back, and his doubts are starting to claw their way into his mind. 

His eyes meet yours and the sudden realization knocks the air out of him. It’s him, he’s the reason for the tears. How he can see it, he doesn’t know, he’s sure all the same though. But still, you force a little smile for him. “Astarion please, I promise it’s fine.” 

It would seem it’s your turn for pretty lies, and he wants to go along with it with all his heart. Let it go, wait for it to pass, bury it and never look back. But that wound will stay there, unresolved, festering. With a shaky hand, he cups your face gently. “Love, please, I…” He doesn’t know what more to say, so he lets you go and hangs his head. Perhaps he's not meant for this afterall. 

“It’s just…a lot to take in. And it hurts to have been lied to.” Even with your eyes still watery, you’re so gentle with him. Far too gentle. 

Arms move, reaching for you, but he stops, unsure if you'd want the comfort of the one that brought you pain. “I thought we were alright.” He hurt you, his Sunlight, his Darling, his Love, and everything in him wants to run, to get away before this all can go even worse, before he has to hear you say you've changed your mind.

“We will be,” you say, voice worn from crying.

Hells, he can’t let you do this again, be the strong one, put yourself to the side for someone else. Moving closer, he cautiously wraps his arms around you, still not knowing if it's what you want. “I’m sorry. I was so afraid, I didn’t think about hurting you.” 

Returning his embrace, you nuzzle into his neck, an affectionate gesture he couldn’t even conceive of a few days ago, and now he’d die a thousand deaths to keep feeling it. “I know, I’m not mad.” 

“Gods, perhaps you should be. At least if you took it out on me, we’d be even.” Astarion gives a shaky laugh, plunging ahead despite his doubts, because you’re still there, still holding him even after everything. 

You answer with a peculiar little snort-laugh, a sound he’s never heard from yoy. For a fleeting moment he ponders how many more little facets of yours he’ll get to learn about in the time that he gets with you. “Please, if I yelled at you, you’d sulk for days.” 

“I said we’d be even Darling, not that I’d take it gracefully.” Kissing the top of your head, he smiles, grateful you’re playing along. 

“In that case,” you sit up and give him a serious look, which is immediately undercut by the grin you're suppressing, “you’re awful, you have bad hair, and you’re a messy eater.” You gesture to the recent puncture wounds in your neck for emphasis.  

His jaw goes slack and he puts a hand over his heart in mock shock. “I didn’t realize you would be so ruthless about it. Why, if I still could, I would walk into the sun and burn myself out of pure heartbreak.” 

Both of you dissolve into laughter and he scoops you into his lap, lingering giggles dying away as he covers your lips with his. “There, we’re even.” Your head comes to rest against his chest as his fingers trace small circles on your back. 

“In all seriousness, Love, I need you to talk to me. I don’t know how to do any of this, give me a fighting chance.” At the last word, his voice cracks in a way that he abhors, not only does his pride shudder at the thought of breaking in front of you, he still wants to be the strong one right now, to give you that. 

“You really mean that, don’t you?” Turning in his arms, you kneel in front of him, eyes locked to his, hands on his shoulders. 

There’s a different kind of intimacy to this, to looking you in the eyes and giving you the truth without obfuscation or embellishment. His first impulse is to look away, but he resists, keeping his gaze steady. Hands come to rest on your waist, a look of peace crossing your face at his touch. “With all my heart, Sunlight.” 

Lips press to his, fervent but not demanding of anything more. With a swift motion, he pulls you down into the blankets, causing you to gasp in surprise. “Astarion!” You try to sound exasperated, but sigh happily as he wraps himself around you. “I’m glad we talked about this, thank you.”

“I mean, I am incredible in every other way, of course I’m a wonderful partner. Now I believe I am owed one overly-sappy term of endearment or I’ll be deeply hurt.” 

“My Starry Sky.” The silly little nickname has a way of making everything inside him flutter somehow, but the way your voice was right now, soft and affectionate, warm, like a home he didn’t know he had, he’d die if you asked him too. Or at least strongly consider it. 

After pulling some of the scattered mess of covers over the two of you, lips brush yours one more time , and you tuck your head under his chin. Exactly where you belong. 

[vampiric-hunger]

⊱─ 𝕖𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕠𝕣 ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Ascended Astarion/f!reader the vampire bride

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - T, just fluff, your Vampire Lord sure knows how to make you feel special

➺ 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Astarion has been gone for couple weeks, making you miss him terribly, but when he finally returns he brings a gift to make up for his prolonged absence. and what a gift that is.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2,176

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: written for a discord server event, just a little fluff piece because i wanted to explore how Astarion would give a gift to his beloved. enjoy! <3

Your life in the palace has been peaceful so far. Well, as peaceful as it can be while living with a Vampire Ascendant who loves to entertain himself with parties, masquerades and a good-hearted murder here and there. However, you signed up for this life willingly and you couldn’t be happier. Still, parties can be exhausting, but when Astarion notices you acting less than cheery, he halts everything and gives you peace and quiet in the palace until you suggest to him to have another celebration. Eternity is full of delights and you two haven’t shared even a fraction of ‘forever’ yet, so you both take it slow, why rush when you have the evermore?

Nonetheless, before fully settling in Baldur’s Gate, you spent first few decades traveling. From one end of Faerûn to another, tasting everything life has to offer. Not needing to fear the sun, you both strolled through the streets of every city worth visiting and stalked the nights when you needed to feed. Astarion joined you quite often. And while his own desire for blood is near gone entirely, he still enjoys a good hunt, especially in your company.

But eventually you have returned home, to the palace you both carefully refurbished before leaving. After settling back in, Astarion began preparing his plans, just like he spoke years back – to make Baldur’s Gate his domain. And you settled as his Consort – managing servants, provisions, planning parties and eventually - Astarion’s and your own spawn. He carefully chooses every single person to turn into his spawn, while you are generally more lax about it, and he trusts you to make sure that they all behave. But sometimes they do misbehave, as spawn tend to, and when that happens Astarion has to punish them, sparing you the trouble of doing it yourself. You’re not averse to getting your hands dirty, but in those times you stand by your lover’s side and watch with pride how your beloved manages those lesser than him. They all deserve it after all.

Some more years pass in a wonderful bliss. But Astarion’s plans only begin to come into motion. To keep them moving as he wants them to your Vampire Lord has to travel. Sometimes for weeks, leaving you alone to manage your mutual estate. In his absence you don’t feel lonely, but you do miss him terribly, anxiously waiting for his return. At least he sends a messenger bat to you every other day, informing you about what he’s doing and always telling you just how much he wants you by his side. You have a feeling that soon he will stop going alone and will begin taking you with, just because he’s growing more possessive, wanting to make sure that you’re safe and thriving, and to him – that’s only possible when you’re at his side. Not that you could argue with that. Your entire soul aches when he’s absent.

And such you find yourself in this state again. Anxious, nervous, and longing for your lover to come home. Astarion has been gone for two weeks this time, longest yet, and for the third day now you keep wandering the palace, feeling increasingly irritable, snapping at servants and spawn alike, punishing them for minor transgressions. You need Astarion, you crave to be in his arms again, you feel like you’re falling apart the longer you’re away from him. Finest wines and freshest blood can’t lull the ache in your very soul that you’re feeling.

“My Lady, the Lord has returned.” you hear behind you and you immediately stop in your tracks. You were pacing in Astarion’s office, restless and almost ready to send another letter via bat because his own letters stopped a week ago, making you worried.

But he returned. At last.

You turn to the servant who immediately gets out of the doorway when you rush. Your footsteps are fast, you’re holding the front of your long, lavish dress so that you don’t trip. One flight of stairs, then another one. Faster, you have to go faster. If you had a beating heart it would pound in your chest like a dwarven hammer on hot iron.

And then there it is, the last step.

You stop, slightly out of breath, and see that your beloved indeed has returned. Astarion is standing by the main entrance, his clothing and hair are immaculate as always, there’s a smile on his lips but you also see longing in his eyes. Then he opens his arms for you.

“My love!” you cry out and rush to him, the sound of your heels on the tiles fill the room and you let go of your dress just before you fling yourself into Astarion’s embrace.

You hug him with a fierce need and he too wraps his arms around your shoulders, managing to do so before you crash your lips against his. You hear Astarion’s own heart beating fast in his chest and he hugs you even tighter, painfully strong, his fingers digging into your shoulders. You remain locked like this for a long while, kissing each other first in short bursts, smiling, happy to be finally reunited. Then the kisses become longer, deeper and more passionate. You let go of him only to find first two buttons on his doublet, eager to feel his skin against yours, to feel him in a way no one else feels him, or you.

But Astarion catches your fingers with firm elegance and pulls back from your lips. You eagerly want to kiss him again but he just smiles.

“Little treasure, I missed you too, but I brought something for you. Wouldn’t you like to see what it is?” your lover asks and you stop your attempts to steal another kiss.

“What is it?” you ask and dip your head lower, now planting soft kisses on his fingers that hold yours, your heart bursting with love. Astarion’s eyes soften as he watches you and he presses his lips against your forehead briefly.

“Come. I’ll show you.” he whispers and moves from you, taking your hand in his and leading you to the room left from the main entrance. It’s where you greet guests when they arrive, that is, unless the main event is happening in the ballroom.

You follow and inspect Astarion’s appearance as you walk with him, his fingers intertwined with yours. Your beloved doesn’t look any worse than how he did before he left. In fact he looks as he always does – opulent and wonderfully beautiful. You feel relief that nothing happened to him while he was away, but what could even harm the Vampire Ascendant? You know you worry too much but you can’t help it.

“Here it is, my dear.” Astarion stops and you finally look away from him to where he’s gesturing with his left hand.

In front of you, on the floor, sits a medium sized ornate chest. There was a lock on it that now rests on the table nearby and you look at Astarion, your eyebrows raised in an unsaid question.

“Just open it.” he chuckles, obviously pleased with himself. “I got it for you myself. Although I’ll admit it wasn’t an easy task, so you better appreciate it.” Astarion raises an eyebrow and you pause for a moment longer then smile, giving him a nod.

“I’m sure I will.”

You let go of his hand, however unwillingly, and walk to the chest leaning down and slowly opening it. While you do that you feel Astarion’s palm caress your rear and you smile. Oh how you missed these touches. Even though it was just two weeks, it feels like he was gone for eternity.

However, what you see inside shocks you. Your mouth drops open and you lift chest’s lid fully, straightening your back as you stare down, utterly taken aback.

“Is that-“

“A dragon egg, my dear. Indeed it is.” Astarion says with pride and you look at him, the disbelief you’re feeling right now makes you feel like you’re in a dream rather than reality. There is indeed a red dragon egg in the chest, resting on a soft pillow, its opalescent scales softly reflecting the daylight coming in through the windows.

“How did you-“

“Found a lair.” Astarion smugly raises an eyebrow at you. “It’s a red dragon egg. I think it will be quite an addition to our little home, don’t you think?”

You’re still speechless. How in the hells he acquired a dragon egg? And even brought it here? As a gift for you?

“But Astarion, dragons are not pets they are-“ you begin but he rolls his eyes, slightly annoyed now.

“Yes, my dear, I know. You don’t need to give me a lecture about what dragons are and what they aren’t.” he says while taming his irritation, then he turns to you, taking your hands in his, making you fully face him. “You forget that I’m the Vampire Ascendant, love. And you’re my beloved Consort. I’m sure once it hatches you will be able to win its trust and have a companion by your side worthy of you.”

You think it over. Yes, maybe he’s right.

“But why a dragon?” you ask carefully and Astarion scoffs.

“Why not? My coven will survive for eons! A dragon will be a wonderful part of it. To have an ally like this will prove to others that we are not to be trifled with. And you will have something loyal to you and you alone, my treasure. I think you deserve it.” Astarion lets go of your hand and cups the side of your face with a warm palm. His eyes are locked on yours and you see that he truly believes you can convince a dragon, a red dragon above all, to become loyal to you. Well, at least he didn’t steal an egg from a black dragon.

“But what if I fail?” you ask with a tinge of worry in your tone and Astarion sighs, pulling you closer now, his hands finding their usual spots on your hips.

“My dear, I don’t think you are capable of ever failing me.” Vampire Lord smiles and leans closer to your face. “You are perfect in every way, why would you doubt yourself now?” he asks and his lips move over your eyebrow, then down your nose, making you smile and giggle, just like that.

“You put too much faith in me.” you look at him while Astarion trails a row of pecks across your left cheek, making you briefly close an eye when his nose brushes against your eyelashes.

“Everything I have would mean absolutely nothing without you.” he whispers and his eyes meet yours at last as he pulls back just enough to make sure that you see how serious his expression is. “How could I ever doubt you, my lovely Consort? You’re my world. And you will be my world forever.”

Astarion leans in and kisses you again, possessively but also affectionately, like a mere fraction of a thought of you not being in his life makes him fear losing you. His kiss is intense and needy, and you respond in much the same way, holding onto his arms when he fully presses himself against you.

“You’ll do just fine with the egg, my dear. I know you will.” Astarion whispers and you hug him now, your arms move around him; you press your palms onto his back and bury your face in his chest, feeling him begin to stroke your hair.

“Thank you.” you murmur against the fabric of his coat with your eyes closed. You smile and inhale the familiar perfume, letting it fill your lungs. “It’s a very precious gift.”

“Oh I know.” Astarion responds and he sounds like he’s smiling, you think he is. His strokes on your hair are slow and tender. A moment of silence passes before you speak up again.

“Just don’t leave for this long again. I missed you terribly.” it’s easy for you to admit it, he knows that you weren’t yourself without him.

“I won’t, I promise. And if I do need to leave for longer, I will take you with me. Does that sound good, my pet?”

You nod and sigh, relaxing in his embrace.

At last the palace feels much warmer, so much livelier now that Astarion’s back. It’s like stone and iron lost their iciness with your lover present. But no, it’s not that the walls feel more welcoming with your Lord back home, it’s that Astarion is your home. The world is a cold and unwelcoming place but not when you’re with him. Not when you’re in his embrace. Not with his lips pressed against your hair.

And you have forever together. Including, it seems, a dragon to hatch and raise.

You smile while being held by Astarion. Your Vampire Lord sure knows how to give lavish gifts.

You will have to return his kindness later. And you know just the perfect way to do so.

[shamefilledsnzblog]

Relief

So, B/aldur's G/ate gave me brain worms, and the only way to relieve them was by tormenting the pretty, bratty vampire.

Female T/av (a tiefling in my head, but insert your own if you like) with the kink , spore allergy, inducing, and a lot of buildups. Enjoy!

For all its dangers, Tav mused, the Underdark was beautiful. A strange, unnerving, decidedly fungal sort of beautiful, but beautiful all the same. Unable to sleep, Tav sat outside her tent, gazing out over the landscape of craggy rocks and softly glowing mushrooms. With no sun or moon to know the time of day, it was hard to know whether it was time to sleep or not, but for most of the party, exhaustion had set in, and they had retired to their tents, leaving the camp quiet and still.

Well, almost still. Tav’s eyes picked up movement, and immediately brought her to full awareness. She reached quietly for her weapon, preparing herself for whatever might be prowling in the night. A Duergar, a hostile Drow…

… A vampire.

Tav relaxed, but kept her eyes fixed on the movement by the most distant of the party’s tents. Astarion had set up as far from them as was safe, claiming “if I have to spend one more night listening to you all snoring, I may find myself forced to silence you”. And yet, with nobody snoring so far tonight, the vampire was still awake, and skulking off into the dark.

Tav rose to her feet, weapon still in hand, and followed quietly. It was far from unusual for Astarion to steal away at night when the day had provided no opportunities for him to feed. Often the morning after they would wake to find a conveniently bloodless boar or deer to add to their camp supplies. But the Underdark offered no prey that could be tackled alone. At least, not without great risk. If it was blood Astarion had left in search of, Tav had plenty to offer.

She tracked Astarion to a small clearing nearby, and to her surprise, found him sitting on a large stone, one elegant hand raised to his face. As she drew nearer, Tav saw his shoulders shake with a great, unsteady breath, and heard a quiet sniffle. Tav felt her heart sink on his behalf… Had he really felt he needed to creep away in the night to cry?

Another sharp, unsteady breath, another damp sniffle, and then…

“I can hear you skulking about, you know. Is even a moment’s privacy too much to ask?”

Tav stepped from the shadows, drawing closer. Up close, she could see a watery sheen over the vampire’s red eyes, and she had to fight the urge to reach for him and offer comfort, knowing he would likely reject what he saw as pity.

“I was worried for you. This isn’t a place to go wandering alone. I thought you were going hunting, and thought I ought to…”

He cut her off with a sudden hiss of breath, waving a hand at her to silence her. Puzzled, she watched as his eyes closed, and his elegant nose wrinkled with a sudden, sharp sniff. His breath hitched, once, twice… His lips parted, revealing just the tips of those lethal fangs. Another deep, expectant breath, and…

“Damn it all! You scared it off!”

Tav blinked, baffled.

“You came out here… to sneeze?”

At the mere mention of the word, Astarion’s nose twitched again, and he rubbed it angrily. His breath snagged on another series of useless hitches, and he gave a frustrated moan as they came to nothing.

“These blasted spores! I’ve needed to sneeze them out all day, but I c- I ca-hhahh… Hhahh… Damn it all!”

Tav came to sit beside him, torn between sympathy and amusement, and… Well, the less she thought about that little effect, the better. Astarion heaved a sigh, continuing to rub at his long-suffering nose, and gave a huff of irritation as she rested a hand on his back.

“And now, on top of everything, I have you as witness to my misery. This place gets more wretched by the hour!”

Tav took hold of his wrist and gently pulled his hand away from his face.

“You’ve really been fighting this all day? No wonder you’ve been in such a mood! Stop rubbing, you’ll only make your nose raw. It’s already well on the way.”

It was true, his nose was now a shade of pink that Tav struggled not to see as rather fetching. She watched as it wrinkled in irritation, nostrils flaring with a hopeless sniffle, and quickly turned her mind to a solution, before she could get too swept up enjoying the problem.

“Let me help. You’ll have no peace until you can get a good sneeze out.”

Even mentioning the word set Astarion into another bout of desperate hitching.

“HHh! Hhah… Hh! Hh! Hhn… Ugh! Whatever you mean to do, kindly get on with it!”

Tav tried not to squirm. What did she mean to do? She felt about in her pockets… A folded letter, an empty poison vial, a handful of dried herbs… A feather, picked up after a memorable encounter with some harpies. Taking it from her pocket, Tav turned to face the suffering vampire, and as he turned to face her too, raised a hand to cup his cheek, steadying him. She couldn’t help but lightly brush his nose with her thumb, testing its sensitivity. Not much testing was required.

Astarion almost pulled away, his nose twitching, nostrils flaring, dragging in another desperate breath.

“HhhhHHAH! Damn it all, if you’re going to do this, don’t tease, get to the point!”

“Alright. Hold still.”

Mouth dry, trying not to squirm, Tav raised the feather. It was a small thing, fluffy, and it fluttered with each unsteady breath as she brought it to Astarion’s nose, and gently began stroking it beneath his twitching nostrils.

It was torment to them both. Astarion gasped and trembled, and a tear streamed down his cheek from the sheer irritation. His lips parted, fangs bared in a snarl of pure agony, and he unthinkingly reached for Tav, his trembling hand coming to rest on her thigh. Unable to keep from squirming a little now, Tav quickened her movements, brushing the feather back and forth with quick, ticklish flicks.

“HHhaahh-HhAA! Hhh-HH-Hhhn… Hhm? HhAAAH-AH.. Damn it to hells, it’s worse!”

Tav swallowed dryly, and moved her hand to the back of his head, preventing him from pulling away. His nostrils were beginning to look rather damp, and if she didn’t go in for the kill, the feather was going to end up quite useless.

“Bear with me. It’ll be over before you know it.”

A quick flick of her fingers, and she poked the feather into one delicate nostril. At the unexpected intrusion, Astarion gave a terrible, flustered snort, and for a moment Tav was sure he was undone. Tears now streamed from both eyes, his nose wrinkled and wriggled desperately in an attempt to purge the dreadful tickle, and his breathing was too desperate and erratic to even form words. Once, twice, three times he seemed on the point of no return, and his hand gripped her thigh like it was the only thing keeping him steady.

And then it was fading again. His eyes barely opened enough to give her a desperate look.

“… Hhh-HhAhh.. Please!”

Too determined now to even feel the flush on her cheeks, Tav worked the feather deeper, twitching it erratically, hoping to find that one spot that would bring relief. Quick, pointed twitches, seeking out the weak point in that long-suffering nose, deeper and deeper…

A sudden, flustered sniffle drew the feather deeper still, and it was done.

“HHHHRAASCHH!”

Tav drew back her hand in shock, the feather coming with it, as Astarion lurched forward in another desperate sneeze. And another, and another.

“HHRAAASHOO! HHhhhHSHOO! Hh-HH-HHSHOO!”

They burst out of him, one after another, the floodgates open after a day of torment, and all Tav could do was sit and watch, a steadying hand on his back, as he hitched and shuddered and sneezed as if his long-suffering nose could never be satisfied.

“HHRASCHH! RrrASCHOO! ‘SCHHOO! H-HHRASCHOO! HHh… HhhHH!”

“That’s it, get it all out… Gods, you were fighting this all day?”

Astarion’s face was a picture of misery, tears streaming down his cheeks, lashes damp, nose red and streaming and twitching and relentlessly sneezing.

“HSSCHOO! HRAAASHOO! Hh-HH-HHARASCHOO!”

Tav lost count of how many sneezes burst out of the poor vampire, but it was a display the likes of which she had never seen before. By the time the sneezes finally began to slow, she was almost trembling, her own breath decidedly unsteady. Forcing herself to remember that it wasn’t her own relief she was seeking, she rubbed Astarion’s back soothingly as he shuddered with breathy, increasingly exhausted sneezes.

“Well done. That’s it, just relax and let them happen. Feeling better?”

At last, with a final, exhausted “Hhahhshoo!”, Astarion let out a shaky breath, and opened teary eyes. He gave an extremely hesitant sniffle, as if worried he might set himself off again, and gave a deep sigh of relief.

“Well! That certainly scratched an itch! Erm… Do you happen to have…”

He gave a series of rather wet sniffles, one hand belatedly coming up to block his face from view. Shaken from her daze, Tav hastily searched her pockets once again, coming up with a handkerchief. She pressed it into Astarion’s hand, and turned away to give him a moment’s privacy while he put it to use.

After a series of wet, desperate nose-blows and sniffles, Astarion mopped his streaming eyes, and turned to Tav with a somewhat embarrassed expression.

“You do have your uses, don’t you, darling? Thank you. And… Ah… If we could perhaps keep this little moment between ourselves?”

“Of course,” Tav replied, a little too quickly, hoping the flush on her cheeks wasn’t as bright red as it felt. “I hope you feel better? Having to get all of that out for so long must have been maddening!”

“Ugh, you’ve no idea! Felt like every breath I was inhaling pure pepper, and with no relief in sight!”

Freed from irritation at last, he finally turned his attention to her properly, and his lips curved into a smile.

“And speaking of relief… Well, well… You look as if you could use some yourself, darling? That little episode certainly felt good for me. It would be unfair if I didn’t offer a little satisfaction in return.”

His hand was still on her thigh, and he raised his other hand to gently brush a lock of hair behind Tav’s ear, before lightly pulling her closer.

“My, my… So worked up, over… this?”

He leaned in to kiss her, lightly enough to leave her wanting more, and as his nose brushed against hers, it twitched with another sniffle. Tav couldn’t hold back a moan.

“I really did just want to help…”

“And you did, my darling. Now let me thank you for it.”

Another kiss, and the hand on her thigh crept higher, slender, dextrous fingers setting to work on her belt. Breaking the kiss in order to breathe, Astarion leaned in to murmur in her ear.

“Just promise me one thing?”

“Of course.”

“Who knows how long we’ll be trekking through this spore riddled hellscape? Just… Promise me you’ll keep that feather close?”

[apalestar]

@never-surrender sent It wasn't often that Halsin got the chance to leave the Grove and bask in the beauty the great oak father provided in the forests around, but when he does, he took full advantage. He expected a chance to unwind, to have alone time. What he DIDNT expect was to run into somebody else hunting either. "Apologies my friend. I didn't realize there were others hunting in the area.." he didn't mention the man looked ill fitted for hunting.

Oh shit.

Caught in the midst of a vulnerable moment of blood induced euphoria. The stag’s blood smeared across his chin from his feeding. Back presented to this intrusion to his meal. Were his heart capable, it would be beating rabbit fast in his chest. Perhaps rightfully so, people did terrible things to vampires. Stakes. Beheadings. Any sort of not so pretty death awaited his kind. He had reason to be fearful.

Astarion was particularly keen to remain alive. Now his mind was clear. His eyes no longer gleamed blood red-orange in his master’s compulsions. From Baldur’s Gate he fled. Ran and ran until hunger drove him to hunt. To replenish lost resources. The stag one of two meals he imbibed since his departure. Quickly, his hand swiped away at the crimson on his face. The sleeve of his ruined attire soaked the remainder. A facade of normality for the man who found him. He repressed the instinct to lash out with his stolen dagger coated in the creature’s blood. Without an idea if the man was alone, a preemptive strike seemed a terribly rash decision.

He stood, brushing the dirt from his pants. A pivot on his heel to finally determine the identity of his interloper. An elf. A large one at that dressed rather curiously. A wood elf? He spotted them as occasional visitors to the Gate. Were he under Cazador still; a perfect target.

As for him? The road had not been kind to the garments he was adorned in whilst escaping. The gold embroidery unraveling in places. His sleeves frayed at the edges. His pants torn where brambles and thorns snagged and ripped. What a sight he must make like a completely desperate vagabond. A part he hoped to play to the fullest extent. He painted his expression with a curve of a smile on his lips. “Yes, well, no harm done as you can tell. I doubt his brethren are still around.”

The stag was practically mutilated from how he butchered the whole hunt. Fell it by jumping from a tree onto its back. Not his wisest idea, but he was starving. “You came from a nearby town?” He inquired.

Without a map to guide him, Astarion had no way of knowing where he was let alone how close to any kind of civilization.

[ishtadawnstar]

Trust

The world exploded into existence as Astarion jolted awake, his senses immediately on high alert. The forest enveloped him with its oppressive darkness, shadows twisting and swirling among the trees like malevolent spirits.

A knot of fear gripped his chest as he struggled to recall why he was here, alone in the cold stillness of the night. The earthy scent of damp leaves and moss permeated the air, mingling with the coppery tang of blood - his own. He tried to sit up, but a firm pressure on his shoulder pushed him back down.

"Ah! No, you don't," a commanding voice echoed in the silence. "Sit back down and let that wound finish healing. If you make it bleed, so help me, I will knock you out again."

The pain radiating from his side brought back memories of the recent events - his encounter with Shadowheart and his desperate escape through the darkness. Groaning, Astarion leaned back against the rough texture of the tree trunk and looked up at the speaker. Ishta perched above him, her expression stern and unwavering. One knee tucked under her chin while the other leg dangled, her foot resting on his shoulder.

Astarion couldn't help feeling unsettled by how composed she seemed in his presence. Her golden eyes, usually filled with lazy charm, now gleamed with determination. It was clear that the truth about his nature was not much of a surprise to Ishta. He was painfully aware that she held all the power in this situation.

"How long have you known?" he asked wearily, his voice strained.

"That you are an idiot? About an hour," Ishta retorted, nonchalantly removing her foot from his shoulder and crossing her legs.

Astarion scowled at her but she paid no attention. "That you are a Vampire... about a week," she shrugged, her tone dismissive.

He couldn't hide his shock at her words and she gave him a wry smile in response. "I happened to be out hunting at night the same time as you. We were both after the same boar... You got there first."

Ishta gracefully slid down from her perch and sat beside him. Astarion couldn't help but admire her boldness, the way she carried herself with a confidence that bordered on recklessness.

She didn't seem to fear him at all, which both intrigued and unnerved him. He also couldn't ignore the small dagger she was twirling around in her hand - a not-so-subtle reminder of her prowess.

Ishta noticed his eyes on her blade and grinned. "Though at first I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out why you were trying to hug it to death."

Despite himself, Astarion chuckled softly, the sound laced with bitterness and pain. The movement caused a wave of agony to pulse through him and he winced. Gods... you'd think after enduring 200 years of torture I'd be used to this by now. His body, despite its undead resilience, still had its limits.

Ishta chided him gently, her voice tinged with concern. "Try not to move too much until the spell has had enough time to properly do its job."

He turned slowly, his eyes flickering with a mix of curiosity and wariness as they met hers. "Why are you helping me?" he asked cautiously.

Ishta paused her playful twirling of the dagger and regarded him thoughtfully. Her eyes took on a distant look, as if she were searching through memories and emotions to find the right words. A part of him feared what she might say, but he needed to know.

"Because I suffer from a terrible condition," she replied solemnly. "I've been told countless times that it will eventually kill me."

Alarm bells rang in Astarion's head. Shit... she must believe I am a True Vampire who can grant her immortality. Why else would she save my life...

"It's called a bleeding heart."

Her words startled him for a moment, and then a slow smile of comprehension spread across his face. Turning to look at Ishta, his eyes met hers, and he saw the glimmer of amusement in them.

She continued, her tone casual and confiding, "It's a terrible disease, really. I see people in trouble, and I just have this overwhelming urge to help them."

Astarion felt his whole body relax as he finally understood he had never been in any danger from Ishta - she truly didn't care about what he was.

"Sounds awful," he grinned at her, the tension melting away from his features.

—¤—

Ishta watched as a wave of emotion passed over Astarion's face, finally settling into something resembling trust. Observing the stiffness start to leave his posture as he gave her his full attention, she felt it was now safe to relax herself. Astarion had always responded well to humor and banter, so she decided to keep going with her playful 'explanation' to his question.

"It really is," she complained, shaking her head with exaggerated exasperation. "You have no idea how inconvenient it is to have to drop everything and help some poor Wizard out from inside a rock, save a grumpy Githyanki from a Goblin trap, or give up on a decent night's rest to race after some poor sod who's gone and gotten himself stabbed by an irate Cleric."

A slight smile tugged at the corners of Astarion's lips, and Ishta could see the tension draining from his body. He leaned back against the sturdy trunk of a tree, appearing more relaxed and at ease. For a moment, he seemed like his old self as he played along with her rant, nodding understandingly.

"I entirely agree, that does sound like an absolutely debilitating disease," he sympathized with a playful twinkle in his eye.

Feeling encouraged by his lifted spirits, Ishta leaned forward, resting her elbow on one knee and propping up her chin. "By the way, why did you try to take a bite out of Shadowheart?" she asked curiously, tilting her head in his direction.

A hint of tension returned to Astarion's body at the mention of his recent actions. His eyes locked onto hers as he struggled to find the right words. Ishta kept her gaze steady and non-threatening, observing the myriad of emotions crossing Astarion's face - confusion, guilt, fear - before he finally settled on resignation. He sighed and lowered his head, the weight of his actions heavy on his shoulders.

"It's not what you think. I'm not some monster," he muttered, his voice thick with regret. "I usually feed on animals. Boars, deer, kobolds - whatever I can find. I'm just too slow right now, too weak. I thought if I only had a little blood, I could think clearer, fight better. So I tried to take some from Shadowheart."

A small spark of defiance ignited in Astarion's eyes as he looked up at Ishta, pleading for understanding. "I wasn't going to hurt her, I swear. I just needed blood. But then she woke and attacked me - I had to defend myself, you understand."

Ishta held his gaze for a moment before speaking again, her thoughts racing as she remembered the bruises on Shadowheart's neck. Those marks go beyond self-defense. However, she chose not to voice her observation for now. Instead, she focused on a more pressing matter.

"Bullshit, Astarion."

"I beg your pardon?" he blinked at her, taken aback.

"You heard me. I've seen you with that bow of yours. You could hunt half the beasts in this forest without ever breaking a sweat. So what's the real reason you suddenly decided to change up your menu?" Ishta asked bluntly, her tone cutting through the night air like a blade.

Astarion's expression shifted from shock to defense, and Ishta worried that she may have pushed too far too soon. She could see him starting to retreat, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape route. Realizing the need to tread carefully now to maintain control over the situation, Ishta softened her tone and reassured him.

"Astarion, please listen to me. I am not angry with you," she said gently. "I understand why you felt the need to keep this secret from us all. I just want to know why you risked exposing yourself and potentially turning us against you by choosing Shadowheart instead of the abundant game within these very woods."

Astarion focused on her again, and Ishta could see his jaw grinding under the weight of whatever decision he was trying to make.

The sounds of the forest at night grew louder in the tense silence between them, filling the air with rustling leaves, chirping insects, and the occasional hoot of an owl. Shafts of moonlight filtered through the thick canopy above, causing Astarion's eyes to glow like two crimson pools.

After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally broke the silence with a heavy sigh. "I needed to know," he said, his voice laced with frustration.

Ishta waited patiently for him to continue, noticing how uncomfortable he seemed as he shifted around. Whatever he was about to reveal clearly weighed heavily on his mind, but she remained calm and collected, knowing that her patience would be rewarded.

Eventually, Astarion spoke again, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. "I am a Spawn. My... former master, Cazador Szarr, is a Vampire Lord in Baldur's Gate. The patriarch of his coven and a monster obsessed with power. Not political power or military power - I mean power over people. The power to control them completely. He turned me nearly two hundred years ago. I became his Spawn, and he became my tormentor."

Ishta sat up straighter, wondering if she should share what she already knew of his story, but ultimately decided against it. It was clear that he was finally opening up to her and she didn't want to interrupt or jeopardize that trust.

"So you were his slave?" she asked gently.

Astarion shook his head. "A Vampire's Spawn is less than a slave. They're a puppet. We have no choice but to obey our master's commands. They speak, and our bodies react... it's all part of the deal. Sometimes he'd order us to submit to torture. Sometimes he'd have us torture ourselves. Whatever his weathervane mood settled on," he said bitterly.

As he spoke, Astarion's eyes became distant and withdrawn, clearly reliving the horrors of his past. After what she had witnessed when her mind had linked with his all those nights ago, she couldn't blame him for being hesitant to re-live such traumatic experiences. She knew all too well the feeling of trying to bury painful memories deep within.

Leaning forward, Astarion's voice became more animated. "But ever since I was kidnapped by the Mindflayers and implanted with this worm, I have been living in a strange, twisted kind of freedom. Standing in the sun, wading through rivers, wandering into homes without an invitation - they are all perfectly mundane activities now. More importantly though, I no longer feel the pull of Cazador's hold over me..." Astarion trailed off and leaned back wearily. "At least not until tonight," he admitted quietly.

The hair on the back of Ishta's neck stood up. Now this could be a problem.

Astarion must have noticed her concern because he quickly continued. "I had a... well, a dream - or perhaps it was a vision of him earlier tonight. I could see him as clearly as I see you now. He was reminding me that I still belonged to him and reciting those damn rules."

"Rules?" Ishta raised an eyebrow in question.

Astarion held up his hand and began counting off on his fingers. "First, thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures. Second, thou shalt obey me in all things. Thirdly, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed. Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine forever."

As Ishta listened to Astarion recite the first rule, everything fell into place. Knowing what she did of Vampires, the first rule made perfect sense. A Vampire's power was derived from the strength of their victims - not their physical strength, but the level of intellect and life experience that only sentient beings could provide. Animals and other lesser beasts simply could not offer the same levels of power, and if this Cazador was so obsessed with controlling people, it came as no surprise that he would force his spawn to feed on inferior beings to keep them weak and subservient.

"Thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures..." Ishta repeated slowly, giving Astarion a half-smile. "So that's why you did it."

The look of surprise on his face quickly turned to begrudging admiration, confirming her theory.

Pushing herself forward and standing up, Ishta walked a few steps away, the soft earth crunching under her feet. Spinning around and placing her hands on her hips, she confronted Astarion.

"So let me get this straight," she began sternly, her voice carrying authority. "You attacked one of my team - while she was sleeping, by the way, you jerk - and risked being thrown out into the wilds alone at best," she gestured to the surrounding forest, "and being staked in the heart at worst, all just so you could give the middle finger to your old master?"

A hint of guilt flashed across Astarion's features before he replied hesitantly, "Well... uh... when you put it like that..."

Ishta watched him come to terms with just how much of a risk he had taken and sighed inwardly. If the Illithid parasite doesn't kill him first, his own recklessness will. She could understand his desire to test the limits of his newfound freedom, but his rash actions had almost ended it prematurely. As resourceful and capable as he was, Astarion clearly still needed the protection and guidance of allies. Ishta just hoped she could convince the others waiting for her in camp that he was still worth protecting. Though, if she was being honest with herself, she wasn't entirely sure of that fact either.

Then, like a lightning bolt, an idea sparked in her head. A final test to determine just how far Astarion could still be trusted. It was a dangerous plan, one that filled her with trepidation and dredged up unwelcome memories. But Ishta pushed those thoughts aside, determined to see this through.

Stepping forward and crouching directly in front of him, she extended her arm and turned over her wrist, exposing the veins beneath. "Well, that's something I can get behind," she said with a wry smile.

Yeah... this is why you should never make important decisions while you're hungry.

[tabitha42]

The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 7

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

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She woke to the feeling of a hand gently rubbing her shoulder. 

Groaning, she rolled over slightly to face the owner of the hand, squinting as she gradually opened her eyes. At first she wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but when she saw that familiar smile and warm, brown eyes, somehow getting up didn’t feel like such an impossible task. 

“Morning, Saff,” Gale said softly, giving her time to come round. “Mmmph… morning…” she groaned, summoning the strength to sit up. 

“How are you?” 

“Been better…” 

“Perhaps this will help.” 

He reached over and picked up a plate full of cooked meat, bread and fresh fruit, along with a glass of juice, courtesy of the grove. The smell alone was enough to bring a smile to her face. She thanked him as she took the plate and began eating. 

“The others will be heading off soon,” he informed her, glancing back out the tent. “They wanted to know you were alright before leaving.” 

She smiled to herself, appreciating their concern. 

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be out.” 

He nodded and left the tent to rejoin the others. 

Gale had been right - the breakfast certainly had made her feel better. She was a bit light-headed perhaps, but mostly fine. She left the tent and found them armoured up and pretty much ready to go, just making a few last-minute preparations. 

“Ah, you’re awake,” Wyll said happily as she joined them. 

“There, you see? Told you she’d be fine,” Astarion said, ignoring the rolled eyes and slight glares from the others. He waited a moment to see if anyone else had anything to say to her, before heading over. 

“You are fine, aren’t you?” he asked, keeping his voice down so the others couldn’t hear. 

“I’ll live,” she answered with a small shrug. “And how are you? Still feeling… happy?”

“More than you know.” Before last night she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him look genuine, but he certainly was being genuine now. 

“I… wanted to thank you. Not many would have been as understanding as you.” 

She looked at him sympathetically, seeing this more vulnerable side of him. 

“Why didn’t you tell us earlier?” 

“I thought you’d all be brandishing stakes if I did. Not many will accept a vampire spawn in their midsts.”

“I suppose you’re not wrong…” She wondered what life must be like for him, to be hunted by society. “So you’re a spawn, not a full vampire?” 

“Indeed. All of the drawbacks with few of the benefits.” 

“Is that why you’ve never fed on a human before?” 

“No. That would be because my master never allowed it,” he said, his voice thick with bitterness. 

“Your master?” she asked, and he grimaced at having to say the name.

“Cazador. A vampire lord in Baldur’s Gate. He saved my life by turning me, but after he did I became his plaything. Tortured for his amusement. And he would sooner see me feeding on putrid rats than humans.”

“Oh… gods…” she whispered in horror, her eyes widening. 200 years of torture? She had no idea his past was like this. Suddenly she understood why he’d never wanted to talk about himself much before. 

“But I’m free now,” he continued, not wanting to linger on the horrors of his past. “And I intend to make the most of that freedom while I can.” 

She looked at him and saw he was being completely truthful. He was finally given the chance to live after 200 years of torture, and he fully intended to use it. Her heart went out to him - she couldn’t even begin to imagine what he must have gone through. 

“Astarion…” she whispered sadly, wanting to offer her sympathies, but she knew he didn’t want to linger on his past, so she wouldn’t either. “Listen… if you ever need to feed and no one else will let you… come to me.” 

He looked rather surprised by that offer. 

“Are you sure? Given the others’ reactions that could be… quite often.” 

“I’m sure. I can handle a bit of a headache if it means you finally get to be happy after 200 years.” 

She saw in his expression not only how shocked he was by that offer, but how touched he was, too. 

“Thank you…” he said softly, genuinely. “This is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.” 

She gave him a smile, holding his gaze for a moment, before suddenly remembering something. 

“Oh! And I wanted to ask. I know you don’t know exactly what’s going on, but… Gale’s blood…” 

“Oh, that,” he said, the old smirk coming back to his lips. “That was an unexpected turn of events, wasn’t it? Unfortunately as you say, I don’t know what’s going on, other than that there’s something wrong with him.” She looked visibly concerned by that. 

“Like, what? Do you think it could be a disease? A curse?”

“Perhaps, I suppose. But I’ve been a vampire for 200 years and I’ve never heard of anyone with blood like that before,” he replied, looking over at Gale, who was across the camp talking to Wyll. “I know this is rich coming from me, but darling… be careful of him.” 

The seriousness of his tone caught her off guard. 

“You… really think he could be dangerous?” she asked disbelievingly. 

“Anyone keeping secrets is dangerous.” 

“You kept secrets from us.” “And I’m very dangerous,” he said with a playful, maybe even flirty, smile. 

Behind them the others began to congregate and look towards Astarion. 

“Ah, I think it’s time to go,” he said, walking over to them. “Ta-ta, darlings.”

The others said their goodbyes and soon the group was on their way, leaving Saff and Gale alone. She watched them leave with a heavy heart, lingering long after the group had disappeared into the trees. 

“How do adventurers live like this every day…” she whispered, still watching the trees. “Watching their friends walk off, knowing they might never come back?” 

“You must have faith in them,” Gale said, walking over to her. “They can handle themselves, Saff. Don’t worry. Goblins are no match for them. Wyll is a seasoned adventurer, Lae’zel is a trained warrior, Shadowheart has the magic of her god flowing through her and Astarion… well, vampires are hard to kill.”

“Spawn,” she corrected. “Hm?”

“He’s a vampire spawn. Not a full vampire.” 

“Ah… well, that explains some of the questions I had. How do you know that?” 

“He told me.” 

She finally took her eyes off the trees and turned to Gale. 

“How much do you know about his past?” 

“Only what he said last night.”

She went quiet and looked back towards the trees, wondering whether or not to tell him what Astarion had told her. 

“Are you ok?” he asked, seeing the pain in her eyes. 

“Yes. He… told me some stuff earlier, about what had happened to him. He’s gone through a lot more than I realised. I would tell you, but… it’s not really my place.” “Of course, I understand,” he said, though he couldn’t help but wonder. Clearly whatever it was it had shaken her. 

“I… told him to come to me if no one else let him feed on them. That he could always feed on me if he needed to.” 

Gale looked just as surprised by that as Astarion had. 

“Are you quite sure you want to do that??”

“Yes,” she said firmly, looking over at him. “What’s a headache against his need to eat?” 

Gale went quiet and looked away slightly. 

“I… don’t begrudge him what he is. We all have our burdens, one way or the other…” he said quietly, more sympathetically than she’d expected. He then looked back to her. 

“Just be careful. Don’t let him take advantage of you.” 

“I won’t,” she said with a smile, appreciating his concern. 

“And make sure someone is always there. We don’t want him getting ‘swept up in the moment’ again.” 

“Please don’t be angry at him for that. It wasn’t his fault,” she asked, taking a step towards him. “He’d never fed on a human before. If I’d spent 200 years eating rotting meat and was finally given some real food, I think I’d find it hard to control myself too.” 

He sighed slightly, begrudgingly agreeing with her.

“I… understand why he reacted like that. Truly I do. I’m more angry at him for trying to bite you in the first place. If you hadn’t woken up and he’d had no one to stop him getting ‘swept up’...” 

He trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid, but she could see how much the thought worried him. She walked up to him and gently placed a hand on his arm. 

“Gale, it’s ok. I’m fine,” she said softly, giving him a reassuring smile. He looked at her, a look of fear in his deep, brown eyes… til he managed to return the smile.

“You’re right. And it doesn’t do to dwell on what could have been,” he decided, taking a deep breath to rid himself of those thoughts. Saff smiled, glad he wasn’t going to linger on that.

“Exactly! Now, if you’ll give me 10 minutes to get properly dressed, I’ll be ready for today’s lessons.”

He nodded and headed back to his tent as she headed off to get dressed. A small pile of books was beginning to grow outside his tent that he’d taken from the various places they’d been through, and he took the opportunity to start reading one. 

Normally he’d be annoyed if someone disturbed his reading, but this time he was more than happy about the interruption. 

“Ah, all ready?” he asked as he stood up. 

“I am indeed! So what’s today’s first lesson then, Mr…” she trailed off a bit as she realised she didn’t know his surname. “Mr… Of Waterdeep,” she settled on, prompting a hell of a laugh from him. “My surname,” he managed eventually, “is Dekarios.” 

“Ah, Mr Dekarios then,” she said, though he didn’t seem very happy with that. “Hmm… you know, I do hold several degrees. I’m pretty sure that should be Professor Dekarios.” 

“Oh! Should it now?” she half-gasped half-laughed. That might be the most pompous thing he’d ever said, and there was quite some competition there. “Really getting into the roleplay now, are we?” 

“Actually… I know someone who often calls me Mr Dekarios and, well… it feels a bit weird hearing it come from you,” he admitted. 

“Oh, I see,” she said, somewhat relieved he wasn’t quite as pompous as she’d thought he was. “Dare I ask who that is?” 

“My… companion, Tara,” he answered. She couldn’t help but notice the hesitation. 

“Your… companion?” she asked, hoping her face wasn’t giving away just how she felt upon hearing that. 

“Yes. She’s my oldest friend, my dearest confidant. She was my teacher for a long time, in fact, when I was younger. I owe a great deal of my magical knowledge to her,” he explained. 

Saff couldn’t help but notice how gushing he was about her, and tried not to feel uneasy about it. 

“I see. I’m surprised you’ve never mentioned her if she means that much to you…” she muttered, sounding just a tad more bitter than she intended. Luckily for her Gale didn’t seem to notice. 

“Actually, I think I did mention her, shortly after we first met.” 

She paused, wracking her brain to try to think of when he’d mentioned her. Then, her eyes widened. 

“Oh my god, are you… are you talking about your cat??” she gasped, laughing at the absurdity of it all. Had she truly been jealous of a cat? 

“She is not just any cat! She’s actually a tressym, I’ll have you know.” Her eyes widened even further. 

“You have a tressym?!” Gale couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction. “Why did you say she was a cat??” 

“Well, most people don’t know what a tressym is, so it’s easier just to say cat,” he said with a shrug. 

“And why did you awkwardly call her your ‘companion’?” she asked, still laughing slightly. 

“Because… most people think it’s a bit weird to have such respect for your pets,” he admitted, sounding a bit embarrassed. 

“Well most people are idiots,” she said bluntly, prompting another laugh from him. “I’ve always wanted to see a tressym in real life…” she mused longingly. She’d read about them, seen plenty of drawings, but never seen one in person.

“If we get out of this whole ordeal alive, I’d love for you to come meet Tara,” he said, a soft warmth in his voice that bought a smile to her lips. 

“Hmm, I suppose meeting a tressym would be worth going to Waterdeep for,” she teased, which made him laugh. 

“Indeed it would be, especially a tressym like Tara. Now, I think we’ve spent long enough talking, it’s about time we got on.” 

“Ah, yes! So, Professor Dekarios, what’s the first lesson?” 

The morning passed mostly practising cantrips, and by the end she’d got pretty good at them. They took a break while Gale made lunch (Saff did offer to help, but he insisted he didn’t need it and said she should rest instead), and come the afternoon they were ready to start on some 1st level spells.

“De-to-no,” Gale said, slowly and clearly. “De-to-no,” she repeated carefully. “Detono.” 

“Perfect. Now, the somatic component. Watch my movements carefully. Make sure you get the fingers right, it’s all in the details.”

She watched as he slowly replicated the required movement, then tried replicating it herself. 

“Arms higher, fingers out… good. Now, put it all together, and…” 

He turned to the three large sticks they’d wedged into the sand in front of him and raised his arms. 

“Detono!” 

The clap of thunder was joined with a gust of wind that tugged at her hair and clothes, even though she was well out of range of the spell. The three sticks went flying off into the river, along with a fairly significant amount of sand and stones. 

As the wind died down again, he turned to her. “Now you try.” 

She turned to the second set of sticks in the ground in front of her. Slowly she raised her hands and took a deep breath. “Detono!” 

Nothing happened. “Keep trying. No one gets a spell the first time. Except me, of course.” 

She scoffed and shook her head. 

“Are you always so full of yourself?” “Only when it’s warranted.” 

“You’re insufferable.” 

“You seem to have suffered me well enough so far.” 

“True, there was a lot of suffering.” 

He couldn’t even come up with a good response to that and just made a noise in objection. She flashed him a playful smile, then turned back to the sticks. “Detono!” 

A slight wind, a hint of static. “Yes! Keep going,” he encouraged, and she did so. Again, and again, and again. Each time the wind picked up more and gradually the static started to audibly crackle. 

A noise echoed in the distance. 

“What was tha-”

“Shh,” he hissed, listening out for it again. 

Once more it came, louder this time. A strange noise, like an animal, but not one either of them recognised. High pitched, a sort of whine or winnie… whatever it was, it was getting closer, and it didn’t sound friendly.

[goddness-lunafreya]

Philrath Headcanon - As the Companions Come My PoV

So, after seeing many people doing this, I had the courage and desire to do it too. Inspired by the posts Write your Tav (other characters' POV edition) and My Tav (Tyrael) Headcanons, I decided to make this post. Let's see what the Companions think of our Half-Dragon? Meet more about Philrath

Shadowhear

"Philrath is...Curious. But not in a bad way. Of course, when I met her I thought she was strange, but she was kind to me, to all of us. Sometimes I think we didn't deserve it. Her being the daughter of a dragon was strange to accept, but I soon got used to it. In the end I think I understand her, she was alone for so many years, away from her family... I hope she feels good where she is now."

Lae'zel

"The dragon hybrid exceeded my expectations. Maybe they weren't tall, but Philrath proved to be more than just a pretty face. She fought bravely! When I saw her fly in her direction, spitting the end of her enemies onto the ice, I understood why she was hiding, and I admired her. But she doesn't need to hide, she'll be the dragon when she needs to be, and we'll be here to make sure no bastard locks her up again! I may not agree with everything she does... she's still a sentimental fool. But I see a warrior in her eyes."

Gale

"Philrath is unique. What can I say? I would love to study her magic more calmly. I understand exactly how dragon magic flows so well in a hybrid's body, but I'm afraid of getting bitten! Well... I wouldn't just get one..." (Referring to the vampire) "Anyway, I'm glad she trusts us enough to expose herself. It's difficult... Explaining when you have something dangerous in you. I confess that looking at it from this angle, damn, it makes sense that she ignored me... A dragon is a little too much for me..." (He takes a goddess and still says that...). "Better to leave her with someone who understands these wilder things."

Karlach

"She is amazing! Seriously, she, like, even tried to touch my hand when I asked. We almost gave her a thermal shock, poor thing, but did she accept it? Serious. She's crazy! But... I adore her. I would hate to see her arrested, when she told me I... I was devastated. I'm going to kick those hunters' asses! She protected me... I must do the same. It's almost as if she were a little sister... A little sister who turns into a fucking dragon, but a little sister."

Halsin

"Philrath... Sometimes I let slip from my lips a nickname, 'Little Dragon'. That's what she is. She's small for a dragon, but she must have her heart in the right place, more so than most of them... When she asked me to train her, I was embarrassed. I didn't see myself in a position to do that, but she opened up and said how scared she is of hurting people, transformed... I know what that's like. Even I, an experienced person, I feel fear when I transform into a bear over unstable emotions, imagine her, a dragon. But she is safe now, in our arms, with Silvanus and protected in the embrace of her soulmate. I will be here if she needs extra arms for the hug ." (A not so innocent joke)

Astarion

"Oh, Philrath? My Darling? What do I say... I don't want to expose her too much, but she's a delight. But I think that before I talk about how wonderful she is carnally, I should say how much she... Trusted me. See, you let me bite you. She gave me company at night. It was a sweet voice for when I got nervous. She did crazy things, oh how crazy things, for me! And... I never wanted anything in return. She just... loved me. Honestly, I don't want to break up with her! I don't care if she has scales, or if she turns into a dragon, or if she's hunted by maniacs? But so what?? I have my own maniac to kill. So what?? I'd love to do this with her... And I'd love to return the favor." (Post Cazador, they will apparently have no rest.)

Wyll

"Philrath... She's not a monster. I know it's weird to start like this, but everyone says that! She says this about herself. And she's not a monster. It's just a... Person who has suffered his whole life and wants to live! Damn, if it's difficult for me now that I have this pair of horns, imagine she's had them since birth. I feel sorry, but I want to help her. The Blade of Frontiers has promised to protect those in need, and she does. Philrath could only abandon everything and everyone, live in seclusion, feel angry. But look at her here... Making us happy with songs and dances and saving little children. She is not a monster. Monsters are those who gave her that title."

Tag List: (Thank you!) @spacebarbarianweird @vixstarria

[flowersdaggersviolasandblood]

Assassin with a Heart of Gold

Name: Admaer Daeneiros (He/Him)

Race: High Elf

Class: Rogue (Assassin)

Background: Criminal

Inspiration & Story: This lil guy I made long before I even touched BG3. He was originally made for a Out of the Abyss game that was unfortunately dropped. So his story was prematurely ended. The main inspo for this character is that he's an asshole with a soft heart. A tsundere hoe who thinks the don't care, but they actually do.

The main concept of his backstory is that he was born and raised a slave, more or less. At a young age, his Elven mother gave him up to a poor Human family. Only for that family to sell him away for money. He spent the majority of his life being bounced around by different slave owners, doing various different jobs that were asked of him. Eventually, his skills were so polished that he did better as a hired killer and assassin. He eventually escapes his enslavement and is on the hunt to kill every slave owner who ever owned him.

Below will related to his story so far within BG3.

WARNING, SPOILERS AHEAD!

Admaer isn't a native in Baldur's Gate, but he was quite obviously in the city when the Mindflayers snatched him up. He was (and still is) on a hunt to go after the man who made his life a living hell. For the purposes of this game, that end goal for Admaer is killing Lord Enver Gortash.

While on the Nautiloid, he opt to not save Shadowheart since the ship was quickly sinking. After the fact, he would meet her again and recruit her in the group. He would do the same with Astarion, Lae'zel, and Wyll. As for Gale, because the portal seemed dangerous, he saw no need to interfere with it.

Admaer's mind right now, aside from his own personal goals, is to get rid of the Mindflayer tadpole within his head. So upon entering the Emerald Grove, he's been largely dismissive of the Tieflings' blight and the Druids wanting to kick them out. However, the small inklings of the Druid Halsin has slightly peaked his interest. He's yet to meet kagha and Nettie.

Companion Relationships:

Astarion: Since EA (Early Access) Astarion was always my number one pick for this character, so he's obviously the "End Game Girl." Right now, in the context of the story, Admaer still doesn't know that Astarion is a vampire. However, both being fellow roguish men, Admaer currently is friendly with Astarion. Though he has noticed that Astarion has been feeling a little slow as of late.

Shadowheart: Admaer is also friendly with Shadowheart, though he is more distrusting of her than he should be of Lae'zel. Shadowhearts' constant bashing against the Githyanki has Admaer questioning why that is the case and if she's hiding any shit of her own. Especially since she's yet to come forth about the mysterious bauble she keeps on her person. If there's one thing he does agree with, it's that they need to find someone who can get rid of the tadpole.

Lae'zel: Not vibing with her condescending attitude, but respecting that she's not afraid to break a few bones to get the job done. Funnily enough, I accidentally appealed to her so much that she offered to fuck him XD. Admaer politely declined, though he did get some insight on what her history was like as a Githyanki warrior serving the Lich Queen, Vlaakith. Admaer is a little bit more on board with going to the Gith Creche since Lae'zel has been forth coming about what the next steps should be. Compared to Shadowhearts suggestion of just finding a healer. You know, in the middle of nowhere.

Gale: Mentioned this earlier, but when he found the unstable sigil, Admaer decided to leave it alone. So no opinion on Gale yet.

Wyll: Admear see's Wyll as a typical "do-gooder" type individual. He's even more confused as to why he's more focused on his search for Karlach than the tadpole they both possess in their head. He allows him to camp with his crew, seeing no point in not including the famed Blade of Frontiers. Especially, if his status holds true, he could utilize his fame to get themselves into the good graces of some important people.

Karlach: He hasn't met her yet. Right now, all he has is Wylls word: She's some sort of Devil who's out murdering innocents.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Widower Astarion Headcanons

Ok, we wanted pain - I bring you pain. @astarionsbeloved @wickedwitchofthewilds @sleepykitty21 @starlight-ipomoea

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion isn't an idiot; he knows you are mortal, a topic you've discussed before.

Jokingly, he suggested you find a vampire lord, but even if one were found, Astarion would never allow you to turn into a vampire.

"It hurts, it's painful. The existence of a vampire is miserable. I will never do this to you."

The price of mortality is death.

You made him promise not to step into the sunlight and to keep living, carrying memories of you into the future.

You die as you always wanted: in a glorious battle, or safe and comfy in your bed, or brought home by Astarion to a place you grew up in.

You die with no regrets, sorrows, or complaints.

Astarion is numb; all the feelings he learned how to express are gone with your last breath.

He dissociates; it's not him, not now, not real—he is somewhere else.

He hides in the shadows, safe in the darkness and lonely.

Unfortunately, Astarion has never learned how to be alone; you never left him on his own for a long time.

He realizes he can't meditate; there is a mental block preventing him from doing so in your absence.

It's even worse since he can't give himself a break.

Eventually, some friends of yours give him a Potion of Angelic Slumber. He sleeps for a few days in a row, without dreams and nightmares.

When he wakes up, the first thing he does is look for you, and then he realizes you're gone.

In this moment, Astarion breaks down, crying and cursing in Elven and Common.

His back hurts as if there are flesh wounds; the cold grip of darkness holds his undead heart. The tears burn the crimson eyes.

He mourns, grieves, wishes to be dead, but the given promise and the innate desire to survive prevent him from going into the sun.

For the first few years, he lives as a hermit in your shared house, starving himself by not hunting and spending months on your side of the bed without moving at all.

It's not life; it's an existence, miserable and hopeless when he imagines you alive.

A wake-up call is sudden but almost divine.

Deep in his thoughts, he finds himself in his own grave in Baldur's Gate, seeing you six feet above him as young as you were back during the tadpole adventure.

"I didn't get you out of this grave to let you bury yourself. Come on, you promised to me to live! Then, live! This is my last gift."

He wakes up, starving and cold, goes up and leaves for hunting. He hunts for a few days, satiating himself with animal and sentient beings' blood.

As his mind returns to him, Astarion washes and repairs his clothes, brushes his hair, makes himself look decent.

He ravages through your things, collecting them carefully in one place. You wouldn't want a shrine, so he sells the things he won't be able to use anymore.

He puts on your wedding ring (now he has two identical rings) and also a necklace you always liked.

He re-sews one of your gowns into a shirt; now, it feels like you are still with him.

Astarion leaves his first forever home and starts his own journey, taking the role of a sole adventurer - a monster hunter, a protector of the weak. He has always had this heroic side in him, just never admitted.

The most difficult thing is to stay alone; people praise him for saving someone from a monster, but they fear mingling with a vampire.

Sometimes, Astarion cries in his tent, cursing the evil gods for taking the only good thing he ever had.

He constantly talks to himself, imagining you standing beside him.

He actually enjoys these one-sided monologues because he can pretend you are still here.

Years pass, memories of the happy life fade. Astarion joins groups of adventurers here and there but always feels off.

Eventually, he finds the strength to live up to his promise, to enjoy what he has.

He explores places he has never been to, does things he has never done, and hears stories he has never heard.

He makes friends, mostly among long-living creatures. "Oh, my young vampire friend! It's been a while!" A wizard elf greets him with open arms. "I am 400 years older than you, idiot," Astarion chuckles and returns a hug.

Most importantly, he preserves the memory about you, paying bards and storytellers, talking about you at campfires, and putting you as an example of kindness and bravery.

Once, Astarion hears a song, "The One Who Saved Baldur's Gate." The motive and words are nice, but the more he listens to it, the more in shock he is.

This song known to every decent bard in Swords Coast is about you, a distant memory, a long-forgotten story.

He has fulfilled your promise, made sure you live in people's hearts. This day is bittersweet; he cries his eyes out, listening to that song over and over again.

But he feels happy, the first time in years.

With decades to pass, Astarion creates the Blood Guild - a union of vampires and dhampirs who prefer to hunt monsters rather than be ones. They also keep an eye on other vampires who are a danger to mortals, especially those who make spawns and thralls out of innocent victims.

Having immortal undead friends feels nice; having friends who understand his issues, too.

He finds himself in the position of a mentor; vampires come to him for advice and emotional support.

Then he meets a person, a runaway spawn, angry with what happened to them, determined to do whatever it takes to break their chains. Astarion agrees to help; they constantly bicker about every single thing—views on life, personal experiences, shared interests.

This new person is annoying, obnoxious, brave, and lovable. Suddenly Astarion realizes he doesn't want to stay in his tent alone; he doesn't want to speak to himself anymore.

The long-forgotten feeling of loving someone aches in his undead heart, but now it's not his turn to confess.

"You know, I've been manipulating you into helping me. I am sorry. if you want, I will go away."

"You are a good person, Astarion. No one is like you. But you deserve honesty and something real."

Astarion smiles back and hugs this person.

This relationship is different; the runaway spawn is nothing like you, different in every way possible—personality, appearance, behavior, views on life, everything.

At first, there is profound guilt, as if he betrays your memory by having another romantic relationship.

They talk, sharing the darkest and saddest parts of their immortal lives—crimes they had to commit, lives they lost.

Eventually, Astarion tells them about you—how wonderful you were, how kind, how brave, how much you meant to him. His new love smiles and takes away a strand curl from his face.

"So, this is the person I must thank for you?".

He helps his new love to break the chains by killing the vampire lord.

Returning back, Astarion starts talking about the future.

Adventures? Of course! His partner is also a spawn, they need healing and freedom the same way he needed many years ago.

And then - who knows? Life is full of cruel wonders. Especially, for immortals.

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[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

I Won't Lose You

I've been told by all my friends who have played bg3 that durge runs should not be the first run of the game but here I am, doing just that. In my defense, I want to go around as a fictional dragonborn trying to kill most things and save scumming on dialogue choices for approval ratings.

Summary: The dark urge takes over when Astarion gets injured in battle. In the aftermath, you flee, afraid of what the others think of you now but Astarion goes after you to bring you back to camp and reassure you that nothing has changed.

When the arrow pierces through his shoulder, all you can see is red. Blood roars in your ears, a scream tears itself from your throat and you change. You become a different person, your legs move of their own accord, the dagger in your hand twirls and you stab downwards. Over and over again you stab, blood splattering all over you but you don’t care. You’re not thinking, everything is a blur except the one word that rings in your head.

Kill.

And so you kill, your dagger tearing into flesh and drawing blood with each sickening squelch. The metallic taste floods your tongue and you grin. You feel alive, powerful, invincible. No one can stop you, no one can take anything away from you ever again. Laughter bubbles within your chest, bursting forth as you stand there, head thrown back. Blood drips from your clothes onto the floor but you barely notice it. Euphoria thrums through your veins, you’ve killed the being who tried to take the only thing you have left from you. It feels wonderful.

You feel as though a weight has been lifted from your shoulders and raise your arms towards the sky, laughing all the while.

“Try it! Try and take him away from me!” You yell. “I’ll kill you all!”

Adrenaline rushes through your veins as the goblins flee in terror from the figure covered in blood. Your legs begin to move, feet pushing off the floor as you hunt them down, a wild gleeful look in your eyes. Your dagger slices through their skin, ripping open arteries, tearing off limbs and you only laugh harder at their screams of pain.

You slam your dagger into the neck of the goblin leader, crouching on its back as the body falls to the floor with a loud thud.

“No one can take him away from me,” you growl. “Not even the gods.”

You look up to see your companions’ various reactions, but the only one you really care about is Astarion’s. As you take a step towards him, reaching out with a bloody hand, he takes a step back, ruby eyes wide with horror. For a moment, all he can see is Cazador, drenched in blood with a grin so wide it stretches his face, and then he blinks and you’re standing in front of him, a look of hurt in your eyes.

Before your name can fall from his lips, you’re gone, running into the nearby forest. Everyone turns to look at him, the same question in their minds: what did he do?

Back in camp, Astarion tries to ignore the gnawing feeling in his chest as Shadowheart heals his injury. He can’t shake the look you gave him before running away, the fear that filled your gaze. He recognised the look, after all, it was the same as the one he wore as Cazador’s spawn – the look of despair.

“I’m going out for a walk,” he says and leaves the camp before anyone can say anything. In all honesty, he has no idea how to find you, all he knows is that he has to. He can’t leave you alone to fend for yourself, especially not in that condition of yours. Letting out a sigh, he makes his way back to the battle site. He can try starting from there, track the scent of your blood and hopefully find you before anything else does.

When he reaches the site, he notices a lone figure sitting by the bloodstained rubble, their knees hugged against their chest.

“Y/N,” he calls out. You look up, and then quickly look back down, curled even more into yourself. Astarion feels his undead heart ache at the sight of your current state. You’ve always been the life of the party – cheerful, upbeat, optimistic. He’s the one who is broody, sitting in the corner and staring at everyone else and yet here you are, sitting all alone in the cold night with no fire to keep you warm.

“May I inquire as to why you have stolen my role as the broody rogue?” He seats himself next to you whilst maintaining some distance. You keep silent, staring into the distance.

“Come now, darling. Let’s head back to camp, the others miss you dearly, not as much as they miss me of course but –”

“Leave.” Your voice wavers. When he doesn’t move, you repeat your words a little louder. “I said leave.”

“But why, darling? You’re clearly cold and hungry, the camp has both fire and food. Don’t tell me you plan on freezing to death while starving? It’s not a very comfortable way to go,” he tuts. “You should choose a better way of dying.”

“I deserve it,” you mutter. “After what I did.”

“After what you did? You killed the goblins and protected the weak, I don’t believe any of that is deserving of such a slow death.” Astarion attempts to lighten the mood but your face remains sullen.

“You know what I’m talking about. I saw it, the way you looked at me. You don’t want me anymore, you shouldn’t. I’m a monster.” Your voice cracks, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“That’s not the worst thing I’ve seen,” his voice drops to a whisper. “And my feelings for you haven’t changed in the slightest. I still want whatever it is that we have, this weird relationship of ours. Nothing will ever change my mind about it. Your appearance simply…reminded me of something I’d rather forget in that moment, but the situations couldn’t be more vastly different.”

Astarion reaches out with a hand, simply holding an upturned palm towards you. A simple gesture, but one filled with so much meaning between the two of you. You stare at it, a hand slowly reaching out before pulling back again when you see how bloodstained your hand is.

Seeing as you are still in no mood to talk, he continues. “Whenever Cazador was covered in blood, it tended to be my blood. Usually it was after he had finished torturing me for whatever sick reason he had and he would smile at me, asking if I would be his good pet. You were covered in goblin blood, vowing to kill anyone even the gods if they tried to harm me. You were protecting me, not harming me, and I am forever grateful for that.”

Astarion takes your bloodstained hand and presses it against his cheek, leaning into the warm feeling, “I need you, Y/N.”

You feel a fresh wave of tears prick at the corners of your eyes, biting your bottom lip to stop the cascade. He shifts closer to you and leans in, ready to pull away should you flinch but you remain still, looking him in the eye and so he wraps himself around you, holding you tightly.

The dam bursts open and you weep, clutching at his tunic. Ugly tears dampen his sleeve, ruining his perfect appearance but Astarion doesn’t care. He’d do anything for you, just like how you’d do anything for him. The vampire spawn rests a reassuring hand on the back of your head while the other rubs circles on your back as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. Right now, only you matter, and if you needed a shoulder to cry on, he would be that shoulder.

“I can’t lose you,” you sob through the tears. “I’ve lost everything else already, I can’t lose you too. WIthout you, I…I don’t know what to do. You’re the only one who keeps me going.”

Astarion presses his lips to your head, closing his eyes as he takes in your sweet scent, “I can’t lose you either, Y/N, and I promise, we will remain by each other’s side forever.”

His words make you cry harder and you bury yourself into his chest, crying until you have nothing left to give and lie there panting, cries reduced to sniffles. Astarion kisses away the tears that remain on your cheek, lips lingering longer than necessary with each kiss before pressing his forehead against yours.

“All these years, I’ve always wondered if anyone would ever care about me to the point where they would do anything to protect me, and now I’ve found my answer in you,” he murmurs. “I couldn’t be happier knowing that you would choose me over everything else.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back. “Thank you, for accepting me after seeing what I really am.”

“Any time, dearest.” He continues to cradle you in his arms, gently swaying from side to side. As your eyelids begin to flutter shut, he decides that tonight, it can’t just be you who is vulnerable. You trust him enough to drop your guard to this extent around him, he wants to repay the favour.

“I had a nightmare about you, just the other night.” He gently pushes your hair out of your face, tracing your jawline. He’s been wanting to keep this a secret, afraid of scaring you but since you had challenged the gods themselves, perhaps a vampire wasn’t that scary in comparison.

“Did I look hot in it?”

Astarion blinks in surprise. Maybe he was rubbing off on you too much. Amusement colours his face as he gives your cheek a poke and pouts. “First you steal my role as the broody rogue in the party and now you try to take my place as the residential flirt?”

“It’s all your fault,” you huff good naturedly, folding your arms across your chest. “You’ve been a terrible influence on me.”

He smiles softly, giving you a peck on the lips, “I suppose I have. Although I must say, you have a long way to go before you can ever reach my level.”

“I can’t possibly put you out of a job, can I? Whatever will I do to keep my vampire lover around then?”

“You simply need to exist, darling. That is all.”

Your gaze softens and you press your lips against his, kissing him deeply.

“Do you want to talk about your nightmare?” You ask once you reluctantly break away from the kiss to breathe. He nods, swallowing hard.

“Cazador had you. He threatened to kill you unless I returned to him, threatened to turn you into one of his spawn just like me and make you suffer for an eternity while I watched. You swore and cursed at me, saying all this was my fault, that it was all because of me that you were now on the cusp of being turned into a vampire spawn, and I –” His fingers tremble. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Star –”

“I hesitated! I thought about putting myself before you, and I –”

“I want you to do that.”

His eyes widen, “darling, you can’t possibly –”

“Star, you’ve spent far too long putting everyone before yourself. You need to start putting yourself before others from time to time, to stand up for yourself. I want you to live your own life, not someone else’s. And if Cazador ever comes for us, well I won’t let him separate us. We’ll have each other’s backs as we always do, and he won’t stand a chance.”

You say it with such certainty that Astarion almost believes you, but a nagging voice in the back of his head reminds him of how strong Cazador is. Yet, looking deep into your eyes and seeing your resolve, a small part of him dares to hope again. Maybe, he really could stand up against his master with you by his side. Maybe one day, he really could be free, but for now, he’s more than content to simply hold you in his arms, feeling your warm embrace and his undead heart soaring.

[another-rogue-trevelyan]

If you liked Dragon Age Masterlist

If you’re anything like me, you’re into niche market, high fantasy, single player RPGs, preferably with a historical setting and romance options. So if you’re looking for a new game, here I am with some suggestions!

Sorted by studio:

Bethesda:

Oblivion (2006)

“In the shadow of evil, a hero will rise from the ashes of a fallen empire. The gates have been opened, and the battle has begun. Only one thing can save the world from Mehrunes Dagon and the demonic hordes of Oblivion. The true heir of the Septim line must be found and restored to the Imperial throne. The fate of the world rests in the hands of one. Find him, and shut the jaws of Oblivion.”

The Elder Scrolls series were my gateway into RPGs and hold a special place in my heart. Oblivion features a wide open world, immersive combat, and the ability to customize race, class, and gender.

Skyrim (2011)

“The Empire of Tamriel is on the edge. The High King of Skyrim has been murdered. Alliances form as claims to the throne are made. In the midst of this conflict, a far more dangerous, ancient evil is awakened. Dragons, long lost to the passages of the Elder Scrolls, have returned to Tamriel. The future of Skyrim, even the Empire itself, hangs in the balance as they wait for the prophesized Dragonborn to come; a hero born with the power of The Voice, and the only one who can stand amongst the dragons.”

I have sunk so many hours into this game and still have not experienced all there is to experience. Just like Oblivion, Skyrim offers the ability to customize your character and find a play style that suits you. A huge open world offers tons of opportunity for exploration and questing. You could play this game many, many hours and not even touch the main quest if you wanted to.

BioWare:

Mass Effect Legendary Edition (2021)

Just do it. Just fucking do it I’m still sobbing I’ve never had a game wreck me in this way. I might possibly like it more than Dragon Age which feels sacrilegious to say but it was so good. You follow Commander Shepard (customizable) for three whole games and the choices have serious consequences. Also, romance. Truthfully this might be the most well written storyline I’ve ever seen in a video game. Also, same studio as Dragon Age.

CD Projekt:

The Witcher III: Wild Hunt (2015)

I’ll let the website description speak for itself, but Witcher III was good enough that I didn’t mind being forced to play as a man (those who know me know that I exclusively prefer to play women and often dislike games where I can’t do so)! The characters that make up this story are captivating and suck you into their world, leaving you with some tough choices to make. Also, bonus points for romance! (Yen is one of my all time favorite characters, Triss never stood a chance for me. Sorry Triss fans 😂)

Larian:

Divinity Original Sin 2 (2017)

“The Divine is dead. The Void approaches. And the powers lying dormant within you are soon to awaken. Choose your role in a BAFTA-winning story, and explore a world that reacts to who you are, and the choices you make. With five races to choose from, and an adventure playable solo or as a party of up to four, lay waste to an oppressive order in a world afraid of magic. Become the God the world so desperately needs.”

Full disclosure, I have not finished playing this one yet and will update when I do, but what I’ve played so far has been great! A classic, turn-based RPG that allows you a wide range of character customization. I find this game incredibly satisfying to be a rogue (my preferred class) because it lets me live my dream of throwing knives at people. Also, romance!

Baldur’s Gate III beta (2020)

“An ancient evil has returned to Baldur's Gate, intent on devouring it from the inside out. The fate of Faerûn lies in your hands. Alone, you may resist. But together, you can overcome. Gather your party.”

Fair warning, as of my most recent update to this post (March 30th, 2021) this game is still in a beta phase, which means it is NOT complete and has aspects that are missing, glitchy, or subject to change. With that being said, I’m so obsessed. It’s so, so good already and is only getting better. Another wide open world to explore with a group of companions with strong and sometimes clashing personalities, choices are abundant in this game and will affect how your party members think of you. This game so far gives me the feeling that choices are complicated and aren’t always easy to tell which is morally right, which I personally love. Also, I can be a sarcastic ass with a good heart, which is always fun. Astarion basically owns me now, but if you can resist him there are plentiful other romance choices as well! Customization is already a wider range than I’ve seen in most RPGs and they haven’t even finished the character creator yet, which has me SO excited for the finished product. Also - good hair?!??!! I love it!

Lionhead:

Fable III (2010)

“Lead a revolution to take control of Albion, fight alongside your people, and experience love and loss while preparing to defend the kingdom against a looming threat. Your choices as ruler will lead to consequences felt across the entire land.”

I’ll be honest, this one isn’t my favorite on the list, but was good enough to still make it! This game allows you to choose between playing as the prince or the princess on a quest to save your kingdom from itself, and then a greater threat as well. The game takes place in a kingdom loosely modeled after industrial England, and what did score it some major points were (SPOILER WARNING - skip the purple if you don’t want to know!) that the last act of the game lets you play as the monarch, where you are forced to make some tough decisions in order to save your kingdom. It is very easy to back yourself into a corner, pinch pennies in order to fund the army and save the kingdom, but make your citizens hate you because of it. You’re gonna have to be very, very careful, which is something I did really enjoy about this game. (I’ve heard Fable II was better, and that’s also on my list to try, will update in the future!)

Nintendo:

Fire Emblem Three Houses (2019)

“War is coming to the continent of Fódlan. Here, order is maintained by the Church of Seiros, which hosts the prestigious Officer’s Academy within its headquarters. You are invited to teach one of its three mighty houses, each comprised of students brimming with personality and represented by a royal from one of three territories. As their professor, you must lead your students in their academic lives and in turn-based, tactical RPG battles wrought with strategic, new twists to overcome. Which house, and which path, will you choose?”

Currently playing this one and I’m so addicted! This one is slightly outside of my usual taste but it has made me interested in playing more games like it. The player controls Byleth (you can rename them if you wish), who becomes a professor of combat and battle tactics despite their young age at a monastery and finds themself in charge of a house of students. Battles are tactics and strategy based and classes are highly customizable. I sunk like 30 hours into this game in the last three days. I won’t say more about the plot to avoid spoilers, but it’s been a ton of fun and also has slow burn romance

Spiders:

Greedfall (2019)

This game destroyed my soul in the best way and when I finished it I immediately started a new game to play it again. You play as Lady or Lord De Sardet, Legate of the Congregation of Merchants and effectively the right hand of your cousin, who has been appointed governor of your new colony on the island. While I enjoy the combat in this game, which allows you the choice between one handed, two handed, magic, and pistols or rifles (save that ammo for when you really need it!), this game focuses heavily on diplomacy and relations. Be careful what information you give to whom and how you treat every decision. The enemies you make early on might be people you need on your side later. I also love that choices aren’t always clearly right or wrong, and often are more complicated than they first appear. Even the best intentions can sometimes go awry.

Ubisoft:

Assassin’s Creed, Syndicate (2015)

“London, 1868. In the heart of the Industrial Revolution, lead your underworld organization and grow your influence to fight those who exploit the less privileged in the name of progress”

Another one that I’ll admit, I haven’t finished, and is definitely the odd one out on the list because it’s set in Victorian England, but I was having fun with what I had played so far before Greedfall distracted me. In this game, you alternate between controlling twins Jacob and Evie Frye as you explore and liberate London while meeting famous historical figures and running a gang on the side.

Assassin’s Creed, Origins (2017)

“Ancient Egypt, a land of majesty and intrigue, is disappearing in a ruthless fight for power. Unveil dark secrets and forgotten myths as you go back to the one founding moment: The Origins of the Assassin’s Brotherhood.”

In the spirit of honesty, I haven’t started this one yet, but I am so confident that I’m gonna love it when I do that it’s here anyway. I’ve purchased it, and will get to it soon, I swear! In the meantime, I wanted to put it here because I’m confident some of you will enjoy it. Will come back with a review once I know more.

Assassin’s Creed, Odyssey (2018)

“Write your own epic odyssey and become a legendary Spartan hero in Assassin’s Creed® Odyssey, an inspiring adventure where you must forge your destiny and define your own path in a world on the brink of tearing itself apart. Influence how history unfolds as you experience a rich and ever-changing world shaped by your decisions.”

Y’all this game owned my soul for a while. I’ve sunk so many hours into it. You have a choice to play as either Kassandra or Alexios and navigate the wonders of Ancient Greece. The world is stunning, the choices are important, and this game took a big step for the assassins creed series in becoming a true RPG. I can’t recommend this one enough, you should absolutely go for it!

Assassin’s Creed, Valhalla (2020)

“Become Eivor, a legendary Viking warrior. Explore England's Dark Ages as you raid your enemies, grow your settlement, and build your political power in the quest to earn a place among the gods in Valhalla.”

This game is brand new, hot off the press, and has already been a massive hit. I have only JUST started playing it and am about an hour in, but so far so good! It’s here on my recommendations list because of its wild popularity and because I’ve already enjoyed other games in this series, so I feel confident that some of my fellow dragon age fans will enjoy it. Will update again once I get further in.

Other games on my To Be Played list (otherwise known as things I don’t want to recommend because I know almost nothing about them but will update here after I know more)

-Pillars of Eternity 1 and 2

-Horizon Zero Dawn

-Assassin’s Creed: Black Flag

-Fable 1 and 2

-Kingdoms of Amalur

-Breath of the Wild

-Crimson Desert (not out yet but I’m intrigued)

[whitewolfandthefox]

The Call of the Wild: Part 8

Summary: Astarion is delight to discover your true nature. The pack begins it hunt.

Series Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist here!

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions of torture and injury, whole lotta angst, some panic and looots of unhappiness, implied suicidal tendencies

A/N. This is a little later than I had wanted to get it out, but I spent the entirety of my day sanding and raking. We are renovating my kitchen, so that’s fun. Enjoy this next chapter, we’re about halfway through babes! Thank you to everyone who has been with me since the beginning, and welcome to the many, many people who have joined me along the way! As always, come yell at me in the comments or reblogs, I love it!

Chapter 8: Breaking Point

A sharp pain brought you back to awareness as you lifted your hand to your neck. Your fingers felt something warm and sticky, your breath catching in your throat as you pulled them away to see blood coating your fingers. You hadn’t been wounded on your neck, where was the blood and pain coming from? 

You remembered striking, burying the stone in the guard’s neck, feeling the hot blood spray from his neck as it covered your hands, running down to stain his tunic. You remembered the power that had surged through you before you collapsed, remembered directing it to the pain, wanting to help, to heal. 

Again your hand lifted, finding the wound at the same place you had injured the guard. You thought back to when you had healed Geralt, waking up to find new scars on your side. Maybe this was part of your powers, you healed others by taking the wound onto yourself. You struggled to sit up, feeling the warm blood trickle slowly down your neck, bleeding into the cloth on your chest. 

A sound drew your attention outside of yourself. You looked up to find Astarion staring at you, a delighted look on his face. His expression unnerved you, his happiness was always associated with pain and hurt for you. 

“You’re a healer,” he breathed. “This is amazing, you’re exactly what I’m looking for. I’ve always found fighters or strategists, you’re the first healer I’ve studied. Someone like you could have saved my family from dying.”

As he spoke, he stood and started pacing, hands waving excitedly in the air. “That wound would have killed him, but you, you will be fine! You will heal and be on your feet in no time. You could have taken the sickness that killed my mother, my siblings. You could have saved my father when he was attacked by your wretched kind. None of my spells could, they were too complex, needed too much energy. But your healing ability wouldn’t need that much. You saved a man from death, and it only cost you a few moments of consciousness. Once I find where your power comes from, no one will die needlessly!”

Your heart sunk as he continued his manic rambling, speaking about how he would be able to save humankind, how you were the answer to all of his questions. Despair filled you, devouring every other emotion and leaving a bleak void in its place. You weren’t getting out of here alive, not unless someone came to get you. And no one would. Your friends had turned on you, your family dead. No one knew where you were. You were all alone. 

The world shrunk, all that you knew was your pain and your despair, nothing else mattered. You would die here, that you were certain of. As Astarion left your cell, you curled into yourself on the floor, tears running down your face. You let yourself fall into darkness, your only escape from the hell that was your present. 

**~*~*~*~**

Geralt pushed his pack hard, no longer hampered by waves of pain. The lack of hurt worried him, feeling only exhaustion and misery leaking from you, a bleak emotional landscape full of hopelessness. He tried to push hope back to you, but any attempt to reach you was blocked. 

As the days pass, the pack slowly loses speed, Geralt growing increasingly frustrated at their lack of progress. Yennefer finally snaps at him as they are gathered around their campfire. 

“Geralt, we can’t keep going at this pace!” Geralt glowered at her as she spoke, not acknowledging her words. “Ciri is exhausted, and the rest of us are close behind! Just slow down a little bit, we will still get there.”

The large man didn’t look up, refusing to discuss any changes to the fast pace he had started off with. “If Ciri gets tired, she can ride on my back. We need to move fast.” 

Yennefer scoffed, “And the rest of us? What happens when we can’t keep up? Are you just going to leave us behind? And what about when we get there? Geralt, we need to have the strength to actually be able to defend ourselves. Or are you just sending us to our deaths?”

Geralt rounded on her, “She’s dying, Yennefer!” he roared. “Every day I can feel her slowly getting weaker! She won’t respond to me anymore, she’s given up. I can feel her fading; she won’t last much longer.”

His chest heaved from his outbreak, fear glistening in his eyes. The camp was silent, Yennefer lowering her eyes at his words. With a growl, Geralt spun and stalked away into the woods, dropping into his wolf form as he took off running. Yennefer drew a hand over her face, a sigh escaping her lips. 

“Who are we searching for, Aunt Yen?” Ciri nestled herself into Yennefer’s side, looking up at her with wide eyes. “I know it’s another shapeshifter, but Papa seems so worried.”

Yennefer stared down at Ciri, violet eyes concerned. At last, she looked away as she responded in a quiet voice. “Sometimes shapeshifters find people who they have an instant connection with. Y/N helped your papa when he got hurt while he was away, and they have one of those bonds.”

Ciri was staring at her with wide eyes, Jaskier trying to look as if he wasn’t eavesdropping on the other side of the fire. Yennefer managed a wan smile at the two of them. “You’ll have to ask Geralt if you want to know more, though. For now, we should get some sleep though.” 

Yennefer ignored the sounds of protest as she stood, ushering Ciri off to her bedroll, Jaskier close behind. She tucked the blanket around her, smoothing her hair off the child’s forehead as she placed a gentle kiss on her head. “Will Papa be back soon?” 

“Yes, sweetheart, he just needed to run for a bit. You will see him in the morning.” The sorceress placed a gentle hand on Ciri’s cheek, pushing a gentle sleep suggestion at her. She sat with the young girl until her eyes fluttered closed and her breathing evened out before getting up and finding her own bedroll, setting a spell to alert her when Geralt returned to camp. 

**~*~*~*~**

The pain continued, though you no longer felt Geralt’s presence. It was getting harder and harder to return to your human form after a change was forced upon you. You’d given up hope of rescue after overhearing two guards as they passed your cell. 

“It’s been two weeks since the most recent one got here, which means we’ll probably be looking for a new one soon.”

“Yeah, they don’t last much longer than that. Just look at it, it’s stopped moving. We don’t have to beat it as much to get it to change.”

You had been in your fox form at that point and you hadn’t moved as they walked past. You lifted your head to glare at them, pulling your lips back from your teeth as a weak growl rumbled out of your chest. They had laughed and kept walking, leaving you behind as your heart sunk, laying your head down on the floor and closing your eyes, letting the defeat that had been gnawing at your edges sweep over you. 

You didn’t bother changing back to your human form; you weren’t sure that you even could if you had wanted to, you were so tired. Astarion entered your cell early that morning, guards posted at the door as he entered in case you decided to attack. 

You lifted your head mournfully, ears pressed against your skull, but other than that you didn’t move. Astarion grinned sharply. “Ah, finally. Your spirit is broken, my sweet. You’ve realized you have nowhere to run and no one is coming to save you.”

Your thoughts briefly turned to Geralt before you scolded yourself sharply. No one was coming to save you, you were on your own. This was where you were going to die. You remained passive as the sorcerer manhandled you, a whimper passing your lips as you felt the knife pierce your skin. 

Astarion shushed you, a hand stroking your fur possessively as you squeezed your eyes shut. “You were so strong, my sweet, you did so well. I have done so much research, learned so much from you. Your contribution to my studies is greatly appreciated.”  You yowled as you felt a bone in your front right paw snapped, the pain shooting up your leg into your shoulder. You collapsed as the man continued speaking. “The pain will end soon, little creature. I am almost done with you and then you can rest.”

You fell into a haze of pain, the words fading into the background as you let yourself drift. The only coherent thought you had before you fell into the familiar darkness should have frightened you, but it didn’t. The phrase repeated itself over and over again, consuming any other thought you had. Please just let me die.

**~*~*~*~**

The pack has stopped for a brief lunch, a companionable silence falling over the clearing. They had been moving fast, though not as fast as when they first started out. Geralt had realized Jaskier and Ciri couldn’t keep up with him and had adjusted his pace. This didn’t ease his worry though; he had tried reaching out to you again, only to be rebuffed. The pain you were experiencing had only grown, blocking any attempt he made to reach you.

Please just let me die. 

Geralt shot to his feet as fear flashed through him. The others stared at him as he threw things into their bag with no regard as to where they landed before slinging it over his back. 

Yennefer spoke first, concerned at the frantic motions coming from the Witcher. “Geralt, what happened?” Her tone was urgent, breaking through the haze of panic that had consumed the man. 

“She wants to die; she won’t live through the night.” he managed to get out, gesturing at Ciri to stand. “We have to run, we have to save her. Quickly, shift. We must go.”

At his words, the other three flew into action. Geralt fell forward as he shifted into a white wolf, a golden lion cub falling into place beside him. Yennefer shrunk into a black raven, flying high in the sky to scout as a honey badger pulled itself onto the back of the wolf, winding its claws into the silver fur to secure itself. 

Geralt looked at Jaskier on his back, receiving a nod before turning to Ciri who was growling low in her throat, claws kneading the ground as she waited to run. The wolf threw his head back as he howled, the lion next to him adding her voice to create a discordant sound. The forest around them went silent as the predators began their hunt, their fast lope eating up the ground beneath them. 

They ran for hours before finally arriving at the dark clearing that housed the keep. It was an intimidating structure, towers reaching high into the sky, grey stone framed against the skyline. The pack could see guards scattered around the entrance and along the roof. Staying low in the trees, the honey badger leapt off the wolf’s back before the two animals were replaced with the figures of Geralt and Jaskier. Ciri quickly followed, creeping into the underbrush to watch the dark structure as Yennefer, in her raven form, looped back from over the keep, landing and shifting back to her human form. 

They stayed silent, waiting for her to approach. The keep was mere meters away, the forest having been allowed to reclaim its stolen space as the years past. As she regained her equilibrium, the small group quickly shed their extra gear, cinching their armour tighter and ensuring their weapons were within easy reach. 

“There’s definitely a shapeshifter in there,” she spoke as soon as she had knelt next to the two men. “I can hear a faster heartbeat, it’s not a man’s rhythm. That must be her.” 

Geralt shifted, staying silent as Yennefer continued to speak. “We should be able to enter through the back gate, it’s not as heavily guarded. That’s where they’re keeping her as well. I think she’s on a lower floor; we might even be able to find a closer entrance.”

As Geralt opened his mouth to answer, a scream tore through the silence. The Witcher went rigid, a look of utter terror crossing his face. Before anyone could react, he shot out of the treeline with a roar, sword seeming to leap from its sheath to his hand as he raced towards the guards. 

**~*~*~*~**

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Witcher taglist: @riviawitch3r / @scarlettwitcher / @ayamenimthiriel / @uncoolcloudyhead / @secretsthathauntus / @vintage-mind-young-body / @creamysacrilege / @hina-chans-stuff / @bastardfruitsandbasil / @shewritesinthethirdperson / @widowvinter / @unnamedmaincharacter​ / @thenocturnalsyren​ / @loudlycolorfulkryptonite​ / @whatawildone / @geraltmrwitcher / @psychosupernatural / @chickennooget69 / @widowvinter / @just-antiyou / @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot

Call of the Wild taglist: @raspberrydreamclouds / @queenxxxsupreme / @achievementhunting-archangel / @alwayshave-faith / @afterthenightprevails / @a-door-into-my-mind / @msjjekyll / @ilovetaquitosmmmm / @bloo-moon-freak / @theblurplegirl  / @mathle0matle / @agniavateira / @thedevotedwitness / @fandoms-and-sunshine / @sofiebstar / @emiwrites3reads / @shadok2015​ / @chamomilebottom / @unlimitedd / @atozfantazy / @chillower / @mellowlandrunaway / @hinata7346 / @fallingleaves19 / @atozfantazyxx / @Giabella_Bellgia / @chamomilebottom / @theawkwardpedestrian / @ab-haya / @tr1naa​ (this isn’t what was submitted, I will not be tagging you next time unless you comment or send me another ask! Thanks bb)