#Astarion evil

[everyones-fangirl]

Delectable Little Pet

Warnings: 18+ This will be about after ascension Astarion so expect some extreme dark romance and future triggers. Stalking. Being super forward/not taking no for an answer. CNC. Drug Use! Emotions are wild in this one guys.

Word Count: 11,729

A/N: Hey! Sorry for such a long lapse in time since the last chapter. This one is extra long to hopefully make up for it. Let me know your thoughts and Thanks for reading! xxx

Chapter 16

Cassara

It’s been a whole week since I had last seen Astarion, and he had some serious explaining to do the next time I saw him. Which, according to the weird energy shift in the manor, could be very soon. The entire place buzzed with an undercurrent of activity that I hadn’t sensed before. Servants were moving with purpose, though their eyes were evasive, and the halls echoed with whispers and hurried footsteps. They were setting up for something, or at least trying to make it look like they were. I wandered through the grand corridors, feeling the weight of the castle pressing down on me. Ornate tapestries depicting scenes of ancient battles and legendary figures seemed to follow me with their eyes as I passed. The air was thick with the scent of polished wood and old stone, mingling with the faint aroma of the blood that fueled the inhabitants of this dark fortress. As I turned a corner, I caught sight of a group of servants huddled together, their heads bent in hushed conversation. They scattered the moment they noticed me, leaving behind an air of secrecy that only fueled my curiosity and unease. What were they planning? And why was I left in the dark?

I made my way to the grand hall, where the preparations were most evident. Tables were being set up, draped in rich, velvety fabrics, and the chandeliers overhead gleamed with a freshly polished brilliance. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, but it did little to ease the knot of anxiety twisting in my gut. “A party,” I muttered to myself, my voice echoing softly in the vast room. “They’re preparing for a party.”

But who was it for? And why now, after such a prolonged silence from Astarion? The questions churned in my mind, each one adding to the growing sense of dread that gnawed at me. The castle, once a place of mystery and allure, now felt like a labyrinth of shadows, hiding secrets I was desperate to uncover. I moved to the edge of the room, where the floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the sprawling gardens outside. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the meticulously maintained hedges and flowerbeds. It was beautiful, a stark contrast to the turmoil I felt inside.

As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, I turned away from the window, determination hardening my resolve. Astarion had some serious explaining to do, and I wasn’t going to wait idly by for him to make his grand reappearance. I needed answers, and I needed them now. With a final glance around the grand hall, I set off in search of anyone who might provide a clue as to what was going on. My footsteps echoed through the silent corridors, a steady reminder of the resolve that burned within me. One way or another, I would get to the bottom of this. And when Astarion finally returned, he would find a very different Cassara waiting for him.

As I made my way around, looking for anyone who would look me in the eye, I noticed that I had a shadow. In fact I’d noticed that a certain tiefling, who had been appearing far too often for it to be a coincidence, had been trailing me for days. My eyes narrowed as I tried to keep my gait steady, ensuring she would keep following me.

I rounded a corner, quickly ducking into a doorway so that when she followed, we’d be face to face. And that’s precisely what happened. She barely had a chance to react to me catching on before my finger was in her face. “Why are you following me?”

Her eyes widened in surprise, then quickly narrowed in defiance. “I wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me,” I snapped, stepping closer. Sanna took a step back, her back pressing against the cold stone wall. “You’ve been shadowing me for days. What’s your game?”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping in resignation. “Fine. Astarion asked me to keep an eye on you.”

My heart skipped a beat and I promptly tried to ignore it. Astarion. Even in his absence, he was still orchestrating everything. “Why? What does he want?”

“He didn’t tell me the specifics,” she replied, her voice softening. “Just said to make sure you were safe and to report back any... unusual behavior.”

“Unusual behavior?” I echoed, my anger flaring. “What does he think I’m going to do?” My frustration was boiling over. “I’m not the one sneaking around and spying on people.”

She shrugged with a nonchalance that made my anger spike. “How am I supposed to know? You know we can’t really refuse him.” Her response deflated my anger, and I grew quiet. “We’re happy to do it for him. Astarion has saved every single one of us from something.”

“Not me..” The words left my mouth before I even realized what I was saying.

Sanna’s eyes softened with understanding. “You might not see it that way, but he cares about you more than you know. Maybe more than he even admits to himself.”

I looked away, trying to rein in my emotions. “He just left without a word, Sanna. How am I supposed to trust that?”

“He didn’t leave you,” she said gently. “He’s doing something important, something he believes will protect you. And he trusted me to keep an eye on you while he’s gone.”

I sighed, the weight of her words pressing down on me. “I just don’t understand why he had to be so secretive. Why couldn’t he just tell me?”

Sanna took a step closer, her voice low and earnest. “Because he knows you’re strong, Cassara. Stronger than you realize. He didn’t want to burden you with worry. He wants you to be ready for whatever’s coming.”

I shook my head, frustration mingling with a flicker of hope. “But how can I be ready if I don’t know what’s going on?”

“Then let’s figure it out together,” Sanna said, a determined glint in her eye. “We’ll uncover whatever he’s planning, and we’ll be prepared for when he returns.”

I studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Fine. But if we’re going to work together, I need to know I can trust you.”

Sanna’s expression turned serious. She took a step closer, her eyes meeting mine with unwavering sincerity. “You can trust me, Cassara. I owe Astarion my life, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind to what’s right. I want to protect you, too. I’m not here to deceive you.”

I searched her face, looking for any sign of deceit. Her gaze held steady, and I found a flicker of something genuine in her eyes. “Alright,” I said slowly. “I’ll give you a chance. But if you betray me, I won’t hesitate to take you down.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Sanna’s lips. “Fair enough. Now, where do we start?”

I took a deep breath, thinking of the best approach. “We need to gather information. Find out what’s really going on in the manor. There’s been too much secrecy, and I don’t like being kept in the dark.”

Sanna nodded. “Agreed. Let’s start with the servants. They hear and see more than anyone else. If anyone knows what’s happening, it’s them.”

“Good idea,” I said. “We’ll talk to them discreetly, see if they’ve noticed anything unusual. And we’ll keep an eye on the comings and goings in the manor. Someone must know something.”

As we began our investigation, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in my gut. Astarion’s absence was more than just a personal affront; it was a sign that something bigger was at play. And I was determined to uncover the truth, no matter the cost. Over the next few days, Sanna and I worked together, gathering snippets of conversation, piecing together clues, and slowly unraveling the web of secrets that seemed to shroud the manor. The servants were hesitant at first, but with a little persuasion—and Sanna’s reassuring presence—we managed to coax some information out of them. It became clear that preparations were being made for some kind of event. The staff was tight-lipped about the details, but the signs were there: increased security, unusual deliveries, and a palpable tension in the air. Whatever was happening, it was important, and it involved Astarion.

One evening, as we sat in the dimly lit servants’ quarters, Sanna shared a piece of information that sent a chill down my spine. “I overheard one of the guards talking about a visitor coming to the manor. Someone powerful and dangerous.”

“Who?” I asked, my heart pounding.

“They didn’t mention a name, but from the way they were talking, it sounds like someone from Astarion’s past. Someone he’s not exactly on good terms with.”

I felt a knot of fear and anger twist in my stomach. “We need to find out who this visitor is and what they want. If Astarion’s involved, it can’t be good.”

Sanna nodded, her expression grim. “Agreed. We’ll keep digging. But we need to be careful. If they catch on to us, it could get dangerous.”

“I’m not afraid,” I said, determination hardening my voice. “I need to know what’s going on. And I won’t stop until I get answers.”

“I also heard that you embarrassed a couple of Astarion’s private guards,” Sanna said with a small laugh.

I rolled my eyes before letting out a growl. “They disrespected me... and I made them apologize.”

Sanna's laughter grew louder, and she covered her mouth to stifle it. “I wish I could’ve seen that,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Those guards are usually so high and mighty. It must have been quite the spectacle.”

“It was necessary,” I said, my voice firm. “They needed to understand that I won’t tolerate being treated like that. Not by them, and not by anyone.”

“Good for you,” Sanna said, her tone sincere. “You’re getting stronger, Cassara. Astarion is going to have his hands full when he gets back.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at that. “He certainly will,” I agreed. “But first, we need to figure out what he’s been up to. And why he left without a word.”

Sanna nodded, her expression turning serious again. “We’ll get to the bottom of it. Together.”

Our investigation continued, each day bringing new pieces of the puzzle. We learned that the event being planned was a grand masquerade ball, meant to lure someone important out of hiding. The staff was tight-lipped about the guest list, but it was clear that this was no ordinary party. The manor was being transformed into a place of opulence and mystery, with decorations and preparations that spoke of both luxury and danger. One evening, as we pored over a list of recent deliveries, Sanna leaned in closer, her voice a whisper. “I found something interesting. A shipment of rare alchemical ingredients arrived yesterday. And they were addressed to Astarion himself.”

My heart raced. “Alchemical ingredients? What could he possibly need those for?”

“I’m not sure,” Sanna admitted. “But it’s something we need to look into. It could be related to the visitor the guards were talking about.”

We decided to pay a visit to the storage room where the shipment was kept. Under the cover of night, we slipped through the manor’s shadowy halls, our footsteps silent on the marble floors. The moonlight filtering through the high windows cast an eerie glow, elongating our shadows as we moved with purpose. The air was thick with anticipation, every creak of the old manor making my heart race a little faster.

When we reached the storage room, I picked the lock with a skill that surprised even me. The satisfying click of the lock giving way was almost drowned out by the pounding of my heart. We pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit room lined with shelves and crates. Inside, we found crates filled with exotic herbs, vials of shimmering liquids, and mysterious powders. The scent of strange, potent ingredients filled the air, a heady mix of florals, spices, and something metallic that made my skin prickle. Sanna examined the labels, her brow furrowing in concentration. “These are powerful ingredients,” she said, her voice a whisper in the stillness. “Whatever he’s planning, it’s big. And it’s dangerous.”

A shiver ran down my spine. The room felt colder, the weight of our discovery pressing down on me. “We need to find out more. Maybe there are documents or notes that can give us a clue.” We carefully searched the room, our hands moving quickly but cautiously among the fragile vials and delicate herbs. In a hidden compartment behind one of the shelves, we discovered a stack of papers, yellowed and brittle with age. We huddled together, the dim light barely enough to make out the spidery handwriting.

As we read through them, a chilling realization dawned on us. Astarion was preparing for a ritual—one that required these rare ingredients and the presence of someone with immense power. The masquerade ball was a cover, a way to gather the necessary players in one place. “We need to stop this,” I said, my voice shaking with a mix of fear and determination. The words felt heavy, laden with the gravity of the situation. “He’s going to try to trap the wizard that almost killed me. He does not get to kill him.” My fists clenched at my sides, the rage bubbling up inside me. I had dreamed about feeling Lucian’s blood run down my arms, hearing his screams in my ears instead of mine. The thought of Astarion taking that from me was unbearable.

Sanna looked at me, her eyes wide with understanding and resolve. “We need to be careful,” she said. “If we confront him without all the facts, we could make things worse. We need a plan.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. “We’ll need to gather more information,” I said. “Find out exactly what this ritual entails and how we can disrupt it. We can’t let Astarion go through with this.”

Sanna agreed, and we spent the next few days in a state of constant vigilance. We scrutinized every shipment that arrived, every conversation we overheard, and every suspicious movement within the manor. Our nights were spent poring over the papers we had found, piecing together the details of the ritual and its intended outcome.

As the date of the masquerade ball approached, the atmosphere in the manor grew increasingly tense. The staff worked tirelessly to prepare for the grand event, unaware of the sinister plans that lay beneath the surface. I could feel the weight of the impending confrontation pressing down on me, but I refused to let it break me.

One evening, as Sanna and I reviewed our notes in a secluded corner of the manor, she looked up at me with a determined glint in her eye. “We’ve got enough to go on now,” she said. “We know what Astarion is planning.”

I nodded, my resolve hardening. “We’ll need to be smart about this,” I said. “But we don’t even know how to stop it.”

“We know that Astarion does not have the power to do this by himself. He’s gone off to bring someone back with him. The party is tomorrow, so expect him soon.” Sanna spoke confidently. “I suspect he’ll use me to try to keep you away from here, but instead, I’ll help you get into the party.”

I nodded, the bridges forming as she spoke. “He won’t notice I’m there?”

“I doubt it. He’ll be too preoccupied with his plan. Your job is to find whatever wizard he’s bringing and distract him long enough that the plan is ruined.”

“Distract him?” I frowned. “How am I supposed to do that?”

Sanna gave me a look before gesturing to my body. “Look at you! I’m sure you can think of something,” she said suggestively.

I rolled my eyes, but a small smirk played at my lips. “Fine, but I’ve never had to seduce anyone before.”

I could hear the frustration in her sigh as she rubbed at her temples. “How you roped in Astarion then I have no idea.”

I scoffed before punching at her arm. “Hateful.. I’m more than what my body can do.”

“Yes, yes you are. But tomorrow night I need you to be a slut.” She explained and I felt my face heat up at the thought.

“With a stranger? I don’t think I can do it.” I stuttered out.

“Come on, you can do this. We can practice.” She pauses. “Yes, practice. You need to get comfortable with the idea and figure out how to use your charm to your advantage.” Sanna stood up, her expression serious. “Seduction is as much about confidence as it is about appearance. You need to believe you can do it.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “Alright, show me what to do.”

Sanna grinned, nodding approvingly. “That’s the spirit. First, let’s work on your posture and walk. You need to move with grace and confidence.”

We spent the next hour practicing different poses and walks, Sanna coaching me on how to carry myself with an air of allure. It felt strange at first, but as I repeated the movements, I started to feel a flicker of confidence.

“Good, now let’s work on your voice,” Sanna said. “When you speak, make your voice low and inviting. Draw them in with your words.”

I nodded, clearing my throat. “Like this?”

“Almost. Try to sound more... sultry,” she suggested. I practiced speaking in a lower, more seductive tone, and Sanna gave me pointers on how to improve. With each attempt, I felt a bit more comfortable, the initial awkwardness slowly fading away.

“Alright, now for the real test,” Sanna said, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Pretend I’m the wizard. How would you approach me?”

I hesitated for a moment before stepping closer to her, letting my hips sway slightly. “Hello there,” I said, my voice soft and inviting. “Care for a dance?”

Sanna smiled, nodding. “Much better. Remember, it’s all about confidence. If you believe in yourself, others will too.”

I took a deep breath, feeling a newfound sense of determination. “I can do this.”

“You can,” Sanna agreed. As we continued to practice, I felt my anxiety gradually transform into excitement. The masquerade ball was our chance to uncover Astarion’s plans and stop whatever he was plotting. And with Sanna by my side, I knew we could succeed.

The night of the ball arrived, and the manor was a flurry of activity. Servants rushed about, their footsteps echoing off the marble floors as they made last-minute preparations. The air was thick with the scent of fresh flowers and the anticipation of the evening’s festivities. I kept to myself, acting as if I didn’t even notice the difference in the energy, my heart pounding with each passing moment. It was about midday when Astarion finally showed up. I wore a simple satin nightgown and sat in one of the large armchairs with my feet tucked under me. The gown, a deep emerald green, contrasted sharply with the crimson upholstery of the chair, making me feel both exposed and hidden at the same time. I had read through half of the book that rested in my lap, but if you had asked me what it was about, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you. My thoughts were too scattered, too focused on the impending confrontation.

The door creaked open, and Astarion’s presence filled the room. He pulled my attention from my thoughts by gently pushing my face toward his with a few fingers pressed under my chin. His touch was cool, a stark contrast to the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth. I blinked up at him, feigning my best doe eyes and cocking my head to the side.

“Forgive me, darling. I had urgent business and I had to leave.” He pressed his lips to the top of my head, the gesture both tender and possessive.

I tried to keep my anger at bay as I pouted. “You scared me...” I lied, letting my voice quiver slightly for effect.

His eyes softened, and he knelt down beside the chair, his fingers still lightly gripping my chin. “I’m truly sorry, my love. I never meant to cause you any distress.”

I studied his face, searching for any hint of deception. He seemed sincere, but I couldn’t forget the papers Sanna and I had found. I needed to play my part perfectly. “You’ve been gone for over a whole week,” I said, my voice trembling. “I didn’t know if you were coming back.”

He sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “I know, and I hate that I had to leave you like that. But I promise, it was necessary.”

I leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against my cheek. “Necessary for what? What could be so important that you had to leave without a word?”

He hesitated, a shadow passing over his face. “There are things you don’t understand, Cassara. Things I can’t explain right now.”

I pulled away slightly, just enough to show my frustration. “You always say that. But I need to know, Astarion. I can’t keep living in the dark.”

He stood up, a sigh escaping his lips. “Trust me, darling. Everything I do, I do for us.”

I nodded, biting my lip to keep the flood of questions and accusations at bay. “I do trust you,” I whispered, hating the lie but knowing it was necessary.

“Allow me to make up for it, yah?” Astarion closed the book that lay in my lap before pulling me from the chair.

I looked at him with confusion. “Make up for it how?”

“A surprise.” He smiled, his fangs flashing in the firelight.

Sanna didn’t tell me about a surprise, and I suddenly grew very nervous. I cared for him so much, dangerously so. But I didn’t trust him. He kept me in the dark, and I had grown to expect only the worst. And on top of all of that, his staff said I was his whore, and I could only imagine where they got that from. “Astarion, please. I’m hardly dressed for such a thing.” I argued, tugging my wrists from his grasp.

“You look lovely, like a dream.” He turned to grasp me once more. “When you see what it is, you will no longer care, I promise you.”

I sighed, knowing I was fighting a losing battle. Something in me wanted—no, needed—to bend to his will. It was second nature, like taking in a breath or blinking. I couldn’t stop it if I tried. So I allowed him to pull me through the back halls until we emerged in the back garden, one reserved for the lesser of his staff. Ones his guests would probably turn their noses up at—or he was trying to keep me away from the party. He truly believed I was so ignorant. My anger was almost bubbling over until I heard a familiar voice arguing over the hedges. When we rounded the corner, a small fountain caught my eye before the bright red hair of my best friend came into view. Sanna had her hand in hers and looked sad as Caty yelled at her. “What the hells is going on? You’ve known where Cassara was this whole time?” I could hear the tears in her trembling voice.

I broke from Astarion and ran to her, taking her into a hug. “Don’t be angry at her, please. She couldn’t say anything. I have been in danger.”

Caty’s eyes widened as she hugged me tightly. “Danger? What kind of danger, Cassara?”

I glanced back at Astarion, who watched us with a guarded expression. “It’s complicated,” I said softly. “But we’ll figure it out together.”

Astarion stepped forward, his voice smooth but commanding. “Ladies, I understand there’s a lot to discuss so allow me to leave you to it.” If I hadn’t known to look, I would have missed the knowing look he gave Sanna, but I kept my cool, knowing she’d fill me in when she could.

We all watched as he walked away, and I let out a frustrated groan. “I’m sorry. He sprung Caty on me at the last second. I didn’t think he’d go this far for a distraction.” Sanna tried to explain.

“Sanna,” I started, pointing toward her. “What did he tell everyone when I first came in? When he moved me into his room? Who did he tell everyone I was?”

Sanna’s ears drooped and her eyes went to the floor. “Cassara, I don’t—“

I turned my head toward her sharply, cutting her off. “Tell me... now,” I commanded.

“H-He said you were his whore,” she stuttered out, and Caty gasped.

My body tensed, the words hitting me like a physical blow. I felt Caty’s grip on my arm tighten, her own shock mirroring my own. The anger that simmered beneath the surface threatened to boil over, but I forced myself to remain composed. “He said I was his whore?” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. The humiliation and betrayal cut deep, but I couldn’t let it show. Not now.

Sanna nodded, her eyes still cast down. “I’m so sorry, Cassara. We all thought... well, he’s our master. We believed him.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “It’s not your fault,” I said, though the words felt hollow. “He’s manipulated all of us.”

Caty’s eyes blazed with fury. “We need to get you out of here, Cassara. You don’t deserve this.”

I shook my head. “No, I’m staying. There’s more at stake here than just my pride.” I hesitated, not truly wanting to admit my feelings for the man who’s done nothing but lie to me since the moment we met. “Revenge. The person who did this to me will be taken out by me. No one else.”

Caty looked between Sanna and me with worry and confusion. “Did what? Who? Cassara, what happened to you?” She looked at me with wide eyes as if she was finally fully seeing me, taking in all the changes.

I sighed, feeling the weight of the past bearing down on me. I had no other choice but to sit by the fountain and tell my story. The ambient noise of the garden faded into the background as the gravity of what I was about to reveal settled over us. “It started in the forest,” I began, my voice trembling slightly. “I was ambushed. Lucian and his men—they took me by surprise. They dragged me away, far from any help, and locked me up in a dark, damp cell. Every day, I was subjected to unimaginable pain and suffering.”

Caty gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Cassara, I had no idea...”

“I know,” I said, swallowing hard. “Lucian enjoyed it. He took pleasure in breaking me down, in seeing me suffer. He used magic to inflict pain that went beyond the physical. My screams echoed in that place, and I thought I’d never escape. He used every method he could think of to break me—starvation, isolation, mental and physical torment. But I survived. I held on, waiting for a chance to escape, clinging to the hope that I’d be free one day.”

Sanna looked horrified, her eyes wide with shock and empathy. “How did you manage to hold on?”

I shrugged, my shoulders feeling heavy with the memory. “I focused on one thing: revenge. I promised myself that if I ever got out, I’d make Lucian pay for every single moment of agony he put me through.”

“And then Astarion found you?” Sanna asked, her voice soft with concern.

I nodded, a bitter smile curling my lips. “Yes, he did. He appeared like a savior, cutting down Lucian’s men and pulling me from that hell. He promised to protect me, to help me get my revenge. But it was all a lie. He has done nothing but use me for his own purposes, keeping me in the dark about his true intentions.”

Caty’s eyes filled with tears. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner? We could have helped you.”

"I couldn't," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I didn't know who to trust. Astarion has a way of making you believe in him, even when you know you shouldn’t. He’s... charming, manipulative. He made me feel safe, even though I knew deep down that something was wrong.”

The garden grew silent, the only sound being the gentle trickle of water from the fountain. I took a deep breath and continued, my resolve hardening. "No more crying. I have a job to do. If he wants me to be his whore, I’ll show him a whore. Give me the dress you had me try last night."

Sanna looked at me with concern. "You said not to bring that one, it was too—"

I cut her off again, my voice firm. "I know what I said, but I'm changing my mind. Let's go to your room and get ready."

As we made our way back to Sanna’s room, the tension was palpable. My heart raced with a mix of anger and determination. I knew I had to play my part perfectly if we were to succeed. Sanna helped me into the dress, her fingers deftly fastening the intricate buttons and laces. I stood before the mirror, taking in my reflection. The woman staring back at me was a stark contrast to the one I was just hours ago. The deep crimson dress clung to my curves, its fabric smooth and luxurious against my skin. The neckline plunged daringly, revealing just enough to tantalize without giving everything away. The slit up the side of the dress reached mid-thigh, offering glimpses of my leg as I moved. It was a bold choice, one that commanded attention and exuded power—exactly what I needed tonight. My hair, usually tied back or left in a simple style, now cascaded in loose waves around my shoulders. The soft curls framed my face, enhancing the smoky makeup Sanna had applied. My eyes looked larger and more intense, lined with dark kohl and shadowed with shades of deep plum and gold. My lips, painted a deep, sultry red, stood out against the paleness of my skin.

The transformation was startling. Gone was the frightened, uncertain girl who had been trapped in Astarion’s web of lies. In her place stood a woman determined to reclaim her power and get the answers she so desperately sought. The dress, the makeup, the hair—they were all part of the armor I needed to face the night ahead.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the night’s mission settle on my shoulders.

"You look incredible," Sanna said, her voice a mix of admiration and concern. I turned to face her, nodding in acknowledgment. I could see the worry in her eyes but also the belief that I could pull this off. She had lit a blunt sometime while I was finishing up, and I watched as the smoke filled the room. I held my hand out for her to pass it. “I grew this myself, I don’t think you should—”

“Gods, Sanna. I grew up in a druid village. I’ve smoked grass before,” I snapped, and she handed it to me. I felt awful for being so mean, but I was stressed. I breathed in the smoke, allowing it to fill my lungs before blowing it out slowly. After a few more hits, I nodded, ready to go.

Caty stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over my transformed appearance. "Are you sure about this?" she asked, her voice tinged with both worry and determination.

"I have to be," I replied, my voice steady. "For all of us." I turned back to the mirror one last time, taking in every detail of my appearance.

The dress hugged my body in all the right places, accentuating my curves and giving me a sense of confidence I hadn’t felt in a long time. The makeup and hair added to the overall effect, transforming me into someone who could command a room and hold her own against anyone. With one final breath, I squared my shoulders and faced Sanna and Caty. "Let’s do this," I said, my voice filled with resolve.

Caty gave me a tight smile before handing me the mask she had been tinkering with. The mask was a work of art, intricately designed to both conceal and captivate. It was made of delicate black lace, with tiny shimmering beads woven throughout that caught the light with every movement. The lace formed elegant patterns that framed my eyes, drawing attention to the dramatic makeup Sanna had applied. Long, delicate feathers adorned the sides, adding a touch of mystique and elegance. When I fixed it onto my face, the transformation was complete. The mask added an air of mystery, allowing me to blend in while still standing out. After securing the mask, I turned to Caty, thanking her with a tight hug. "You did an amazing job," I whispered, pulling back to look into her eyes. "Thank you."

I turned to Sanna next, embracing her tightly. "Thank you for your help. This could get bad... get Caty far away from here." I could see the struggle behind her eyes, the conflict between wanting to stay and knowing the danger that lay ahead. After a few seconds, she nodded, the determination in her eyes mirroring my own.

“We’ll be ready,” Sanna assured me, her voice steady despite the gravity of the situation. “Just be careful, Cassara.”

I nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and apprehension. "I will. And I promise, we’ll get through this."

With one last look at my friends, I steeled myself for the night ahead. The manor was bustling with activity, and I knew the masquerade ball would be in full swing soon. I had to slip in unnoticed, blend with the crowd, and find out exactly what Astarion was planning. I made my way through the back halls, my satin gown whispering against the floor with each step. The mask gave me a sense of anonymity, a shield to hide behind as I navigated the treacherous waters of the evening. As I neared the grand ballroom, the sound of music and laughter grew louder, the energy of the gathering palpable even from a distance. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the room, the grandeur of the ball hitting me all at once. The grand ballroom was a breathtaking sight, a testament to opulence and extravagance. The room was vast, with high ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes depicting mythological scenes. Crystal chandeliers hung majestically, casting a warm, golden light that bathed the room in a soft glow. The walls were lined with tall, arched windows draped in luxurious velvet curtains, allowing glimpses of the moonlit gardens outside.

Guests in elaborate costumes and masks filled the room, their laughter and conversation creating a lively, almost enchanting atmosphere. The air was fragrant with the scent of fresh flowers, carefully arranged in towering vases that dotted the room. A string quartet played a melodic waltz from a raised platform, their music weaving through the conversations and adding to the magical ambiance. As I moved through the crowd, I noticed the variety of masks and costumes. Some guests wore elaborate, jeweled masks that covered their entire faces, while others opted for simpler, yet equally elegant, half-masks that highlighted their features. The costumes ranged from the classic and regal to the fantastical and whimsical, each one a reflection of the wearer’s personality and creativity. Tables covered in pristine white linens were scattered around the perimeter of the room, laden with an array of delectable foods. Silver platters held an assortment of hors d'oeuvres: delicate pastries filled with rich creams, savory tarts topped with fresh herbs, and colorful skewers of exotic fruits. The centerpieces were masterpieces in their own right, with arrangements of rare flowers and intricate ice sculptures that sparkled in the candlelight. Servers moved gracefully among the guests, offering trays of champagne flutes filled with bubbling golden liquid. The glasses caught the light, adding a touch of sparkle to the festivities. The guests, already animated and jovial, seemed to glow with excitement as they sipped their drinks and indulged in the evening’s offerings.

In one corner of the room, a group of performers entertained the guests with acrobatic feats and fire dancing. Their movements were fluid and mesmerizing, drawing a crowd of admirers who watched with rapt attention. The flickering flames from the fire dancers cast playful shadows on the walls, adding an element of danger and thrill to the otherwise elegant affair. Despite the lively atmosphere, there was an undercurrent of anticipation. It was clear that this was no ordinary masquerade ball. Whispers of secretive plans and hidden agendas floated through the air, mingling with the laughter and music. I could feel the weight of the night pressing down on me, a constant reminder of the mission at hand.

As I continued to weave through the crowd, I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of Astarion or his mysterious guest. The evening was a delicate dance of deception and intrigue, and I needed to stay sharp. The mask gave me a sense of security, allowing me to observe without being observed, but I knew that I had to be careful. One wrong move could unravel everything. The night was still young, and the secrets of the masquerade ball were waiting to be uncovered. I caught a glimpse of white hair climbing the grand staircase in the ballroom that led to a private balcony. Astarion. My eyes followed his ascent until he stopped beside another masked man. They both watched the party, their heads close together as they murmured to themselves. I cursed the loud music and chatter that drowned out their words, preventing me from eavesdropping.

Astarion looked striking, even from a distance. His white hair was tied back elegantly, contrasting sharply with his dark, tailored suit. The suit was a work of art, made from rich, velvet fabric that hugged his athletic frame perfectly. His mask, a delicate piece of black lace and silver filigree, covered the upper half of his face, highlighting his sharp cheekbones and intense crimson eyes. Despite the mask, his presence was unmistakable, commanding attention and exuding an aura of dark charisma. Beside him stood the strange guest, equally impressive in his appearance. His tall, broad-shouldered figure was draped in deep indigo robes embroidered with golden runes that shimmered under the ballroom's lighting. The mask he wore was a stark white, crafted from porcelain, with intricate gold leaf patterns framing his eyes and the bridge of his nose. His dark, wavy hair cascaded down to his shoulders, and even behind the mask, his piercing green eyes were recognizable, sharp with intelligence and intensity. The two men formed a striking pair, their contrasting appearances adding to the air of mystery that surrounded them. Astarion's predatory grace and the wizard’s imposing presence were captivating, drawing the eyes of many guests who speculated about their identities and purpose at the ball. I needed to get closer, to hear their conversation and figure out what they were planning. The crowd was dense, making it difficult to move swiftly without drawing attention. I carefully navigated through the throng of guests, avoiding servers and dancers as I made my way toward the staircase. My heart pounded with anticipation, the stakes of the evening weighing heavily on me. As I neared the base of the staircase, I paused, scanning the room for any signs that I was being watched. The guests were absorbed in their own revelries, their laughter and chatter creating a perfect cover for my movements. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and the sound of clinking glasses, creating an intoxicating, almost surreal atmosphere. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the next step. This was it—my chance to uncover Astarion's plans and stop whatever he was plotting.

But as I rounded the corner, I ran straight into the mysterious guest Astarion had been talking to. The collision was sudden and unexpected, and I cursed under my breath before quickly turning on my best charm. "I'm terribly sorry," I said, my voice laced with an apologetic sweetness. "I didn't see you there."

He studied me for a moment, his gaze intense and unyielding. "No harm done," he replied, his voice smooth but with an underlying edge. "Though it seems you were in quite a hurry."

I forced a smile, trying to maintain my composure. "Just eager to find my friends. It's such a large party, easy to get lost in the crowd."

He nodded, but there was a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. "Indeed. And who might you be, running so swiftly through this grand event?"

I hesitated for a split second, then gave a slight curtsy, playing the part of the demure guest. "My name is Cassandra," I lied, using a name close enough to my own to avoid any slip-ups. "I'm here with a few acquaintances, but it seems I've lost them in the excitement."

His lips curled into a faint, almost predatory smile. "Is that so? Well, Cassandra, perhaps I can assist you in finding your way. These events can be quite overwhelming for those unaccustomed to them."

I glanced around, searching for Astarion, but he was nowhere to be seen. "That's very kind of you," I said, trying to keep the conversation light. "But I'm sure I'll manage. Just a matter of retracing my steps."

He stepped closer, his presence imposing yet strangely comforting. "Nonsense. Allow me to accompany you. It would be a shame for someone as charming as yourself to wander alone."

The alarm bells in my head were ringing louder now, but I couldn't afford to let my fear show. "Thank you," I said, my voice steady. "I appreciate the offer."

As we began to walk, I tried to steer the conversation. "I couldn't help but notice you speaking with Astarion earlier. Are you old friends?"

He chuckled, a sound that sent chills down my spine. "In a manner of speaking. We've had dealings before. He mentioned he had a... special guest tonight. Perhaps that guest is you?"

I laughed softly, the sound forced but passable. "I'm afraid I'm not that special. Just another face in the crowd."

He tilted his head, studying me with an unsettling intensity. "I find that hard to believe." We continued to walk, my mind racing as I tried to figure out how to extract myself from this situation. The party around us seemed to blur, the music and laughter a distant hum compared to the immediate danger I felt. I needed to find a way to get over my nerves and remember what Sanna had taught me. Be seductive. Some grass, Sanna. Home grown into nothing.

“Say, I have a room just down the hall. We could...” I trailed off, letting my gaze wander to where his robes exposed his chest. The faint glint of interest in his eyes told me I was on the right track. And almost as if Sanna had heard me curse her bad grass, my head started to feel lighter—the drug starting to take effect. This might actually not be as hard as I thought.

I let my eyes linger on the exposed skin of his chest, my fingers lightly grazing the fabric of his robes. "I’ve always found these parties to be a bit... overwhelming. A quiet room might be a nice escape," I said, my voice low and inviting.

His gaze didn't waver, but I could see the flicker of curiosity mixed with something darker. "An interesting proposition," he replied, his tone still guarded but less dismissive.

I took a deep breath, trying to project confidence. "I promise, it will be worth your while," I purred, taking a step closer. The proximity allowed me to catch a whiff of his cologne, a mix of spices and something earthy. It was oddly comforting and a reminder of the mission at hand.

The drug in my system was making me feel more at ease, my movements more fluid and my mind sharper. I needed to keep him interested, to buy myself enough time to figure out what he and Astarion were planning. "You know," I continued, tracing a finger along the edge of his robe, "I’ve always found men with a sense of mystery... irresistible."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by my boldness. "Is that so?" he murmured, his eyes flicking over my form.

I nodded, letting a small, playful smile curl my lips. "Absolutely. There's something thrilling about the unknown, wouldn't you agree?"

His eyes darkened, and I could see the shift in his demeanor. He was hooked. "Perhaps I do," he said softly, his gaze never leaving mine.

I felt a surge of triumph, but I kept it hidden beneath a demure smile. I took his hand, leading him toward the hallway I had mentioned earlier. My heart pounded in my chest, but I forced myself to remain calm and collected. Each step brought us closer to a secluded area, away from the prying eyes of the partygoers. I was playing a dangerous game, but I had to stay focused. This was my chance to learn more about Astarion's plans. As we walked, I stole glances at him. He moved with a confidence that spoke of power and control. His mask, intricately designed, only added to his enigmatic presence. His eyes, partially obscured by the mask, seemed to pierce right through me, making my skin prickle with unease and excitement. Once we reached the room, I opened the door and gestured for him to enter. "After you," I said with a flirtatious smile.

He stepped inside, and I followed, closing the door behind us. The room was dimly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere. I could feel the tension in the air, a mix of anticipation and danger. I turned to face him, my hand still lightly resting on his arm. "Now, where were we?" I asked, my voice soft and inviting.

He studied me for a moment, then smiled. "I believe we were about to explore the unknown," he replied, his tone matching mine.

I bit my lip, feigning hesitation. “Maybe,” I said. “But first, tell me about you. Astarion seemed very interested in your visit tonight. What brings you here?”

He chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down my spine. “Curiosity, mostly. And perhaps a bit of... professional interest.”

I tilted my head, feigning innocence. “Professional interest?”

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Yes. You see, I’m always on the lookout for intriguing opportunities. And Astarion’s invitation suggested there might be something... special here tonight.”

My heart raced, but I kept my expression calm. “Special how?”

“A pretty little thing like you should hardly be interested...” he mumbled before scraping his teeth gently down my neck.

The usual sting of anger at being talked down to barely registered. I was too high, too wrapped up in the sensation of his teeth on my skin. It sent shivers down my spine, and damn, did it feel good. It was childish of me, but I wanted to do this for another reason now: to get Astarion’s attention. Or maybe, deep down, that’s what it had always been about. I wanted to be the one who could make him lose control, to force him to see me as more than just a pawn in his game. Fueled by my disorientation and the heady rush of the moment, I found myself reaching for the growing bulge in his trousers.

“My, my... sir, you are certainly excited. I don’t even know your name yet.” My voice was a low, teasing whisper as my fingers traced the outline of his arousal, lingering just enough to draw a reaction.

He let out a growl, his body tensing under my touch. His eyes darkened with a mix of lust and caution, as if he wasn’t sure whether to trust me or simply give in. “Gale... it’s Gale.”

I smiled up at him, my fingers continuing their teasing exploration. “Gale... what a lovely name,” I purred, my voice laced with the kind of sultry confidence I had never felt before tonight. I let my fingers dance along his waistline, slipping just beneath the fabric as I leaned in closer, my breath hot against his ear. “And what exactly are you here for tonight, Gale? What makes this masquerade so... special?”

He tensed, his hands tightening on my hips as if debating whether to pull me closer or push me away. The vulnerability in his hesitation made him even more enticing, and I couldn’t help but wonder what secrets he was hiding beneath that composed exterior. His fingers brushed against my skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

“Something far too dangerous for a little thing like you,” he murmured, though his voice wavered ever so slightly. The barrier between us was thin, both of us teetering on the edge of something neither fully understood.

I let out a soft laugh, my fingers now tracing patterns on his chest. “Dangerous? I think I can handle a bit of danger, Gale. Besides, you seem to be enjoying yourself.” I pressed my body against his, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric of our clothes.

Gale’s breath hitched, his resolve weakening as his hands roamed down my back, pulling me even closer. The tension between us crackled with unspoken desire and hidden agendas. My mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions—part of me was still yearning for Astarion’s attention, while another part of me wanted to unravel Gale’s mysteries, to make him lose himself in me the way I was beginning to lose myself in him.

“You really don’t know what you’re getting into,” he whispered, but the way his lips brushed against my neck told me he was more than willing to let me try.

“Maybe not,” I replied, my voice dripping with a mix of challenge and seduction. “But I’m willing to find out.”

Gale’s grip tightened, and in that moment, I knew I had him—if only for tonight. The question was, what would I do with him? The thought of using him to get closer to Astarion flitted through my mind, but as I looked into Gale’s eyes, I realized that tonight, the game was changing. This wasn’t just about Astarion anymore. It was about me, about seizing control in a world where I had always been a pawn. But as the thought solidified in my mind, a new question began to surface, one I hadn’t allowed myself to confront until now. Who was I? Who did I want to be?

In the heat of the moment, with Gale’s eyes dark with desire and my own heart racing,

I suddenly felt a shift within myself. It was almost as if I were stepping outside of my own body, seeing myself through his eyes—seeing the lengths I was willing to go to gain an upper hand. The power I had over him in that instant felt intoxicating, yet something about it left a bitter taste in my mouth. If I used this man, manipulated him for my own gain, did that make me just as bad as Astarion? Was I becoming the very thing I despised?

The realization hit me like a cold wave, dousing the flames of lust and ambition that had been fueling me. My fingers, which had been tracing seductive patterns along Gale’s chest, suddenly stilled. I backed away, drawing my hands away as if his touch burned me. The change in me must have been palpable because Gale’s expression shifted from one of desire to confusion. He looked at me, brows furrowed, his voice low and questioning. “What’s wrong?”

I met his gaze, my own emotions in turmoil. How could I explain this sudden clarity, this glimpse of the person I was on the verge of becoming? I had spent so long being manipulated, being used, that I hadn’t realized how easily I could slip into that same role—until now. “I... I can’t do this,” I whispered, my voice shaky as I tried to process the whirlwind of emotions churning within me.

His confusion deepened, his hands hovering near me as if unsure whether to reach out or let me go. “Why not? What changed?”

I searched his face, trying to find the right words. “I thought... I thought this was what I wanted,” I began, my voice wavering. “But I don’t want to become someone who uses people, who manipulates them the way I’ve been manipulated. I don’t want to lose myself in this... in whatever this is.” Gale’s expression softened, his confusion giving way to something else—understanding, perhaps, or at least empathy. He stepped closer, but this time, there was no lust in his movements, only concern.“I don’t know who I am anymore,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been so lost, so desperate to survive that I haven’t stopped to think about who I want to be.”

For a moment, there was only silence between us, the noise of the party fading into a distant hum. Gale’s presence, solid and warm, was like an anchor, grounding me in a world that had felt like it was spiraling out of control. His hand moved with a gentle certainty, cupping my cheek as his thumb brushed away a tear I hadn’t even realized I’d shed. In that tender gesture, I could feel something stirring within me, a spark of hope that had long been dormant. Here was a man who had no reason to care, no hidden agenda, yet he was offering me comfort—something I had been starved of for so long. It was in that moment that a fragile faith in goodness began to take root within me, nourished by the sincerity in Gale’s eyes. For so long, I had been surrounded by manipulation and deceit, but here was someone who saw me, not as a pawn or a tool, but as a person.

Just as I started to believe that maybe, just maybe, I could start trusting again, the door to the room burst open with a violent crash. The heavy oak door slammed against the wall, the sound reverberating through the room like a gunshot. I flinched, instinctively stepping back from Gale, my heart pounding in my chest as my eyes darted to the source of the intrusion. Astarion stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim light from the hallway. His eyes were dark, smoldering with a barely contained fury as they locked onto Gale’s hand on my cheek. The anger radiating from him was palpable, filling the room with a suffocating tension. His usual composed demeanor was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous, something that made my blood run cold.

“What in the Hells is going on here?” Astarion’s voice was a low growl, each word laced with venom. He stepped into the room, his movements deliberate and predatory, like a cat stalking its prey. His gaze flicked from Gale to me, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene before him. The tenderness between Gale and me had clearly struck a nerve, and now, the storm I had feared was upon us.

Gale, to his credit, didn’t flinch under Astarion’s wrathful gaze. He lowered his hand from my face, his expression calm but guarded. “We were just talking,” he said evenly, though his body was tense, ready for whatever might come next.

Astarion’s lips curled into a sneer, his fangs glinting in the firelight. “Talking?” He echoed, his tone dripping with disbelief. “Is that what you call it?”

My heart raced as I took a hesitant step forward, trying to defuse the situation before it could escalate further. “Astarion, please—”

He cut me off with a sharp look, his eyes blazing. “You think I’m a fool, Cassara?” His voice was low, dangerous. “I leave you for a moment, and you’re already throwing yourself at another man?”

The accusation stung, but more than that, it terrified me. I could see the jealousy burning in his eyes, a dark, possessive fire that threatened to consume everything in its path. This wasn’t just about Gale; this was about control, about the power Astarion believed he had over me. Gale, sensing the gravity of the situation, stepped forward, placing himself between Astarion and me. “She wasn’t throwing herself at anyone,” he said, his voice firm.

Astarion’s eyes flashed, and in an instant, he was in front of Gale, their faces inches apart. “And who do you think you are to speak for her?” His voice was a deadly whisper, and I could feel the tension between them like a live wire, ready to snap at any moment.

I knew I had to intervene before things spiraled out of control. Summoning every ounce of courage I had left, I stepped between them, placing a hand on Astarion’s chest. “Stop,” I said, my voice trembling but determined. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

Astarion’s gaze softened as he looked down at me, his anger momentarily tempered by something else—confusion, perhaps, or hurt. For a brief second, I thought I saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, something almost human beneath the facade he wore so well. “Then what is it, Cassara? What is going on?” His voice was quieter now, as if he genuinely wanted to understand.

I searched his face, desperately trying to find the right words, knowing that whatever I said next could either calm the storm brewing between us or unleash its full fury. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a reminder of how high the stakes had become. “I finally got fed up with being lied to, Astarion,” I began, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. “So I took things into my own hands. I know what you and Gale are planning, and this spell will not happen tonight.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I saw the shift in his expression. The softness vanished, replaced by a cold, cutting anger that sent a shiver down my spine. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened as if a mask had been ripped away, revealing the true depths of his fury. “You stupid, foolish girl,” he spat, his voice laced with venom. “You would ruin everything we’ve worked for—everything I’ve worked for—for what?”

“For my revenge!” I screamed back, my own anger finally boiling over. My voice echoed off the stone walls, carrying with it all the pain and frustration that had been building inside me for so long. “You will not take this kill away from me! You have no right to take away the vengeance that is mine!”

Astarion’s eyes flared with rage, and for a moment, I thought he might lash out, his hand twitching as if resisting the urge to strike. But then he stilled, his gaze boring into mine, the intensity of his emotions threatening to drown me. “This is bigger than your petty revenge, Cassara,” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “This is about power, about survival. If you derail this plan, you doom us all.”

“And what about me?” I countered, stepping closer to him, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “What about what I’ve suffered? What about the blood on my hands? I have a right to justice, Astarion. I have a right to end this on my terms, not yours. If you have even an ounce of care in your heart for me, you’ll let me do this. You’ll stop this madness and let me have what is rightfully mine.”

For a heartbeat, the tension between us was so thick it was almost suffocating. Astarion stared at me, his chest rising and falling with the effort to control his emotions. The anger, the hurt, the betrayal—all of it was written across his face, a storm of emotions that I could see but not fully understand. And yet, beneath it all, I caught a glimpse of something else—something almost like fear.

“You don’t understand,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a tremor in his words, a crack in the icy facade he wore. “If this spell fails, it’s not just your revenge that will be lost. We’ll all be lost. You, me, everyone.”

I shook my head, refusing to be swayed by his words, even as they tugged at the part of me that still cared for him. “Then let us be lost, Astarion. But I will not let you take from me the one thing that has kept me alive all this time. I will not let you steal my vengeance.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Astarion’s eyes searched mine, desperate and unyielding, seeking something—understanding, perhaps, or maybe a sign that I was bluffing. But I wasn’t. I had made my choice, and there was no going back. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing the finality of my decision. For a moment, the tension was so thick I could scarcely breathe, the weight of unspoken words and lingering emotions pressing down on both of us. If it weren’t for the fact that Astarion dismissed Gale with a single, almost imperceptible nod, I might have completely forgotten he was still in the room. The way Gale hesitated, glancing between us as if debating whether to intervene, told me that he sensed the gravity of what was unfolding. But with a small, apologetic smile—one that did little to hide his own frustration—Gale turned and left, leaving Astarion and me alone in the charged silence. As soon as the door clicked shut behind Gale, Astarion’s demeanor shifted. In the blink of an eye, the back room disappeared, and I found myself back in our bedroom, the transition so sudden that I barely had time to process it. The familiar surroundings were disorienting; the warm glow of the fire, the plush furnishings, all of it felt wrong, out of place given the storm of emotions that swirled between us.

Astarion was a blur of motion, his vampiric speed leaving me breathless as he pulled me across the room and pushed me against the wall. His grip on my shoulders was firm, not painful but enough to convey the desperation that now radiated from him in waves. His eyes bore into mine, a mix of anger, confusion, and something far deeper, something that made my heart ache in a way I didn’t want to acknowledge. “Our conversation is far from over,” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous, yet tinged with a vulnerability that surprised me. “You think you can just walk away from this? From me? From everything we’ve built together?”

“I’m not walking away,” I shot back, meeting his intensity with my own. “I’m taking control. For once in my life, I’m making a choice that’s mine and mine alone.”

His grip tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might lose control, might let the anger and fear consume him. But then he released me, stepping back as if the very act of touching me had burned him. He ran a hand through his hair, his expression conflicted, torn between the man I knew and the monster he feared becoming. “This isn’t just about control, Cassara,” he said, his voice quieter now, more pleading than demanding. “This is about survival. If you derail this plan, you doom us both—doom everyone we care about. You don’t understand the consequences.”

“I understand more than you think,” I replied, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. “This isn’t just about revenge, Astarion. It’s about reclaiming my life, my dignity. I refuse to be a pawn in your games any longer. I refuse to let you use me, manipulate me, like some mindless puppet.”

His eyes flashed with pain, and I knew my words had struck a nerve. “Is that really what you think of me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “That I’ve been using you? Manipulating you?”

“What else am I supposed to think?” I challenged, the bitterness in my tone undeniable. “You keep me in the dark, you lie to me, and now you’re trying to take away the one thing that’s kept me going. How am I supposed to trust you?”

Astarion’s expression crumbled, the mask he wore so effortlessly falling away to reveal the raw vulnerability beneath. “I never wanted this for you,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “I never wanted you to feel like this.”

“Then why do it?” I demanded, my voice breaking. “Why push me away? Why keep me at arm’s length?”

“Because I’m afraid!” The admission tore out of him, his voice cracking with the force of it. “I’m afraid of losing you, of failing you, of watching everything I’ve tried to protect you from destroy you. You think you’re the only one who’s suffered? You think you’re the only one with demons?”

The vulnerability in his words hit me like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of me. I stared at him, my anger wavering in the face of his raw honesty. For the first time, I saw past the facade, past the carefully constructed walls he had built around himself, and glimpsed the man beneath—the man who had fought so hard to survive, who had done terrible things, yes, but who had also cared for me in his own twisted way. “Astarion..” I began, my voice softening, but he cut me off, shaking his head as if trying to ward off the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

“No,” he said, his voice firmer now, though the pain in his eyes was unmistakable. “Don’t try to make this about me. This is about you, about what you want. So tell me, Cassara—what do you want? What do you really want?”

The question hung in the air between us, heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid. I opened my mouth to answer, but the words caught in my throat, tangled with the fear and uncertainty that still gripped my heart.

What did I want?

I wanted revenge, yes, but more than that—I wanted to feel whole again. I wanted to reclaim the parts of myself that had been taken, to find some semblance of peace in a world that had done nothing but take from me. But I also wanted him. Despite everything, despite the lies and the betrayal, I wanted Astarion, the man I had fallen for even when I knew I shouldn’t.

But could I have both? Could I really walk this path and still hold onto the part of me that loved him?

“I don’t know,” I admitted finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

Astarion’s expression softened, and he took a hesitant step toward me, his hand reaching out as if to touch me but stopping just short. “Then let me help you,” he said, his voice tender, almost pleading. “Let me help you figure it out. We can do this together, Cassara. But you have to trust me.”

I looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in his words, and for the first time, I saw a glimmer of hope—a fragile, tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, we could find a way through this. But it would require something I wasn’t sure I could give: trust. Trust in a man who had lied to me, who had manipulated me, who had kept me in the dark.

Could I trust him? Could I trust myself to make the right choice?

I swallowed hard, my mind racing as I weighed my options, knowing that whatever I decided would change everything. And in that moment, I realized that the choice wasn’t just about Astarion or revenge or even survival. It was about me. About who I was, who I wanted to be, and whether I was willing to risk everything for the chance to take control of my own destiny. “I want to trust you,” I said finally, my voice trembling with the weight of the decision. “But I need to know that you’re being honest with me. No more lies, no more secrets. If we’re going to do this together, then I need to know that you’re with me, really with me.”

Astarion’s gaze met mine, and for a long moment, he said nothing, the silence between us filled with unspoken promises and fragile hopes. And then, slowly, he nodded, his expression one of solemn determination. “I’m with you, Cassara,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan when you caught my eye through that tavern window - seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. It was easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you...which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart. You - .. you’re incredible. You deserve something real. I want us to be something real. No more lies. No more secrets. Whatever happens next, we face it together.“

I nodded, feeling a tentative sense of relief wash over me, but it was tempered by the knowledge of what lay ahead. This wasn’t the end of the battle—far from it. But it was a start, a step toward something better, something more than the endless cycle of pain and betrayal that had defined my life for so long. And as Astarion reached out to take my hand, his grip warm and reassuring, I allowed myself to hope that maybe, just maybe, we could find a way to save each other.

[sincerelystesichorus]

i have spent so long trying to place who astarion reminds me of

his dry little sarcastic bits gets me every time and like it's automatically funny but it felt so familiar...

this bastard.

and some more similar comparisons i think

thank you for coming to my ted talk

[coffeenonsense]

"astarion is a traumatized abuse victim who deserves kindness" and "astarion is a mean rat bastard man who would rip out your throat for a corn chip if he felt like it" are two statements that can and should coexist

[morebird]

Father Astarion

[sunsetagain]

RE8 X BG3 🦇Karlach Dimitrescu & 🐴Astarion Heisenberg

[theoldkyokodied]

The Allegiance of the Ascended Vampire and the New God of Magic

[meanbossart]

are we still doing mean girls jokes in 2024 or

[gettingsilly]

said she wanted five guys she aint talkin about burgers

[artist-rat]

my sister finished her first bg3 run, here's evil gang reunion photo <333 (withers invented polaroid for the occasion idc)

[tskva]

playing an evil character but u keep helping ppl anyway

[k-0re]

someone probably already made this

[everyones-fangirl]

Delectable Little Pet

Warnings: 18+ This will be about after ascension Astarion so expect some extreme dark romance and future triggers.

Word Count: 4,233

Chapter 13

Astarion

A deep sigh left my lips as my right hand rose once more to rub at my temples, as if that action alone would fix the mounting issues piling up around me. The council chamber, usually a place of authority and control, felt like a cage. The absence of Lucian, that treacherous snake, was a constant reminder of my own precarious position. He had vanished without a trace, evading every attempt to track him down. Even the council was left in the dark—his cowardice knew no bounds. I stared at the empty chair where he once sat, my mind awash with a thousand unformed plans. Each one began and ended with the satisfying image of his blood pooling at my feet. It was a visceral need, a primal urge to make him pay for his betrayal. But the how and when of it eluded me. My thoughts raced, a chaotic swirl of strategies and fantasies of vengeance, none of them concrete enough to act upon. The chamber itself seemed to mock my frustration. Elaborate tapestries hung on the walls, depicting scenes of ancient battles and glorious victories—symbols of a time when control was absolute and dissent was met with swift, merciless justice. The long, polished table in the center, around which the council would convene, was empty save for a few scattered parchments and quills. I rose from my chair, pacing the length of the chamber. The floor beneath me, a mosaic of dark and light stones, echoed with each determined step. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional creak of the wooden beams overhead. I could almost hear Lucian’s laughter, feel his smug satisfaction at having eluded me once again.

My mind drifted to Cassara, to the turmoil I had thrust upon her in my desperate bid to save her. Her transformation weighed heavily on my conscience, a constant reminder of my failure. And yet, it also fueled my resolve. I couldn't afford to be distracted by Lucian's games. I had to protect her, to ensure that the darkness I had pulled her into would not consume her entirely. Lucian's betrayal was a festering wound, one that demanded retribution. But Cassara was my priority. She needed me now more than ever, and I couldn’t let my quest for vengeance blind me to that fact. As much as I yearned to see Lucian's lifeblood spill, I knew that my focus had to remain clear. I stopped pacing, letting my gaze settle on the flickering candle that stood on the table's edge. Its flame danced and wavered, much like my own resolve. But I steeled myself, drawing a deep breath. There would be time for vengeance, time to settle scores. For now, I needed to be the pillar of strength for Cassara, to guide her through the darkness I had so recklessly thrust her into. With renewed determination, I left the council chamber, the echo of my footsteps a promise of the bloodshed to come. Lucian would not escape my wrath forever. But first, I had to ensure that the woman I loved was safe, even if that meant confronting my own demons in the process.

Once I got back home, my steps carried me automatically to my personal office. The weight of the day bore down on me, making each step feel heavier than the last. The office was a sanctuary of sorts. The room itself was vast, with high ceilings that seemed to stretch into eternity, adorned with intricate moldings and carvings that hinted at a bygone era of opulence. The walls were lined with towering bookshelves, each shelf packed tightly with ancient tomes, scrolls, and grimoires that chronicled the knowledge and histories of countless civilizations. The scent of old parchment and leather permeated the air, a comforting aroma that was as familiar as it was suffocating in moments like these. The centerpiece of the room was the massive, imposing desk that dominated the space. Carved from dark, rich wood, its surface was scarred with the marks of countless plans and decisions made over the years. The desk was always kept meticulously organized, with maps, documents, and writing implements arranged in perfect order, a stark contrast to the chaos that often surrounded my life. On the opposite side of the room, a small seating area provided a space for more intimate discussions. A pair of high-backed armchairs, upholstered in deep crimson velvet, flanked a low, intricately carved table. Here, I often met with my most trusted advisors, the setting lending itself to confidential conversations and secretive plotting. A side table held a crystal decanter filled with a rich, amber liquid—an indulgence for moments of reflection.

I blindly collapsed into the large, leather chair. The weight of the desk’s history seemed to anchor me, grounding me in moments of uncertainty. I leaned my arms against it, feeling the cool, worn wood beneath my palms as if its solidity could ground me in this sea of turmoil. Thorne appeared in the doorway almost immediately, his presence a silent, steadfast reminder of my own capabilities and resources. His dark silhouette was framed by the dim light of the hallway, his face unreadable as always. The anticipation in the room was palpable, a coiled tension waiting to snap.

"Anything?" I asked, my voice betraying the desperation I felt. I had sent out my own to hunt Lucian down, not fully trusting the council to do so. Their loyalties were too easily swayed, their motives too murky. Thorne was my blade in the shadows, my assurance that Lucian would not slip through our grasp unscathed. Thorne only responded with a shake of his head, his expression grim. The sight of it made my blood boil. A string of curses erupted from my lips, raw and unrestrained, echoing through the room with a violence that matched my internal fury. The failure to locate Lucian was an open wound, and each moment he remained at large was salt ground into it. "Dammit, Thorne," I hissed, my hands clenching into fists on the desk. "He can't have vanished without a trace. He has to be hiding somewhere. We need to be smarter, more ruthless."

Thorne nodded, stepping into the room with the grace of a predator. He closed the door behind him, the soft click a prelude to our next move. "We'll find him, Astarion," he said, his voice a low rumble of certainty. "He's not as clever as he thinks. Desperation makes men careless."

I nodded, taking a deep breath to steady myself. Thorne was right. Lucian's disappearance, though infuriating, was a desperate move. And desperation was a weakness we could exploit. "Double the efforts," I commanded. "I want eyes everywhere—every alley, every shadow. If he so much as breathes, I want to know about it."

Thorne inclined his head, a silent acknowledgment of my orders. He turned to leave, but paused at the doorway, his gaze meeting mine. "We'll get him," he reiterated, his tone a promise. Then he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the relentless thrum of my anger.

I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling. The ornate moldings and intricate carvings seemed to mock me with their permanence, a stark contrast to the chaos roiling within. Lucian's betrayal was a personal affront, an insult that demanded retribution. But it was more than that—it was a threat to everything I had built, everything I stood for. As I sat there, the weight of the day's failures pressing down on me, my thoughts drifted to Cassara. She was my anchor, my reason for fighting through this storm of treachery and bloodlust. Her transformation, her suffering—it all stemmed from my actions. I couldn't afford to fail her again. I had to find Lucian, had to make him pay for every ounce of pain he had caused. For her, and for me. Lucian would not escape. I would see to that personally. And when I did, the world would know that betraying Astarion was a mistake that cost more than just a life. It would cost a legacy.

Speak of the minx, as if she could sense me thinking about her, the door opened and she walked into the quiet room. Her eyes were vibrant in the dim light, a striking contrast to the shadows that played across her face.They were a brilliant emerald green, more vivid than I had ever seen before, and they seemed to glow with a brighter inner light. It was as if the life she had regained was now radiating outward, drawing everyone who looked into those eyes into her orbit. She moved with a sort of poised shyness that made me want to get down on my knees and give her whatever she was about to ask for. She stepped closer into the flickering light of the candles on my desk, casting an ethereal glow that made her look almost otherworldly. I cocked a brow at her expectantly, my heart rate inexplicably quickening. She was a vision, her once frail frame had filled out, her curves returning with a graceful yet undeniable presence. Eating more had not only restored her physical vitality but had also brought a renewed sense of life to her demeanor. Her skin, once pale and almost translucent, now held a warm, healthy glow. The blood she had consumed had worked its magic, infusing her with a vitality that was impossible to ignore. Her cheeks had a faint blush to them, a sign of the renewed life coursing through her veins. The dark circles that had marred her eyes had faded, replaced by a vibrant sparkle that drew me in every time I looked at her. Her hair, which had appeared dull and lifeless, now shone with a lustrous sheen. The rich waves framed her face beautifully, cascading over her shoulders in a way that begged to be touched. Each strand seemed to catch the candlelight, creating a halo effect that made her look almost ethereal. The deep chestnut color was interwoven with strands of gold and auburn, adding depth and richness to her appearance.Her lips, full and soft, were often tinged with a hint of color, making them even more enticing. When she smiled, it was as if the room brightened, her entire face lighting up with a warmth that was impossible to resist. Her teeth, sharp and slightly elongated now due to her vampiric nature, only added to her allure, giving her an edge that was both dangerous and captivating.

The dress she wore tonight accentuated every inch of her revitalized form. The tight corset made mostly of dark blue lace hugged her chest perfectly, emphasizing the gentle swell of her breasts. It flared out into a simple skirt that brushed against her thighs, hinting at the strength and grace that lay beneath. The intricate patterns of the lace highlighted the curves of her body, drawing the eye to the delicate yet powerful figure she now possessed. As she moved, the dress shifted with her, the fabric clinging to her in a way that was both elegant and seductive. The dark blue lace contrasted beautifully with her glowing skin, creating a striking visual that was impossible to ignore. Every movement she made was a testament to her regained vitality, her steps confident and sure, her presence commanding and undeniable. As she approached, the soft scent of her perfume—a blend of jasmine and something darker, more mysterious—wafted towards me, enveloping my senses and making it difficult to think clearly. I watched her intently, every step she took drawing her closer, increasing the tension in the room. There was an elegance to her movements, a grace that was impossible to ignore. Her presence filled the room, making it feel both smaller and infinitely more significant. She finally stopped just before my desk, her eyes meeting mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

“What brings you here, my dear?” I asked, my voice a low murmur that barely broke the silence. I couldn't help but lean forward slightly, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. “Is there something you need?”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking to the side before returning to mine. “I... I just wanted to see you,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of vulnerability that tugged at my heart. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Her concern, genuine and unguarded, was a stark contrast to the hardened world we both inhabited. It was a reminder of the humanity we still clung to, despite everything. I stood, closing the distance between us in a few swift steps, and gently took her hand in mine. "I'm here," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

Her fingers tightened around mine as I pulled her back toward the chair I had been sitting in. I helped her perch on my lap, her feet barely grazing the floor in the tall chair. The warmth of her body against mine was grounding, a comfort I hadn't realized I needed until that moment. "I met someone in the library," she started, her voice soft and hesitant. I looked at her in confusion. "She said her name was Zariel."

I knew every single one of my spawn—personally. I knew their names, what they looked like, and where they were at all times. There was no Zariel on my team and I think I would remember turning one of the rulers of Avernus. My mind raced, trying to place the name and the potential threat it could represent. "What did they look like, my pet?" I asked, keeping my voice steady to avoid alarming her. As I waited for her response, I found myself absently winding her hair around my fingers, the silky strands providing a small distraction from my growing unease.

Cassara took a deep breath, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "She had greenish skin, almost like a faint tint. Her hair was black and curly, cut short around her face. She had sharp black horns and a round pair of glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were red, and she seemed...familiar somehow." She paused, searching my face for any sign of recognition. “She said my friend Caty had caught her eye.”

My mind continued to work at a frantic pace. A green-skinned tiefling with black horns and red eyes. Realization flooded my features, and I shook my head in familiar disappointment but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “Her name is Sanna.”

Confusion passed over Cassara, and I could see her body tighten in anger. “Why would she lie to me?”

I forgot how sheltered the poor girl had been, briefly remembering how she told me about growing up in a Druid village. She had no idea who Zariel even was, let alone why Sanna had used that name to mess with her. “Darling,” I began, gently taking her chin in my hand to make her look at me. “It is a prank she pulls on everyone that walks through these halls. You are new and close to me, and I swear she’s a kind of trickster.”

Cassara's eyes searched mine, the initial anger giving way to a mix of confusion and hurt. “But why would she want to trick me? I don’t understand.” Her voice trembled slightly, the vulnerability in her tone tugging at my heart.

“Sanna enjoys causing a bit of chaos,” I explained, my thumb gently stroking her cheek. “It's her way of testing newcomers, of seeing how they react. It’s nothing personal, my pet. Just her twisted sense of humor.”

Cassara’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, though the hurt lingered in her eyes. “I don’t like being made a fool of,” she admitted softly.

I pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her in a comforting embrace. “You are no fool, Cassara. You are strong and smart. Sanna's tricks mean nothing compared to your strength. She will learn that in time.”

Her body melted into mine, the tension slowly easing away. “I just want to fit in here, Astarion. It’s all so new and overwhelming.”

I pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting my lips linger there for a moment. “You will find your place here, I promise. And I will be here with you every step of the way.”

She nodded against my chest, her breathing evening out as she took comfort in my words. “Thank you,” she whispered, the gratitude in her voice making my heart swell.

She shifted her position so she faced me, straddling my lap, and I felt myself freeze underneath her. What was she— My thoughts were cut off as she blinked up at me through her long lashes with a look that could only equate to that of a small, innocent animal. A look that stirred many conflicted feelings and thoughts within me. When I saw her teeth begin to nibble at her bottom lip, I couldn’t hold back any longer. My hands found her waist almost immediately. “Pet, you are treading dangerous waters.”

“I just have a question,” she began, blatantly ignoring my warning. “Would it be possible for me to see Caty again? I’m sure she’s worried.”

My grip tightened around her at her question, and I took a deep breath to steady myself. “That is up to you, my sweet. I can arrange it if needed, but I need you to be prepared for what might happen.” I couldn’t help but think back to my own personal experience of trying to reconnect with old friends. They had told me they’d sooner drive a stake through my heart than converse with me anymore—not that Cazador would have let me anyway.

Cassara’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of hope mingled with apprehension. “What do you mean, what might happen?”

I sighed, my thumb tracing soothing circles on her waist. “When you see someone from your past, especially someone who hasn’t been through what you have, their reaction can be... unpredictable. They might not understand what you’ve become, or worse, they might fear you.”

Her expression grew troubled, and she lowered her gaze, her fingers absently playing with a loose thread on my shirt. “I just... I miss her. She was my best friend. She deserves to know I’m okay.”

I cupped her chin, lifting her face to meet mine. “And she will know, but you must be ready for whatever her reaction might be. You need to be strong, for both your sake and hers.”

She nodded slowly, determination flickering in her eyes. “I understand. I just want to see her, even if it’s just once. I need to know she’s okay too.”

I leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Very well, my sweet. I will make the arrangements.”

My gaze stayed on her as her hands found my chest, her palms resting lightly against the bare skin my open shirt displayed. I swallowed down the lump forming in my throat. In all of my sexual escapades, I was the one in control, relying on manipulation tactics to ensure my survival. To be in this position with someone who might actually care for me was an unfamiliar feeling. It left me feeling vulnerable but in a way I never thought possible. Her soft lips pressing against mine pulled me from my thoughts, and I held back a surprised moan. She shifted to pull herself flush against me, and in doing so, she brushed against my hardening cock. The noise her actions produced from me was something I couldn’t replicate if I tried—a deep, guttural sound that seemed to come from the very core of my being.

Cassara's lips curved into a small, knowing smile as she felt my reaction. Her fingers traced delicate patterns across my chest, sending shivers down my spine. “Astarion,” she whispered, her voice a seductive purr that made my heart race. “I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

Her words ignited a fire within me, a longing that went beyond mere physical desire. It was as if she could see through the layers of my carefully constructed facade, reaching the vulnerable man beneath. I couldn’t help but be drawn to her, my hands finding her waist and pulling her even closer. “Cassara,” I breathed, my voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

She leaned in, her lips brushing against my ear. “Then show me,” she murmured, her breath hot against my skin. “Let me in, Astarion.”

Her invitation was both exhilarating and terrifying. I had spent so long guarding my heart, hiding my true self from everyone. But with Cassara, I wanted to take that risk, to let her see the man behind the mask. My hands moved to her hips, guiding her movements as she shifted in my lap. The friction between us was intoxicating, a heady mix of pleasure and anticipation. As our lips met again, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate. I felt her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as if she couldn’t bear to be apart from me. The intensity of our connection was overwhelming, and I found myself losing control, surrendering to the feelings she evoked in me.

When we finally pulled back, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. “I’ve never felt like this before,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “You make me feel...alive.”

Cassara’s eyes softened, her expression filled with a tenderness that made my heart ache. “You are alive, Astarion,” she said softly. “And you deserve to feel loved.”

I froze. It was as if my brain short-circuited, and no response graced my mind. The room began to spin, the edges of my vision growing fuzzy. The only thing I could think about was getting away. I gently but firmly moved Cassara off my lap, my hands trembling. “I...I need some air,” I muttered, barely able to get the words out. The weight of her words, the sheer vulnerability they implied, was too much for me to process. I stumbled towards the door, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The walls seemed to close in on me, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Cassara called out to me, her voice tinged with concern. “Astarion, wait! Please, talk to me.”

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t face her, couldn’t confront the whirlwind of emotions she had stirred within me. I needed space, needed to regain my composure. As I stepped into a back corridor, the cool air hit my face, providing a small measure of relief. I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes and trying to steady my breathing. My heart pounded wildly in my chest, each beat reverberating in my ears like the echo of a death knell. The corridor around me seemed to shift and warp, the walls narrowing as if trying to suffocate me. I felt the crushing weight of countless years of manipulation, the ghostly presence of Cazador’s control tightening its grip around my throat. I clutched at my chest, gasping for breath, my vision blurring as panic overtook me. Memories I had long tried to bury surged to the surface, each one a sharp blade cutting through my mind. Cazador’s cruel voice echoed in my ears, reminding me that I was nothing more than a tool, a pawn in his twisted games. His face, twisted in a sadistic smile, loomed before me, the image so vivid it felt real. The idea of being loved, of being worthy of love, felt like a cruel joke, a dream too fragile to hold onto.

I sank to the floor, my back against the cold stone wall, my mind a tumultuous storm of doubt and longing. The thought of letting Cassara in, of allowing her to see the broken parts of me, was terrifying. My breaths came in shallow, erratic bursts, each one a struggle against the invisible chains that seemed to tighten around my chest. I pressed my hands to my temples, trying to force the memories away, but they only grew stronger, more insistent. The hallway felt like it was closing in on me, the darkness pressing against my vision. My fingers dug into the stone floor, searching for some anchor, something to hold onto. The past and present blurred together, and for a moment, I was back in Cazador’s lair, his voice taunting me, his touch a constant reminder of my powerlessness.

I stayed there, curled up on the cold floor, for what felt like an eternity. Each breath was a struggle, each heartbeat a reminder of the chains I thought I had broken but still felt. Alone in the corridor, I was a prisoner of my own mind, grappling with a past that refused to let me go and a future that seemed uncertain and terrifying. Finally, I forced myself to stand, using the wall for support. The world was still spinning, but I had to move, had to get away from the suffocating confines of the castle. I stumbled through the halls, my thoughts a chaotic swirl, needing the solace of the night air to clear my mind. Cassara’s words echoed in my ears, a haunting reminder of what I had been given and what I was so afraid to lose.

[namespara]

Astarion thought he was the biggest monster at camp.

I believe in dark urge/astarion supremacy. They can make each other better. They can make each other worse. They're assholes. They love so deeply. In this essay i will-

[lunian]

Gale: *practices shadow magic*

Lae'zel and Shadowheart: wtf

Astarion: TWIRLING HAIR GIGGLING KICKING FEET

[sunsetagain]

BG3 X RE8

treasure item: crystal Astarion

[mercymaker]

And just because you're a caring, benevolent leader, doesn't mean you can't treat yourself every now and then. (x)