#HIS DUMBASS EYES AREN'T ALIGNED ...

[nyxincarnat3]

Behold, the only piece of art I've made that actually looks good 🥲🔫

[last-but-not-the-least]

Ava is.... so interesting. Intriguing. She had to kill her kin to get where she is rn. Did she do it out of selfish desire? Maybe. Or maybe she did it to survive? Usually when you want to leave a... let's say, an organization with deeply entrenched values. They raise you in an environment where you aren't allowed to question their principles. They stifle you, isolate you from the truth, so you'll be easier to control. e.g. the Sharrans (poor Shadowheart🥲) So when your principles don't align with theirs anymore? Well, they're not gonna let you leave unscathed, are they?

But also also. We don't know if she was telling the truth. Her bitterness about her past seemed real enough but honestly? It could be anything. And that's exactly what gets me about Ava. You can't be sure, you can only speculate. A part of me wants to dislike her cuz how dare she bully our sweet Astarion??😭 😤😠🗡 But on the other hand, maybe she is being honest about not wanting to hurt either Tav or him. Maybe she's just doing what she's doing to survive. I don't even think she trusts her lover. 👀 But that's the beauty of characters like her! It really puts us in Astarion's mind, the way even he couldn't decide whether he can trust Ava or not, but really wishes he could. Cuz if he can't? If he trusted the wrong person? Its just going to make him feel more guilty about putting Tav in danger. (My guy can't catch a break 😭)

But on the flip-side, involving Tav in this mess was DEFINITELY not a way to get on Astarion's good side. Really what were you thinking, Ava?? 🙄 Perfect villainous liars don't mess up like this, right? Which makes me think, there's definitely more to her than meets the eye. A vulnerable, terrified part of herself she's trying to protect. She kinda reminds me of Astarion in the beginning of the game. Though she's definitely less of an idiot for several reasons. 👀 (I'm sorry Astarion, I love you but you ARE a dumbass and an adorable one at that 😭❤). I've come to really like Ava because of how much depth you've already given her, even with the small details. Maybe I'm reading her character entirely differently than what you intended but I can't help but speculate! 👀

And maybe I have a soft spot for hurt assholes with a vulnerable heart lmao could you tell ahahaha 😭

The ending was pain. Pure, undiluted pain. I love it. The guilt, the frustration, the self-hatred is so well depicted! Recovery is so painful, and slow. It requires so much patience, sometimes even more than you can muster. But he is so so so very strong, our darling vampire 😭❤❤ I wish he could see it too. How well he controls himself, even when his control is breaking apart at the seams. Like, if I were in his place I would've caved so hard it wouldn't even be funny. Can you imagine being a STARVING vampire and resisting the one thing makes you feel alive, simply because you LOVE that person so much, its more potent than your body-breaking hunger?? Resisting something that SUSTAINS you?? Getting distracted from THAT when you hear your beloved's LAUGH?? Because they matter to you more than ANYTHING??? Like??? Who else is doing it like him???

I'm so excited to see where the story goes from here! What Ava is going to do during interrogation (I'm sure we're not getting answers from her that easily), how Astarion pulls himself together (Ik he will!! 🥺) and what the dumbasses-in-love will do to protect each other!! (I can never get enough of this trope okay??) Trust me you're doing the lord's work with these updates! 😭❤❤

our lord and saviour being Astarion ofc

Have a hug! Take care! ❤

The Arrangement (12) - In the Beginning

Chapter summary: Astarion meets up with Ava and it triggers something deep within him.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Mention of masturbation. Dissociative episode. Bloodlust.

Word count: 4.8k

Series Masterlist . Ao3

He should have known this would happen eventually. 

His love affair with the sun had reached an unavoidable end. Yet again. Luck had seldom ever been on his side, so this shouldn’t sting this much.

But it did.

His eyes darted to the half-moon window high up above through which scorching shafts of sunlight tore and lit up the dingy cellar.

Revulsion stirred within him and the flares of anger threatened to consume him whole.

The very same sun rays in which he had bathed for weeks were now a sore reminder of his true and inescapable nature.

He titled his head back against the wooden crate, his eyes fluttering shut in defeat as he sat on the cold floor.

Astarion had served his purpose and was now cast to live in the shadows once more, bound to his hunger and to all the inconveniences of being a vampire spawn.

The pain of being scorched by the sunlight had been revived in his mind after weeks of freely strolling around the Sword Coast in some impromptu quest to save Baldur’s Gate whilst having to deal with an inconvenient wriggling dweller inside his head.

But all the physical pain of being burnt mercilessly paled in comparison when his ears picked up approaching footsteps.

He knew who they belonged to.

The sound was carved into his mind like a dagger that wouldn’t budge.

You.

He winced as the squeaky door was pushed open. 

“Astarion?”

He gritted his teeth, silently praying you’d simply walk away and leave him to his misery. 

But his prayers had never been answered before, and that wasn’t about to change now, least of all when it concerned you.

In truth, he doubted any God above would be able to keep you from plaguing his thoughts.

“Astarion, I know you’re in here.”

Then leave.

He remained silent, eyes fluttered shut and an urge to be swallowed whole by the ground below.

Light and careful footsteps drew near and only came to a halt as a swift rush of air indicated to him that you were crouched in front of him.

Shit.

“Hello,” you said and he could hear the warm smile in your voice.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and he was sure that if he had a beating heart, it would most likely skip a few beats. Instead, he felt his stomach lurch as hunger simmered dangerously.

Your kind eyes met his and he craved nothing more than to have you be gone. 

From all the afflictions he was yet again a slave to, you were by far the most painful one.

“Did you come here to mock me?” he spat, the poisonous words leaving his mouth before he could hold back.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Mock you? Astarion–”

But he cut you off like a knife through flesh. “Spare me – I saw the way they laughed as my skin crumbled to ashes. So if you’ve come here to have your share, you can just leave.”

He was being unfair and he didn’t need your wavering smile as proof.

After all your travels together and his unrequited feelings towards you, he couldn’t fight his arrogance from surfacing.

But you never gave up on him – through deceit and manipulation, you were unmoving and relentless in your loyalty to him.

“I’ll have you know that I scolded all of them for doing so,” you said firmly. “It was uncalled for, especially after everything we’ve been through together.”

His jaw clenched harder and his eyes narrowed. 

Oh, he couldn’t stand it. That look on your face – pity. It immediately triggered a visceral reaction deep within him, and when he saw you reach out to him with your hand, he flinched away and recoiled against the crate behind him. 

“Don’t touch me.”

Your hand immediately stilled before dropping to your knee, and he saw a glint of sadness cross your eyes.

It wasn’t disgust or anger that caused him to utter such words.

He just knew your touch would ruin him and that he’d allow it.

“We can find a way to solve this,” you tried again with newfound determination. “We will find a way.”

He scoffed, averting his gaze.

Unfortunately, the laws of the worlds didn’t bend to the whims of lesser beings without compromise. 

And he soon realised what really bothered him was how vulnerable he felt – how exposed and weak he surely looked in your eyes.

Pathetic.

Useless.

Tainted.

Broken.

“Do you trust me?” 

He remained silent.

“Do you?”

Your insistence gnawed at his nerves, causing him to lock eyes with you again. 

“It goes beyond trust, darling. If walking in the sun again – or curing vampirism altogether – were that easy, I would not be here in the first place.”

Even through his snarky remark, you found a way to hold a smile and it immediately disarmed him. “Astarion, if there is anything our travels together have taught me is that we're quite good at turning the impossible into possible,” you said with conviction. “If there is a way to help you, we will find it.”

In another lifetime, he would have called you a foolish human who uttered big words without knowing their meaning.

But in this one, he did know you didn't extend promises lightly.

And if there was a sliver of hope he could cling to, he'd take it, especially now that Cazador was no longer around to compel him otherwise.

“Well, who's ‘we’, exactly?” he asked, easing himself against the crate.

Your face lightened up. “You and me, of course.”

The two of you. Just the two of you?

Oh, he liked the sound of that. Very, very much. 

His jaw slacked as hope kindled inside him, soaring dangerously high.

“Well, and Wyll – he's offered to help.”

Said hope plummeted back to the ground, shattering.

He scowled with a click of his tongue. “Did he, now? How chivalrous of him.”

You nodded. “I'm sure the others will come around, too.”

Astarion supposed this was a decent prospect, but almost grimaced when you extended your hand to him.

“Deal?”

He wanted to believe your relationship with him surpassed a mere friendship value, but he had grown tired of hoping for more.

Still, he would greedily take anything you would offer him.

Whether it was an indication that you craved more than friendship, or a simple handshake.

As such, he took your hand in his, revelling in the familiar warmth. “We have a deal, darling.”

Once he entered The Blushing Mermaid, it was evident that the presence of six Flaming Fists was not welcome at all.

Bork immediately asked for only two to stay inside as they were beginning to frighten the clientele.

But, much to his convenience, he immediately found who he was looking for, sitting in the furthermost corner of the lounge area.

Ava.

The plan was simple: try to get a confession from her – if applicable – but they would still be bringing her in for questioning as Rob Sorel, her lover, awaited her with Wyll.

A measured smile spread across her face as she noticed the fists behind him.

He slithered to her table with determined steps, aware that there was a possibility that this conversation would lead nowhere.

He slowly took the seat across from her, casually placing his twin daggers on the chipped table.

Ava's eyes dropped momentarily before meeting his again. “Oh, Astarion. Offering a silent warning with poison-coated blades? You needn't do that with me.”

Astarion's lips twitched upwards in silence.

He knew this dance better than most. He could read others quite efficiently when it came to sudden shifts in body language, and he had noticed Ava sitting straighter and her saccharine smile wavering all of a sudden.

And he had her right where he wanted her.

“You can't be too careful. Isn't that what some say?” he said, absentmindedly drumming his fingers along the handle of one dagger.

She took a sip from her cup before tilting it. “I'd order one for you, but I know this isn't your drink of choice – unless you brought her along for a sip, that is.”

Her taunt was enough to set him ablaze and the tip of his blade was immediately carved into the wooden table, earning a jolt from her.

“You do not get to goad me with her,” he snarled, gripping the handle so fiercely he might snap it in half. “She is off limits and you were delusional to even think you could bring her into this without consequences.”

Suddenly, her face twisted into a hard scowl and whatever traces of sweetness vanished. “I would not do anything with her without talking to you first.”

“You still offered her a deal, thereby roping her into something she is not to be a part of,” he retorted. “Her blood is off limits. She is off limits.”

Ava leaned back with a roll of her eyes. “Is this a case of you not wanting to share? Not even if that could be beneficial to you?”

His grip loosened slightly as his brows furrowed. “What is your point?”

She took another sip. “Her blood mixed with yours could be beneficial to my experiment and, thus, to you and even that massive horde of spawn in the Underdark.”

Of course Ava would want to play her cards right to keep him around.

It was a temptimg prospect, and he would never consider it at your expense.

He was no fool and you were no bargaining chip.

“I could never ask that of her. She stays out of this.”

She forced a yawn. “Have you forgotten your arrangement with her? Her blood for your good behaviour? Or does all sense of reason rush to your cock when you feed on her?”

Ava's words slashed through the air and he was momentarily taken aback.

The nature of your arrangement with him was vastly different. It wasn’t as simple as him being kept in line like some obedient pup. He could have turned the offer away and live exclusively off boars and deers – much to his horror.

The difference was… well, you.

Your unwillingness to let him go.

Your blood.

Your insistence on helping him keep his mind clear by allowing him to freely feed on the blood of a thinking creature.

And not just any thinking creature.

You.

His first.

The only blood he craved to the point of madness.

“Though, I can tell you haven't fed in a couple of days,” she went on with a dramatic pout. “A lover's quarrel, hmm?”

Oh, she was vicious.

This was the same woman who had shared a bed with him to ease him coming to terms with intimacy. For the most part, her simply being naked by his side hadn't helped much, but it seemed enough, and he was desperate to overcome the prison that his mind had become.

However, this was also the same woman who slayed her kin without hesitation.

She could go from being as kind and sweet to holding a stake to his chest.

Astarion felt a sense of dread wash over him as he realised he had greatly underestimated her.

Now, he needed to tread lightly.

The blade sunk deeper into the table as he leaned closer. “You wanted her blood in exchange for information.”

“Yet it is a far less selfish bargain than your arrangement with her, is it not?”

He ignored tar taunt. “Who is after me?”

“I do not know yet.”

He gritted his teeth. “Lies.”

Ava's face softened and he watched her slip into her usual overly sweet demeanour. “Astarion, we can be here all night hurling accusations and witty remarks at each other,” she said with a sigh. “Or we can approach this in a more sensitive manner.”

He didn't budge. “Who is after me?”

“I do not know who is after you,” she said. “Someone is, but I have yet to find out who.”

There was something in her tone that felt disingenuous. Almost as if she hadn't expected him to press her on this.

“Or there is no one at all besides you,” he said casually.

Her eyes widened slightly. “Me? And what would I gain from doing such a thing? Your blood is an integral part of this experiment. Locking you up in a prison cell would prove to be a nuisance.”

His patience was wearing thin.

“Darling, I've been around long enough to know people lie – you are a pristine liar, but a liar nonetheless.

In truth, he was merely bluffing in an attempt to spot any cracks in her story. He needed anything he could get from her.

And a part of him still hoped this was all a misunderstanding.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “I can see what you are trying to do and it won't work.”

He thought as much. Still, he had to give it a try.

“What about Waterdeep?”

For the first time that night, Ava looked genuinely dumbfounded. “What about it?”

“No casual killings over there, hmm? In the past hours – accidental ones, perhaps?” he pressed.

She frowned deeply in response. “What are you accusing me of, exactly?”

“Someone was murdered and I am simply trying to rule you out as a suspect,” he said, feigning concern. 

“You overestimate my reach outside Baldur's Gate.”

He scoffed. “But not the reach of a certain patriar who so happens to be your lover.”

Ava's lips parted but she didn't utter a word.

“Rob Sorel has dealings in Waterdeep and knows which strings to pull to order a murder.”

She was visibly agitated, but he couldn't tell the cause. Was it the mention of a patriar? Or was he simply nearing the truth?

“Who was killed?”

It was all pointless.

A shame.

He merely turned in his seat and motioned for the two Fists at the door. Both immediately approached with the Mage Slayer right behind.

By this point, Astarion wasn't sure if Ava was even involved in this at all, but he couldn't take any risks. She would be taken in for questioning regardless of his judgement.

“Astarion?”

The room was immediately plunged into silence as multiple heads turned to watch the scene. From behind the counter he spotted Bork shaking his head in clear disapproval, visibly displeased with the ordeal.

“Astarion? What are you doing?”

His eyes met hers as he sheathed his daggers. “The right thing.”

He was known to do that from time to time, even against his better judgement.

She rushed to her feet, clawing at her dress in search of her own dagger. “Astarion!”

He could hear the rising panic in her voice, and he silently watched as the mage cast Hold Person on her before she could so much as blink.

She was instantly left petrified in place as the violet sign on the floor caged her in.

Gasps echoed around him and the two Fists promptly rushed to her side.

“We'll handle it from here,” one of them told him.

There was a part of him that vaguely wondered if this was the correct approach. 

A part of him that hoped for Ava not to be involved in any of it.

And then, from across the room, he saw you.

He blinked twice, thinking his eyes betrayed him, but there you were, standing by the door with a Fist at your side, staring back into his crimson eyes.

And it was as if he had been mentally slapped.

Ava had dared to involve you.

You.

And it had been his fault.

The unruly and dense crowd in the room wasn't enough to contain him from darting hurriedly to meet you.

Annoyance hit him first and it was woven into his words once he was in front of you, gripping your forearm. “Why are you here? I told you to let me handle this.”

You immediately yanked free with narrowed eyes. “I wasn't trying to interfere. But this idiot,” you said, pointing to the Fist who merely shrugged, “pushed me inside and – wait! How did it go with her?”

Astarion caught hold of your shoulders, pulling you to the side as Ava was carried away through the door.

As soon as it closed behind them, the fanfare commenced once more in between heated whispers and glares from those around the two of you.

“Marvellous as you can see,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “She didn't confess to anything, and I had limited time.”

You pushed the door open once again and he promptly followed you outside, until he felt a hard shove from someone's hand.

“Move, spawn.”

He glanced over his shoulder only to see a frowning Fist right behind.

“We are not cattle to be ordered around,” he spat, adjusting his vest. “Honestly, Wyll ought to have you all stand trial for severe lack of manners.”

“It's Duke Ravengard to you,” the Fist growled, hand on the hilt of his sword.

Astarion clicked his tongue humorously. “It's Wyll to me and Duke Ravengard to you, Fist.”

Before tensions could escalate any further, you were already tugging at his sleeve, and dragging him across the wooden pier.

Just as the Fist opened his mouth, a myriad of clashing and banging sounds were heard from inside and he turned to open the door.

Probably a tavern brawl.

What fun!

Seconds later, the armoured man was toppled to the ground as the door burst open with people yelling profanities and slinging fists at each other.

“I'll kill ya! WHERE IS MY CHICKEN, YOU OAF?” a drunkard missing most of his teeth yelled, holding a frying pan in his hand.

“YOU ATE IT, YOU IMBECILE!” said another, stepping on the fallen Fist and nearly losing his balance.

Behind them, Astarion spotted several items being tossed whilst Bork's voice begged for order.

He almost clicked his tongue.

Tavern brawls were too much fun and he always adored adding fuel to the fire by standing on the side and instigating these drunkard fools.

But a quick glance at you and he could tell you wouldn't approve of such activity, so he remained at your side.

The other two Fists that were standing guard nearby, clumsily rushed to the entrance.

“Go call for backup!”

The youngest nodded and nearly bumped into Astarion as he tried to keep his helmet steady.

“Oh! Do not leave! Do not move!”

Astarion immediately raised both hands innocently. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

“Right. Thank you!”

Idiot.

Surprisingly, you hadn't let go of his sleeve and your hand moved to his wrist, pulling him to cross the road until you reached the metal balustrade that allowed a privileged view over the Grey Harbour Docks.

It was far away from the chaos that had erupted, but not quite far that would potentially get you into trouble.

Although… “Maybe we should leave.”

Astarion arched an eyebrow at you. “And going against the voice of authority?”

Your face dropped and he fought the urge to pinch your cheek teasingly.

You were so easy to rile up.

“You scheming little delinquent, you,” he said with a devious smile and a chuckle. “I'm all for acts of rebellion, but we ought to stay nearby this time.”

“Do you think we should go help them out?” you asked, glancing over at the rising commotion nearby.

The two of you exchanged looks before shrugging.

“No. They can fend for themselves,” you said, leaning over the fence, eyes set on the lulling sea that spread vastly into the distance.

“Actually, they're quite incompetent, but I don't feel like creasing my shirt,” he said with an annoyed click of his tongue, inspecting his sleeves as he joined you. “Let them fight off the drunkards. We get to collect the scattered coins on the floor afterwards.”

You shot him a curious look. “You do that?”

“Well, obviously? I put the gold to good use, at least.”

“Embroidery?”

That tugged a genuine smile from him and he caught himself staring at you under the moonlight.

Gods.

He would never tire of admiring your beauty and how it was almost embarrassingly too easy for him to get lost in your eyes.

It also didn't help that he hadn't fed in a few days.

Bloodlust clouded his mind and made his insides turn.

It was the soft sound of your voice that snapped him from his thoughts. “What now? I mean… Ava.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, they are to interrogate Rob Sorel and see how both their stories hold up.”

You heaved a deep sigh. “So we wait.”

“We wait.”

Astarion had grown used to the silence that would often settle around the two of you. It wasn’t an uncomfortable one. It was the kind that he had never experienced before.

He wasn't sure there was a name for it, but he knew the feeling attached to it all too well.

The silhouette of passing ships on the horizon, dancing along the calm waters added to the overall soothing atmosphere.

He could stay a while longer like this.

With you.

His eyes eventually darted to the side and he nearly jolted when your head turned to him, as if you had felt his burning gaze.

“You can feed on me once we get home.”

He wanted that.

He needed it.

He craved it.

But… “I can do without your blood for a while longer, darling.”

A white lie.

He could feel his mind spotting and blanking at times already, especially when near you. Maybe he had gotten too addicted to feeding on you to the point his body could no longer go extended periods of time without blood.

Your blood.

And as much as he appreciated your offer, he needed to withstand his hunger.

Ava's words echoed in his mind and he almost felt repulsed from having allowed himself to be so dependent on you and putting you through it in the first place.

“Are you alright?” you asked, visibly worried.

“Yes – of course, darling,” he forced a smile to curl his lips.

Your hand came to rest on his forearm. “Astarion, you can feed on me. I mean it.”

His eyes dropped to your neck, the symmetrical puncture wounds still visible from when he had last bitten you.

Hunger swelled to the point of agony and he could almost smell your blood and feel it coursing through your hand.

You gave him a reassuring nod, which only made it harder for him to resist the urge to give in.

“I should go hunt, actually,” he eventually managed to say and his words felt like ash in his mouth.

You chuckled slightly, squeezing his arm. “You'd probably have to bring a Fist with you.”

He grimaced, but appreciated your attempt at diffusing the tension. “They would end up being the ones hunted by some beast in the woods, and I would have to step in and save the godsdamned idiot.”

Your eyes widened and then you laughed.

Hard.

And it was the most comforting sound he had ever heard in a long while.

It was enough to steer the bloodlust away and he laughed with you.

“It reminds me of the first time you fed on me,” you said, wiping off the teardrops that had formed in the corners of your eyes from laughing. “Remember? When you drifted off into the woods to hunt for something more ‘filing’?”

Oh.

Shit.

His smile wavered and you immediately caught on to the sudden shift.

“What?”

He thought he had told you what truly happened that night….

…. he hadn't?

“Well… I…” his words failed him and as he pondered how he should approach the topic.

Concern suddenly splattered across your face. “What is it? 

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I didn't exactly go hunting,” he said with a tense chuckle.

You remained silent, waiting for him to go on.

“I just had to get away from you… to… uhm, well – take care of a little problem that stirred whilst I fed on you, if you catch my meaning.”

He allowed the implication to dangle from his words, and it wasn't a particularly subtle one.

And then your eyes widened once more in sudden realisation.

“Oh… it makes sense,” you said all flustered, withdrawing your hand from his arm. “You did say my blood feels really good.”

‘Good’ was an unfair understatement.

It always felt divine.

“Don't misunderstand,” he quickly added. “It was totally out of my control. I was quite surprised when I realised just how…” hard he had gotten.

“Just how…?”

“Just how much your blood affected me.”

He could remember it clearly in his head.

How desperate he was to slip into the woods and find a secluded place so he could see just how much of a mess his trousers were.

He could feel it, obviously, but he wouldn't know the extent of the ‘'damage’ until he undid his trousers.

“Did you… get…. really hard?” you drawled out in a hushed tone as if scared someone other than him might overhear you.

Astarion figured this was the last topic he expected to be addressing given that the background noise consisted of screams and threats and loud noises and glass smashing.

Hardly the right ambience.

“Yes.”

He could almost remember the feel of the bark of the tree digging into his back as he hurriedly undid the lacing at the front until he was able to free his cock.

“And what did you do?”

Were these merely questions that stemmed from curiosity or were you trying to stir something else…?

“Well…” he started, “you can't expect me to reveal such things aloud.”

He watched you swallow hard as you nodded. “You can say in my ear, then? If you want to, of course,” you quickly added.

You were too adorable and he was in dire need of a distraction from his bloodlust.

This would suffice.

He leaned closer, and pressed a kiss to your heated cheek before his lips grazed the shell of your ear.

“I had to take care of it.”

You shuddered.

His cock had never been as hard and as thick before he had fed on you. It had made him utterly speechless to see all the precum dripping from the tip.

He had been almost too scared to even touch it.

But when he did….

The groan that had erupted from his throat had been too difficult to rein in. His cock had felt warm and it had throbbed from your blood coursing through it, giving it a faint pink tint to it.

“In the woods?” you asked, gripping the railing with both hands.

“Yes.”

He could hear the faint beating of your heart increasing. “What if someone had run into you?”

His cock twitched.

Innocent, little pup…

“Why, darling… did you want to run into me,” he lowered his voice as his lips brushed against your ear. “fucking my hand in sheer despair?”

You gasped.

Despair didn't quite cover it. 

He couldn’t remember a time when he had ever felt like he'd implode lest he reached climax.

It was a novelty and he had felt… alive. 

He had heard of how delectable the blood of thinking creatures could be, but he had never anticipated this feeling of fullness and how addictive it could be.

“It was so warm… from your blood, sweetheart,” he purred, feeling himself getting carried away.

You bit your quivering lip before replying, “Did it feel good?”

Maybe too carried away.

And when you shuddered again under his faint touch, it was as if he had been slapped back into another plane of existence.

He suddenly straightened himself and blinked.

What was he doing?

His abrupt change in demeanour was enough to earn a reaction from you, and he could see lust in your half-hooded eyes as you stared at him in confusion.

And just like a tidal wave that one couldn't hold back, he felt disgust and revulsion lacing themselves into a powerful mixture that caused him to take a step back.

His mind was flooded with Ava's accusatory words and the memories of him seducing you for his own benefit.

“Astarion?”

Your voice was miles away and he couldn't even bring himself to blink anymore.

The nauseating feeling was heightened by the fact that he had a very inconvenient erection strained against his trousers, begging for attention.

“Astarion… what is it?” 

Your voice seemed even more distant than before, as if he had been plunged into a well and couldn't get out.

Why couldn't he get out?

Why was his cock so hard, but his mind so repulsed by it?

And the impending feeling of dread began to slowly overtake him like storm clouds rolling over the mountains, bent on flooding the land below.

And when it began to rain in his mind, it poured.

He needed to get away.

He needed to get away from you.

You tried reaching out to him with your hand, but he flinched away. “Don't touch me!”

And he could see it in your eyes.

Pity.

Again.

“I – I have to go.”

And he didn't look back.

TBC

[madaboutmunson]

People = Shit (Part 10 of 11 of Let Me Call You Sweetheart)

Warnings for the entire story not just this chapter: Darkfic, out of character Eddie Munson, alternative universe, present day, Death, abuse (emotional, mental and physical, harassment, violence, torture, imprisonment, coersion, unrequited love, drugs, alcohol, illness, blood, gore, food disorder, mental illness, vampirism, hypnotism, weirdness, the upside down, bats, monsters

@munchabunch

You watch the coffee pot gurgle away as you say across the table from Eddie, avoiding his eyes. You'd been putting up a good fight all night, but you weren't sure how much you had left.

You break the silence, "Do you think they'll let me play tomorrow?"

"I think they'd be a sorry lot of dumbasses if they didn't", he answers.

"I just want to play, you know? Nothing comes close to that feeling on stage, not a thing I've experienced in my whole life."

"Look, even if this time isn't your time, there will be other chances. It's not like the planets have to align. You actually have talent. I know you think it's just the guitar, but it's not. She lets you play like that, but she doesn't make you play like that," He says, leaning forward across the table towards you.

You get up quickly from your seat to get the coffee, anything to create distance between you both. You pour two cups and set them in the middle of the table, too afraid to place the cup near him.

He pulls the cup towards him. You roll your eyes at yourself. You forgot the sugar and cream. You reach over the sink to get it when you hear Eddie shout, "Enough!"

You turn towards his voice, but he moves impossibly fast towards you, his face inches from yours. His hands grip the counter top either side of you.

Through clenched teeth, he says, "I need you to relax."

"Jesus, Eddie! I'm calm ok" you say, looking at his face.

His eyes are trained on your neck, "No, you aren't", he says, biting his lips. You hear the countertop beside you crunch under his hand, "I really can't emphasise enough how much you need to relax right now because I am seconds away from draining the ever-living essence out of you" a droplet of blood runs down the side of his bottom lip.

You close your eyes quickly, think of playing the guitar in your closet, and take deep breaths. You were still afraid, but you manage to slow your heartbeat a little.

His eyes soften, and he lets go of the counter and moves back to his seat. You grab your coffee and chuck it down the sink.

You grab a saucepan, fill it with milk and malt powder, and heat it up on the stove.

You dare not look at him through fear of setting yourself off again.

"So...that explains...some things," you try to joke a little, pouring yourself a hot malt drink.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," he says, almost annoyed.

"Would you rather I stayed over here, or may I sit back down?" You ask.

"You can sit," he says

You sit in your chair and take a sip of your drink, looking at the table, "At least I feel slightly less insane about the whole guitar thing now", you laugh.

"How are you like this?" He laughs.

"Dude. I have felt insane all week, and this made me feel normal, like, oh, Vampire, that makes sense. It's the first thing that made sense this time!" You smile at him.

"And you can just accept that?" Eddie says, tilting his head at you.

"Seriously, I threw someone across a room with the power of the guitar, which by the way was talking to me, in my head,  and is like obsessed with you....like, ending people obsessed. I think processing that a person I only see at night, who threatened to, and I quote, 'Drain me' and who can be entirely hypnotic, is a vampire is much easier to accept."

He leans back in his chair and gives a huge grin, exposing his fangs to your unashamedly for the first time.

"Well...I am flattered," he says, laughing.

"Ok, good, maybe you can tell me what the fuck is happening because I am losing my mind."

"Well-" He starts. Only to be interrupted by a knocking at the door.

You sit still in silence until you start hearing a dull thud against the door every few seconds, and you get up to answer it before someone breaks your door in two.

"Hey, please stop. I'm here." You say, putting the door chain across and opening up the door a little bit.

You are met with the sweaty face of Mr Harrington and a little wave from Dustin Henderson, "Is he here?" They say in unison.

You look over at where Eddie was, but he's gone.

"He's gone now," you say, unchaining the door.

Mr Harrington starts shouting into the air, "If you're still here, Eddie, we just want to talk"

"How desperate are you for these reshoots, exactly? " You ask, folding your arms.

"It's pretty urgent," Dustin says, pulling back a curtain sharply to see if Eddie is behind it.

"Now you've invited him in, you should probably come back to mine for safety", Mr Harrington reasons, still searching around.

"No, I'm good, thanks, Mr Harrington," you say kindly.

Dustin rounds on you, "You aren't afraid of Eddie?"

You look confused, "No...well...you know what, no. I have been alone with him often. I don't have many reasons to be afraid of him" this was a half-truth. Being pinned up against the counter had been scary, but now you know his truth. He could have literally killed you at any point but didn't.

"You've been *alone* with him", Mr Harrington panics.

"Oh geez, not like that," you say, disgusted.

Mr Harrington breathes a sigh of relief with his hand on his chest.

"But I mean, who could blame someone if they did, right?" You say a little too thoughtfully.

Mr Harrington shrugs a little, nodding, and Dustin shakes his head at you both.

You look over them both a bit more closely now. They are armed with wooden stakes, crossbows, and daggers.

"What the actual fuck?" You exclaim, "Are you trying to kill him??!"

They both freeze until Mr Harrington speaks, "He is not your friend." He says seriously, searching around the house.

"Ok, well, I'd prefer my home did not become a murder scene, ok? If I ever see him again, I'll ask him to call you. Unless, of course, this isn't about the game at all?" You eye them suspiciously.

Mr Harrington goes to say something, but Dustin stops him, "We just want to talk to him."

You narrow your eyes at them both. Something wasn't right here. Eddie had no reason to hide from them, and yet he did.

"Well, if he turns up again, I'll be sure to let you know" this time, it is actually a lie, and they know it, "I suggest you leave my house before I have to call someone to remove you."

Dustin looks at you like you are insane. Mr Harrington is still shouting into the air, "Eddie...we just want to talk...please...whatever you've got planned...just...we're sorry, ok?"

The sorry hangs in the air, and you feel your lip curl into a sneer.

"I think you should both leave." You say more sternly, your hand inching towards your guitar case.

"Steve...STEVE!!!" Dustin yells, walking backwards away from you.

Mr Harrington eventually diverts his attention from the air to you. He looks between you and the guitar case. You narrow your eyes at him and flick open a clasp.

As Mr Harrington goes to charge forward, Dustin grabs him and starts pulling him towards the door, "They're a lost cause", he looks to you as he shoves Mr Harrington out of the door, "We're leaving, ok" he puts his free hand in the air like he's surrendering.

You let them leave.

You run over to the door, put on all the locks, and barricade the door, moving around the house and ensuring all windows and doors are secured. Finally, you settle in the living room, your guitar case open next to you.

"Eddie?" You call out gently, the guitar strings hum, and a mist crawls along the floor to the armchair opposite, and slowly his form appears.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

"Why did you run?" You ask with genuine concern.

He steeples his fingers, "They won't allow me to explain, or at least won't try to understand, that all of this is a means to an end."

Eddie tells you what happened in 1986 "I couldn't go home, and they couldn't stay where I was. At first, they tried to split their time, but soon they had other responsibilities. As they got older, I stayed the same. As they had families, I stayed the same. As they betrayed me and left me to rot!! I. stayed. The. same." He emphasises each of those last words.

"But with time on my hands, I found I could do more than I realised. The first clue was the guitar, which initially they had been kind enough to leave me. But, if I played it right with all my might, I could see glimmers of the past or the future."

"I was foolish enough to tell them about my discoveries, intentions, and hopes that I could change my fate. They warned me about what could happen, but I just wanted to have my life back, grow old with them, but they refused."

His face looks furious, but his eyes swim with agonising pain.

"So they stole her from me. Hid her away in a vault, where no one could touch her. Then I had to wait. I waited so very long...years...decades. Wasting away. Feeding on wasteland creatures... Until she tempted someone to play her again. Oh, and when I heard her sing my name, I was home." He closes his eyes, and a tear escapes, but his face is pure ecstasy.

He leans forward in his seat, hunched over enthusiastically, "But one day, something weird happened. Someone called me. Some hippy dippy seance shit around Hawkins, and it thinned the veil. So I gave them a show. You know the whole lights flickering thing, spelling out their names, rookie shit. So more people came, and I gave them more theatrics each time the veil thinned. Once it was thin enough in that place, I eventually learned how to pass through the barrier without them. "

"It took me a year to track down both guitars, with the help of some people on this side of things. Minions, if you will. They wanted to be turned, and sure, I promised them I would, but I had no intention of doing it. Humans will do the wildest things if you can give them what they crave." He shakes his head and laughs. "I knew in my cold, dead heart that if it was possible to change my fate, I could change the fate of all of what happened in Hawkins."

He looks over at your open guitar case and looks back at you

"I couldn't get hold of the one in the vault, but I could get the veil thin enough there to pass through whenever I wanted, but to not sound the alarm, I had to leave her there in that...that...prison" his fists clench.

"It was the same story with the other guitar, I could do things, but there was not enough power. I dragged many a famous guitarist to their demise so we could play in unison, and though the power was there, the connection was not. I needed a soul match, one the guitars would respond to like they respond to me. Which I found completely by accident about two years ago."

"Two kids, desperate for love and stardom. All they needed was someone to pave the path for them to walk. Though one was more of a confident walker than the other." He gives you a wry smile

Your jaw drops a little, "Terry and Harley..." You say in a whisper. He nods.

"I gave them the objects of their affection. Jenna was easy. She was free to go wherever. But, for you, I had to lay a complex set-up. An affordable guitar, a job position suddenly opening up, but we got you there " he smiles proudly.

"Thankfully, due to toxic masculinity, Terry had a lot of wrestling with his feelings, or even, you know, expressing them. Which gave me time to get to know you. I saw how you lived. I saw your passions, your failings, your joy, your tears, your heart and soul. I saw it all, and I never once interfered."

"I'd obviously heard about the carnival, and for shits and giggles, I thought I'd scare the living hell out of Steve and Dustin by putting her in the window across the road."

He reaches over and takes your hand, "But then you saw her because she called you over, and the rest is history."

"I hide from them because they don't believe in me and would rather end me than take a chance on a different life."

"How do you know it will work?" You say curiously.

"Because we already did a test, remember?" He says, looking into your eyes.

"My nightmare? The guy with the spear. That was you before this. In the past?"

He nods and smiles happily, "We saved him," he says, gripping your hand between his.

"And I think we can do it for all of Hawkins. We just need enough power" he looks awkwardly at the floor.

"But the power isn't generated by the music alone?" You venture.

He shakes his head, "It isn't enough"

You nod, understanding, "The bat cull, right?"

"Right," he says

"Except the bats are too small fry to undo everything," you say nervously.

He takes your chin on his index finger and lifts it up, so you look at him again. "I'm not asking you to commit a sin you haven't already..." He says tentatively.

"Oh..." You say your eyes fill with tears, and your heart rate picks up, "I didn't imagine those things."

A flash of red glints in Eddie's eyes, "Relax, please", he says, tensing his jaw, "all of that is cleared away for you. No one will know except us."

You shut your eyes again and think about playing your guitar in the closet, but the guitar is dripping with blood, guts and brains.

You bring your knees up to your chest and clasp your hands over your head, gently rocking yourself. Trying to self-soothe to block out the panic. Then, snapshots flash into your mind with the realisation of what you had done. How could you have done those horrific things?!

Eddie snarls and grabs at your throat. He squeezes his eyes shut and just manages to reign it in, "GODDAMMIT!" He yells through his teeth and then shakily says, "I'm going to move away, alright? Do not, and I cannot emphasise this enough, do not make any sudden movements."

"Do you think it would help if you went out and found yourself something to eat?" You say hoarsely, keeping absolutely still, "Mainly because you keep telling me to relax, but it's you that's on a hair trigger."

"Touché," he says, wiping his mouth with his fingers, "I don't know how much it will help but let me see what I can find, and I'll be right back" he turns to mist and leaves again.

You curl up tighter into your ball and sob. You'd killed them. The first might have been an accident, but the second and third were very deliberate. So now you were a murderer. Who could possibly understand that?

Maybe if Eddie was right, he was your best chance. If you could pull this plan off, you could undo all of this.

Your phone buzzes, a message from Terry, "We want you to play with us tomorrow."

You think back to what Eddie had told you about your so-called friends. You weren't anything but a thing to them, a collectable, a lead guitarist, a potential love interest, not a person who could make their own way.

You grip the phone tightly and type through your ire, "Thank you so much. I'll make sure it's unforgettable!"

You take the time Eddie is away to sob and rage as much as you possibly can. You want to make sure to exhaust yourself, so you can remain as calm as possible around him.

You take it out on your surroundings. First, finding an old baseball bat and taking out the cabinets in the living room. Then all the delicate China dolls on display that were a daily reminder of what a less than perfect specimen you were. Next to meet their demise all your father's old sports trophies. A reminder of your own inadequacies.

You only stop when you almost cut yourself on some broken glass and decide to do a careful sweep-up. Before going out to sit on the back porch and try to use some star gazing to relax, so on his return you can understand the plan of action. You needed to be centred, focused, and with no distractions. You could do this. You could make this right.

Eddie assembles next to you, "Bet that can be a lot of fun", you say with half a smile.

"Oh, the mist stuff, yep, very handy. Speaking of...did you clear out your living room or something?" He says curiously.

"Or something", you mumble, looking at the floor.

Eddie puts his arm around your shoulders, and you quickly shrug out of it, "No one who really knew those people will miss them. They were bad, terrible people." He says

"Just because someone is bad doesn't give me the right to hurt them, Eddie."

"We are gonna change all that. We are gonna undo all of this"

"We are? At least that will be some good...I can't undo what I am now...who could ever understand what I did? Everyone hates me now, so fuck it, right?"

"I understand what you did. I'm on your side," Eddie says in earnest.

"Got a funny way of showing it", you laugh, touching your neck.

"Yeah, well, I'm trying my best here. Also, you are one to talk. I can fucking hear you avoiding my eyes," He says, frustrated.

"Because the voice in my head is actually insane for you, and no offence, but I'm like not there with it. In that bar, I felt that jealousy, but I knew it wasn't mine, but it was coursing through me."

"Yes, exactly...How can I put this...I've been at this undead stuff for quite a while. I can handle myself just fine around all sorts of heightened emotions, but when I hear your pulse race, it's not just your pulse. I can hear her too. So you are intertwined, just like me and mine. Except even if you were a Vampire, you wouldn't hear mine because I'm dead so... but just know it is so very, very, very tempting." He says, trailing off, looking at your neck again.

You clap your hands hard in front of his face, "Hey! No!"

He glowers at you.

"I'm just trying to keep it professional in here. Though I do have a couple of questions."

"Ok, shoot "

"You said you promised a bunch of minions you'd turn them, but you never did. Why? Also, have you ever turned anyone else into a vampire?"

"Mainly because they don't understand what they will miss out on or how much extra pain and loss you have to go through, and no, I've never turned anyone else."

"Would you?"

"No," he says quickly" Are you asking for yourself?"

"No, I don't think so. Even though the powers seem very cool, It sounds very lonely."

"So tomorrow..." He quickly changes the subject, "We'll take the encore when the place is full to capacity."

"Do you think this can really work? Like, we can barely sit in the same room as one another without something almost going wrong." You say, rubbing your hand down the side of your face, "And with the bats, you looked real bad at the end."

"In that place, I'm sort of part of all, so when you kill a bat or cut a vine, that happened to me too, but we aren't doing that this time. That won't happen again," he animatedly assures you.

"The other thing? Shit, I don't know. It seemed easier with the guitars there, though. Maybe we could..." He quickly grabs a chunky piece of stick for the floor, quickly slicing off the loose bark with one of his fingernails like it was a pen knife. Once satisfied, he says, "practice?" He puts it between his teeth, bites down on it, and tilts his head at you, raising his eyebrows.

You think for a moment, grab his bandana from his pocket, and hand it to him. He nods and ties it around his face knotting it at the back of his head.

You reach around the back of his head quickly and ensure the knot is tightened.

His head immediately snaps to look at your neck, and you hear a faint crunch sound next to your ear. You move away slowly and dare to look up at him. The whites of his eyes are red, and his usual brown eyes look like his iris has wholly disappeared.

"Sorry, I was just testing," you say, looking at the floor.

Something instinctively raises your hand upwards, so your palm is facing Eddie. He mirrors your actions, so your hands are a few centimetres apart.

You see a tiny dark swirling cloud appear in the gap, like the ones that filled the sky in your nightmare.

Your heart rate starts to pick up. Your eyes move between your hands and Eddies face.

He's trying desperately to keep his eyes on your hands.

"Closer.. " the voice in your head hisses. You slowly push your hand another tiny increment towards Eddie's.

The voice in your head exhales with pleasure, and the tiny swirling cloud disappears into a blip, like turning off an old TV.

Before you can register any disappointment, an explosion of red lightning erupts, encircling your hands and snaking its way up your arms.

You can see Eddie's demonic eyes squinted like he's smiling under there, and a drop of blood falls from his eye. "He's home," two voices say in your mind, you immediately feel your heart slow, and you feel entirely at peace for a few moments, but the electricity having nowhere to go, begins to burn your arm, and you have to tear your hand away.

You shake some sparks from your arm. "Shit!"

Eddie grabs you by your shoulders. You realise his restraints are missing, but he's not aggressively shaking you. It's pure, innocent excitement.

He smiles widely at you, his eyes returning to normal, "Oh my fucking god!!! We can actually do this. I know now, she told me. We are going to fix everything. Right back to Henry. We can save them all."

You look up at him and smile back, feeling for the first time that you were worthwhile, you could make a difference, you mattered, you weren't a waste of oxygen,  and you had a purpose.

You instinctively look away from him.

"Hey! no!" He says excitedly, turning your head back to him," it was just something we had to push past. Look!" He holds your hand near his again, and the sparks and smoke fire up straight away, but you aren't scared this time. Eddie's eyes don't change. "See!" He says, laughing, shaking his head.

You hear a car screech to a halt outside, "EDDIE!!" You hear Mr Harrington yell. Both your heads snap in the direction of the familiar voice.