#HS-HQ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

random-introverted-blog · 1 year ago

Text

Across Stars and Time [Ascended!Astarion x F!Reader]

Spawn vs Ascended oh my gawd

Edit: Due to incredibly popular demand on AO3 (again) this story has been converted to a full story called His Star - His Queen. It's being cross posted between here and AO3

Read His Star - His Queen on AO3

Read His Star - His Queen on Tumblr

Intended Audience: Mature [Merely a suggestion, like speed limits, right?]

Who be smoochin?: Astarion x F!Reader

The Bit: At long last, Astarion will be free of his master and you will be his most enthusiastic cheerleader as he ends Cazador, once and for all. So you think until you find an Imposter Astarion that waits in the center of the room for you. Cazador tortured and dying at his feet. And your Astarion, to his horror, faces the true cost of his ascension. You.

Warnings/Advisories: ANGST, no happy ending (though it ends on a brighter/hopeful note), major character death (not either Astarion, that would be too easy on both of them), references of past SA, references of suicide, a reference of sucidal ideation, violence, injuries, yandere doing yandere things, obsessive and possessive behavior, your boyfriend is getting the shit kicked out of him, your "husband" who is the same man from another universe is kicking the shit out of himself, "HERE COMES ASCENDANT ASTARION WITH THE STEEL CHAIR FROM THE TOP ROPE", is it time magic or jumping across realities, "SPAWN ASTARION WITH THE SUPLEX"

Words, all the word (count): a whopping 5,390

Writing art and breaking hearts in 3...2...1

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Save it for when I'm standing over Cazador's bloody corpse." Astarion had said when he stopped you from kissing him today.

And that was fine, sure, you really wanted to, but you could understand he was not in the head-space to be affectionate with you. It didn't change how he felt, or how you felt, so what did it matter? You could wait your whole life for his kisses and embraces and still die happy, so long as it was a life shared with him. There was nothing you wanted more than Astarion, baggage and all. No matter how unsure and self conscious he was about what he believed he lacked or couldn't give you. You crossed your fingers that it would be enough he would decide against completing the ritual. It would change him, that you knew without a doubt. And you were nervous it wouldn't be a change for the better.

You loved him for him, as much as you were afraid to use those exact words, and you had seen plenty of times what immense power does to people... your heart clenched thinking of that happening to him.

Nights nuzzled into his chest, legs tangled together, fingers in your hair. The safest and warmest you've ever felt was being in his cold arms. These were some of your best memories in the few you still held from your past life. And you made sure he knew he didn't even need to do any of that, the cuddles and kisses, to have your love. It was unconditional. It always would be.

You couldn't wait to stand with him as he finally ended this chapter of his life and turned the page, and his eyes toward a brighter future. Hopefully, if he wished it... it would include you.

But something was wrong. There wasn't a single servant to be seen in the whole place. You found the signet ring left on the floor in front of the sealed door and Astarion chalked it all up to Cazador paving the way for his "homecoming party". It didn't sit right with you, and you had tried to express as much to him but it just made him snap at you. After all, he spent two hundred years as a slave to the vampire lord. Who were you to question what he did and didn't know?

After that, you had kept your mouth shut. It hurt, but you had already forgiven his bad mood. You understood he was going through a lot, anxiety eating him from the inside out. So you kept your thoughts to yourself and did your best to keep your perceptive eyes peeled for any clues. Your gut instinct was right. When you found the elevator to the crypt, you had silently hoped it would ease your own troubled thoughts, your paranoia, but truth be told; it made it worse.

You looked among your companions to gauge if they perhaps felt the same. As rare as it was to see them all together on a mission, Astarion had earned their friendship just as much as you had, and not a one turned down the chance to deliver a long overdue beat down on Cazador Szarr.

But the only thing you registered on their faces was a determination for violence. Glad as you were, you were just as eager, of course, but that did little to soothe your nerves. It wasn't uncertainty, like Astarion's, much as he tried to mask it. No, something felt... changed. Unbalanced. Your tadpole, maybe? No, it was quiet as a babe. Your urges? No, your bhaalspawn blood, despite feeling a mite antsy, was relatively subdued.

As you crossed the crypt on the way toward the two large, ancient doors, a voice called out to Astarion. He stopped, glanced at you and turned slowly toward the cell. Expression impassive but footsteps cautious, until his eyes widened. "Sebastian??" He gasped, taking one step back.

"What are you doing out here?" The spawn asked, clinging to the bars. "You're supposed to be in there!" The man jabbed a finger toward the door.

Drawing your brows together, you glanced at the doors behind you, and you started to drift toward it. Screams caught your ears from within. Muffled, but sharper as you moved closer. A hand on your shoulder, and you found Gale, Halsin and Shadowheart at your back while Astarion was distracted with the spawn. Tempted as you were to stay, he seemed to be really distraught. Something was undeniably wrong now. Why were they so convinced he had already come through here?

Those screams were unlike anything you had ever heard, sounds of terror and agony that sent shivers down your spine. You had heard and seen a lot in your travels, you all had. But nothing quite like the sounds coming from beyond these doors.

Halsin took the lead and pushed the doors open, you close behind, Shadowheart and Gale took the rear behind you.

You were startled when the doors slammed shut behind Shadowheart, and the four of you looked among yourselves, searching for an answer for the other. When all you received were questioning stares, your eyes wandered to the center of the chamber and you descended the long stone staircase. Lining the platform, hovering above red sigils, were Astarion's siblings. Veils of darkness covered their faces, whatever it was doing, the source of their twisted symphony for relief.

Dead center of the platform, a figure in top-grade studded leather armor hunched over someone on their hands and knees. Hands visibly trembling against the floor, drenched in sweat.

As if sensing your presence, the figure tossed something from their right hand, a blade skidding across the floor, their now free hand raised in the air and snapped their long fingers. Instant silence fell over the ritual chamber. "Ah, there you are..." a voice greeted in a low, familiar purr. "I've been waiting..." they continued, slowly straightening to full height, presenting you the equally... hauntingly familiar white curly haired back of their head. "Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you." Looking over their shoulder before at last, turning to face you. "Waiting... to have you."

"What kind of sick magic is this? An identity spell?" Gale questioned, as confused and audibly disturbed as the rest of you. Bewildered at this seemingly perfect copy of Astarion. No... something was off. You just couldn't put your finger on it. It wasn't anything on a physical level, as far as you could tell. He wasn't wearing the same armor, though. Like you noted earlier, this was top grade studded leather armor, dyed a midnight black and dark red. Yours was wearing the set of Spidersilk armor you had pried from the dead drow woman back at the Emerald Grove.

"Cazador, if you think hiding behind his face is going to stop me from peeling yours from your bones, allow me to let you down now." You glared, readying your weapon and assuming your stance. The others followed your lead, as always.

But the Mimic chuckled, a soft, airy sound too like Astarion for it to be a mimic. "He won't be able to answer you, my dear" they chuckled, tone filled with amusement. "He's long swallowed his own tongue." You watched the deep crimson cloak sway behind them as they circled around the trembling man, turning him over their black boot. The man fell onto his back, and you assumed the dark-haired elven man, face swollen, bloody and almost too distorted to be recognized as a face, was all that remained of Cazador.

He gasped and wheezed, and the mimic used their foot to force Cazador's head up to face you, providing you a better look. Sure as they said, there was no tongue... or fangs, either. Only two gaps in the top row of teeth where they should be.

Unceremoniously, they dropped his head to the floor, and you realize the mimic hasn't actually taken their eyes off you since they circled around Cazador. "I am a man of considerable patience, but even I grew bored idling about, waiting for him to bring you to me, my treasure."

"A shapeshifter." You blurted out as the thought crossed your mind. "Really, an imposter of my lover? I'm almost flattered, dear sister" a mocking grin splitting your lips, hand tight around your weapon, magic crackling at your fingertips, waiting to be unleashed should they make a move against you.

The imposter raised their eyebrows before meeting your grin with their own. "No, darling. I'm more Me than that... creature you've been putting up with."

"What in the nine hells are you then?" you bite impatiently, tired of this back and forth. Something was wrong. Horribly wrong. That you couldn't figure it out was wearing on you.

Behind you, the doors burst open, but neither of you looked away from your standoff to see. Footsteps rushing down the stairs, "y/n!" Astarion called after you, coming to an audible skidding stop at the scene before him.

"I'm the man you love, pet." The Imposter responded, as if the rest of your team didn't just rush in, as if the real Astarion wasn't joining your side, daggers drawn. "I'm the man who in another life you denied, using a disintegrate scroll on yourself to reject everything I gave you. The man who has crossed the stars and time itself to return you to his side." They took a step toward you but you held your ground, ignoring every impulse to turn heel and bolt the other way as they partly lifted their hands from their side. "I am High Lord Astarion Ancunín. Vampire Ascendant." Smirking from ear to ear in a way that was undeniably Astarion. From the glance you spare at your Astarion, he seemed just as stunned, confused... worried.

Still, you searched him for it: deception, doubt, a half truth, anything and your heart sunk further, the more you found to only prove his point. To your horror, this was Astarion. Somehow, as he said, crossed the barriers of your realities to be here.

Ascendant... This is what Astarion would become if he completed the ritual.

You searched his eyes, for what you couldn't say for sure, something to reject this, reject him. Something that would wake you from this nightmare. His eyes were cold, dark with malice, lacking any of the warmth you felt when you stared into your Astarion's, they were commanding, all-consuming.

Your body stiffened, rigid. You couldn't look away.

"There..." The Ascendant sighs, almost dreamily, "come here to me, my treasure..." Extending his arms wide, inviting you into them, and you feel every muscle in your body acting on its own.

Panic nearly takes your senses. "No, I can't..." you force the words out before your throat tightens and your tongue stills.

But that's all he needs to hear to understand. Astarion's arm wraps around your waist as your feet move, pulling you into his arms instead. With a mind of its own, your body thrashes and squirms against him as if desperately trying to heed the Ascendants' command, but he doesn't let go. "Easy, darling, I've got you..." He murmurs in your ear, not unlike the nights he's comforted you, tied up and writhing on your bedroll. "I won't let him... I won't..." you detect the softest of tremors in his voice while you struggle to regain control of your limbs.

Behind you, you listen to your friends scrambling to form a protective line between both of you and the Ascendant. "I don't know what damnable creature you are," Wyll says from somewhere in the line, "but I know my friend Astarion, and that's enough reason for me to drive my blade through your putrid heart."

"What you are is an abomination." Halsin speaks right after him, "part of understanding and appreciating the artistry of life is understanding the role death plays in nature's beauty. But frankly... I cannot imagine any reason for your existence." He concludes with a harsh glare at the Ascendant.

Who merely lifts an eyebrow. "How imbecilic." He says impassively, glancing among your six friends. Suddenly his eyes glow and mist red, and with a wave of his hand the very shadows at their backs surge to life.

Halsin's shadow is upon him with a viciousness you've only seen in rabid animals, shredding him to ribbons before he even turns to face the monster.

Lae'zel holds her own well enough before hers takes her to the ground. Though it seems grim, she appears to be regaining the upper hand quickly.

Gale whips around and reaches to grab Wyll and cast Dimension Door, but his own shadow counterspells him and blasts him with a ray of frost so hard it sends him hurtling through the air.

The Ascendant watches the wizard sail past him with a barely suppressed humor to his features. "Oh, dear..." He mutters just loud enough to be heard, "not going quite the way you expected, is it?" He mutters, raising his hand to examine his nails. Only appearing mildly interested in the chaos unfolding in front of him.

Wyll dispatches his shadow, only to watch Karlach overwhelmed by hers, and he shouts in horror. Barely reaching her in time to block the downswing aimed for her chest.

"And how about you druid—Oh, dear..." he gasps, a feigned expression of shock flitting across his face, moving that same hand to his mouth, a wicked smile barely concealed behind his splayed fingers. You shiver at the sadistic delight dancing shamelessly in his eyes while he gawks at the sight of Halsin, savaged and lifeless, face down in a pool of his own blood. "You always had that coming, you dimwitted oaf. The first time too..." He huffs, straightening his posture and holding his head up as he leers down at the body with blatant disdain. "And you know what they say about your own worst enemy...." As he glances among your friends, one by one struggling and fending for themselves.

Astarion tugs at your arm when your body stills against his. "We need to go, now!" he hurries, dragging you behind him.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs before you pull your arm free. "We're just going to leave them?!" you ask incredulously, raising your voice, gesturing and looking behind you.

Shadowheart thoroughly thrashes her dark copy with impressive efficiency, diverting her energy now to the Ascendant. The familiar chant falls from her lips as she begins to cast Turn Undead. Vanishing in a blur of crimson mist, he reappears in front of her, and she successfully gets the spell off a mere second later.

But he stood there, unfazed. Flashing a wicked grin, he confidently takes hold of Shadowhearts' hands, lifting them up and then abruptly wrenching them in opposing directions, sending an uneasy wave through your body. She cries out in agony, and the Ascendant allows her to collapse to her knees before he callously brushes her aside with his boot, treating her as though she were nothing more than a worn-out toy.

Astarion takes your arm again, returning your attention to him and desperate urgency flashes over his features. "You don't understand. I know what he wants, and I won't let him—"

Just as he turns around for the stairs, a flash of red mist. "Tut-tut." The Ascendant scolds, clearly unimpressed, scowling at Astarion as the very shadows of the room gather around his hands.

Reacting faster than your vampire, you swiftly shove yourself between the two Astarions, acting on instinct.

Pain ripples through you unlike anything you've felt before, like a hammer of fire and ice that makes your blood boil and freeze all at once. The blast launches you back into Astarion hard enough to send you hurtling through the air, past Gale casting another spell.

Your body slams into the unforgiving coldness of the stone platform, causing a sharp intake of breath and a loud grunt of pain involuntarily slips past your lips. The force of the impact propels you into a chaotic, disorienting tumble, your cheek scraping the rough texture of the floor as you skid to a halt.

Despite the pain on your face, you dug deep and pushed on your arms, your body trembling slightly as you managed to roll onto your back. Vision hazy and unfocused. What in the sweet hells kind of magic was that?

Where's...?

Straining your eyes, you see Gale rushing toward you before ominous black chains materialized from the floor and curled around his arms and legs, forcefully dragging him to his knees. Instinctively reaching for the wizard but your thoughts and concerns quickly shift elsewhere at the sound of your name. Tilting your head backwards, your heart almost settles at the sight of your pale elf scrambling to his feet toward you, "Astarion!" you call back, mustering your strength again in an attempt to get back on your feet.

And as quickly as you felt some sense of relief at the sight of him, your heart sinks violently at the tendril, the whip of dark magic that coils tightly around his body and flings him backward, away from you. With his rogueish reflexes, he quickly gathers his feet under him and lunges for his attacker. Fiercely, you struggle to your knees, desperate to help him.

The Ascendant effortlessly extends his arm, gathering at his legs, "even vermin must kneel before a god," he sneers, snapping his arm back to his side, sending a grunting, growling Astarion down with it, knees slamming to the ground. A fury to his stride "you were always worthless, sniveling..." raising his boot and pressing it harshly onto your vampire's shoulder, "groveling." Pushing him harshly down onto his hands.

Lightning flies from behind you, a quick glance reveals Gale had managed to get the spell off, and the Ascendant winces at the unexpected attack, stumbling off of Astarion. Who doesn't waste the opportunity and tackles his full weight into him. It doesn't do more than throw the Ascendant somewhat off balance as the two wrestle for the upper hand. "Bluster all you want, but I see what you really are! A lost, empty, miserable creature! Trying to fill a hole in your heart that all the power in the world will never sate!" Astarion snarls with his fangs on full display.

With a shove, the Ascendant puts distance between him and Astarion. His eyes glow red again and he grabs Astarion by the throat, lifting him into the air like a rag-doll. A familiar hand touches your shoulder and you're about to turn and thank Gale when the Ascendant's head snaps in your direction. The chains, which never fully released Gale, tighten around his arms and legs but begin to pull slowly in opposite directions. Then he opens his hand, his palm flat and level with the ground. Darkness swirling from the room and around his fingers like moths to a flame, and he steadily curls them back into his hand as it simmers a soft, red glow.

Blobs of shadow ooze from the floor and take the shape of monsters, soldiers, ghouls... One dozen, then two. Far more than you know your friends and you can fend off on your own. "Wait!" You shout before you can fully think of why you're doing so, rising to your feet at last, despite the way your legs ache and demand you don't.

Eerily, it all comes to a stop. All of it. And though the Ascendant pauses a long while, even he flings Astarion carelessly behind him before he slowly turns to you. "Apologies, my treasure... I got carried away." He says calmly, watching you cautiously circle around him.

You hesitantly look around the room. From Cazador's body, to Halsin's mangled and brutalized and the six spawn still muzzled with dark magic... "why are you doing all this?" is all you can ask in a barely audible whisper.

"You." He answers, so simple yet with such reverence. "For you, for us, I have dominated this city, compelled it to kneel before you, reduced it to little more than your personal footstool for your amusement." His eyes were distant with fond memories, and evidently clueless to the horror in your eyes. "I made you my queen, and I sat you beside me on a throne befitting of one, one that embodied your grace and beauty." You watched his eyes gaze upward, still deep in his recollections.

"The sight of you seated beside me never failed to make my heart swell with pride and fill me with contentment, like a melody playing in my soul." The words tumbling out, as if he'd been holding them in for centuries, bringing a hand to rest flat against the chest of his armor, over his heart.

"Hundreds of servants who kissed the ground you blessed with your every step as you tread the halls of our palace... and still, you rejected me." The Ascendant growls, taking a step toward you that has you quickly reeling backward, away from him. "After everything I taught you, all the delights of obedience, slow as you were to learn them... Countless nights spent coaxing your body to submission to me with nothing but pleasure. And you. Still—"

"No wonder I fucking killed myself." You spat, cutting him off before he could make you vomit... gods, how your stomach churned... "By the hells," you muttered, a look of disgust on your face. "What made you think I'd ever want that? The Astarion I know, my Astarion, would never... He knows me. Sees me." Gesturing behind you, and on cue, you felt his hand brush yours. "Did you?" The words sounding like a soft plea on behalf of your Other Self. A life, by what he described, you loathed.

The Ascendant regards you, his face impassive and impossible to read and all you could hope - pray for, was that your words were getting through. Even if he may not be your Astarion, it still pained you to see him like this. Amazed you he didn't look any different in the physical sense...

But then you watched his piercing scarlet eyes swirl back, full of malice, the twisted obsession of a love now corrupted, a chilling fury smoldering in his gaze as it consumed you. Commanding.

He grinned as your limbs once again went rigid. "Yes. I do." Casually raising his hand, this time you can only helplessly watch as another burst of foul magic slams into Astarion behind you, "now be a good girl, stop struggling and come to me."

In an instant, you berated yourself for your own stupidity to fall for this again, as your body stiffly, though slowly, moved forward. Behind you, chaos erupted as the creatures summoned by the Ascendant swarmed upon your friends. To your relief, you hear them fighting, possibly even holding them off, but that just meant you were on your own against... this.

Straining with all your will, you tore your gaze away from his eyes and fixated on the center of his chest. Though it had no effect on the command already imposed on your unwilling body, it felt less forceful. You grimaced, wriggling your fingers as you fought to regain any semblance of control from him. You never told Astarion you love him, you have to tell him, and you need to beat this if you ever want to...

With a fierce growl, your arms at last heed your demands, allowing you to swiftly reach for the dagger holstered at your side. However, you misjudged the distance between you two and realize too late you're within his grasp, and he quickly seizes your wrists, forcefully pulling you towards him. "Gods, I've missed you, my love..." The Ascendant's warm breath caressed your ear, his grip strong and possessive. Tight and suffocating.

Warm... He's...

With precision, he extends his hand towards your face, gently leading it to meet his own. The moment your lips touch, a searing heat spreads through your body, intensified by the graze of his fangs against your lip. As if anticipating your resistance, his other hand swiftly clasps the back of your head, holding you in place. Preventing any thought you may have had about breaking away before he's done.

It freezes you at first. The similarity, yet stark difference, of his lips hits you like a sudden gust of wind. It's a complete contrast to the cold you've grown accustomed to and sincerely enjoy from your Astarion.

How similar, but utterly different, his lips are. They radiate warmth, as do his hands and breath. It's a complete contrast to the cold you've grown accustomed to and sincerely enjoy from your Astarion. The smell of the Ascendant, rosemary and bergamot, differs from yours, though, with his comes a tinge of a frosty winter evening. Against every sense in your mind, screaming at you to stop him, fight this, your heart races with a sickening blend of fear and want.

Still, you fought, barely resisting the intense urge to kiss him back. This wasn't your Astarion. Yours was... calling out to you, and you could barely hear him. Could barely hear anything other than the Ascendants' breaths and mouth moving on yours, as if tempting you to sync with the kiss before he silently gives up and barely separates from you. "Come with me, my dark consort." He practically purrs, his lips brushing yours. "Faerûn waits eagerly for the return of its queen..."

The realization dawns on you, and your gut clenches in anticipation of what is about to unfold. You make one final, desperate attempt to wrench yourself free. Sights and sounds beyond the Ascendant return to you. Prying your arms free, you push against his chest.

Gods above, you don't want to live the nightmare he just described for yourself.

He sighs at your struggling and tsk's, "it seems I truly will have to teach you, and your body, all over again... And here I was hoping I could have the chain removed from the bottom of your throne..." murmuring softly, words dripping with disappointment, like the steady fall of rain.

Did your other self have a spare scroll handy...?

You writhe in his arms, twisting away in your attempt to untangle yourself from his grasp and slip down to the floor, knowing that attacking him with your hands will be useless and unable to grab your dagger in this position. You focus all your energy on trying to escape.

Across the floor, your eyes meet Astarion's. Your Astarion. Fighting viciously through wave after wave of monsters, unable to make any ground toward you. A shared desperation in your eyes, even as a sinister red glow slowly surrounds you. You never told him... you need to tell him...

Damn this. Damn him. "I love you, Astarion." You choke back the sob threatening to spill out, praying to whatever god is listening that he at least hears you say it.

For better or worse, his eyes gloss, "I'll find you, my love, I swear..."

Red swirls blind you.

And you're gone.

‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐

The moment you disappear, so does the small horde of creatures. Astarion shakily crosses the floor until he reaches the spot where they stood. Where He took you.

He collapses.

And he screams.

Screams until his throat is raw. Screams ugly, heart wrenching sobs that stung the ears like knives, with the power to move even the most callous heart with pity.

Today was supposed to be the start of his new life. One he dreamed of for two centuries, that he would share with you. Cazador lay dead beside him, so it was still possible, but what use was this freedom when he felt emptier than he's ever felt in his entire existence, living and undead? While within reach, it offered no solace. He would be alone. Again.

Astarion swore he would find you, but how would he? Would he have to ascend? Seize that power and ascend as well? Could Shadowheart bring back Cazador, just to use and spend him, so that Astarion could save you?

The way he... the Ascendant looked at you... It was vile. Utterly devoted to you, yet possessed by obsession. A gnarled, grotesque, and barely recognizable idea of his own love for you. The things he would do to force you to... love him. While wearing his face.

The terror that if he ascended here and now, that he could become that bastard...

Not even the tadpole, the Absolute mattered to him anymore. Not when he faced life without you, the only person to see him, to love him... For him.

He truly meant it. Not everyone had a heart like you. No one was like you. He would never find another love like what he feels for you.

Why didn't he just kiss you this morning when he had the chance...?

An odd, dense mist formed in front of him, and Astarion reluctantly watched it. Hells, the last thing he needs is... whatever this is.

"This simply cannot be permitted." Said a soft-spoken voice as an elven woman emerged from within. Her eyes scanning over the scene. She wore a light grey robe and a symbol around her neck shaped like a golden, dawning sun with five half crescents like spokes of a wheel. Her hair was long and bright, eyes a pale blue.

She knelt in front of Astarion, her fingers brushing what he is only now seeing. Dark, simmering runes that form a circle around where He stood, where He took you. "Are you keen to uphold your promise?" She asked without looking up at him.

Astarion blinked, but he refused to hesitate. "If you have a way to help me save her, talk quickly." He replies impatiently.

The woman slowly rose to her feet and Astarion, though his knees trembled slightly, rose to join her. "Save may be too strong a word. Her suffering is inevitable now, and it will be plentiful in supply." A small frown flickered across her features. If she noticed the anguish that those words caused him, she paid no mind. "But we may yet return her here, where she belongs. Where she's needed." She says calmly. "But it cannot be so without you."

"What part of 'talk quickly' do you not understand? Are they not words you comprehend? Tell me what you need and I'll do it."

"Patience, little vampling." The woman soothes, unperturbed by his temper. "This timeline must sleep before her disappearance can affect it. In turn, your parasite will sleep, just as hers has already." She explains patiently, as another figure, a small Elven man with a journal and quill in hand, emerges from the mist and joins her side. He kneels down and begins studying the runes, drawing them on the parchment. "It will not be simple or easy. The Ascendants' power has risen to heights we haven't seen in other timelines. But he cannot continue his rise unchallenged." She continues with a small shake of her head.

Astarion moved to take a step toward her, only for the man to catch his foot gently, holding it back from covering one of the runes. "Tell me what you need from me, and I will give it." He says back firmly, a growl edging his tone.

The woman nodded. "Come with me. We have much to discuss." She gestures slowly with one hand behind her, toward the mist.

He's about to start toward it with little hesitation, before he stops and looks back. Karlach kneeling beside Halsin's mangled remains, Wyll's hand on her shoulder. Gale and Lae'zel were on either side of Shadowheart, who was nursing her broken hands.

She gives a nod, committed to this just as much as he was. "Get her back. And thrash the bastard for me." The cleric encourages with a weary but determined smile.

With a nod and a silent promise, he turns back to the woman and now the man, their presence looming at the edge of the mist, and he strides resolutely forward to enter it alongside them.

"I love you, Astarion." His heart shattering all over again remembering the tremble in your voice.

Astarion swore he would find you.

And this time he would say it back.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

A/N: Sorry, I just didn't have the heart to end it on a note of "oh no Spawn Astarion is just fucked now I guess".

This had been an idea on and off, but was inspired to go for it when I saw it prompted during my regular tumblr scroll. I have written, and rewritten and written it again, over and over, and this is the culmination of endless suffering. So... Thanks for reading this far! Hope you liked it!

EDIT: this is intended as a one-shot. There is no planned continuation. The ending is written to provide an alternate, a sense of hope, if you, the reader is unhappy with the "bad end". You can decide for yourself if Astarion is successful at finding you, if he survives a second confrontation, the consequences of it all, etc.

Of course, I have plenty of ideas for how I'd continue it but I have no serious interest to at the moment. I might write it privately for myself if I do, but it depends how much people care about this.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #ascended astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate spoilers #baldurs gate fanfiction #yandere #yandere male #tw yandere #His Star - His Queen #HS-HQ

145 notes · View notes