#rip Alfira i'm so sorry girl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lilyslemonadestand · 4 months

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if i could protect him. ( part one. )

↯ . . astarion x durge!

summary. reader has these dark urges to kill someone in her sleep. it happened when she killed the tiefling bard, and now it's wanting her to kill astarion.

warnings. violence, mentions of gore, blood, brief talk about sex.

word count. 2,700+

notes. erm first part of three! repost because my comment about naked halsin blew up and this got burried. i'm still learning how tumblr works. anyways. please leave critiques and comments hehe. reblogs appreciated. <3

CHAPTER ONE.

After killing that poor Tiefling Bard at the Druid party, you hadn’t slept. She was such a bright, young girl, dedicating her life and bravery to your cause. And you killed, no, massacred her without even being aware. You still felt her blood stain your skin and the feeling of rubbing your hands raw. Nothing hurt as much as the hot scorching pain in your head did. And then the wave of pure satisfaction you felt afterwards. You were, disgustingly, proud of your handiwork, and your body ached for the time that you kill again. The scent of metal filled your waking thoughts, and the image of her beautiful corpse left you awake at night. You were a danger to everyone, and you didn’t know what would happen if you left yourself alone.

Astarion usually was awake at this time, being a night owl like you. You hadn’t dared to tell him about what happened, or these urges that you couldn’t control. At best, he’d leave your group and never see you again. At worst, you’d kill him, or he’d be afraid of you and ram his dagger into your gut. Even the idea of your own corpse was intoxicating to you. Tonight, Astarion fell asleep rather quickly. You knew he was exhausted all day, from the way he wasn’t whining while fighting, and how he didn’t even say anything after arriving at camp. You didn’t blame him; today was draining.

You were the first to fall asleep, embarrassingly enough, the gentle hum of conversation enough to lull you to sleep. Between Karlach’s laugh and Wyll telling a story to the group, it made you feel safe. You even fell asleep with a smile on your lips, something very different from your usual serious gaze.

Maybe that was a mistake, feeling safe for once. Because as soon as you fell asleep, the scenery around you changed. You were back at that night. You knew you were. It felt like you weren’t in control of your feet, as you dragged yourself to the sleeping Alfira. There was a knife in your hand - How in the Hell’s did that get there? - and the insatiable hunger in your stomach. You tried to rip your thoughts away from killing her, knowing these thoughts weren’t okay. But you carried through with the act, dragging the knife from her heart to her stomach. She didn’t even wake up, or scream. The first stab inspired many more, stabbing her a total of ten times before you finally got a grip of your own thoughts. A panic rang through you when you stopped.

“I’m sorry,” You cried, your hands shaking and eventually dropping the knife to the ground with a clang. Your hands were bright red, and you knew her blood was all over your face, blinding your sight. “I’m so sorry.” The feeling of nausea washed over you, trying not to throw up all over the corpse. Then, thank god, the scene faded to black once more.

You fluttered your eyes open, the familiar headache still ringing in your head. It felt like your tadpole could sense your anxiety. Your hand graciously reached to wipe away the tears forming in the corner of your eyes that you didn’t know were there. It was so tiring having these thoughts, but today felt different. Stronger. You looked quickly around the camp, your hand grabbing at your chest as your breath quickened. It was just a dream, you thought. Darkness had fallen around your camp and if it wasn’t for the dying of the embers of the fire, you wouldn’t be able to see anything. You looked around at your sleeping friends. Gale was snoring quite loudly, and as much as you wanted to suffocate him with a pillow, it was helping you ground yourself. This wasn’t a dream. You’re safe now.

You looked at Astarion for longer than everyone else, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. He looked so peaceful when he slept, white curls cascading over the right side of his face. Maybe he looked serene because he wasn’t making any snarky comments. Or maybe it was the way he slept with his legs curled into his chest. He looked oddly cramped even though he had as much space in the world right now. Centuries of sleeping in an all too small coffin would do that to a person. Astarion had fallen asleep facing you, something he’d never done, like he made sure you were safely asleep before allowing himself to. Apparently, you must have been tossing and turning in your nightmare, because his blanket was placed over your form.

There was a crunch of a branch being stepped on behind you, and your head quickly swiveled to look at it. That god awful demon of a butler was following you. When he’d first appeared, you’d tried so hard to rack your brain and remember him, but you’d forgotten, along with all of your other memories. Anytime you saw him, someone died.

“Hello Mistress. Said I’d be back!” His voice was more like a screech, and you had an urge to kick him across your camp. Wouldn’t be too hard. You smiled as you thought about this. Possibly the first normal urge you’d had all night.

That smile fell quickly into a sharp glare. “I’m quite sure I told you to go to hell and never come back.” You whispered, making sure not to wake Astarion.

“Well! I’ve noticed you’ve taken a liking to that pretty vampire!” Your whole body shifted into confusion.

“What?” You exclaimed, looking at Astarion with mock disgust. “The elf that talks too much? Nope. No. Absolutely not.” But your body was shifting in front of him protectively, your eyes like sharp daggers at the Butler. “Are you stalking me?”

He didn’t answer your question, squirming around more than your tadpole did. “If you don’t like him, then you’ll have no issue killing him!” The Butler giggled, a shrill thing that made your head throb.

You looked shocked, trying to convince yourself that you hadn’t thought about anything like that before. The first time you’d met Astarion, you’d thought about it. The crimson blood stained his pretty pale skin. The look of his beautiful corpse. The way his eyes would match the color of his own blood on your knife. You snapped your thoughts out of these urges, and looked back at the sleeping elf. It wouldn’t hurt him, right? It’d just be like Alfira. He was so pretty, it was a shame that he had to die with his eyes closed. Maybe you could wake him, watch as his eyes widen when he sees your knife, right before dragging it across his neck. That’d be what he deserves for taking your blood, hm?

The thoughts disappeared just as quickly as they came, your hands tugging at your hair to keep you sane. The Butler giggled again and you wanted to kill him. Unfortunately, you knew he’d be helpful in remembering your past.

“Someone will be dead by tonight — no matter your choice. You can kill him now, or you will later. Eventually, you won’t be able to resist.” Butler's voice echoed. “I can see it in your eyes. Killing that Tiefling felt good, didn’t it?”

You didn’t answer him. “And what if I don’t? Are you going to?”

“Of course not, Ma’am! I wouldn’t take that pleasure from you.” His words made your nose scrunch in disgust. Pleasure certainly wasn’t the right word. Torture, maybe. Your hands reached for the hilt of your knife. “I can see that he’s more than a pretty face to you. Did you know that he’s terrified of you? That’s a hindrance. Just kill him now.”

Terrified of you? No, no, that couldn’t be true. No way. Your face paled as you thought about that. Butler was right. Astarion looked at you differently than all of the other companion’s. Maybe it was fear. Maybe that’s why he refused to fall asleep before you. To make sure you don’t hurt anyone in your sleep. The thought made your stomach sick. Before you could take a slash at the creature, he was gone with a blink of an eye. What the hell? If you were his master in some fucked up past life that you couldn’t remember, doesn’t that mean he’d listen to you? Once you found out who sent that twisted little shit, you’d be letting him know not so kindly that Butler was disobedient. You winced at the pain again, but this time it felt like it was behind your eyes.

Maybe you did like Astarion more than you cared to admit, but you played it off often as some sort of trauma bond. You two had just barely delved into your romantic feelings, after drunkenly hooking up after the Tiefling party. That was the day before you killed Alfira.

Astarion wanted his feelings to stay manipulative, to perhaps use you for sex so you’d feel inclined to be loyal to him. Once he started noticing small things, like how you pick at your nails when you’re anxious, or how you’d always without fail ask him if he was alright after sex, he got a little… scared. These feelings were foreign to him and he was scared that once he got close to you, you’d leave. Just like how everyone else had.

You also had been feeling a bit used, covering your body more during intimacy and being more distant caused a rift between you two. One where neither of you were able to speak about your feelings, but you just couldn’t. If he got too close, you’d end up killing him.

The thoughts of being manipulated by Astarion made your head surge again, your brow’s narrowed at his sleeping form. Your hand desperately wanted to reach out and strangle the elf. With your head tilted to the side, you gently ran your nails across the scarred bite marks on his neck. If you killed him, he would be grateful for you. In death, he’d be free. He wouldn’t have to be a vampire spawn anymore. He wouldn’t have to worry about Cazador anymore.

“Astarion.” You whispered, and it took every goddamn muscle in your body to not pick up the knife next to your side and gut him. The control you had was fleeting. You felt so weak, crawling your way closer to him, knees barely being able to move. “Astarion, I swear to god, wake up.” Your hands were grabbing onto his shoulders, nearly shaking the life out of the poor vampire.

His eyes opened slowly, blinking away the rest of his interrupted sleep. Astarion shot you a nasty glare. “You better have a damned good reason for—” His voice fell off at the end, looking at your panicked state. You looked crazy; your fingernails slightly digging into his shoulders, your whole body shaking, and your panicked, fear-stricken eyes. Then he saw the dagger. “Well, you’re clearly not looking for a late night cuddle.” Astarion mumbled, quickly shifting onto his forearms. Any other time his words would’ve been amusing. Not tonight.

You were unable to say anything as you tried to calm the panic that was making it hard to breathe. Astarion looked at you carefully. “Something’s wrong. Talk to me, darling.”

“I— You’re not safe. I need to keep you safe,” Your voice was frantic, and you looked terrified. Astarion had dealt with this many times before, with himself. The desperation of needing something to come back with him so Cazador wouldn’t get angry and the flood of guilt he felt when he saw the panic in their eyes. He knew quite quickly about what this was. His hands reached for your shoulders, his grip strong. “Talk to me.” Astarion whispered once more, ruby eyes full of such patience and care that you wanted to spill your guts, admit everything. All that you remembered at least.

“I want to kill. I feel such a strong need to kill. I was going to kill—” You tried to spit out the final pieces of this puzzle, but you were disgusted and ashamed of yourself. “I was going to kill you.”

“Me?” Astarion exhaled quickly like what you said was some funny joke. That annoyed you. “I can’t begin to imagine what I’ve done to make you want to kill me.” His hand moved to your knee, which was involuntarily pulling towards your chest. You both stayed silent for a moment and you watched as his nose scrunched, like he was figuring something out about you. When it clicked, his eyes widened.

“You killed that tiefling, didn’t you?” He asked quickly. The ring of blood from where it had happened still stained the dirt in your camp. Wyll scrubbed at it for nearly an hour as well as cleaning the specks of blood off of Karlach’s tent, but it seemed to stain your hands in the same way that it stained your waking thoughts. Something was off about Astarion’s expression. He was smiling. Shouldn’t he be terrified of you? Baring his fangs, hand on his dagger, ready to rip your throat out? You’re giving him a dirty look without even realizing it.

He scrunches his nose at you. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I already knew that. We all do.” Astarion pauses, tapping a pale finger twice against his chin. “Besides Wyll and Karlach. Blissfully unaware.” He finally shifts to sit fully up, his knees bent and his arms resting over them. You notice a smidge of purple underneath his eyes, and part of you feels bad for waking him. Being tired is better than being dead though.

You groaned. That meant that Lae’zel, Shadowheart and Gale knew you were a deranged freak murderer. And either they didn’t care or they were terrified of you just like everyone else.

“I have— had— those thoughts too. Of killing. And maybe I acted on a few.” Astarion’s voice cuts you out of your thoughts, thinking about how Shadowheart would easily kill you in your sleep. He’s still sporting a lovely smile, and it makes your shoulders relax.

“Goblins don’t count.” You murmur.

Astarion laughs this time, a pretty thing that makes you feel better. He moves closer to you. “They were definitely more than goblin’s, darling.” He swallows hard, and it looks like it’s hard for him to open up to you. Like these were things nobody had heard before, kept quiet about for centuries. His crimson eyes are softer than you’d ever seen. He opens his mouth to say something else, but he's interrupted by you wincing.

You know you're about to hit the ground before you do. You feel his hands brush against your side’s, trying to keep you upright. A flash of light fogs your vision— red light— and then everything goes quiet. You feel peckish, before you pass out, your head hitting the group sharply. Everything fades to black, and you’re alone once more, an outsider in your own body.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #fanfic #angst

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