Wish Rewrite
I have this tendency for rewriting material I either don’t like or think had wasted potential. At the time of writing this, Wish hasn’t come out in theaters but I did pirate it as there was an early screening. I also read the junior novelization and bought the concept art book. Needless to say, I was disappointed by what I read/saw.
I feel like Wish could’ve been better. Granted, the story and characters are not terrible, but they certainly leave much to be desired. This is literally Disney’s 100th anniversary, yet it doesn’t really feel like it. Not only that, but the movie felt incredibly rushed. Yeah I know that most Disney movies try have a run time of 90-100+ minutes, but I think a few more minutes could’ve been added to this film.
So, I decided to indulge myself and outline some changes that I think could’ve made the story slightly better. These ideas are by no means perfect, and in the end, this is all in good fun.
Spoilers ahead btw
The main story of Wish is essentially that Asha wants to get a job as Magnifico’s apprentice so that her grandfather’s wish is granted. But Asha finds out about the King’s true nature, and after questioning him, doesn’t get the job, and Magnifico vows to never grant Sabino or Sakina’s wishes.
Asha makes a wish on a star, and the star comes down, Magnifico tries to hunt down the two of them, he uses an evil spell book to create a staff, Magnifico destroys some wishes, Asha gets help from her friends, they sing a song to defeat Magnifico (I ‘wish’ i was joking), Star gives Asha a magic wand, and all is well.
Oh, and Amaya is… there.
It’s nothing complex, pretty cut and dry. And I don’t have a problem with a simple story! But this feels like it’s… missing something.
Firstly, I’d change the title. Disney already has a boat called Wish, and not every movie needs to be one word like Tangled, Frozen, and Brave (amongst others), so the story could be renamed “Asha and the Wishing Star” or “Asha and the Kingdom of Wishes”. Idk, something that evokes a classic fairytale book feel (or that does confuse people with a boat).
((Side note #1: I honestly enjoy that the story started off with a book, as a nod to classic disney movies, especially Snow White. That was cute))
Secondly, and I know I sound like a broken record at this point…
AMAYA👏🏼SHOULDVE👏🏼BEEN👏🏼A👏🏼VILLAIN👏🏼ALONGSIDE👏🏼HER👏🏼HUSBAND👏🏼
The original plan, according to the concept art book, was to have Magnifico and Amaya to be a villain couple who were partners in crime and owned a black sphinx cat named Charo. However for… reasons, the creators took the ‘safe’ route and made Amaya the good one out of the two.
But the problem is, by erasing Amaya’s evilness, the creators of Wish essentially removed any purpose or personality she may have had and thus, she was left to become a literal ‘supporting’ character. First supporting both Magnifico and Asha, then leaving Magnifico to prop up solely Asha.
Deadass, you can literally remove Amaya from the story and nothing would change. Which is probably why she was exempt from much of the promotional stuff minus the dolls. Because she literally serves no purpose but to be… there.
So, in my version of Wish, Amaya would be a co-conspirator to her husband and yes, I’m adding Charo too. Her personality would be inspired by classic female villains such as the Evil Queen from Snow White, Lady Tremaine from Cinderella, and Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty.
Vain, glamorous, cunning, and unabashedly evil, Amaya would be the Morticia to Magnifico’s Gomez, the brains to his brawn. She’s the girlboss, he’s the wife instigator. Magnifico spoils Amaya rotten with countless gifts and praises, whilst Amaya is the more calm and collected evil compared to her husband’s ever-growing temper.
While she starts the story with no magic, Magnifico just can’t leave his wife hanging and shares the power of the evil spell-book with Amaya. And yes, even Charo gets in on the fun, turning from a small house cat, to a massive shape-shifting beast who breaths blue fire similarly to a dragon (shut up i think it’d be cool)
Magnifico and Amaya essentially keep the wishes of Rosas locked in the castle as a form of obedience. By giving the citizens false hope, it makes them more dependent on the royal couple, and the two have more power over everyone.
Anyways, let’s get to the main characters: Asha and Star.
I don’t have much of an issue with Asha’s character, more so her design. I already made a post showing my redesign of her, so that’s out of the way. Tbh tho, I also have an issue with the rest of the costume design of Wish, being a big costume nerd myself. The movie’s supposed to take inspiration from the Mediterranean, primarily places such as Spain and Morocco (and the Amazigh people for Asha), but the fashion feels like generic European medieval fashion.
I feel like the whole storyline of Asha’s interview with Magnifico was pretty pointless, so I would have it that she just starts off as the kings apprentice, whilst also working as Amaya’s scullery maid.
The couple took Asha in when the girl lost her father at the age of 12 (according to the film), and she’s been working for them for five years. Asha works not only to support herself, her family, and her community, but also as a way to distract from the grief of losing her father. Which is no issue, as Amaya always bombards the girl with chores, and Magnifico only teaches Asha the most basic of magic for fear of her growing more powerful than him.
I made Asha work as a scullery maid not only as a reference to princesses such as Snow White and Cinderella starting off their respective stories as maids, but also because scullery maids acted as assistants to the kitchen maids. Dahlia works in the kitchen, Asha and Dahlia are best friends, I figured it made sense.
But anyways, on the day of Sabino’s 100th birthday, Sakina tells Asha to take a break and return home, as she hardly visits anymore due to work. Asha says she’ll try asking the king and queen to get off early, but that she can’t make any promises.
Asha meets with Magnifico and asks for the day off, but the king refuses. However, wanting to keep her loyalty, Magnifico finally shows Asha the wish chamber, and even allows her to witness the wish ceremony that night. But once Asha starts questioning the king on his methods, any goodwill between them begins to fade.
Another thing I’m disappointed in, is that originally Star was going to be a shapeshifting humanoid inspired by the Genie and Peter Pan, and may have even had a romance with Asha. But, the idea was scrapped for the more cutesy, ‘marketable’, version of Star.
In my retelling, I’d choose to do this human shapeshifter version of Star, but I’d name him something else. The star Earendel was mentioned in the concept art book, which is the farthest known star from Earth and not only means ‘morning star’ in Old English, but is also named after the Tolkien character, Eärendil.
I would call this shapeshifter Star Earen, and because Disney loves their animal/cute sidekicks, Earen can have the ‘Kirby’ Star as a companion, just like how Asha has Valentino and Magnifico and Amaya have Charo.
((Side #2: Anybody else notice that Star lowkey looks and sounds like Kirby😶))
Earen and Star journey down to Rosas once they hear Asha’s pleas for guidance. Once Asha tells of Magnifico and Amaya’s lies, Earen reveals that he actually met Magnifico decades ago. The amount of years shocks Asha, as she realizes that the King and Queen might be far older than what they are.
((Side note #3: I didn’t realize this till someone mentioned it, but if Sabino is 100 and he gave Magnifico his wish at 18, then he’s been waiting 82 years for his wish to be granted. Which means it’s likely that Magnifico might be immortal. That, or Disney didn’t think this shit through (most likely)))
Anyways, Earen actually attempted to stop Magnifico and Amaya’s ploy to keep the wishes of Rosas locked away, but he was sealed within the heavens until he and Star heard Asha make her wish.
We can have it that the king and queen spun the story so that Earen was made out to be an evil that once threatened Rosas, but Magnifico banished him and saved everyone, essentially making himself out to be the good guy and manipulating the narrative.
Asha and Earen must now work together to expose the lies of the royal couple, and along the way, the two begin to fall in love. Earen disguises himself as a peasant boy so as to remain inconspicuous, while Asha tries to go about her job as if nothing happened, evading the King and Queen’s suspicions.
Star gives Asha a stick infused with stardust once finding out she is, quite literally, the sorcerers apprentice. It is also so that she may defend herself, as Earen has his powers and a sword (similarly to Peter Pan).
Unlike Magnifico, Earen and Star teach Asha the wonders of magic and the potential she wields, showing that there is no need for her to hold back when her gift can help so many, including those she loves.
The three manage to sneak into the kings study, but only have time to retrieve Sabino’s wish and return it to him. However, Magnifico and Amaya, now strengthened by the powers of dark magic, find Asha and Earen and threaten to destroy all the wishes should Earen not surrender to them.
And as a way to ensure that Asha doesn’t foil their plans, Magnifico destroys both Asha and Sakina’s wishes, despite Asha not being eighteen yet. However, the evil magic allows him to do so. This act weakens the two women, and infuriates Earen.
Earen then willingly complies despite Asha’s opposition, and Sabino takes Asha and Sabina to the seven (well six) teens for aid, who are in hiding after Simon ratted them out and who now serves as a puppet to the king and queen.
Despite loosing her wish, Asha finds the strength to carry on through the memory of her late father, enlisting the help of her friends and Star, who managed to evade the royal couple’s grasp. The team must work together to save Earen, whose power will be drained by Magnifico and Amaya. And if such a feat were to happen, then Earen would die and Rosas would be lost.
The five teens go into the woods to distract one of the royals, with the aid of the forest fauna and Star. Amaya chases the group alongside Charo while Magnifico tortures Earen and begins stealing his power. With the help of Dahlia, Asha sneaks into the castle to confront her former mentor and save Earen before it’s too late.
At first, it seems that the heroes have the upper hand with Magnifico neutralized, but then, Amaya swoops in riding Charo, who now takes the form of a giant dragon. Earen transforms into a dragon himself and battles Charo and Amaya, while Asha continues battling Magnifico. Star even comes to help after the original plan fails.
However, the unholy trio have the upper hand, and Amaya strikes down Earen, giving Magnifico enough time to not only drain Earen’s power, but to trap Star within his staff. With their combined powers, Magnifico and Amaya gather all of the peoples wishes, even stealing the wishes of those not yet of age, which includes the teens.
With all the wishes gathered, the couple and their pet destroy all the wishes, taking their energy for themselves.
Asha falls into despair as she watched her friends, love ones, and community succumb to the grief of loosing their wishes. The king and queen force Asha to apologize to the people, mocking her and making her feel even more guilty.
However, Earen comforts Asha despite his weak state, telling her it’s alright and that she shouldn’t be ashamed of wishing on Star, as he brought the two of them together. The two kiss, the strength of their newfound love and hope shining through the darkness and inspiring the people of Rosas to rise up.
As the sky and stars become alive, Magnifico’s staff is destroyed, releasing Star in the process. All the evil magic he, Amaya, and Charo used is sucked out of them and vanquished, and Earen is restored to full vitality.
Think of this as the transformation scene from Princess and the Frog. Asha and Earen get new outfits, with Asha even gaining a crown and a new wand from Star.
((Side Note #4: The “transformation” in the finale of the film is so stupid. Asha could’ve literally gotten a new dress once she becomes a fairy godmother, but instead, Star just made her sparkly. How magical🙄))
Rosas rejoices, as they realize they don’t need the king to make their wishes come true, and they can pursue them themselves. With Magnífico and Amaya banished from Rosas, Asha and Earen become the new rulers, being names Prince and Princess respectively.
And that’s basically how I would’ve done Wish. It’s not perfect, but it’s just an idea. I’m just disappointed that Disney do something better for their 100th anniversary.
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Fangs and Fractured Hearts
Chapter 6: Dancing with Darkness
Summary: You helped Astarion complete the Rite of Profane Ascension and become the Vampire Ascendant. You agreed to become his spawn soon after. Once the Netherbrain was defeated, Astarion claimed the Szarr Palace, renaming it the Crimson Palace, for himself and set about his plans of domination.
Word Count: 6.9k
Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn
Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]
Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm.
If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know
Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience}
“Have you completely lost your mind? You can’t be serious!”
Shadowheart paces in front of you; a brooding scowl darkens the delicate features of her face. This is the third argument with her in as many days about you moving back in with Astarion and the obtuse notion that maybe you could help him regain some semblance of his old self.
Gale was due to return home soon, and you’re not looking forward to repeating this argument with him.
“I need to do this, Shadowheart.”
“You most certainly do not! You don’t owe him a damn thing.”
“It’s my fault he’s like this. I let him down in that ritual chamber.”
I should have tried harder to talk him out of it.
“He let you down,” she sneers, “do not allow him to make you think otherwise. Gods, I requested you stay out of trouble, not go barrelling headfirst towards it!”
“Shadowheart,” you gently grasp her arms to halt her ferocious stomping, “look at me.”
She inhales sharply at your touch, and you recognize that look from when Astarion used to touch you before you were this walking corpse.
You drop your grip, “Sorry. I forget how cold I am now.”
Shadowheart grabs your hands, concern furrows her brows and creases her forehead, “It’s dangerous. He’s dangerous. Don’t do this.”
“I know, but I must try. If not for him, then for myself. I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Why would you agree to such a thing in the first place?”
You sigh, “I think you know why.”
“You’re still in love with him.”
There’s pity in her eyes.
“I’m not sure I will ever not be in love with him.”
Shadowheart scoffs at you, but her voice loses its serrated edge, “Do you think he is still capable of loving you?”
No.
Yes?
No. I cannot allow myself the luxury of that fantasy.
“No… I don’t know, but that’s not what this is about. Astarion would have done the same for me once upon a time.”
“There’s no talking you out of this suicide mission, is there?”
You give her a solemn look and shrug your shoulders. There was nothing anyone could say to put an end to this madness. Your decision had been made that night in the Crimson Palace when you had watched him battle with himself as you clung to him.
“What if this is another carefully orchestrated maneuver to regain control over you?”
You shrug, “Then I am a foolish woman.”
“I would argue that you’ve far surpassed simple foolishness. Good Gods.”
“He doesn’t need to plan such an elaborate ruse if what he wants is simply control. I’m his spawn. He has the ability to control me completely at his whim.”
Shadowheart’s eyes narrow skeptically, “Is that what this is? Has he compelled you to do this?”
Has he?
“No. He asked for my help, and I gave it freely.”
Did I?
She huffs, her eyes upcast in exasperation, “I will never understand your deluded loyalty to him. Hells, Gale is going to be furious."
Loyalty or love?
“One angry friend at a time, okay?”
She chuckles with an exasperated sigh, “Less angry, more worried.”
“Your style of worry looks a lot like anger.”
She scowls at you, but one side of her mouth is tugged up in a wry half-smile, “I’ve been told that before.”
Shadowheart takes a deep breath and sits down. Her heartbeat starts to slow, and you nearly want to praise the Gods on your knees for it. That thrumming in her chest clamoured in your ears and made your mouth salivate obscenely. It took every ounce of your control to be in such proximity to her without lunging for her neck.
Astarion has been keeping you fed while attempting to teach you how to hunt for yourself, which is the only reason you can bear to be this close to Shadowheart in the first place. Your lessons are not going well, although he seems to find the spectacle of your ungracefulness extremely amusing.
My, my, how the tables have turned.
“I can’t believe you’re willingly returning to that dreadful palace.”
“You’ll be happy to know that I’m not.”
Shadowheart leers at you suspiciously, “What do you mean?”
“Not living in the palace was part of my… terms. Astarion purchased another residence.”
Her eyes go wide with surprise, “He agreed to this?”
“Shocking, I know.”
“But you will be staying close by, I hope? When something inevitably goes awry, you can return any time.”
“We will be in the upper city, I believe.”
“The upper city?” Shadowheart giggles, “How very posh.”
“Not my first choice, but would you have expected any different?”
She laughs, “No, I suppose not. He always gravitated towards luxury, like an insect to a flame. When is this happening?”
“Soon. I was hoping Gale might be home before I left so I could tell him myself.”
She winces, “It might be best if I do it.”
“I don’t wish to put that on you. I’ll return to tell him.”
“Perhaps, don’t bring Astarion when you do. Gale may be a gentle soul, but his feelings for you might lead him to do something rather rash.”
His feelings for me... I had hoped those were long put to rest. It seems she knows something I don’t.
You sigh loudly, “I know.”
Your fingers shake as you pack what little things belongings you have. Fear coils tepid and stewing in your chest. Shadowheart is right. Astarion is dangerous. There is no telling what he’s capable of or what he might do to you when you inevitably make him angry.
Replaying your recent interactions with Astarion in your head, you evaluate what seems to provoke him. Every time you’ve disobeyed or challenged him, in some way, shape or form, he loses himself. This realization scares you more than not knowing and opens up many other questions. You know what happens when you make him angry, but what happens when someone else does? His new lover, his “business” partners, whoever and whatever they may be, or anyone else for that matter?
I will undoubtedly upset him. I will not be intimated into being his subordinate, not again.
You’ve landed yourself in a precarious situation, and your life, if you can call it that, hangs in the balance, but you’re not unaccustomed to fighting for your life.
I may have finally thrust myself into a battle I cannot win.
Astarion comes to retrieve you in the early morning to escort you to the place you and he will once again be sharing.
“Well, what do you think?”
“It’s very… large.”
He chuckles, “Anything would look large to you after living in a bedroom for over a year.”
The manor is bright and airy. Heavy curtains are hung on all the windows but are pulled back to allow the sunlight to flood in. The shining radiance of the daylight you’re not used to hurts your eyes and causes your head to pound. You still fear the sun. Standing in it makes your stomach churn, and your muscles quiver.
This will take some adjusting to.
Nervously, you walk around the ground floor to familiarize yourself with your new lodgings while Astarion trails behind you.
Entering the large kitchen makes you wonder. In the time you had lived with him before, he would do the hunting for you as he did now and then drop you back off at your room and disappear. He had kept you corralled where he wanted you like an animal, and you had never witnessed him eat anything, blood or food.
I will not let myself be controlled like that again - no matter the consequences.
“Do you eat food now?”
“I can dine on both as I see fit, but I won’t if it bothers you.”
I miss food.
“It doesn’t,” you wave at him dismissively, “You can eat or drink whatever you please.”
Astarion gives you a sultry gaze, “Whatever I please?”
You ignore his provocative tone and climb the wide staircase. You peek into a cozy library. It seems Astarion has moved his rather impressive book collection already. The filled shelving reaches up to the high ceiling. The room has only one small window, which is covered to keep the sun’s bleaching rays from deteriorating the texts.
You continue down the long hall, which has multiple bedrooms off of it. You look into all of them curiously.
“Which room is mine?”
“Whichever one you want. There are several; take your pick.”
With all your charisma, you plaster an angelic smile on your face, “I want the biggest one.”
“I… uh-”
He’s still adorable when he’s flustered.
“Relax, Astarion,” you smile at him wryly, “I’m well aware that’s your room.”
“I could be convinced to call it our room.”
What? Nothing has been ours since he ascended unless he was saying candied falsehoods.
“That’s not what this is, is it?”
His eyebrow cocks, “What do you mean?”
“Trying to get me back into your bed?”
“To what end, my dear?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug, “Power. Control. Possession. Pleasure. Take your pick.”
“I suppose I deserve that.”
You scold yourself inwardly while running your fingers through your hair. You were still angry with him, of course, but you were letting it get the better of you.
“Sorry. I’m still-”
“Apology accepted,” he halts you with a resigned sigh, “I am angry at myself most days.”
Who is this person?
“I have business I must attend to in the city today.”
Your eyebrow cocks, “Business?”
“Yes.”
“With that terrible woman?”
He chuckles, “No, not today.”
“Something is off with her, Astarion. Be careful.”
“Oh, pet. Your jealousy is utterly adorable, but she’s harmless.”
You pivot swiftly, scowling, and poke your finger into his chest hard, “You will not call me “pet” anymore. Do I make myself clear?”
“I… Yes, I understand,” he looks around anxiously, “it never bothered you before.”
“You mean when you were a spawn?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t own me then. Moreover, you didn’t want to. It became a slight as soon as you thought of me as nothing more than another pretty possession.”
His knows knit together, “I do not wish to own you.”
“You have held it over me on multiple occasions.”
Astarion’s red eyes shift around as if searching his memories, “I have, haven’t I?”
“Yes.”
“Apologies,” he bows shallowly, “I’ll work on it.”
I am sure you will.
“You didn’t bring many things.”
“I don’t have many things anymore. I left it all behind when I left…”
Your words trail off, but Astarion finishes your sentence for you.
“Me.”
You nod, “Yes.”
“I’ll have your belongings brought from the palace.”
What?
Your eyebrows shoot up, “You still have my things?”
There’s no way he kept them all this time.
“Of course, darling. One doesn’t simply throw away perfectly good magical items. It would be a ghastly waste.”
“I figured you would sell it all.”
“I admit, I considered it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I’m… not sure,” he waves his hand dismissively, “I just never got around to it, I suppose.”
Too busy bedding the trollop.
Ugh.
“How far is your business in the city?”
“Not far,” his brows knit together, “Why?”
You point to the windows, “The sun.”
“Right, of course. We will have to figure out where the limit is.”
“Astarion?”
I need to know.
“Hm?”
“Do you control it?”
“Control what, love?”
“The sun protection. When you sent me away, you eluded that you have the power to grant me that benefit or not. I need to know if this is another thing you can control me with.”
Astarion takes your hand in his, a sincere expression on his face, “I wouldn’t let you burn.”
“You might if you get angry enough with me, which you will. It’s a certainty. Answer the question.”
“Yes.”
This does not bode well for me.
Pulling away from him, you step back from the sunlight spilling through the nearby window. You shiver noticeably as you try to swallow the harsh truth that you might very well end up as a pile of ash on these floors one of these days.
Astarion squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, “I won’t allow the sun or myself to hurt you.”
“How can you be so sure of that, Astarion?”
“I just am.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He shrugs, “It’s the only answer I have for you right now.”
You point at the room furthest from his, “I’ll take this one.”
“I’ll leave you to get settled then. I will inform you before I depart.”
The room is large, and the heavy curtains are already drawn, suffusing it in darkness. It’s furnished with a generously sized bed, a few wardrobes and several little tables with oil lamps and candles. A pair of plush chairs with a damask patterned fabric sit off to the side of the bed in front of a small stone fireplace with ornately chiselled dragons, vines and fire inlaid with gold and silver.
A small room just off the main holds a wooden tub and glass washbasin. You note there are no mirrors in this room, but you had spotted several throughout the manor.
Not that I need a mirror, but I imagine he can’t get enough of staring at himself now.
Crawling onto the bed, you wrap your arms around your knees and take deep breaths of useless air to try and settle the disquietude sitting heavy in your belly. Being here with him, knowing he was just outside that door and could barge in at any moment, was terrifying. You’ve been desperately trying to hide your fear from him since he came to fetch you this morning.
Shadowheart had tried to talk you out of this again before he had arrived, and you find yourself wishing you weren’t so mulish. You had been adamant with her that this was what needed to be done, but your resolve was wavering, especially with the knowledge that he did have control over your protection from the sun.
Had I known, would I have agreed to this?
Probably. Idiot.
Am I trying to get myself killed?
Maybe.
Rolling over onto your side, your eyes brim with tears. You have not known joy for so long, and you wonder if you simply agreed to this in the hope that he might end that suffering, whether on purpose or by accident. You push yourself into your meditative state to allow yourself some peace.
A knock jolts you from your trance, and for a moment, you panic, looking around the unfamiliar room. You never thought you would miss the smell of Shadowheart. She carried the fragrance of safety but also food. You console yourself with the knowledge that at least your friends are safe from your insatiable hunger.
Slipping off the bed, you unlock and open the door. Astarion is attired grandiosely, and you wonder what business he’s going to, but it’s none of your concern.
He’s so handsome it’s nigh on unlawful.
“I’ll be taking my leave now. The curtains are all drawn. I am unlikely to return until late.”
“Okay,” you look past him and around the dimmed manor, “thank you for letting me know.”
“You will be okay here on your own?”
“I’m not going to go chasing nobles through the streets if that’s what you’re asking.”
He chuckles, “Not what I meant, darling, but thank you for the assurances. I’ll see your delicious self later.”
Once you hear Astarion leave, you take another lap around the manor mentally making note of where all the windows are and inventory of all the exits.
Just in case.
In the kitchen, your eyes fall on a shelf full of extravagant and exotic wines, liquors and spirits.
Can a vampire spawn get drunk?
Fuck it.
Let’s find out.
You pick up whatever bottle your hands land on first, uncork it and gulp it down. You cringe at the taste of bitter, vinegary ash on your tongue. The liquor sits precariously in your stomach, a balmy tingle arising and spreading through your limbs. It’s been forever since you’ve had a drink, quite literally a lifetime.
You could never indulge in such stupidity when living with Shadowheart and Gale. Anything that could alter your mind or dampen your resolve was not a risk you could take, but here, the only person you were endangering was yourself.
An acceptable risk.
Finishing the bottle, you pick up another and take it to the large dining area, sitting at the dark wood table with delicately carved legs. You’re desperate to feel the numbing caress of the spirits as it fuels you with the courage you’re currently missing, even if that courage is nothing but a hoax being played on your dimmed mind.
Time passes by in a blur as you sit there encased in your own self-loathing and morbidity, and old memories you wish you could forget start to surface as the authority you have over yourself slips.
“Wake up, Astarion.”
You reach out but go to jostle him a little to pull him out of his trance, but his hand catches your wrist, and his eyes open in narrow slits.
“My favourite travelling companion, what can I do for you?”
“Keep your voice down, or you will wake the others. Get dressed and meet me at the edge of camp. Bring your weapons and wear your armour.”
Astarion sits up and peers around the camp. The others are all fast asleep in their tents around you. He cocks an eyebrow at you, confused but nods his understanding.
You creep as best you can through the camp away from his tent, but rocks grate harshly under your feet with every step. You stop and look around constantly to be sure you haven’t awoken anyone else.
“Gods, if you keep making that ruckus, you’ll get us both caught.”
Astarion’s sudden appearance by your side makes you jump, and he grabs you before you can clatter to the ground and muffles your breathy shriek with his hand tightly over your mouth. You pull his hand away from your mouth and scowl at him. You keep your voice in the quietest whisper you can.
"Not all of us are imbued with your talents, Rogue.”
“No, Sorceress,” he tuts, “that’s readily apparent. Do you trust me?”
“What are you on about?”
He smirks, “Don’t scream.”
Astarion sweeps your feet out from under you and lifts you effortlessly. He quietly carries you the rest of the way out of camp before setting you back down with a smug half-smile.
“You didn’t have to carry me.”
“Darling, I’m surprised you made it to my tent without waking the others. I heard you coming a mile away.”
“Why didn’t you say something then?”
He shrugs, “I wanted to see if you were coming to plunge a stake through my ribs.”
“And if I was?”
“Then I would have had to stop that pretty little heart of yours,” he pokes a finger into your chest, “Now, what are you waking me up for in the dead of night? I do need my beauty sleep, you know.”
“I’m going to go take care of the Gur tracking you. I thought you might enjoy the show, and if you care to lend a hand, I wouldn’t say no to the help.”
His eyes widen in surprise, “Why? You ever so vexingly made us walk away from him earlier.”
“Karlach and Wyll are not murderers. I didn’t want to stain their hands with blood against their will.”
“But you are? A murderer, I mean.”
For you, yes.
“Sometimes… sometimes death is necessary, and I’m not afraid to do what’s necessary. I won’t allow him to make a deal with the Hag, hunt you down and take you back to Cazador.”
“How very… sweet.”
“Are you coming, or are you just going to stand there and stare at me like I’m your next meal?”
“A man can dream. Lead on, my dear.”
With only the two of you, the battle with the Gur is fatiguing and arduous. He is well-equipped and trained, but your magic is a draconic firestorm. Astarion took him by surprise, allowing you both to land several attacks before he could recover. You hold back and let Astarion land the killing blow, driving his dagger deep into Gandrel’s chest.
Regardless of your magical prowess, you don’t make it out of the battle unscathed.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’ll be fine. He caught me with an arrow or two.”
Astarion grabs your hands and shoves them hard against your wound, “Keep pressure on it. Hold on.”
He jogs over the Gandrel’s backpack and starts rifling through it. There’s concern inlaid in his features that you haven’t seen.
Well, other than for himself.
He returns to your side quickly and hands you a Potion of Healing, “Drink up. Preferably, before you bleed out.”
You roll your eyes at him but drink the potion happily, which eases some of your discomfort and refuels your body.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Astarion. Really, but you’re injured as well.”
“I’m already dead, my dear. Not to worry, I’ve been in far more dire straits. We are positively bathed in blood. We can’t return to camp like this unless you wish to appraise the others of our nighttime activities.”
“Well, what do you suggest?”
“There’s a river near that village. We can wash up there before I sneak us back into camp.”
You nod and start toward the river. The night is clear, and the moonlight is enough to light your way without the need for extra magical assistance.
When you arrive at the river, Astarion strips down without hesitation and wades into the running water. The pale light from the moon washes him in an otherworldly brilliance. A gentle breeze stirs his hair and casts frolicking shadows over him.
Gods, he’s beautiful. Mere words can’t do this man justice.
A haughty smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “Are you going to join me or just stand there gawking?”
“Right. Sorry.”
“Oh, don’t apologize. You know I am all for shallow praise.”
You strip off your trousers and blood-soaked robe but hesitate when it comes to your undergarments, feeling suddenly shy as his crimson eyes pour over your body.
“Bashful tonight, are you? You were not so reserved when we were getting lost in each other in the forest.”
A rush of heat washes up to your face at his teasing, and he chuckles. With a deep breath, you calm your flighty nerves, strip down and wade into the river.
“I thought you said one or two arrows caught you.”
You look down at your body and see several wounds marring your flesh where arrows grazed you. There is a rather deep puncture wound in your shoulder where you had to pull one out mid-battle. That one would have lodged itself right into your heart had Astarion not pushed you out of its path at the last second.
“Or three or four. Who’s counting?”
Astarion’s fingers graze over the wounds lightly, “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Are you concerned for me or at the waste of my blood?”
He shrugs, “Can it not be both?”
You huff an exasperated sigh and turn away from him, scrubbing the blood off of your hands, arms and body. Astarion’s chest presses up against your back, and his arm wraps around your waist carefully.
His lips ghost over your ear, “Thank you.”
“Drinking the expensive stuff, I see.”
Astarion’s voice nudges you out of your thoughts, and your eyes lazily drift to him leaning in the archway, observing you with an earth-shatteringly handsome smirk.
“I’ll pay you back for it.”
He laughs, “Your tab is running rather high these days - a rug, shirt, and now several bottles of imported liquor.”
“Sell my stuff like you were going to.”
“No, darling. I don’t need coin. Although, if you keep drinking like this, I may have to start picking pockets again.”
Astarion takes a seat at the table with you. Reaching over, he grabs the bottle and takes a long drink. He smells like his familiar self, but there’s a tinge of tangy blood, and it’s not his. He looks on edge, something frightening in his body language, and your throat constricts.
“How was your business meeting or whatever you’re up to?”
“Disappointing. I’d rather not discuss it.”
“You’re angry.”
“Yes.”
It comes out as a warning that makes your hair stand on end, and you fill your body with the weave, tugging on your inherent talents.
“Shall we go and get you some food and continue your lessons?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea tonight.”
He takes another swig from the bottle and sets it on the table. His finger taps the side, making the glass ting sweetly.
“I will change, and we can be on our way.”
“I said not tonight, Astarion.”
“I will not allow you to go hungry. We are going.”
“No!”
With a dark, dangerous growl, Astarion swiftly rises from his chair, grabs you by the throat and slams you hard against the wall. Your head bounces off of it with a loud thud, and stars burst in a spectacular light show behind your eyes.
Your head swims groggily, “Stop, Astar-!”
He increases the pressure on your throat, causing your words to cut off abruptly in a strangled wheeze.
“Or what, sorceress?” he laughs menacingly, “Are you going to burn me again?”
His eyes are once again listless and piercing, and he scowls at you grimly.
This is what I’ve agreed to. This is why I’m here.
I’m an idiot.
His grip on your throat stops you from being able to speak. If you’re going to get through to him this time, you’re going to have to resort to violence. It was something you didn’t want to do because violence seemed to escalate him further, not calm him down, but you can’t do anything pinned to this wall.
Thankfully, since Astarion has been keeping you fed, you’re stronger, relatively clear-headed, except for the liquor, and in control of your body.
Swinging your feet up in a swift motion, you plant them on his stomach and launch him backwards off of you. His grip is ripped away, and you clatter to the floor.
“You ungrateful petulant ingrate!”
“Astarion,” you croak, “I’m begging you. Listen to my voice and come back to me.”
“The Astarion you knew is long dead, pet. I should have let you burn!”
He’s taunting me, trying to provoke me. I have to keep my wits about me.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I… I-”
You’ve got him fumbling. Righting yourself, you launch at him, wrapping your arms around his neck with your legs secured around his hips. You cling to him and bring your lips to his. It feels like kissing a stranger and makes you want to cringe. He’s rigid and tense. His mouth is set in a hard line under yours.
You squeeze your eyes shut and say a small prayer to any God listening, hoping this works. If it doesn’t, you’ve lost before you could even really begin.
You feel the shift in him start as he trembles savagely against you. His hand grabs a handful of your shirt in a tight fist, and he grits his teeth.
You shift your lips away from his and bring them near his ear, “I’ve got you, Astarion. Fight.”
Squeezing closer to him, you lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. All you can do now is wait and see if he can find his way out of the sadistic purgatory he retreats to when this thing, whatever it may be, takes over his control, compelling him to be this monster.
Your heart aches for him. All Astarion has wanted as long as you’ve known him was not to be a puppet, a slave to someone else’s whims and desires. The promise of power and eternal safety is what made the ritual so appealing to him. What a cruel joke it was to end up a slave to a version of yourself you don’t recognize.
Astarion’s hand snakes up your shirt and slides smoothly over the skin of your back, pulling you closer, “I’m back, little love. You can let go now.”
I don’t want to let go.
Releasing your grip on him, you slide back to the floor and step away, feeling unexpectedly shy.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t, but you’re afraid.”
“I have good reason to be.”
He nods, “You do.”
“I need your consent, Astarion.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“If this is to continue, I need to know you’re okay with the… physicality. I can’t fight you back. It only drives you further away, and it will end up getting me killed. The only way I’ve been able to break you free from the chains your thoughts hold you with is… well, you know.”
You shift on your feet anxiously with your hands wrapped behind your back while he stares at you.
“Why do you think I would not be comfortable with such an…. arrangement?”
“You know exactly why, Astarion. If this is to continue, I need your assurance that I’m not pushing any boundaries.”
“You have my consent; do what you must, but do not allow me to harm you. Fight me if that’s what must be done. Fight me with everything you have. Don’t hold anything back.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Astarion.”
Even if I could.
The back of his fingers glide tenderly down your cheek, “Do what must be done, my love.”
No.
“Fine.”
He nods, and relief floods the vibrant red sea of his eyes, “If you do not wish to go hunting tonight, that’s fine. If that’s all, I will retire for the night.”
“Okay.”
“Goodnight, beautiful.”
“Astarion?”
“Yes?”
“What happens when someone else makes you angry? Someone that’s not me.”
His voice is dark, cold and grim, “They don’t survive.”
Oh… How many people has he killed?
“I… see. Goodnight.”
Astarion doesn’t even look at you as he turns around and retires to his bedroom.
Withdrawing to your room, you lock the door and slide into the empty bed with a dismal sigh. He may not have said it outright, but the urging nature of his voice telling you to “do what must be done” was daunting.
Was he telling me to kill him if I must? Even if I were capable of it, could I do that to him? If it came down to my life or his, whose would I choose?
Too many questions, not enough answers.
You try to pull your trance over your consciousness to blanket it, but it doesn’t come. The events of the night weigh too heavily on your mind. Not only did you have to be wary of upsetting him, but you also had to be wary of anyone else who might aggravate him.
That’s why he smelled like blood tonight… Someone lost their life to his demons.
In truth, the people he was doing “business” with were probably hardly people who deserved to be saved anyway. Regardless, you worry that every time he gives in to these gruesome impulses, he might lose more and more of himself until there are no traces of him remaining.
A very fine mess indeed.
You toss and turn in your bed, trying to find a comfortable position. Your senses are all heightened and alert. You’re scared to sleep, to leave yourself vulnerable to attack with him so close by. A locked door will not keep him at bay if he decides he no longer wants to participate in this experiment.
“I won’t allow the sun or myself to hurt you.”
His words surface in your mind. How could he possibly know that? He just admitted that he kills others who provoke him, likely without remorse or thought. He had sounded so resolute when he said it as if it was just a simple matter of fact and not simply conjecture.
He hasn’t killed me yet, I suppose.
You spend the rest of the night flip-flopping around in your bed, lost in thought and unable to find any rest.
You’re still wide awake, sitting in your bed when a knock at your door finally rings through the silence. When you answer it, the sun streams in bright and glorious, and you jump back, a reflexive habit, falling to the floor.
Astarion approaches you with sorrowful eyes, offering you a hand up, “You’re safe, love. I won’t allow any harm to come to you.”
You take his hand, and he hauls you up on your feet, “It will take some… adjusting to, I think.”
“Your belongings have arrived. Would you like me to have them bring it to your room or leave it downstairs?”
“Are they living or spawn?”
“Living.”
“Leave it downstairs. I can’t be trusted around them. I’ll bring it up myself.”
Astarion bows, “As you wish.”
He disappears out your door to give directions to whoever has been sent to fetch whatever belongings remain at the palace. Soon, you can hear hearts beating heavily with effort, and it sounds like a euphony lullaby. It marks your guts stir with well-known, unslakable sanguine thirst.
Crushing your eyes shut, you dig your nails into your palms harshly, causing shallow wounds that weep blood to give you something else to focus on other than the siren song of the living.
One day without food and I’m already losing it.
Astarion’s hands find yours, and you lurch at the sudden contact, “They’ll be gone soon, darling. Hold onto me.”
You need to anchor yourself on something, anything, and you fold your arms around him and hold on tightly, gripping handfuls of his coat. You put your ear to his chest and try to focus on the sound of his beating heart. His hand rubs your back comfortingly. It feels like forever to you before a voice rises from the staircase.
“Master Ancunin?”
“Yes?”
“We’ve finished.”
“Very good. You may leave.”
“As you say, saer.”
The door shuts, and the beating tune of hearts fades slowly. Your hands finally unclench and stop tugging on his jacket.
“Getting blood all over my clothing again, I see.”
Shit.
“Sorry. I… I wasn-”
A low laugh catches you off guard, “Don’t worry, my sweet. I’ve learned not to wear my fine clothing around you. You’re always bleeding on me, burning me, or throwing me across courtyards, after all. Look at me.”
Looking up at him, he brushes your hair back, “You didn’t sleep at all last night. Why?”
“How do you know?”
“I can hear you tossing around in here.”
Shifting away from him, you cast your eyes at the floor, “I’m not used to sleeping at night.”
Not quite a lie, but not quite the truth.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
How does he always know when I’m lying? I’m able to persuade most people, but not him, never him.
“I should get my things.”
“Would you like a hand?”
“No, thank you,” you smirk, “I’m sure Master Ancunin has more important things to do.”
He chuckles, “Cheeky pup, aren’t you? If you need help, you know where to find me.”
You have to make several trips to bring all your old things to your room, stacking boxes and crates in a corner.
I didn’t realize how much I left behind.
Astarion kept all your clothing, robes, quarterstaffs, circlets, and various enchanted rings and necklaces. It takes hours to unpack, sort through it and put it away.
Reaching into a long crate, you pull out the Cazador’s quarterstaff, Woe. You reflexively throw it to the ground, and it clatters on the wooden floor with a loud bang. You shuffle back away from it as fast as you can, as if it were threatening your life by simply existing.
Astarion appears in the open doorway to your bedroom, seemingly out of thin air. He perceives the horror afflicting your expression and looks around as if searching for danger.
“Are you alright? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you blurt out a little too fast, “Everything is fine.”
His eyes search the room and land on the quarterstaff strewn on the floor.
“Quarterstaff troubling you, my dear?”
“Why did we keep this thing?”
“It’s a decent item,” he shrugs, “I’m sure it has its uses.”
Images of Astarion completing the ritual and ascending froth over in your mind.
The red glow of his eyes. The sound of the other spawn and prisoners popping. The maniacal laugh that resounded from him.
You recoil, cringing, “I don’t want it. Get rid of it.”
He picks it up and turns it over in his hands, “Why? It could be useful.”
“I don’t care how useful it could be. I don’t want it. Sell or destroy it. I couldn’t care less but get rid of it.”
He cocks a brow at you, confused, “If that’s truly what you want. Perhaps I’ll give it to Elowyn.”
“Elowyn?”
“Ah, yes, you don’t know her name.”
The mulberry-haired woman.
A jumbled fusion of betrayal, anger and jealousy rises like bile in your throat, “Don’t you dare, Astarion.”
“Why not? You said you don’t want it, and I have no use for it.”
“She’s dangerous. Something is off about her.”
He giggles, “Jealous, are you? That’s very cute.”
Jealousy does not begin to describe it.
“You never listen to me. I said she’s dangerous!”
“Darling, she’s a mere human. She’s no more of a danger to me than a fly is to carrion.”
“You’re blind if that’s what you truly think, Astarion.”
“Care to elaborate on your analysis of my relationship?”
Relationship? Ouch.
That stings.
“I’m assuming she knows what you are.”
“She knows I’m a vampire. Nothing more.”
“Gods, for someone smart, you’re dull sometimes.”
He laughs, “Am I?”
“Give me the fucking quarterstaff. It’s safer in my hands than it is in hers.”
“No, you said get rid of it. I will oblige your request.”
You cast Telekinesis, ripping it out of his hands, and grasp it. It feels repulsive in your palm, and you shudder, fighting the urge to throw it to the ground.
You level a challenging glare at him, and the intonation of your voice is defiant and harsh, “I said it’s mine.”
You catch his eyes shift again. The telltale sign you’ve irked him in some form, and you wait for the inevitable strike. Astarion grits his teeth, but keeps his eyes open, staring into yours boringly.
“May I kiss you?”
“What?”
“Please.”
There’s urgency in his voice, and you watch as his hand balls up into a shaking fist.
He’s trying to fight it himself, but he needs my help.
“Yes.”
Astarion crosses the room quickly, ripping the quarterstaff out of your hands and throwing it to the ground. His lips meet yours with desperation, like you’re the single thing in existence that will keep him afloat.
His hands find your waist and tug you closer to him, crushing himself against you. Your eyes flutter shut, and you’re engulfed and consumed by the depraved thoughts swirling through your head.
His kiss turns rougher, more insistent, and you murmur against him. He takes the opportunity, and his tongue slips between your lips. Any rational thought you were capable of is blown away in a supernova of sensation and is replaced by desire and passion alone.
You want him. You want him with everything you have and everything you are so entirely you’re not sure you’ve ever wanted anything else more in your life.
Astarion grinds into you with a rumbling groan, and you can feel his pulsing erection. He guides your hips and rolls them against himself, eliciting a shuddering pant from you at the exquisite friction against the throbbing in between your thighs.
“Gods, you feel good against me.”
His voice breaks you out of your passion-fuelled delirium, and you push him away, taking several steps back.
“Are you back?”
“Oh yes,” he coos, “I’ve been me for quite some time now.”
“Great. Now, get out.”
“What? You can’t be serious. Look at you; you’re practically vibrating with need, as am I, quite obviously,” his eyes shift towards the bulge in his trousers with a devious grin, “We could assist each other.”
“Go get Elowyn to assist you.”
His brows knit together, “Is that really what you want?”
“What I want hasn’t mattered to you for quite some time, I imagine.”
“What do you want? Name it, and I will make it yours.”
You.
You point at Woe, “I want you to destroy the quarterstaff.”
“What?”
Will he? I’m pushing my luck.
“Destroy it. Snap it in half. You’re strong enough to do that, are you not?”
“Of course, but-” he sputters.
“No, “but,” Astarion. You either do as I ask, or you decline. The choice is yours.”
Astarion’s eyes narrow slightly and shift to the quarterstaff lying where he threw it. He picks it up, inspecting it raptly. His crimson eyes slither up the surface of it while his hands do the same.
With a growl, he easily snaps it in two. A bright flash of light emits as the magical enchantment is released, making that terrible, hideous thing nothing but an inert hunk of useless, gleaming metal.
“A pity,” he pouts, “I do hate to waste perfectly good treasure.”
He actually did it?
“Thank you, Astarion.”
“I aim to please,” he bows shallowly, “Now get ready. The night is almost upon us, and I imagine you’re ravenous.”
In more ways than one.
Thank you to everyone who reads/likes/comments/reblogs! I plan to keep updating as long as people seem to be enjoying the story.
Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts
If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past
AO3 [Crossposted]
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