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itsgothgirlthyme · 7 months

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chapter 1: the plummet of doom

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stranger things g/t

hi! i had multiple asks for this so i finally wrote something for it!! i hope i can deliver, based on what i made last year. i wanna continue this story :) ugHh! summary is, dustin finds you, and its misery. until TADA steve harrington swoops in to save you. also the borrower is a fellow girly.

borrower!reader x steve harrington

pov: you're a borrower who got herself stuck in a trash can

Stuck between plastic you tried to pry yourself out of the darkness. The stench of rotten foods you’d wished you’d gotten your hands on before made you gag. Sure, you could take the smell of a dead mouse stuck inside a trap but still cry at its death. Yet this food, it smelled foul and your hand sunk into it. It collapsed under your fingers as you gingerly pulled your hand back. You grabbed onto a piece of black plastic and pulled yourself up.

I’m such an idiot.

You continued to climb up the mountains of garbage bags while trying not to fall. It was slick or sticky depending where you touched it. You recalled yourself earlier in the day when no one was home, other than for that stupid cat. You’d climbed onto the tabletop and were getting quite a few crumbs of bread. A victory you awaited to celebrate in the coziness of your walls. Yet when that thing meowed at you, it scared the shit out of you. Foolishly you misstepped and fallen into the depths of rotten peels and papers. Your hook had gotten stuck on thick brown paper and wouldn’t let go, and then the worst of it happened. That damn door to the entrance boomed making you freeze up. Your grip grew tighter as footsteps boomed in your direction. A familiar high-pitched voice of the house was talking to the devil cat.

Then she muttered something about the trash being taken out. That's when you hid under the flesh of fruit and held your breath. Then find yourself trying to untangle yourself from this mess. It had taken far too long to break the garbage bag, but journeying to the top of the tin became hard labor. You were dirty, sweating, and really wanted a breath of fresh air. Things you were used to feeling, but this time you weren’t sure if you’d make it. These humans, you weren’t sure where they threw out so much food waste in the first place. Your hands trembled. Would you suffocate in this pile of trash, or worse?

You climbed up the last black bag closest to the lid. Yet you were so far away, and when you jumped your flicker of hope vanished.

“Shit,” you squeaked as your foot went over something slick.

You fell on top of another bag in the darkness and looked up at the ceiling. The longer you looked at the dark metal caved lid your eyes welled up. This couldn’t be it, to die due to your own foolishness. You’d expected to die due to a fight with the whiskered beast, or crushed by the hand of a human. Not being dumped into the trash due to your own skittishness (or stupidity).

“No,” you said to yourself. You got up and slid down the trash to hit the metal can. You started to bang it in frustration, like it would open. You shouted till your throat got sore, not remembering when you’d even shouted last. Hot tears slipped down your face, at least you wouldn’t go down quietly. Yet no one would know, the mad little borrower, screaming till they could no longer breathe.

Your knuckles stung and your tears had stopped. Then a loud creaking noise followed by being shed in golden light made you gasp. Tearful again you turned to look up and your eyes went wide. The house you borrowed from, the boy that lived there, stared down at you in awe.

“Holy shit,” he said.

You purse your lips together and lean into the wall.

I think I’ll die actually.

Your thoughts were not answered as a large hand loomed over you. You ran and tried to dig your way into the garbage. When you tried to dive in further into the trash he’d gotten your leg. Pulling you out painfully slowly and you sighed. This was worse than trash death, this was so much worse. You were held upside down and you were met with his dark brown eyes. His fingers pinched your ankle and you were terrified it would break.

“What are you?” he asked.

A warm cloud of air hit your face causing you to swing. You stayed silent, not daring to give this kid more reason to keep you around. You hoped. Again, your hopes were crushed as he dropped you into darkness. The small space had even you feeling cramped in as you kicked the doors of it. He shushed you but that only made you kick harder. The doors wouldn’t budge but when you heard two voices you stopped.

Then it went quiet. Then it went still. Then something zipped and you hit the ground.

“Ow,” you muttered.

The ground under you was colored red and felt like dust. You became distracted for a moment as you put it between your fingers. Tiny rocks slipped past your fingers, and your lips parted. You realized it was quite warm as well, and when you looked up you hissed. It was a bright light that packed a lot of heat it seemed. You’d never seen it before, or maybe you had. You looked away and blinked. Seeing the outline of the light in dark colors everywhere you looked. Then you saw the kid again, staring at you.

You stood up and already scurried off under a piece of wood. Yet he knew you were there but you couldn’t help yourself. You’d rather die trying to survive than playing his game.

“Aw, hey buddy. I’m not going to hurt you,” his voice was now above you.

“Buddy,” you scoffed with a brow raised.

This kid was trying to act like a nice guy?

“Look, uh. I don’t know if you know English actually,” he said. You looked to the other exit of the wood tunnel and started to crawl through it. “But I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” he said. When you crawled out you saw him, staring right at you. He frowned but then his face lit up.

“Maybe you’re hungry,” he seemed determined as he scurried out of the room. You looked back at the red dust to see it stopped at… glass. Your heart dropped and you got out of the wooden tunnel. You looked around to see your worst nightmare. You were trapped in a glass box, and the only way out was up. Your heart started to pound against your chest and your hand touched it. You wanted to cry again, and you weren’t sure if it was possible to.

Then something fell right beside you, and you looked back up. The kids' fingers pulled away and you looked back down. There was a pile of food beside you and you licked your lips. The kid told you to go ahead and eat from the same source. He called it, KitCat? Whatever it was, it took you a moment but you dug right in. It tasted like heaven to you, it melted in your mouth and was sweet. A different kind of sweet from that one time you had the peel of an apple or any other food.

You’d sat down beside it and ate away till you were full. When you were done, you could feel his eyes burning the back of your head. You sighed, now full, at least feeling a little better, but what now?

“My name is Dustin,” he introduced himself.

Your brows shot up and you looked up at him.

“Dustin,” he pointed at himself.

The giant child was trying to have a conversation with you. You sighed, defeated, and took in a deep breath. You stood up and told him your name. This sent him into being a crazed maniac. He was giggling, gasping, and practically shouting at you. You just stared back up at him in shock at how overjoyed he was to hear you say a couple of words. You decided to stay quiet afterward, already regretting those words. You’d hidden under the wooden log and curled yourself up into a ball. You didn’t even have your damn hook anymore, you felt naked, useless. Eventually, the kid gave up, told you goodnight, and turned the lights off. Except yours. Thankfully it was a quiet night as you tried to fight off heavy eyelids. Eventually darkness, once again, got the best of you.

You felt weightless and then your face crashed into something. You blinked your eyes open and realized you were trapped in darkness. You rubbed your eyes and your body flung toward another wall in the darkness. You hissed in response and backed up to the other wall. You steadied yourself and then your heart sank.

Last night flashed before your eyes and now you were here. Stuck inside the trap he’d put you in last night. Going who knows where, and you couldn't fight it. You couldn’t do anything so you kicked the opening again. Nothing happened, but you did it again. You kicked again and again until you got tired.

Being thrown into a bag and tossed around was not ideal. All the while this kid, Dustin, said nothing to you. You sat, defeated in his trap, as loud muffled noises met your ears. It scared the hell out of you, to be in this position. Would he tell other humans about you? What was he going to do with you? It made your head hurt.

Time passed, and finally, the bag opened. You were lying down and were immediately met with new faces. They all looked wide-eyed, mouths dropped and they were all children.

“Oh what the…” you stood up while trying to sink back into the bag.

“What is that?” the boy with thick black hair said.

You raised a brow at that, that. They are referring to you as it?

Dustin told them your name and you rubbed your temple. Your neck strained looking up at a total of five new faces. Oh, you hated this, this is bad.

“What? Did you name it?” the boy with a bandana tied around his head asked.

“It’s my own name,” you spoke up.

All eyes snapped to you and you stayed seated. You looked over your shoulder and your eyes went wide. All you could see were patches of long thick green grass.

“This is insane,” the redhead girl said.

“Isn’t it so cool?” Dustin said giddily.

You followed the conversation, kinda, but eventually, you lost track of the topics. Something about a creature named Dart, and how Dustin found you. You hopped over the ledge and your feet were met with a soft ground. The blades of grass met your height and the edge of your lips tugged upward. You reached a hand out to touch it but then you got scooped up into a warm hand.

Damnit.

You struggled against their grip but their fingers just tightened around you. The world spun until you were met by the kids' faces again. They started to blur in front of you and your breath started to get shallow. Once again you’d faded into darkness.

—

It had been a couple of days of being handled and biting your tongue. You’d still been staying in Dustin’s glass box, which was called an “aqua-something�� you couldn’t remember. You’d occasionally see his pet “turtle” slowly walking around on the floor. You sat on the log with your head in your hands. Trying to think of a way out of the cage, since Dustin put down the mesh top on it. You were close to escape two nights ago but had managed to mess up your leg. It wasn’t till you were awkwardly walking around in the morning he’d made the connection.

You perked up when you heard the door and slid under the log. You watched Dustin walk in on his lonesome. That was odd, usually the other kids joined him to just watch you (creepy). He flopped onto the bed and huffed. You rested your hands on the log and watched him look sad. It actually made your heart crack at the sight. Dustin hadn’t treated you horribly, but not amazingly either. Yet, you knew human children were complicated. You’d heard his mom complain about his teenage years when you were still in the walls.

Your brows furrowed and you huffed. Yep, now you remembered why you hated him. He took you away from your quiet, peaceful life which would have ended in a trashy death. When you zoned back into reality Dustin was no longer in bed. The hairs on your neck rose as a shadow loomed over you. Exhausted, you just let him pick you up into his warm palms. He held you in a loose fist and you stared up at him.

“You’re still mad at me?” he asked.

You didn’t say anything and he sighed. Clearly, you were still upset over him holding you so tightly you’d passed out. The first time he showed you to his friends, he’d left bruises for days all over your ribs. They were sore alongside your pride, now with the addition of a possibly broken leg.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated for the millionth time. You looked away with little to no interest in his words. If you had any power over him, it was this. You didn’t give him what he wanted, and he’d leave you alone. Most of the time. This time he’d placed you in his backpack which had duck tape all over one side. You were surrounded by duck tape on the inside as well and pressed yourself up against it. He’d travel in silence the entire time and that freaked you out. The kid was always talking your ear off, even when you were pretending to not listen. Honestly, the things he said confused you but again, interested you.

In the darkness, you finally heard Dustin whispering. Another voice whispered back and soon enough you were jostled in the bag. You landed on your bad leg and bit down a yelp. The sound of the zipper was followed by light. You dragged yourself to the corner of the pocket and were still shed by a shadow.

“Dude, what are you talking about? There's nothing here,” a guy said.

“She’s probably hiding, hold on,” Dustin said.

Damn right, I am.

You pressed your back against the wall and hugged your knee to your chest. You blinked in surprise as the surface below you tipped. You started to slide and you had nothing to grab onto. Your good leg met with a hard surface and the bag disappeared. Your eyes darted around you and you found out you were on an open table. Escape was possible.

“What the–” you heard as Dustin cut off the voice.

“Right?” Dustin introduced you to the voice.

You slowly turned around to be met with someone older for once. You take a step back and cringe at the pain shooting up your leg. The guy looked at you with wide brown eyes but they softened. His tense shoulders relaxed and his brows furrowed. He put his hands on the table and he looked at Dustin.

“She’s scared, and looks like hell,” he said. Soon enough loud voices filled your ears as you started to step away to the edge of the table. You looked down at the drop which would surely end you. A shiver ran up your spine and you looked over your shoulder.

…

Steve watched you and his chest cracked at the sight. You were pale and were shaking like a leaf. Not to mention the limp in your walk. You’d been handled by Dustin and his knucklehead friends. He ran a hand through his hair and put a hand on his hip. He’d dealt with weird shit before but you were something entirely new. He didn’t want to freak you out, considering Dustin had helped in that department already.

“Okay okay,” Steve tapped the table, “Dustin, I’m taking her.”

“What?” Dustin asked and your head snapped to Steve.

Steve’s eyes went wide and he shook his head. “I mean, they’ll just stay with me. Dustin, clearly you’ve done enough.”

Dustin tried to fight his idea, claiming you’d been “found” by him. If anything you helped him, you vividly remember going insane in a trash can. That led him to opening it, so you really saved yourself, kinda.

“Dustin, just look at her,” Steve pointed at you.

Dustin’s anger washed away but no words followed.

“Steve!” Robin shouted from the other side of the doors.

“Yeah, I heard you!” Steve shouted back.

You jumped and he apologized immediately. Your tiny face finally looked up at him but he couldn’t detect your emotions. Once Dustin recapped Steve on what had happened up to this point, Robin burst in.

“Jesus,” Steve jumped and turned around to face her. He moved himself to cover you from her vision as Robin started to complain to him.

“C’mon doofus, it's my break time,” Robin exclaimed and continued to complain.

Your heart raced as you let Steve’s silhouette cover you from her eyes. Dustin kept looking at you but you could never meet his eyes. You sidestepped closer to Steve and the edge of the table. Your head was spinning, and you were losing sight of your escape plan “the plummet of doom” you’d called it 5 minutes ago.

“Oh my god, what is that?” you heard and you looked upward.

Robin, Steve, and Dustin loomed over you. Your heart plummeted to your stomach and you slid off the table. You hugged a leg of the table and made your way down. Shouts followed and then your fingers gave out. Hair whipped your face as you shut your eyes tight. Instead of being met with a hard floor you were met with something soft. You opened your eyes to see Steve staring down at you, inches away. Your face flushed at the closeness while he looked startled. His fingers cave in around you to hold you still and you don’t move.

“Jesus, who jumps off a ledge like that?” was the first thing he blurted.

#g/t #stranger things g/t #g/t stranger things #g/t writing #g/t thoughts #giant/tiny #borrower!reader #borrower!reader x steve harrington #g/t community #g/t fic #g/t fiction #giant tiny #I WILL WRITE PART 2 SOON #this was rough to start #but bare with me #it'll be good #gotta just do some build up first #thank you for reading :)

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 7 months

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Kidnapped Astarion

I have a very specific thing I can't stop thinking about. That involves Astarion getting kidnapped by Cazador for the ritual and him taunting him over the lie that Tav gave him away. Sold him even.

Tw: Lies, manipulation, mentions of torture, bad times had all around, it's long as fuck, betrayal (or at least the lie of it). Like Cazador is involved so all bad. Very bad. This also has VIOLENCE. Like canon game violence but it is BLOODY. You've been warned. Also happy ending :)

So now let's get to that angst:

It had all happened so fast.

One moment Astarion was laid back in the tent you share, reading a mediocre book as he impatiently waited for your return. He loathed when you went out without him, even if it was for good reason. He wasn't exactly welcome company when it came to solving Gale's problems, especially when it came to the bomb nestled in chest. You both knew his inability to keep his sarcastic quips to himself would not be an asset while exploring a sacred library. Besides, he didn't have much room to complain, not when he accompanied you on ninety-nine percent of your outings.

But that didn't mean he had to like it. Even if it was shaping up to be a nice, uneventful evening. He had set your tent a little farther away from the others, considering the complaints that some....well most had made about the volume of your nightly activities. It was quiet, peaceful even. The atmosphere tranquil enough for him to fully relax.

What a mistake that had been.

When the flap of the tent opened he didn't even look up, fully expecting it to be Shadowheart or Lae'zel coming round to dig about in his darling's things. It made sense, considering how it was one of the few times they wouldn't be risking walking in on something. You had such a bad habit with that "open door" policy of yours. One that had exposed nearly every party member to quite the show. Though in Astarion's view, they were just unreasonable. When you were both loud they complained. When you were quiet and they walked in on it they would whine even more. How could you win with people like that?

Perhaps a sign on the door would have done the trick, but Astarion would be lying if he didn't enjoy the others being fully aware of who could make you cry and moan. The risk was just more thrilling, if not the slightest bit annoying.

But the intruder was staying still at the opening, quiet as could be. It was odd enough to have Astarion glancing upward, his heart stopping in his chest at what he saw.

It was a man, frantically muttering something under his breath. A man that he recognized. The idiotic Petras, trying to cast some kind of incantation. It had Astarion scrambling upward, reaching for his dagger. But it was already too late. The spell was finished and Astarion could feel his senses start to fade away, one by one.

He had gotten sloppy, relying on the safety of camp that had never existed. And now he was paying the price, and what a price to pay. Even as he fell to the magic, one feeling managed to stay in place until the bitter end.

Terror.

And then, he felt nothing at all.

The next thing Astarion knew he was being awakened by a slap of cold water to his face, blinking up into horrifyingly familiar light. He immediately recognized where he was. The torture room, his arms hanging from the ceiling, his toes barely scraping the floor. It hurt to be suspended like this, a pain he was still so familiar with despite going months without. And in front of him was the cause of it all, sneering at him like the maniac he was.

Cazador.

"You're finally awake," He grinned, dropping the bucket that was in his hands, "You've been a very bad boy Astarion. Just what am I to do with you?"

Astarion wanted to answer, to curse at him, maybe even beg to just be left alone, but nothing came out. He was too stunned, too stupefied that he ended up here after everything he'd gone through. Everything you'd gone through. How could it end like this?

"I don't fully know what you were up to with all that time away from your family," Cazador continued, stepping close enough for Astarion to feel his disgusting breath on his skin, "But I think I may have the gist. Galivanting around with your merry-band of degenerates. Seems fitting."

Astarion gave a full-bodied flinch when Cazador started to graze along his collarbones with a gentle finger, his touch freezing and revolting. The gentleness wouldn't last, Astarion was surprised it was even there to begin with.

He should have realized there was a reason for it.

He trailed up his neck, stopping to trace a bruise you had left the night before. If only he had known that it was almost certainly the last time he would get to touch you. The realization was nearly enough to bring tears to Astarion's eyes, but he refused to cry in front of this creature, not if he could help it.

"Seems like you may have even found yourself a favorite amongst them. Tell me pet, who was it?"

"Fuck you." Astarion spat out, his fury managing to shine through his despair.

Astarion expected a hard slap for the insolence, but instead Cazador just laughed, loud and full-bellied, "You've gotten quite the temper since you've been away, haven't you? I wonder where that came about?"

It was a false question, Astarion could tell from the way his eyes were crinkled. Like a child excited to reveal a surprise. Cazador answered it for himself, "Is it that lovely little thing that you've been following around. Gods, what's their name again...Tav, is it?"

"Don't you dare say her name," Astarion growled, his righteous fury overcoming the ever-growing terror and dread, "They have nothing to do with this!"

"Oh but they do," Cazador grinned, stepping back to do one of his famous gloating sessions, "Just how do you think I found you? Luck? No my dear, you were given."

Astarion's answer was as immediate as it was hateful, "You're lying! You know nothing of them. Nothing of us."

He won't believe it, he has no reason to. You...you loved him. And you were probably looking for him as they spoke. You would never betray anyone like this, least of all him.

But Cazador remained unphased. If anything he was looking at him with pity, "Oh you poor thing. You think she cares? You think she loves you? I'm disappointed Astarion, it seems you've learned nothing from our time together. What is there to love, hm? Nothing that I can see. Though...they sure did seem to love the gold. You fetch quite the high price my dear. But it will be worth it."

Lies. It was all lies. It had to be. Astarion shoved his uncertainty back down, bellowing out, "Liar!"

It was forceful enough to even make Cazador falter for the briefest of moments, a split second that anyone else would have missed. But he pressed on, shaking his head, "Darling, don't you find it strange that you were all alone that day? That no one came to your aid? Where do you think you're love was, hm? Wait, don't tell me. I can remember...ah yes! With Gale, correct?"

Astarion swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. How...how did he know that?

"It was a fabulous excuse, was it not?" Cazador continued with a laugh, "We came up with that one together. After a little fun that is. I can see why you fell for their treachery Astarion, they are quite lovely, aren't they?"

No. No, no, no.

"Stop it," Astarion hissed, "Shut your mouth. I-It's not true."

"Oh but it is. I'm not sure if you're aware but you're quite the headache darling, not many can handle it. Not including myself. She even told me of that hilarious speech you gave. About wanting something real. It was just as funny to her as it was to me."

Astarion stared at him, at a complete loss for words. It couldn't be true. It couldn't. But...how else would he know that? In a camp full of people why did no one come to his aid? But the cruelty of it all...it was exactly the type of thing Cazador was versed in.

Setting up the same type of trap that he'd trained Astarion for, that he had used on others countless times. And he fell for it, he lost the game he thought he'd mastered.

His faith was slipping, hard and fast when he asked the horrible question, "How do you know that?"

"Because I sent them to you," He said with that disgusting grin, "It was no coincidence that you met. You were kidnapped, I needed you back, so I hired some help. It's a pity that they were captured as well. The pause to our plans was quite inconvenient. Our Tav just can't help but get distracted, can she?"

"No..." The word slipped out of Astarion without his consent, his mind racing. That couldn't be true. It didn't make sense. T-There had to be another explanation. If he could just think he'd find it. But...what point was there? He was already captured, taken. If anything, all of this being a grand scheme from Cazador was more logical than someone loving him.

He had gone through many, many tortures during his time here. Unspeakable, horrible things that he would never wish on anyone, excluding the man in front of him. But this...this was the worst thing he'd ever done to him. He had tricked him, you had tricked him, and he whole-heartedly fell for it, like the fool he was. The fool he would die as.

He didn't know it was possible, but this would be the greatest pain he ever knew. He was sure of that. Cazador had managed to do it. He had broken him, finally.

His tears were falling on their own accord, plentiful and pathetic. Cazador cooed at him, tracing his cheek with his horrid hand, "It hurts, doesn't it? I missed that expression on you my boy. You were always at you're prettiest when you had given up."

He wiped Astarion's tears away, gently holding his face as he spoke, "If only this was enough. The things I want to do to you for running away... I want to make you scream, make you beg for death. Just like how things used to be. If only we had the time."

Cazador let go, stepping back with a sigh, "How I wish that they had gotten you to me earlier. Though it's too late to pout about it now, the preparations are almost complete. But don't fret my boy, your end will have the meaning that your life failed to posses. Come along now."

Astarion hung there, limp as Cazador unhooked him from above. This was it. He was going to die here, as nothing but a pawn. He didn't even try to fight it when he was led down, deep into the palace to a place he'd never known existed. He kept his eyes closed for most of the journey, simply for the fact that he didn't have the strength to keep them open.

It was...a horrendous feeling to be incased in that red energy, floating in the air with all of his brothers and sisters as Cazador finished his preparations. It forced his eyes open against his will, making him see the hell that had been hiding beneath his feet all these years. He had been wrong about the sacrifice it seemed, it wasn't just them. There were thousands of bodies, barely alive in hanging cages, strewn throughout the place.

It was horrible, but fitting. Where else would something like him die? All he wished was that Cazador would hurry, so he could be done with it all. He has to much time to think in these last moments, too much time to examine your betrayal.

He...hates you. For it all. He hates you more than anything, enough for that same fury to come bubbling back to the surface. How dare you do this to him, after everything you'd been through. He should have killed you while you slept, while you let him drink from your throat. He should have killed them all, the vile sacks of shit.

If his soul ever found it's way back from the hell it was about to be damned too, he'd find you. His revenge was no longer reserved for Cazador, but for the wretched bitch hat tortured him in ways he didn't even think were possible. He'd do worse to you than anyone could imagine.

You were the cruelest thing to ever exist, as heartless and horrid as the monster before him.

So why was he still crying over it?

It didn't matter anyway. Not now. Now, all he could do was wait for the bitter end.

But then...he felt something. A familiar presence tickling the back of his mind. A barely there whisper, no words that he could make out. But it was getting stronger. Clearer.

It...it was you. Calling out to him with your illithid connection, begging for an answer.

My love, where are you? Astarion please, please tell me your there. Help me find you.

He can scarcely believe it. But he wasn't going to wait for his emotions to catch up to what could be an escape. He was screaming in his brain, trying to send out any signal that he could.

I'm here. I'm here. Don't let him take me. Please.

He could hear you in his head, the sheer relief from your mind nearly overwhelming, I'm coming. Hold on, I'm coming.

Astarion didn't even have the time to doubt. Because the next moment you were bursting through the ornate doors, nearly your entire team in tow.

Astarion had never seen you look the way you did then. He was so used to your kindness, the warmth and light that you tried to spread everywhere you went. You were always smiling, always laughing, always trying to share the same with others.

But now you were breathing hard, near feral in your posture as your eyes darted around, landing straight to the shocked Cazador. You looked murderous, vicious enough to send a shiver down Astarion's spine. Your teeth were bared, your whole body trembling with rage as you started to advance, weapons already drawn.

And in that moment Astarion was sure that you were the most gorgeous, perfect thing he had ever seen. Or ever would.

It was brutal, bloody battle. One that ended with you slitting Cazador's throat as Astarion watched in awe. You let the body fall to the ground, blasé before you finally ran to him, releasing him from his prison.

Then he was being pulled into the most crushing hug of his entire life. One that he was helpless to return. He clung to you, uncaring for their rather large audience.

He was too busy burying his face into your hair, breathing you in as you whispered into his shoulder, "Thank the Gods that you're still here."

The pain in your voice was so raw, so real. Astarion needed no other evidence to be sure that every word from the dead man's lips had been a lie. He was also positive that he had never cried this much in his life, but now it was a different kind of sob he was trying to choke back. The flood of relief was crushing, the truth that your love was real was nearly enough to destroy him all over again. Not for cruelties sake, but to make something new. To kill every last doubt he had that he was nothing, worthless. How could he be when you were here? When you came for him?

He pulled back reluctantly, smiling down at you with tear tracks on his face. He kissed your forehead, covered in sweat and blood, and gods knows what else.

It was all finally over. You both turned to the rest of the group, your hands clasped together as you made your way to where Cazador lay dead. It was satisfying to see, but such a shame that Astation wasn't the one to do the deed. A regret he'd have for the rest of his days.

Or so he thought.

But then you were turning to Shadowheart, your sweet face curling back into the disgust from earlier when you ordered, "Revive him."

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as she did what she was told. Cazador came back into consciousness, in what looked to be an extremely unpleasant experience. He was coughing blood, the spell doing just enough to mend his mortal wounds, but not nearly powerful enough to give him a fraction of his strength back. He stared upwards, his eyes wide at the sight of you lording over him.

And for the first time in two hundred years, Astarion saw fear in the other man's eyes. Wonderfully delicious fear.

He felt you squeeze his hand as he stared at him, speaking quietly, "He's yours. To do with what you please. Do...do you want us here for this?"

He could hear the hidden meaning in your words. This wasn't just a choice of what to do with him. It was a choice of what to do with them all. He had taken notice that he was the only one that you had freed, his brethren still suspended in air.

He turned to you, his voice strong for the first time since he'd come back to this pit, "I want you here for this."

You nodded before looking back to the others to tell them to wait outside. They did so reluctantly, obviously without confidence in his decision making abilities. He ignored the especially worried look Karlach sent his way, too focused on the piece of vampiric trash in front of him.

Cazador was still coughing, his mouth forming more vile words, "Y-You don't have to do this. I can-"

"Silence," Astation seethed, partly surprised when it worked to shut him up. But then again, he had never been placed in a position to see his master be the one without an escape, "Your life is in my hands now. Tell me the truth. How did you find me?"

Astarion could see the fury behind his eyes, the humiliation of being ordered around by his own spawn. But his desire for life won out in the end.

"Luck," he spat out, "Sheer luck. Yomen saw you in the city, at Shar's Caress with this one. He followed you, found your camp and reported back. I sent Dalyria and Petras to fetch you, gave them a powerful sleeping scroll to knock out your allies. And then you were mine again."

Astarion shouldn't have been surprised that he had the audacity to glare at Tav, seething, "Or at least you would have been."

"And my memories?" Astarion pressed, "How did you know of us?"

"The tadpole squirming behind your eyes doesn't change the fact that I am your master," Cazador said, "Your mind is mine to shape, to understand. It was more difficult than before, yes. But I had enough to know what to say."

Of course. He should have known, "So that was your last torture then?"

"Yes," Cazador said simply, a sneer managing to appear on his bloodied face, "And you have to admit, it worked wonderfully."

"You can kill him now if you'd like," You piped up from his side, staring down at the vampire like the trash he was, "Or...you can take his place."

You hesitated for a brief moment before steeling yourself, looking Astarion in the eye, "Whatever you choose, I'll be here for you. I promise."

Astarion nodded, weighing his options. It was so very difficult to not just kill him where he laid, like the pathetic dog he was. But then again...the ritual would mean endless power. Power that he could use to protect himself, to protect you. So nothing like this could ever happen again.

Astarion looked up, his eyes searching every last one of his brothers and sisters faces. They looked scared, perhaps even resigned to their fate. Just at the hands of another. Astarion hadn't expected the image to make him feel ill, yet it did.

Could he do it? Sacrifice them all, along with everyone else trapped in the bowels of their personal hell? He could. He knows he could. Yet...

He looked back at you, the only thing he had ever loved. The one person to show him a different way to live, who was giving him the freedom to be his own person. But... he wanted that person to be someone worthy of you. Someone who would make you proud.

And there was only one way to do that. Astarion let go of your hand, reaching for the dagger you kept at your belt before striding over to Cazador. He stabbed him with little fanfare, no warning, no chances to beg. And then he did it again, and again, and again. Until he lost count, until the body of his former master was mutilated, his chest nothing but unrecognizable gore.

He wasn't quite sure when he started crying again. He only realized it when he could barely breath through his own screams, every bit of rage, hurt, and humiliation that had been beaten into him coming straight to the surface. He sunk to his knees as he sobbed, tossing the knife to the side.

The whirlwind inside of him was too much, so overwhelming that he was afraid he'd be lost to it. But then he could feel it, you wrapping your arms around him, kneeling next to him as he broke down.

He clung to you, burying his face into your neck as he cried, desperate for your comfort, your touch. You were crying too he realized, your voice breaking as you gently spoke to him, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have been there to protect you. I love you, you did the right thing. I'm sorry."

You had nothing to apologize for, but that didn't stop your words from acting like a soothing balm to all of his internal wounds. But he would get through this. Because for the first time Astarion knew, without a shadow of a doubt he wouldn't have to get through it alone. With you by his side, he would never be alone again.

He wasn't sure how long you both spent there, kneeling in a pool of his tormentors blood. But he knew he felt different when he pulled away, changed.

Free.

He cupped your face, wiping away your tears while only managing to smear the mess about. But it didn't matter that you were both covered in blood and viscera, not when he had you.

"I love you too," Astarion whispered, finally allowing himself to unload the burden of hiding away from you. No more of that. He was yours, fully and completely, "I love you so much. I-I thought that this was it. That I'd never see you again. That you betrayed me-"

"Never," You interrupted, your voice fierce despite how it was breaking, "I never will. You're all I want, all I need. I should have been there, I'm so sorry-"

"No more apologies," Astarion murmered, pressing a quick kiss to your bloody mouth, "No more. We're here. That's all that matters."

You nodded, kissing him again, so sweet despite everything that should have made it sour. Despite his own words, Astarion couldn't help the white hot shame that passed through him. How could he have doubted you, even for a moment? Doubted this, the most beautiful that ever happened to him. Never again would he question what you had together, to let his mind be poisoned by others.

But there would be more time for the two of you later. The rest of your lives if he had anything to say about it. But for now...you freed him. And it was his turn to do the same.

Astarion pulled back, sighing as he looked around the room at his brethren. They were still hanging in the air, all privy to quite the show. He freed them, forgave them even, despite every horrid thing they'd done to eachother over the years.

But that didn't stop him from clocking Petras squarely in the face the second his feet touched the floor. The other man took it well enough, fully knowing that Astarion was capable of much, much worse. Though he was well aware that Petras had been compelled to kidnap him, it didn't change the fact that the punch was very satisfying.

As for the rest of the spawn, the thousands trapped here, he let them go as well. Down to the Underdark, where they could at least have a chance of controlling their feral nature before associating with mortals again.

Then it was time to leave this wretched place, forever. He would never be hurt here again, never controlled. He was free, finally. And with you by his side, what else could he ever ask for?

#astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 cazador #hes such a piece of shit #but I feel like this is something he would totally do #happy ending #but god damn that was rough #angst #a lot of angst #its there #front and center #long fic #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #im feeling spawn astarion man #i started this side blog for the ascended version but...#spawn is bae #female tav

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