Holidays Durgestarion: Sleep in Heavenly Peace š
Iāve been a bit absent as the year unexpectedly rushed toward its end. Somehow, this holiday season doesnāt feel overtly festive, if Iām being honest. I wonder if others feel the same.
It may not be so much about a holiday theme, but this felt like it captured my mood better than anything else. Astarion and Maze (Durge), like the rest of the companions, must have endured many sleepless nights during their journey. Perhaps on some days, they had to borrow the power of a Potion of Angelic Slumber just to find rest.
Whatever youāre carrying right now, I hope it can sleep as peacefully as this as the year comes to a close.
The year 2026 is said to be a burning year. It sounds intimidating, but fire also brings clarity. I hope it brings courage as well as the strength to face whatās been hidden, for the better.
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Danse Macabre
You Are Not Alone In This
Size: 135 x 135 mm (5.3 x 5.3 in)
The red accent design will be selectively highlighted with red foil ā¤
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Order form š https://forms.gle/VhLVxNCEvNddME476
Design options:
Danse Macabre
You Are Not Alone In This
Size: 135 x 135 mm (5.3 x 5.3 in)
Red foil accents ā¤
Printed on recycled paper made from sugarcane residue, a byproduct of sugar production.āØ* Please note that the natural texture of recycled material will be visible on the postcards!
The last clip ćSurfaceć was about the moment they confessed to each other. This one goes further back in the timeline, to the night they first crossed that threshold.
I thought it would feel different if you already knew how they eventually opened up to one another.
Check out this compilation post for the clips in story order. š
šUnlock pp. 15-24 (10 pages) HERE š
Or censored version on my Twitter.
Check out the full content HERE š
Or censored version on my Twitter.
I wanted to imagine what Astarion truly meant when he said āof course they (the nights) did (mean something),ā in game. Not just because it was with MC, but something deeper. I believe that could be tied closely to the sense of autonomy, so I added a little hc about his enchanted fangs and the effect of feeding on blood of the kind he had never been allowed to taste before.
If you look back at ćSurfaceć after reading this, youāll see how the thread connects.
Iām going to step further back in the timeline for the next short clip, back again to their very first meeting, which is hinted at here.
The labyrinth of chronicles keeps expanding and winding further ;) Iāll keep bringing the story along. Thank you to everyone whoās been waiting!
In my original story, Astarion and Maze (Durge) went after Orin first. Astarion witnessed Durgeās redemptionāand by his own will, chose to walk away from ascension.
Originally, I wasnāt too interested in crafting a narrative for Ascended Astarion. Not that I was against it. It just felt like the game already said all it needed to.
But while working on this spin-off, I found myself wondering:āØWhat if they confronted Cazador firstāand Durge, still unsure of her own path, let him ascend?
Hereās my what-if headcanon for A!Astarion X failed fem!Durge ā¤µļø
šCW: forced vampiric change, dub!con sexual act
The night after the ascension, Astarion demands what he does of any partner: for Durge to become his vampire bride, his dark consort.
Durge, who insta regretted it the very second she helped him ascend, hesitates and refuses at first. Theyāmostly Durgeāargue. But Astarion, ever patient, knows itās only a matter of time before she stops running from the fate thatās already unfolding. So, for now, he agrees to ātalk later.ā
Not long after, they enter the temple of Bhaal. Durge, already shaken by the fallout, is not herself. She falters and loses the duel against Orin. The party rushes in and defeats Orin, but it's too late. Durge is barely alive. They carry her broken body back to the tavern.
Astarion insists on tending to her himself. He tells the others to leave them in a private room. At first itās a request, then, a threat.
They step back. Not because they canāt fight him. After all, he also was once their dear companion. And whatever he is now, they still want to save Durge. Their precious leader, their friend. And maybe heās her only chance.
(Should imagine her condition is somehow beyond resurrection magic, healing spells. Even Withers is reluctant, for he knows what she will become even if she survives this.)
The others withdraw. Only the two of them remain, in a quiet bedroom with a small tub. Her breath is faint, pulse flickers. But Astarion knows sheāll last long enough. Just enough for what must happen tonight.
He undresses her carefully, reverently, peeling away the blood-soaked, torn fabric. He cradles her like something sacred, laying her gently in the tub. The bathwater steams, turning faintly pink as her blood touches the surface. Then, he steps in after her, undressed and silent.
He has waited for this moment. Cruel as it is, it had to be this way. Until there was nothing left in her mind but to surrender her body to him.
He cleans every wound, washes her hair, tends to her skin. He kisses and licks the blood from her still-open cuts.
He has her sit on his lap in the water. One hand behind her neck, supporting her back. The other trails along her collarbone with reverent slowness.
His lips follow the path of his fingers, ghosting over the bruises blooming on her shoulder, the cuts along her neck. Every wound is worshipped. Every scar kissed open.
He inhales deeply into the curve of her neck. The scent of her blood fills the bath, the air, his lungs. And as the delirium overwhelms them bothāhis or hers, he no longer caresāhe bites down.
Her blood courses through his veins. Invigorated, aroused, he grinds upward into Durgeās hip on his lap. Pauses. Again. And again. Gulping ravenously, he holds her neck and cradles her limp torso firm. He can already feel Durgeās now-undead body begin to regenerate.
One more grind, and when he feels her fingers tighten around his thighs, matching his movement, he grips himself and aligns the tip to her entrance.
Another stream of blood trails down his throat, and with it, he thrusts himself inside. A low groan escapes from his lips sealed around her neck, then he bites down harder.
He is full of her now, inside and out. And she, of him.
Her jaw clenches, desperate. Astarion offers his forearm, allowing her to bite. One droplet of his blood is enough.
The water splashes, rougher and rougher, then gradually softens, soothed by the stillness settling in.
She has no strengthāor willāleft to resist. No choices left at all.
And that night, Durge becomes his. His mad love, forevermore.
ā¼ļøCW: restraint, dub!con, physical abuse, non-canon character interpretation (OOC), dark what-if fic
Disclamer: The full story explores a version of fem!Dark Urge who failed to resist her urges (defeated by Orin), and A!Astarion who felt he had to contain the threat that was once his lover now driven mad, resulting in a disturbing, cruel dynamic.
The teaser images here have explicit nudity covered, but depict restraint and implied sexual tension.
PLEASE READ MORE ONLY IF YOU HAVE READ AND UNDERSTOOD THE DISCLAIMER ABOVE. Thank you.
Uncensored full pages are on my p8reon!
Or you can read full content with covered images on twitter (X)
I think we all feel the sameāafter the duel with Orin, where Durge died (!) and was brought back to life, I felt like there was always something missing in the aftermath, especially with the companions, and particularly with Astarion after becoming their partner.
So, this is my take on it. To amp up the drama, I added some settings. I thought it made sense to put Astarion in a situation where he had no choice but to watch their duel while bound, a spell like 'hold person' for example. Making him unable to shout, unable to moveācompletely powerless.
Iād love to hear your thoughts too.
The moment the words left Orinās lips, the magic that had been tightening his movements surged forth, all too familiarālike iron chains woven from Cazadorās shadow. It wrapped around Astarion and the others, holding them fast and completely robbing them of the ability to move.
It was followed by a storm of ice and blood, erupting in an instant. This wasnāt just a battle between two Bhaalspawn; in Astarionās eyes, it was a clash between a Slayer and the one person in the world he could not bear to lose.
His voice was trapped in his throat, his scream echoing only in his mind as he called her name. Her blood bloomed like dark petals on the stone floor, staining the ground with every brutal exchange. Bound and helpless, he could only watch, rage and despair tearing through him with every second. He cursed everything he could think of: the gods, fate, the magic that bound him, even himself.
When Orin finally fell, it should have been a moment of relief. But his body remained restrained, still held by the cruel enchantment. Then the giant mark of Bhaal, carved into the temple wall, began to glow a deep crimson. A suffocating silence fell over the chamber as all of them felt itāa presence descending, undeniable and all-consuming.
Astarion could feel his body trembling violently, though he still couldnāt move. It wasnāt fear for himself but an unrelenting terror for her.
Bhaal demanded that Maze reclaim his giftāthat she take back her rightful place as his chosen.
Maze stood tall, defiant, meeting the godās demand without hesitation. Her rejection was clear, unwavering.
In that instantā
A terror beyond mortal comprehension flooded the temple. The evil godās wrath burned like a crimson storm, his anger piercing through their very souls. The light surged and condensed into a single point, focusing on Maze, and thenā
She collapsed.
Astarion felt as though he had split in two, from his skull to his very core.
NO.
No, no, no.Ā He refused to accept what he was seeingārefused her life fading, refused her pulse stilling like a star flickering before extinguishing in the night sky. Every fiber of his being rebelled against the reality unfolding before him. The sound of her body hitting the floor was the last thing he heard before silence consumed everything.
In the deadly quiet, his mind fragmented, untethered from his body, flailing between denial and madness. His vision blurred, tears streaking down his face, but no sound escaped his lips. His breathing was ragged and erratic as he struggled to force out a voice that refused to come, his efforts thwarted again and again. The scream within clawed at his throat, tearing apart the fragile pieces of himself Maze had so painstakingly mended.
He was so consumed by his grief and fury that he didnāt notice the withered figure appearing in the temple. It wasnāt until Withersā voice cut through the maelstrom of his thoughts that the world began to take shape again. The ancient figure murmured something about cosmology or her fate or power he holds, words Astarion could barely process. As Withers began his incantations, reality seemed to warp, snapping back into place as the oppressive magic holding Astarion began to wane.
He felt his limbs loosen, the crushing bonds finally giving way. At the same time, Mazeās chest rose with a shuddering breath.
Astarionās legs gave out beneath him as the weight of everything overwhelmed him. He collapsed to his knees, trembling as he crawled toward her, every movement agonizingly slow. The lingering magic still pressed down on him, but he didnāt care. He had to reach her.
Finally, painfully, he reached her side and pulled her into his arms. His heart broke anew as he held her, his whole body shaking from the effort. Her eyes fluttered open, and Astarionās breath hitched.
Her eyes, once crimson with the taint of dark urge, had transformed. Now, her irises shimmered with a brilliant, iridescent opalescence, like a fragile yet radiant star. Even amidst the fear that still hadnāt fully faded, they were beautiful beyond words.
Her gaze met his, offering reassurance. Tears continued to stream down his face as he held her close, his arms trembling. For a long while, he could only cling to her, his tears mingling with the blood staining her skin. When his voice finally cracked, no words cameānothing could capture the storm of emotions tearing through him. He shook with the force of them, unable to contain the anguish that poured out of him.
Maze weakly lifted a hand, resting it against his back. She didnāt need to speak. Her warmth, her breathāthose were enough.
For a long moment, the only sound in the temple was Astarionās broken sobs, loud, anguished cries wracking his body. His shoulders heaved with each breath as the weight of everything came crashing down.
Still barely conscious, Maze held him close, gently stroking his back. In that moment, the world outside the temple ceased to exist.
Withers, the enigmatic being who always spoke of something like fate and order, had never meant much to Astarionāhe had always dismissed such talk as meaningless ramblings. But here, in this very moment, as Withers appeared once moreāinvoking the name of fate and setting everything back in its rightful placeāit was slowly becoming clearer to Astarion:Ā what we truly need to protect ourselves, what it means to be saved...
This is so perfect. Your loved ones scream every time you go down in a regular fight and they may have just watched Orin permadeath someone!!
Thereās no reason to believe Durge will come back from this incredibly terrifying way to die!
And no one says anything? I canāt believe that the huggier members of the group arenāt all trying to get to them, never mind your LI!!
I wish weād had a cut scene or something because the smash cut from my Durge waking up to her LI Wyll (wearing the wave motherās robe I might add) going āyouāve finally defeated your urge!ā was insane whiplash.
Glad you liked it!! And YES omg, that whole moment deserved so much more. The way everyone just stood there?? Like??? Durge literally died terrifyingly and no one even flinched. It broke me a little tbh.
(Also I find the wave motherās robe being the uniform of collective emotional devastation to be Iconic lol)
Durgestarion comic clip ćSurfaceć Part ā” (Finale)
Part ā
Part ā” (First half)
Full Content
Check out the full version HERE š
Or slightly less censored version on my Twitter.
Thank you so much to everyone who's read through all of this!
This was my first real attempt at combining storytelling with an intimate scene, and it became one of the most challenging and meaningful parts of this project to draw.
Iām so glad I could finally share it.
