iamjucie - Tumblr blog

[iamjucie]

I feel… happy!

[iamjucie]

are we still getting the alt pet happy ending🥺 tav deserves it

i started to write it but my heart wasn’t in it. i will meditate on it more and try to see into fruition ♥️

[iamjucie]

i am so back. i took a little break between the last chapter of AHIL and this one and it was soooo needed. my voice is back! its darker and sadder than ever babes :)

[iamjucie]

sorry there’s no update to A History in Lessons yet, but here is my Astarion cosplay!!!!

[iamjucie]

A History in Lessons

Chapter 8: "Your Most Prized Spawn" pt. 6

“A-Astarion!” You run up to him and he stares at you. Shock is visible on his face, his eyes scanning you up and down and his mouth agape.

He stands up from his seat, force pushing the chair he was sitting in backward. “Tav, what in the hells happened to you?!”

Words don’t seem to want to leave your throat, you only choke on them. The tightness in your chest is so profound you can only cry. You scream and sob, babbling nonsense. Fuchsia walks up next to Zarovich, she must have followed you through the crowd.

You frantically find Astarion to tell him what happened, but you can't seem to get the words out. You can't seem to think straight at all.

If you skipped the previous chapter here is context that will be needed: +Tav was assaulted sexually and physically by the vampire lord that was compelling her +He fed from her and when he finished, he was able to see a faint image of himself in the mirror, because of the nature of Tav's blood. +The chapter ended when she fell unconscious due to blood loss.

CW: Detailed description of a panic attack, Domestic Abuse, Mind Control, Unwanted compulsion Word Count: 1.6k AO3 Link

photo credit: @astarionposting

You’re still unable to move. Mind clouded and vision blotched with black spots, darkness slowly fills your eyesight. You stare at the mirror that was just so profound for the monster. You close your eyes, succumbing to the heaviness of your eyelids. You feel nothing.

-----

“Vincere est vivere!”

Your eyes open and your lungs fill with a gasp. The blood in your veins regenerates unnaturally fast, filling you with a newfound vigor. You shoot up and  scurry off the bed. On the opposing edge of the mattress, a figure stands hovering. You take a defensive position, your vision not fully adjusted to your newfound consciousness. 

You stand panting frantically, fists raised ready to fight the monster that attacked you. Only when your focus increases, you see Fuchsia holding a spell book in one hand and a healing potion in the other. 

Suddenly you realize you are safe and a wave of relief washes over you. You collapse onto the bed and sob, trying to comprehend what just happened. Fuchsia walks over to where you lay, leans down and rubs your back in an attempt to console you. You sit up and look into her eyes, tears cascading your cheeks. You crash yourself into her, sobbing into her shoulder. She wraps her arms around you.

“You poor child…” Fuchsia mumbles quietly into your hair. 

It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. You’re no longer being compelled and yet you still feel so absent from your body. You feel so cold and despite being in the arms of Fuchsia, you feel so alone.

You pull back from the embrace and stare absently at the ground, sniffling.

“I need to find Astarion. I-” You frantically gather your shoes from the ground and turn to leave the bedroom. “We need to go home.” 

“Tav, wait.” Fuchsia follows you cautiously. “Let me help you… clean up first.”

You catch a glance of yourself in the vanity mirror. You’re covered in bruises, blood, saliva, and tears. Your hair is half undone from the updo it once held, knotted and matted from your struggle. 

You shake your head subtly. “No…” you whisper, looking yourself in the eyes before turning to leave. “No, he needs to see.”

You crash yourself through the door. As you stumble through the hall, the crying starts again. Gasps and sobs leave your mouth as you pick up speed. Your chest is tight and your vision is warping. Is it the blood loss? Adrenaline? Remnants of that cursed wine in your body?

You don’t care. You just need to find him and get the fuck out of here.

You push yourself through the middle of the ballroom. “Astarion?!” you scream between sobs. Pushing vampire lords with weak shoves from the arm holding your shoes to get through. 

“Astarion?!” You look around, the room is spinning. Your vision is glazed over. You scan the faces of the crowd. You sense they’re all staring at you with disgust, yet you can’t see them. You can only see through the tunnel forming in your vision as the room seems to cave in around you. 

You spin and catch a glance of him. He’s sitting at the far right end of the head table talking to Zarovich and other noble looking vampire lords.

“Astarion!” You sprint clumsily towards him. He is sitting casually with his legs crossed. One hand holding a goblet of the same style you drank from earlier and the other gesturing enthusiastically as he talks to the group of vampire lords surrounding him. They’re all so enamored by his charm.

“A-Astarion!” You run up to him and he stares at you. Shock is visible on his face, his eyes scanning you up and down and his mouth agape.

He stands up from his seat, force pushing the chair he was sitting in backward. “Tav, what in the hells happened to you?!”

Words don’t seem to want to leave your throat, you only choke on them. The tightness in your chest is so profound you can only cry. You scream and sob, babbling nonsense. Fuchsia walks up next to Zarovich, she must have followed you through the crowd. 

You turn and survey the crowd of people in Astarion’s audience. You see several vampire lords, two ladies, Zarovich, and him. That monster that did this to you. He stares at you with raised eyebrows, feigning ignorance. Acting as if he knows nothing of what happened to you. He leans to the man next to him and whispers some snide comment while looking you up and down.

You feel utterly ill. The room is spinning, and you can’t seem to breathe properly. Inhaling and exhaling at a rapid pace, you turn to Astarion still looking at you. He’s clearly trying to talk but your mind is so filled with panic that you can barely comprehend it.

You are just staring at him, hoping he can understand what you need. You need to get out of here.

Zarovich leaves his seat at the opposing head of the table and saunters over to casually stand next to Astarion. He places a hand on his shoulder and leans in to stare at you, like you are a specimen to study. A situation to be handled. You find yourself focusing on his words. 

“Lord Astarion, what ever will you do to handle this?” he gestures to you before turning to face Astarion. “You will handle it, won’t you? I mean, you are it’s master after all.” he leans into Astarion’s ear as if to share a secret, yet does not whisper quietly “Unless, it only calls you that in the bedroom.”

A shiver grows up your spine and you turn to Fuchsia who is standing arms length from Zarovich. She has her arms crossed at her chest and she bows her head down, avoiding eye contact with you. You can’t believe this… It was all a ruse. She was only fishing for dirt on Astarion for Zarovich the entire time. This woman who just held you and comforted you after being assaulted was a fucking spy. Your hyperventilating increases speed. 

Astarion whips his head back toward your hysterics. His face is void of color and he has a look on his face that you can’t quite interpret. Embarrassment? Anger? Pity? Whatever it is, he is feeling it toward you. 

You want to grab his hand and drag him to the carriage and get the hells out of this place, but your panic renders you useless. You sit on the ground and grab your hair in your fists. You’re so overwhelmed. Astarion’s face relaxes slightly and he flinches forward, like he instinctively wants to comfort you until glancing at Zarovich. You don’t see what Zarovich’s face does in response, but you know it gave a message to Astarion to stop because he only straightened his posture and squatted down in front of you.

He grabs your face covered in mucus and tears. Although he’s not doing anything particularly kind or romantic, his touch gives you a semblance of comfort. You melt into his hands, stifling sobs leaving your mouth. If only he would just pull you into an embrace and tell you it’s going to be okay, maybe this would stop. He moves his head to enter your view, establishing contact with your frantic eyes. You lock onto him. Your eyes plead to him to give you any semblance of comfort.

His eyes glow as his compulsion fills you.  

“Stand up, stop crying.” he commands quietly while looking into your eyes. 

What is this? That’s not what’s supposed to happen. Your legs straighten and you rise from the floor. Your sobs and hyperventilating come to a sudden halt. This isn’t what he was supposed to do. You still need to cry, the feeling burns in your chest and it needs to come out but it won’t. It can’t

“Astarion…” you whimper, pleading. 

He glances slightly around at the audience that cultivated around you, all staring at him judgmentally, expectantly. 

“Do not speak.” his nose turns up slightly, displaying a false sense of confidence. You know it's not real. Looking into his eyes they scream only weakness. He looks so pathetic putting on this act.

You hear his voice in your head, ringing like a thought. 

I’m sorry, we are going to leave now.

You could respond telepathically, but don’t. There's nothing to say to him. When he looks into your eyes, you can almost recognize him. But, as soon as he turns away, it’s like his face changes shape and you do not see your lover. You see only a stranger. A stranger who has complete control over you. 

You stand still, unable to move if you wanted to. Unable to speak if you wanted to. Any autonomy over your body has been stripped from you.

He clasps his hands together and faces Zarovich. “Well, it has been lovely. Truly a great party, but I must be seeing myself out.” His puppeteering of your body guides your feet to start to walk to the exit next to him. The feeling of moving without moving is disorienting. You feel like screaming.

“What? Leaving already? Surely you aren’t letting an unruly spawn ruin your entire evening.” Zarovich laughs. “Pity, we didn’t have time for our toast.” Zarovich’s voice is quieter, trying to emulate speaking under his breath, but still loud enough to be heard.

Astarion turns from the exit to face him. “A toast? For whom?”

“For you of course! The very first Vampire Ascendant.” He proclaims, voice projecting through the hall. There’s still a silence lingering in the crowd from the scene that just played out. There are some hums of approval amongst them, you cannot see them however. Astarion still has you facing the exit. 

Suddenly your heels turn, you are facing Astarion and Zarovich. Astarion looks from you back to Zarovich. 

“I suppose one more drink couldn’t hurt.”

To be continue...

[iamjucie]

A History in Lessons

Chapter 7: "Your Most Prized Spawn" pt. 5

HEY! THIS IS GOING TO BE MESSED UP! ****I know I have the Dead Dove tag on all of these stories, but I really mean it this time. In this, there is descriptions of sexual and physical assault that can definitely be triggering.

If you are uncomfortable reading that but want to continue to read the story, you can with no issues. Just move onto the next chapter, I will be posting it directly after posting this one as its already written. I will put whatever context is needed in the beginning notes there.

special thanks to Helmi (@itsthatpearl on tumblr) and Mert (@mertesque on twitter) for beta reading. And an extra special thanks to Mert for helping me brainstorm, I couldn't have done it without him.

Also, lore note: I'm not sure if it is lore accurate that a Vampire Spawn can be drank from by a Vampire lord, but we are pretending they can. Ok? Cool.

The glow in his eyes dims ever so slightly.

Suddenly, you are back in your body. You aren’t even sure where you were a moment ago. You were here, but elsewhere. Your mind was… different. You wanted to be here, you know that much. But where is here? Who is this man? You’re so disoriented, you take a minute to recollect yourself. A moan is drawn from your lips.

You and the vampire lord find somewhere to be alone.

CW: Depictions of assault, Dead Dove, Mind Control Word count: 1.2k AO3 Link

“Let’s get out of here and find somewhere we can be alone.”

Warmness shoots from your ear to your core. Yes- you need this. You need him. Suddenly you have an appearingly insatiable desire for him. To be with him- no, to be his. All you can manage is a faint nod, words don’t seem to be able to form in your mouth no matter how hard you try. You must be so flustered that you’re speechless.

As soon as you give a semblance of agreement, he grabs your wrist and sweeps you away through the crowd. You’re struggling to keep up with his pace. He’s practically running, twisting your wrist uncomfortably as he pulls. It doesn’t seem to hurt, surprisingly.

He takes you into an empty hallway adjacent to the ballroom. Feral for you, he barges into the first door he sees without a knock or a care about what’s on the other side. You enter the room behind him with a yank from his grip on your arm. It's a bedroom. Your eyes gravitate to a vanity similar to the one Astarion said he loved so much.

Astarion… 

The vampire lord scoops you up bridal style, drawing a giggle from your lips. You kick off your elegant slippers before he tosses you onto the bed. Glowing eyes stare through you as he climbs on top of you, grinding his length into your leg through your dress. Your mind is filled with an unbearable lust that cannot be contained. 

You paw at the bulge in his pants, displaying your desperation for him to be inside you. You want it so badly. No- you’re beyond want, you need him. Your pussy is pulsing and your head is spinning with unbearable lust. He bunches up your dress to expose your folds to the elements. You’re completely bare, wearing no underwear. He inhales deeply through his nostrils. 

A scowl spans across his face. “Someone has already been here, hm? Pity.” a sigh leaves his lips, disappointment in his tone. “I wanted to fuck you myself, but I suppose I can make this work.” he says, staring longingly at your aching pussy. He looks into your eyes and says, “Fuck yourself. And make it good.”

With no thought behind it, your hand moves from his bulge to your cunt. You tease your entrance before sticking two fingers into yourself, massaging your inner walls slowly and sensually. You take your other hand and massage your clit simultaneously. Your head rolls back with a smile spread across your face. It feels so fucking good. Never have you felt such a pleasurable experience masturbating before this. It feels like golden waves of pure ecstasy are washing over you after every slight movement of your fingers. 

“Very nice, love.” He says, hovering above you watching your every movement, watching for the cues indicating you’re close. Your breaths and movements begin to lose any semblance of rhythm. “Now, I’m going to do something. I want you to brace yourself, okay?”

You nod. His words sound like music to you, the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard. You look into his eyes, he is so beautiful. 

The glow in his eyes dims ever so slightly. 

Suddenly, you are back in your body. You aren’t even sure where you were a moment ago. You were here, but elsewhere. Your mind was… different. You wanted to be here, you know that much. But where is here? Who is this man? You’re so disoriented, you take a minute to recollect yourself. A moan is drawn from your lips.

You look at the strange man on top of you and then down to your hands. You’re fucking yourself with a passion that you don’t have, with no input from your brain. Your hands are moving completely on their own. You look back up at the man, horror in your eyes. You scream at the top of your lungs.

“Who the fuck are you?!” You begin to thrash, he quickly puts a hand on your shoulder, pushing his entire weight onto it. You continue your attempt to escape. Thrashing, riving, doing anything to try to get him off of you. His grip doesn’t loosen. He only presses into you harder to punish your lack of submission, eventually dislocating your shoulder. You let out a blood curdling scream from the pain. 

“Why am I here?! What are you doing with my hands?!” Your fingers enter and exit your pussy over and over with vigor while you attempt to wriggle away from the cage he’s made with his body.

A predatory grin grows wide as he bares his fangs at you, “Thatta girl.” he hisses. He grabs your aching shoulder with one hand and your throat with the other, his bruising grip digging into your air pipe. 

You manage to let out a measly “Please don’t…” before he dives into you. He bites your neck with the strength of a beast. A gasp is drawn from your lips that shortly envelops itself into a struggling scream. He drinks from you with an animalistic force and speed, unlike any of the feeding sessions you’ve shared with Astarion.

Your body reacts to you fucking yourself, finally going over the edge. An unfortunate, yet beautiful feeling of euphoria washes over you while this monster is still latched to your throat. Your hands finally are unoccupied, but so much of your blood has already been drained that any attempt to hit or push him falls limp. Your arms drop to your sides, they are so heavy.

Slowly your struggle stops and your body is rendered null as the coldness of blood loss washes over you. Your screams turned into words, words became whimpers, and eventually the whimpers stopped. Your head rolls to the side. Your vision is beginning to be spotty as your eyelashes flutter, fighting to stay open.

He unlatches from your neck with a satisfied sigh. He gets off the bed and straightens his suit. He leans into your view, you’re lying motionless with your eyes still open slightly. “Sorry about dropping the whole compulsion thing. Fear just tastes so… delectable. I’m sure you understand.”

He turns to the vanity in the room. In the mirror is a slight reflection; a mostly transparent image of the monster appears. He takes a double glance at the looking glass before running up to it, placing a hand on the reflection. He stares in awe at the slight preview of himself. 

“Six hundred years…” he stares at himself in the eyes. “Six hundred years since I’ve seen that face. Not in a painting or a drawing. In the flesh.” He continues to stare at himself, barely blinking for several minutes as the reflection slowly fades; most likely due to your ascended blood being digested and recycled inside himself. 

He turns away from the mirror. “You…” he starts as he approaches where you lie. He kneels down next to the bed, inserting himself into your view. He places a hand on your cold cheek and leans his head into the crook of your neck, languidly licking the wound he created. Drinking up the last droplets of your blood. His hand is slightly warmed from the heat he stole from you. “Th-thank you.” He continues staring at you for a moment before standing up and walking out of the room.

You’re still unable to move. Mind clouded and vision blotched with black spots, darkness slowly fills your eyesight. You stare at the mirror that was just so profound for the monster. You close your eyes, succumbing to the heaviness of your eyelids. You feel nothing.

Next part

[iamjucie]

A History in Lessons

Chapter 6: "Your Most Prized Spawn" pt. 4

“My my, isn’t this a lively conversation you two are having. Look at you.” he gestures widely to you and your counterpart. “Making yourselves at home, finding comfort in a seat not meant for you.” his smile disappears and he glances at the setting card at the peak of the formal spread on the table. He looks back at Fuchsia with raised eyebrows with his hand remaining firmly on your shoulder.

You continue to tell the story of Astarion's ascension before you are interrupted by a familiar, handsome, gentle, kind party guest.

AO3 Link Word count: 1.5k CW: Extremely dubious consent, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation

“Perfect.” You lean closer into her, preparing for the dramatic retelling of you and your lover’s origin. “Well, it started on a mindflayer ship.” Fuchsia raises her eyebrows curiously.

“Astarion and I were both kidnapped by this HUGE flying ship. When they captured us, they put these little tadpoles in our eyes and put us in these pods where we were meant to eventually turn into mind flayers.” Her face scrunches in confusion and her head tilts inquisitively in response. 

“You know what a mind flayer is, right? Those purple tentacle faced aliens that eat brains?”

Recollection sparks in her eyes. “Oh yes, I do remember reading about them.” she leans back into her seat, resuming her listening position. “Go on then.”

You lean forward with your elbows resting on your knees. Legs spread apart, ignoring any sort of etiquette you should be following whilst wearing a ball gown of such caliber. “So these dragons started whacking into the ship and knocked me out of my pod. Eventually I took control of the ship and crashed it into the wilderness.”

“Oh my…” She is listening intently. Appearing to have a genuine fascination with your story, despite it having seemingly nothing to do with her initial question.

“For some reason, I didn't die. So I started walking around the beach I crashed at and I found this Shar worshiper lady who had this floating artifact thing that I found out later was the reason we didn’t turn into mind flayers.” You pause for a moment, eyes down and eyebrows furrowed in recollection. “Actually, there was a mind flayer living INSIDE the artifact preventing us from becoming mind flayers.” you look up at her to explain. “Well, he wasn’t inside the box. Like he wasn’t an itty bitty tiny alien. The box ended up being a portal to the astral realm where the mind flayer lived with the prince.” you say matter of factly. 

“Hold on.” She closes her eyes and puts up her hand politely. “The prince?” 

You look up into the air, pondering the direction of your story. “Actually, don’t worry about the prince thing. Just-” you wave your hands around and shake your head, regaining control of the words coming from your mouth for a brief moment. “Sorry, I’m having trouble articulating my thoughts. That wine is so… strong. What kind of wine is tha-”

She cuts you off. “Oh it is perfectly fine, you are a fantastic storyteller. You were saying something about a girl? With an artifact?” 

You put your hand on your chin. Right, you were telling the story of how Astarion performed the ritual. Where were you? Oh- that’s right.

“So, the girl had this box that stopped us from turning into mind flayers from the worm they put in our heads. I start walking around when suddenly I find this guy who says he needs my help but ends up attacking me with a dagger! It was Astarion. Apparently he saw me on the ship and thought I was the one who kidnapped him.” 

You notice that the spawn’s gaze has shifted from maintaining eye contact with you to looking over your shoulder. Her eyes follow something- or, someone approaching you. You feel a large, cold hand slowly being placed on your shoulder. You turn and look up to see a vampire lord glancing down at you with his crimson eyes, smiling a toothy grin. It’s the same man that had been eyeing you when you had entered the ballroom with Astarion earlier.

“My my, isn’t this a lively conversation you two are having. Look at you.” he gestures widely to you and your counterpart. “Making yourselves at home, finding comfort in a seat not meant for you.” his smile disappears and he glances at the setting card at the peak of the formal spread on the table. He looks back at Fuchsia with raised eyebrows with his hand remaining firmly on your shoulder.

“My Lord, we are so sorry.” Your new friend scrambles out of the seat, straightening the place setting and pushing in the chair making it seem like she was never there. She is tense, shoulders raised close to her ears.

“Darling, it was only a jest.” he laughs heartily from his core. Fuschia’s scared appearance isn’t changed by the lighthearted response from him.  “You can sit there, I won’t tell.” he winks.

Her shoulders relax slightly as she cautiously begins to sit back in the seat. Maintaining eye contact with the man as if to wait for the punchline of the joke he is playing on her.

You have remained seated through the entire ordeal, his hand pressed on you signaling you to do so. He kneels down so that he is at eye level with you. “You, however. Will need to leave this place setting.” He wears a look of facetious pity, lips pursed and head slightly askew.

“Wh-what? Um, why?” you stammer nervously. He leans into your ear so close to you that if he were breathing, you would feel his breath on your skin.

“Because you are coming on the dance floor with me, of course.” he purrs. You look at him, his eyes glow slightly. “You do want to dance with me, do you not?” he pouts.

A feeling of giddiness rises from nowhere at the idea of it. Of course you want to dance with him. It would be such an honor. And he’s so, so terribly handsome. You really want to dance with him. So much so, you would surely cry or maybe even drop dead if you don’t.

You glance over to Fuschia. She has a concerned look on her face, her eyes seeming to plead with you to decline. You’re not sure why, though. Why wouldn’t you dance with this beautiful man? Maybe she’s jealous that he chose you to dance with instead of her. Yes… that must be it. You’re so lucky to have such an opportunity. 

He puts his hand out and you place your hand in it, standing up from your seat. You hold his hand as he guides you to the dance floor where others are spinning and dancing with flawless grace. You begin to get nervous realizing you don’t exactly remember how to dance properly. You learned so long ago, you fear you might embarrass yourself. 

As if your dance partner were inside your head, he turns to you and says “There’s no need to be nervous, love. Just relax and it will come back to you.” 

His words wash over your mind, soothing any anxiety you felt. He is so kind and handsome. An image of Astarion flits into your mind for a moment, imagining he was the one dancing with you. Holding your hand, being gentle and kind. 

Why couldn’t he be the one holding you with such a delicate touch? Wait… who is this man? Why are you going with him? You don’t know him, this could be dangerous. You better-

Suddenly your mind is blank. You were thinking of something… what was it? You look up at your dance partner. He is smiling at you. He is so gentle and kind. That’s right! You were thinking about how gentle and kind he is to you. 

He places one hand on the small of your back and the other in your hand holding it up, in position to begin dancing. You stutter in your movements for a moment. Where is your hand meant to go again?

Suddenly without your input, your unoccupied hand moves to his adjacent shoulder. He was right, it did come back to you.

You’re standing still in position before he gives you a knowing glance. Suddenly you are dancing away, like you have been ballroom dancing every night for the past ten years. Your feet are delicately moving across the dance floor, twirling and spinning without a thought behind it- as if your feet are moving on their own. Who knew you were such a good dancer? 

You dance to the lively music for several minutes, and you feel so happy. Whenever the vampire lord looks at you, you’re filled with the giddiness of a school girl with a crush. His gaze sends butterflies to your stomach and a giggle to your mouth. After a little while more of dancing he leans into your ear.

“Let’s get out of here and find somewhere we can be alone.”

Warmness shoots from your ear to your core. Yes- you need this. You need him. Suddenly you have an appearingly insatiable desire for him. To be with him- no, to be his. All you can manage is a faint nod, words don’t seem to be able to form in your mouth no matter how hard you try. You must be so flustered that you’re speechless.

Next part

[iamjucie]

every time i think maybe something is too fucked up to write, i think of my ao3 commenters and i know its ok.

[iamjucie]

A History in Lessons

Chapter 5: "Your Most Prized Spawn" pt. 3

You take a long sip from the cup. As soon as it touches your tongue, tingling warmness spreads through the roof of your mouth and spreads across your cheeks. It goes down very smoothly and has very strong notes of citrus, notably lemon... The warmness spreads further up your face, crawling behind your eyes and touching your mind. Your head reels for a moment and the room wavers slightly. Has it really been that long since you’ve drank?

Astarion is swept away by Count Zarovich, leaving you alone in a room of unwelcoming vampire lords. Leaving you alone to your thoughts. Alone, until a familiar face approaches you with a goblet of very, very strong wine.

AO3 link Word count: 1.6k Rating: Mature CW: Implied drugging

(thank you @itsthatpearl for beta reading as always <3 love u)

You begrudgingly take his hand and he helps you off the ground and you set off out the door to join the other lords and ladies of the night.

He drags you along, holding your hand limply behind him and dropping it as soon as you are within the eyesight of the elegant party goers. You stand on the outskirts of the crowd. Vampires chatting, dancing, and intermingling with one another; you look from the crowd to Astarion. You imagine him intertwined with the set of people before you and it doesn’t feel right. The Astarion you loved would be scoffing at this group, making fun of the way they all pretend to like each other, not desperate to have them like him. Not pushing you away for their approval.

You shake off your angst for the time being and look back to the dance floor. While scanning the crowd, you spot a tall lord standing at the opposite end of the ballroom. You do a double take, flinching slightly when you realize he is looking directly at you, now staring predatorily into your eyes between the crowd of people. Astarion doesn’t seem to notice. You maintain eye contact with the man, squinting slightly in an attempt to show him you have more fight to you than he may assume.

Astarion interrupts your staring contest. “Let’s find our proper place settings, shall we?”

You nod and look away from the man who continues staring at you like you're on the menu. Even after you’ve looked away, you can feel his eyes on you.

Not gaining more than two steps behind Astarion, you follow him as he politely greets the party goers with slight bows of his head. They respond to him with a bow and gentle smiles. The smile on their faces drop as soon as you attempt to do the same as your partner, however. Your polite greetings are met with a deadpan, borderline threatening stare from each of them. After the third or fourth failed attempt at being cordial, you give up and leave it to Astarion.

You continue to walk around the ballroom when suddenly Count Zarovich appears from thin air and clasps his hand on top of Astarion’s shoulder with a firm grip. The Count leans into his ear. “I saw you escape the party to admire the decor within the castle.” 

Astarion flinches and tenses up, his shoulders rise to his ears. He glances at you with eyes that scream, “We’re in trouble, get ready to run.” 

Astarion winds up to begin to apologize and grovel in an attempt to remain in the Count’s good graces. He is certainly the last person you want to be on the bad side of. Especially as a new Vampire Lord.

He leans away slightly, hand still remaining on Astarion’s shoulder and exclaims to both of your surprise “If you wanted a tour you only had to ask, my Ascended brother!” the Count begins to pull your partner away from you. “I will show you every inch of the castle! You’re doing renovations yourself, yes? Maybe the Ravenloft Castle can be of inspiration to you!” he continues talking at Astarion as he is pulled further away from you. Your partner turns over his shoulder to face you as the Count continues to talk his ear off. 

“Behave.” He mouths to you 

You scoff and roll your eyes slightly. As if there’s anything else to do. None of the attendants of this ball are anyone you care to be friendly with. You watch as Astarion and his tour guide disappear into a hallway adjacent to the ballroom. 

You remain outside the main pulse of the ball, watching the different lords and ladies enjoy their time. People watching was one of your favorite hobbies when you would to get out of the palace more often. 

You find that although all the attendees are very different in appearance, they all have mannerisms that remain the same between all of them. The way they walk, the way they move their heads and hands when conversing, it’s as if there was a class on how to behave when you become a vampire lord.

You suppose when you live for long enough, all habits and subconscious behaviors would begin to meld into one result. Is this your future? A copy paste vampire lady attending a ball, putting on a nice face to remain in the good graces of your immortal counterparts? Part of you says, “No, you’re different from the rest of them.” and another says “Yes. You are not the exception.”

Your partial spiral is interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. It startles you. You hadn’t expected anyone here to interact with you, so you had allowed yourself to get fully lost in thought. You turn to see the woman you had seen at the entrance standing next to the Count when he greeted you. Well, when he greeted Astarion. She’s his spawn.

She holds a goblet out to you. “Do you drink?” You look from her eyes (that appear much more full of life than the first interaction you had with her) to inside the goblet. Thick purple liquid sloshes inside as she pushes it closer to you. You look at her, a friendly gentle smile spread across her lips. “I’m Fuchsia. Count Zarovich’s favored spawn.”

Well, if you’re going to enjoy talking to anyone in this place, it would most likely be another spawn. Looking around, it appears you two are the only spawns allotted by their counterparts to be in the center of the party. 

“Hells, why not.” you take the goblet with a smile. “It’s been a minute since I’ve partaken, but it is a party after all. I’m Tav.” 

“Really? If I had the ability to drink alcohol without it tasting putrid, I’d be spending my time drunk as a sailor." She laughs lightly. "So, you do have the same abilities as the Vampire Ascendant as his spawn do you not?” She asks with a slight tilt to her head and the same lighthearted tone. 

You take a long sip from the cup. As soon as it touches your tongue, tingling warmness spreads through the roof of your mouth and spreads across your cheeks. It goes down very smoothly and has very strong notes of citrus, notably lemon. “Yes, I do. And because of that, I can tell you this wine is delicious.” The warmness spreads further up your face, crawling behind your eyes and touching your mind. Your head reels for a moment and the room wavers slightly. Has it really been that long since you’ve drank?

“I’m glad it’s to your standards.” She sits at an empty table setting and pats at the chair next to her indicating you to sit. You do. You take another sip from the goblet. “So, tell me about your master.” she asks. 

“Mm-” you finish your sip with a slight chuckle. You wipe the wine from the corner of your mouth. “Please, I only call him that in the bedroom.”

Your eyes open wide, and your lips purse. Did you just say that out loud? Why the fuck did you just say that out loud? You put a hand on your mouth in shock at your remark. The Count’s spawn only laughs.

“You’re so funny! No wonder he keeps you around.” 

“He better keep me around.” Gods- why can’t you stop talking?! You shouldn’t be sharing this. Not with a stranger. The way Astarion is acting he surely doesn’t want anyone to know that- “We are lovers.” Your words spill from your thoughts to your tongue. 

She stops laughing and her gaze becomes slightly serious for a moment. “Oh, you aren’t joking. Are you seriously treated as an equal by him? Calling him not by master, but by his name?”

“Yes, as well as other pet names like darling, babe, baby, daddy, etcetera.”

Your mind is clouding and your vision is slightly warping. You’re having trouble keeping any of your thoughts inside your head, they are pouring out like a waterfall. You can’t even think straight. As moments pass, you seem to care less and less about what you say. It must be really strong wine. 

Fuck it. Astarion left you to have fun on his own, why can’t you have some fun too? You take the last sip of wine from the cup.

“That’s fascinating.” the other spawn leans onto the table with both of her hands on her chin holding up her head. “What can you tell me about how your ma- sorry, how Astarion managed to become the Vampire Ascendant.” 

You lean into her closely and whisper loudly, “Truth be told, he couldn’t have done it without me.” You raise your eyebrows and bring the goblet to your lips to take another sip, forgetting you had already finished it.

Her face is shocked, but intrigued. “Oh? How so?”

You lean back into a sigh, crossing your arms at your stomach. “Well, how much time do you have?”

She looks around the ballroom, scanning for any signs of Astarion and Count Zarovich. “How long are they gone for?” she asks. 

“Hmm… twenty minutes maybe?”

“Oh.” she scoffs “We have plenty of time. They probably haven’t even reached the Master's garden yet.” she chuckles. 

“Perfect.” You lean closer into her, preparing for the dramatic retelling of you and your lover’s origin. “Well, it started on a mindflayer ship.” Fuchsia raises her eyebrows curiously.

Next part

[iamjucie]

a history in lessons in astarion's pov would go kinda hard... the ascension powers slowly corrupting his mind and outlook. warping his morals and perspective...

girl wtf are you on about, finish what you started- me to me

[iamjucie]

confirmed my astarion tattoo, and found out im meeting neil newbon in the same day. big day for this astarion enjoyer.

[iamjucie]

A History in Lessons

Chapter 4: "Your Most Prized Spawn" pt. 2

“What will these powerful vampire lords think of the great Vampire Ascendant when they find him fucking a measely spawn?” You manage through light moans of pleasure.

He takes his unoccupied hand and puts it around your throat, pinning you even closer to the door. He gazes at you threateningly through his lashes and starts to fingerfuck you harder. He’s pressing into the spot that he knows makes you melt. You’re close. “I think they would be extremely impressed with my ability to make you crumble under my touch alone.” he growls. “Now come.”

You and Astarion escape the ball for a quick... Excursion.

(This is porn for the sake of porn. No plot here, folks.)

Word count: 1.3k Rating: EXPLICIT!!! CW: Domestic Abuse

(ofc thank you @itsthatpearl for beta reading)

(photo cred: @littlelovelore)

“I thought being in a room full of envious vampire lords would be threatening.” He grinds his length against your hand. “Turns out, it’s utterly invigorating.”

You growl with lust as you resume your attack on each other’s mouths. Drinking him in like he’s fresh water in the middle of a desert, and your thirst for him is insatiable. 

His hand begins to bunch up your ball gown, making his way underneath. His fingers eventually reaching your heat, drenched with lust and the thrill of the potential publicity of it all. To Astarion’s surprise, you are wearing no undergarments. 

“You dirty thing.” he growls as he caresses your slick folds, back to front. “Wearing no panties to such a formal event, knowing I wouldn’t be able to resist you.” his hand lingers on the bundle of nerves at the peak of your cunt. “Am I really that predictable?”

He continues to gently massage your clit, drawing staggered moans and shivers from you. “I- I had my hopes.” He moves his fingers to begin to tease your entrance before inserting two fingers into you abruptly, making you groan with desire. “F-figured if it was going to happen it would need to be quick, so I thought why not remove a step?”

He grins devilishly as he continues to rub his fingers against the ribs inside your pussy. “You’re so smart. Such a good girl.”

You moan. His touch, his words, his lustful gaze on you; it’s so perfect. But being the brat you are, you can’t help but to tease.

“What will these powerful vampire lords think of the great Vampire Ascendant when they find him fucking a measely spawn?” You manage through light moans of pleasure.

He takes his unoccupied hand and puts it around your throat, pinning you even closer to the door. He gazes at you threateningly through his lashes and starts to fingerfuck you harder. He’s pressing into the spot that he knows makes you melt. You’re close.

“I think they would be extremely impressed with my ability to make you crumble under my touch alone.” he growls. “Now come.” 

A scream leaves your lips. You explode into your orgasm, your walls clenching around his long fingers as he continues to gently massage through each wave of pleasure. He leans into your ear and nibbles slightly and licks, breathing staggered breaths directly into it. Once the bliss begins to subside you begin to melt into the door, your knees falling weak.

“Now now, darling.” He tuts. “I still need to fuck that juicy cunt of yours. And we still have a ball to attend. I don’t know about you, but I think you would look positively ravishing with my come dripping down your legs.”

Any exhaustion you were feeling disappeared at his words. You’re ready for him. Gods, you need him. You say nothing but the look on your face is enough to display your enthusiasm.

He begins to undo the ties of his dress pants, pulling them down only enough that his throbbing cock is released. He lifts your leg up under his arm, granting him easy entry to your pulsing cunt. He rubs his cock over your folds once before quickly pushing himself into you, drawing his name from your lips. He continues to pump into you at a rapid pace. You scream and moan with pure delight. Your mind is so clouded with lust, you’ve forgotten where you are.

His hand unoccupied by holding your leg reaches to rub your clit as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. Your head rolls to the side, the feeling is too much. The noises escaping your mouth switch between screaming, whimpering, and moaning his name. Or at least, sounds that could be interpreted as his name.

Astarion leans into the crook of your neck and inhales deeply. His tongue drags from your shoulder to your jaw drawing a shiver down your body. He pauses for a moment, marinating you in anticipation before he opens his mouth and bites down. The icy sting travels from your neck and pools at your core, adding to the unbearable pressure of your oncoming orgasm. He sucks at the puncture wound as his thrusts into you become quicker and increasingly less consistent.

The walls around his cock become increasingly tighter as you approach your climax, and his cock twitches from both the increase of blood in his body and him too about to reach his peak.

He unlatches from your neck and lets out a lewd groan as he begins to spill inside you, your orgasm arriving not long after. You feel his cock spurting his seed into you as he continues to slowly and gently fuck you. He moves his hand from your clit to next to your head against the door, attempting to stabilize himself. He puts his head on your shoulder, panting.

You’re positively wrecked. Bruises are forming on your neck from both his rough handling of you and his snacking on you. Your makeup is smeared under your eyes, mascara tears decorating your cheeks. 

He drops your leg and your knees give out under the abrupt weight of you. You sink onto the ground, now sitting with your back against the door. 

Astarion turns from you and approaches an ornate vanity in the bedroom you’ve claimed as your own for the past few minutes. He begins to tie his pants, tuck in his undershirt, and smooth down his suit jacket. He walks up to the mirror and runs his hand along the edges of it. Wooden sculptures of leaves and flowers painted gold are framing the looking glass attached to the table covered with a variety of cosmetic products. 

“I really like this vanity.” Astarion says admiring the woodwork. He turns to face you. “What do you say we get a vanity like this for our chambers? I can just imagine you getting ready in front of it every morning.” 

“I don’t see why not.” you say, practically falling asleep. Still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. 

Astarion steps away from the vanity and walks up to where you’re sitting. He kneels in front of you pulling out a handkerchief from his inside coat pocket. He licks the corner of the cloth and begins to clean under your eyes where your makeup had been ruined with such a gentleness that it’s hard to imagine him fucking you as brutally as he just was. 

Once he finishes cleaning you up, he returns to the vanity that he admires and picks up a jar of toned paste the same color as your flesh and a powder puff. He walks to you approaching your level again and begins to apply the makeup to your neck, covering up any evidence of the time you shared.

“There.” He says, accomplishment coating his tone. “Good as new.”

Your eyes remain closed and a tired smile spreads across your face.

“Up now darling. As much as I would love to spend the night with you in this lovely bedroom, I fear we have an obligation to attend to.” he holds his hand out.

Fuck. You don’t want to go back out there. You can’t shake the bad feeling you’re getting around the audience of the ball. They don’t see you as a person and it’s clear from the way they look at you. 

But, this is important for Astarion. Just grin and bear it for a little longer, it will be fine. Just keep to yourself and nothing will go wrong.

You begrudgingly take his hand and he helps you off the ground and you set off out the door to join the other lords and ladies of the night.

Next chapter: "Your Most Prized Spawn" pt. 3

[iamjucie]

porn incoming!!!!

[iamjucie]

IM GOING TO MEET NEIL IM GOING TO THROW UP

[iamjucie]

A History in Lessons

Chapter 3: "Your Most Prized Spawn" pt.1

“Astarion, they’re using these people as accessories!” You plead. “Like handbags hanging off their arms!”

He puts two fingers on the bridge of his nose for a moment and sighs. “I know. Please- just, don’t antagonize. We all do things differently.”

“I don’t know. It feels wrong…” you mutter. He stops in his tracks and whips to be facing you, finger in your face. “Can’t you just swallow your morals for one Gods damned night?! Don’t fucking embarrass me.” he hisses.

Astarion receives an invitation to this decade's Forgotten Realm's Vampire Ball. "Please wear your finest attire and bring your most prized spawn." The invitation said.

It's not until you arrive at the vampiric castle hosting the ball that you remember that not all vampire lords are as kind to their spawn as Astarion is to you.

Word count: 2.5k CW: Domestic Abuse, Emotional Manipulation AO3 Link (thank you @itsthatpearl for beta reading and always motivating me to keep writing)

It was an average morning in the Crimson Palace. You are preparing a brew of coffee for you and Astarion while he sits in the den waiting for you. You leave the kitchen and enter the room with two steaming mugs smelling rich with java in your hands. You and Astarion are still in your nightwear. You like to have leisurely mornings. “No need to rush when you live forever.” he always says. You approach the couch where Astarion is wearing black magnifying spectacles and a maroon silk robe going through mail.

“Coffee, my darling?” you say as you sit next to him, placing his coffee on the middle table sprawled with various letters.

“Hm?” he looks up from the ornate letter in his hand to look at you for a moment before glancing at the mug. “Oh, yes dear. Thank you.” He looks back at the letter.

“That looks interesting…” you pick up the empty envelope laying next to him. It is decorated with ornate symbols and remnants of a wax seal decorated with a symbol of a bat and thorned branches framing it. “Would you mind sharing what it is?” You sip your coffee.

He picks up his mug. “Yes, of course.” He holds the letter out to you. “See for yourself.”

You take the letter from his hands gently. It reads:

“Dear Vampire Ascendant Lord Astarion Ancunín,

It is our utmost honor to cordially invite you to this decade’s Vampire Ball. We understand it will be your first time in attendance, so we shall explain the details of the event in further detail:

Once per decade, all vampire lords across the Forgotten Realms gather for a banquet full of festivities, feasts, and connections to others of our kind.

Your presence is greatly anticipated. Everyone is anxious to meet the first Vampire Ascendant.

Please wear your finest attire and bring your most prized spawn.

Sincerely, Count Strahd von Zarovich of Barovia”

Your mouth spreads wide in a grin, joy dripping from your face. You look at Astarion with glee.

“A ball?! That sounds amazing!” You exclaim.

“Mmhmm” He says through a languid sip of his coffee. He always treasures his first sip of the morning.

You reread the letter again to yourself. “‘Most prized spawn’... Does that mean I can come along too? As a plus one?”

Astarion dramatically glances around the den as a joke. “I don’t see a more favorable candidate around. Can you think of one?”

You laugh lightly and lean in for a kiss. This is so exciting.

You can’t wait to be in the presence of other vampire lords. You’ve walked around Baldur’s Gate hand in hand with your ascendant partner, but this is different. These people know what Astarion is capable of. They know his power, and they crave it for themselves. Potential allies. Potential threats. Powerful people. They will see the two of you as the most powerful couple in the world.

What are you going to wear?

---

The day of the ball has quickly come upon you. You had a beautiful dress tailored at the Facemaker’s boutique. It’s a ball gown made from crimson velvet with gold ties decorating the front and gold beading in ornate curves complimenting the curves of your body. You are putting gold ball earrings in your ears when Astarion enters the chambers.

“The carriage is here whenever you’re ready.” he says, looking you in the eye in the mirror. He is wearing a suit tailored too by the Facemaker designed to compliment the ball gown. The jacket is the same crimson velvet as the dress, with a cream colored silk ascot and gold ties crisscrossed at his sides in the same orientation as the front of your dress.

He is standing stiff and tense, barely making eye contact with you. You can sense his stress.

You tilt your head slightly after putting your second earring in. “What’s the matter my love?”

He sighs, kicking his ornate dress shoes into the ground slightly. “I don’t know exactly.” He looks at himself in the same full-length mirror you’re getting ready in and walks forward until he’s standing next to you. “I’m practically a toddler compared to these people. Yet, I am more powerful than they can ever dream of being.” he sighs. “There’s bound to be some resentment.”

You turn to him and place a hand on his cheek gently. “Yes, there is. But they should know better than to antagonize you. They should fear you.” You gaze at his beautiful face adoringly.

He leans away from your touch, continuing to maintain his gaze at himself in the mirror. “Yes, they should. Doesn’t mean they will.” he sighs.

You move in front of the mirror so he has to look at you. “It will be ok, my love. I’ll be by your side the whole time.”

He finally looks you in the eyes and melts into a gentle smile. “Yes, you will. That will certainly help.” He takes your hand and leads you out the door with a newfound chipperness. “Come on darling, we have quite the trip before us.”

---

The road to the Shadowfell is long and eerie, you can definitely understand why a Vampire Lord would reside here. The entire atmosphere screams macabre.

The carriage takes a sharp turn and begins up a mountain road. As your surroundings become darker and more foreign, they begin to startle you. You feel as though you’re in the middle of nowhere and start to feel uncomfortably vulnerable. You glance at Astarion with a concerned look in your eyes and he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

It will be ok.

Like magic, on one of the windy mountain turns a massive castle appears. Its massive dark peaks indicate its age, and who likely resides.

As the carriage gets closer to the bottom of the castle, you see a line of intricate carriages outside the entrance. There is a blood colored carpet draping over the stairs of the palace. You’re still too far away to see details, but you can see people, presumably vampire lords, strutting up the carpet akin to a fashion runway.

The carriage finally makes it across the floating bridge granting entry to the castle and you have two vehicles in front of you before you will be able to exit and walk up the stairs yourself.

You now can make out details of the attendees arriving before you. A woman dressed in a tight fit mermaid cut dress with a tall vampiric collar and an even taller updo exits the carriage. She is wearing blood red silk gloves and has one hand propped up, holding a long silver chain encrusted with gems alternating between diamonds and rubies, giving it a distinct red shine when the light of the full moon decorating the sky shines on it.

On the other end of the chain is an ornate choke collar around the neck of a beautiful woman. Her dirty blonde hair is pin straight and cut into a cropped bob. Her face is adorned with a blindfold of the same material as her master’s gloves covering her eyes. Her body wears no clothes, but is decorated with a bright red rope tied intricately and deliberately to accentuate her features. Braided at her waist, crossing at her stomach and only framing her asscheeks and tits, not covering them. She may as well be naked.

You stare, mouth slightly agape in horror. You look over to Astarion. His eyebrows are raised and his eyes are wide open. He is trying to maintain composure.

He quickly drops his shocked face to reassure you that there was nothing to worry about. He turns to face you. “Seems like you may be a little overdressed.” He quips, attempting to lighten the mood.

Your eyes shoot daggers at him. He glances away quickly. His attempt failed.

The next carriage approaches the unloading zone and your carriage pulls one space closer.

The next vampire lord exits his carriage. He is wearing an all black suit except for one silk ribbon tied around his collar and into a makeshift turtleneck, extenuating his long neck. He takes a step to the side to allow space for his spawn to descend from the cabin of the vehicle.

A young man steps down from the carriage, a thick red ribbon wrapped around his waist covering his genitalia and another wrapped around his chest. He stands with a blank stare, until his master points to the ground. He immediately kneels and begins to crawl, maintaining a six inch distance from his master’s feet. His gaze remains on the ground, yet he manages to stay next to his master with precision.

Their carriage pulls away and it’s time for you to depart the cabin and enter the ball. It pulls forward and the driver opens the door for the two of you to enter the castle. Your heart is in your throat. You don’t have a good feeling about this.

Astarion steps off the edge of the cabin and stands with his hands behind his back and his chest puffed out. You scoot over to the open door and stand at the opening for a beat waiting for him to give you a hand to help you get out of the carriage. He doesn’t.

You fumble out the door and the driver closes it behind you. You brush your hands over your dress, smoothing out evidence of your struggle. Astarion glances over his shoulder at you. Once he sees you’re out of the carriage, he faces forward and begins to walk atop the carpet. You lift up your dress and begin to walk about three steps behind him, scowling. You expect him to wait up a moment for you to walk next to him, or to give you his hand or arm to hold. He doesn’t.

After a long trek up the stairs of the palace, you and your lover approach the Count of the castle and who you can deduce to be his “favored spawn.” She is a young woman draped in heavy gold chains, wrapped around her to act as a makeshift cocktail dress. She wears a beautiful gold headdress that you instinctively want to compliment. As you’re standing in front of her, her gaze is unmoving and appears to be looking through you. You opt to stay silent instead.

Count Strahd von Zarovich greets Astarion with a bow and puts his hand out to accept Astarion’s. Astarion hesitates for a moment, but eventually holds his hand out to him, and the Count kisses it. The First Vampire, Count Strahd von Zarovich, just kissed his hand.

“Welcome, Ascended One, to the lovely Castle Ravenloft.” He gestures through the massive passageway of the castle the ball is taking place in.

“It’s magnificent. Thank you for the invitation, it is truly an honor.” Astarion says.

“Oh, I assure you the honor is all mine. Please, come in. The ballroom is just down the hall.” He gestures into the massive open metal door behind him. “And there is a coat room if you prefer not to have your spawn with you all night. It’s the door on the banquet hall’s right oblique.”

Astarion stutters in his movements and words for a moment. “Y-yes, of course. Thank you.”

He begins to walk inside the hall. You scurry next to him, leaning into his ear.

“A coat room?! Astarion, what in the hells is going on here?!” You whisper frantically.

He remains unfazed facing forward. “You must know that the relationship between a spawn and its master isn’t usually a kind one. You’ve heard the stories of Cazador.” He continues marching forward, sternly and emotionlessly. “We are an outlier.”

“Astarion, they’re using these people as accessories!” You plead. “Like handbags hanging off their arms!”

He puts two fingers on the bridge of his nose for a moment and sighs. “I know. Please- just, don’t antagonize. We all do things differently.”

“I don’t know. It feels wrong…” you mutter.

He stops in his tracks and whips to face you, finger in your face. “Can’t you just swallow your morals for one Gods damned night?! Don’t fucking embarrass me.” he hisses.

You shrink slightly. He turns forward, clears his throat, and continues down the hall. You’re frozen in place for a moment. He peers at you and jerks his head forward, telling you to move along. You walk forward, two paces behind.

The hallway looks like it is getting longer and longer the more you walk down it. You feel yourself tunnel visioning. The way Astarion just treated you felt so demeaning. Does he view you like all these other lords view their spawn? Are you really an outlier, or does he just say you are to keep you compliant?

No. He’s just stressed. This is important to him. You should swallow your morals. Keep your thoughts to yourself, these are important people to know.

Once you reach the ballroom, the ceiling and walls open up and you see the most magnificently eloquent crowd of the most beautiful men and women dressed in mostly red and black. Their sharp features are illuminated by the thousands of candles from the crystal chandeliers that hang above.

You can’t help but notice that not many people have a spawn along with them. They must have left them in that cursed “coat room”. What do they do with them there? You can’t imagine they have refreshments or a party of their own. You only can hope they’re comfortable.

You shake the thought away. Try to enjoy yourself. “Swallow your morals for one night.” Astarion’s voice echoes in your mind.

There are place settings at each of the tables with names of lords and ladies permitting their seat. You and Astarion walk around leisurely trying to find where your places are. You make it around the room once to no avail. You and Astarion stand around for a few minutes before he gives you a devious grin and scans his eyes around where the two of you are standing. Before you have a chance to question him, he grabs your wrist and sweeps you away into the empty hallway adjacent to the ballroom. He is speed walking at an unnatural pace before stopping at a door. He glances toward the ballroom over your shoulder and lightly knocks. Leaning into the door slightly, he hears no response. He swings the door open and pulls you inside.

Suddenly, he turns and presses himself into you, pushing you into the door slamming it shut. His lips latch to yours with fervent desire. He rolls his hips into you slightly, pressing his hard length into you.

You pull away for a moment. “What’s this about?” you ask flirtatiously as you caress your hand over the fabric barrier between his swelling cock and you.

He presses his mouth against yours with equal vigor. He unlatches for a moment and sighs in pleasure in response to your touch. “You know,” he pants between kissing you. “I thought being in a room full of envious vampire lords would be threatening.” He grinds his length against your hand. “Turns out, it’s utterly invigorating.”

Next chapter: "Your Most Prized Spawn" pt. 2

[iamjucie]

I made character playlists for the Astarion and Tav in my fics i thought I would share. <3

[iamjucie]

i will get an astarion tattoo. that motherfucker means so much to me.