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pursuitseternal · 4 days

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“The Seventh Day:” filled with self indulgent A!A behavior (Astarbation) in “Antics of the Newly Ascended”

Ascended Astarion x F!Reader | E | 1.9K of Astarion self-love

🎨 by @marimosalad full nsfw on X 🍆💦

Summary: Left behind, Astarion occupies his Ascended self first with some uncharacteristically (selfishly-motivated) selflessness, followed by some self-served reward in anticipation for your return home.

CW: Male masturbation (Astarbation?), panty sniffer/theif, he’s trying to be a helpful (selfishly), self-indulgent Astarion, Reflection Appreciation™️, he would be such a messy partner (in so many ways)

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

The Seventh Day…

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“Oh… darling, I’m hurt. I thought we had something special…”

“You always say that, and you’re always hurt…” you fold your arms and tilt your chin up at him.

“Am not,” Astarion fires back, petulant like a child, until he realizes everyone is watching your exchange. He straightens his spine and picks the pretend lint off the cuff of his sleeve. “You go right along… you’re the leader after all, and if you think you can finish your business without the Vampire Ascendant in your ranks, then go, have fun…”

You level that glare at him that lets him know you see right past his facade to the bullshit underneath.

“No, really,” he purrs, “you go, I’ll just stay here while… you do all the hard work.” He gives you that arrogant smirk and tilt of his head, that makes you war inside whether you want to slap him silly or fuck him senseless. He can see it… in your thoughts, in the way your heart pounds slow and harder as his eyes look down your armored figure. “I’ll just stay here, tend the home fires and find little ways to comfort myself over your absence, darling.”

He flashes his fanged smirk at you, your nostrils flaring wide with irritation and lust. “Don’t make a mess,” you taunt. “Enjoy your alone time.” With that you spin on your heel and your chosen three follow.

Wyll in particular laughs loudest. “Don’t worry, once he finds a mirror, he’ll be entertained for hours, I’m sure.”

The group chortles as they shut the door to their rooms in the Elfsong, but not before you throw one more look over your shoulder at your lover. He’s just smirking, irritated and conflated despite his wounded pride, making a show for you in that one moment of unbuckling his armor to drop it at his feet.

You shake your head and smile, all the irritation you have melted into love as you blow him a kiss. Then you shut that door.

The instant the door is shut, Astarion grimaces and throws the rest of his armor to the ground in a huff. Petulant? Yes, but also hurt. He looks around the empty suite of rooms, collecting his armor, he decides to actually put it away properly for once back in his rooms. Your rooms. Besides, he has no interest in watching Scratch nap by the fireplace, or risk any of the other ‘strays’ who have joined along the way come up and bother him.

With a discontented sigh, Astarion slinks his way into your rooms alone. That open chest for his armor is so close inside the door, but he sets it down on the floor. See how she likes that… he smirks, imagining your usual comments made under your breath about his messiness as you insist on tidying up. You’ll have to step over it when you come back exhausted and bloodied.

A slight pang of guilt tweaks his gut, his eyes settle on it again, that pile of his armor… the stack of messy clothes—yours and his— discarded hurriedly last night before your fucked… A slight disgruntled smile crosses his face. Maybe… just this once…. He could entertain himself in a different way.

He starts putting the armor in the trunk piece by piece, and with each one he starts to think about how much you will smile as you see your rooms.

Another piece in the trunk… he can almost feel your blush color your cheeks at his thoughtfulness. Your gratitude will be palpable… and you will want to shower him with affection… willingness… Astarion sighs to think about how you will positively reek of sweat and blood and arousal when you see what he’s done for you, his darling.

He closes the lid of the storage chest with an eager groan, that ache in his groin blooming slightly just at the thought of what will come once you’re home. You’ll positively worship at his feet for taking such good care of you…

That ache burgeons into a full erection at the image he’s conjured in his mind. With one final grunt, he picks up the pile of discarded clothing from last night, setting it properly in the basket, one rumpled thing of fabric at a time in the corner to be laundered later. One hand adjusts his erection, the other holds the last piece of fabric from the floor. Your undergarments.

He pauses, catching your scent in the air just as he wraps his hand around himself…

… he’s just trying to fix that hardness… he tells himself. But he can’t help but give that cock in his grasp a little rub.

He hisses, trying to catch his breath, but his nose only fills with your scent stronger the longer he holds your small clothes in his grip.

“Fuck it,” he growls to himself, unceremoniously sitting himself on the edge of the bed, surrounded by a tidy room. Surely, he deserves his own reward. And your own laziness last night to dispose of your underwear properly has just gifted him with a great incentive. That soft fabric, inundated with your musk, makes his mouth water. He just… has to…

He presses it to his nose, his cock freed from the top of his leathers as he slowly starts to caress it. It feels so good in his hand: the perfect length, the flawless width, the impressive hardness he always gets that makes every vein rise to the surface like marble. The masterpiece of a body that he is, he smirks to himself.

Another deep whiff of that delicious scent, he looks to the side, that large mirror so perfectly placed across from the bed, his idea. His eyes flit between watching his own cock pulse in his fist, staring at the perfection is his own reflection, and closing his eyes to take another deep lung-full of your scent.

Intoxicating, the beat of his own warm hand matches that pulse of his heart, a pounding so insistent in those veins. So steady and growing more pronounced even as he still works himself into bliss. Astarion gives a contented sigh, his thumb catching over that sweet, weeping slit to wet his cock head with early cum.

Indulgent, the way the faded ghost of your musk compliments his own as it grows with every leaking stroke he makes over his own shaft. No wonder you two are so destined for greatness, so perfect together… your bodies made for one another on some primal level, right down to your scents.

A few breaths catch in his throat, the corner of his eye now fixed on that mirror. He pauses to pull his shirt up higher, his leathers down lower, wanting to see more of himself, a body that has ruined so many… Small wonder, he laughs a bit darkly, a bit proudly. The edges of his abdominals protrude, just right, that deep v of his muscles drawing the eye inexorably to that now-glistening cock. Even his balls, so smooth and round and tight now as he feels the pleasure building deep in his core.

For once, now, this body is his to savor, to command and pleasure.

“Ahh…” the thought of reclaiming himself makes his cock leap almost out of his own hand. “Delicious,” he groans to no one but himself. Leaning back, he lets his hips buck into his hand a bit, just for a little extra show… a little more stimulation as his mouth starts to hang slack. He lets that fabric treasure of your underwear slip off his face, just a bit, so he can admire the way his own fangs glint in the sunlight.

Now, those weapons behind his lips, those fangs, those are something just for him, a decadence no one gets to enjoy but you… and himself now of course. With a groan, he longs to sink them into flesh, to feel that first burst of blood as it breaks through skin to coat his hungry tongue. And in his carelessness, he finds it, nipping his own lip to taste his own ascendant blood.

Rich… full… powerful… familiar… he groans. Incredible that you get to drink from him, what a treat for his consort and for himself. The thought of you suckling from his own neck, the play of your breath on his skin as you feed, shivers run down the base of his spine, making his muscles clench and his cock buck harder into his hand.

You’ll be so touched when you see what he’s done for you, his little act of humility to gain your immense gratitude… fuck… it’ll be worth it. The back breaking labor he’s done to please you and make you smile and see his love for you still, even with all he’s become.

Your eyes will sparkle, your lips will arch in that come-hither smile you give him… you won’t be able to resist letting him take you right then and there, however he wants…

His eyes flash to the mirror, the paint of blush on his cheeks and tips of his ears…. It makes his fist grip tighter, his hand beat faster to chase that pressure that needs release. The breath catches in his lungs, his teeth gritting as he feels his balls tighten and cock thicken as he strokes faster and faster…

Another glance at his beloved reflection— that slow seep of pearly cum leaking from his cock… perfection, seduction incarnate, he smirks to himself as he arches and his head cranes backwards. Grunting, sighing, he licks his lips as that pressure in his balls bursts at last, a few more erratic bucks into his fist, as he forces his eyes open to watch.

He juts his hips out forward, almost off the edge of the bed, angled just right to watch his cum explode out gloriously. The reflection, the pulsing he feels, the warmth that drips on his hand…

Head hanging down, tongue licking his lips, he watches as his cock twitches a few more times, that release overwhelming him as he huffs with open mouth. Drips of his cum spatter here and there on the floorboards, the few offending signs of…

The door swings open, you stand panting in its frame, a bit bloodied but none of it your own. Your sharp eyes take in the scene… your love panting, cock in hand, rosy post-coital cheeks flaring a hot pink as you catch him in his indulgence. And all you can do is smirk, knowing you have the upper hand on him, shaking your head as he starts to sputter excuses.

Then you notice what he holds in his other hand, your discarded undergarments from last night. Now your cheeks flame so hot, you’re pretty sure even your undead pale skin is blushing. “What…” but you swallow the question. Why ask it… you know full well what he was doing with your intimates. “I’ll skip the question and just point out that I left you alone for an hour… and you’ve made…” you smirk wickedly as you cross to kneel before him, “… such a mess.”

“Actually, darling, you’ve failed to see that I cleane—”

But before he can get whiny and defensive, you silence him, wrapping your mouth around his still, weeping cock. You moan around his length, not giving it lots of force, just a lazy bob of your head, a slow lick of your tongue. A few swirls of your lips laps all the extra cum from his velvety skin. Then you pull off of him, grinning with all your own self-righteous taunting. “That’s… how you clean, my lord.”

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pursuitseternal · 5 days

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WIP game:

Thank you @bardic-inspo and @starryjuicebox 💞💞

{I’m usually horribly forgetful for tag games, but I managed this one!}

Rules: make a new post and share 1-2 sentences from your most recent unposted WIP(s) with zero context – Let your followers guess!

“Insufferable,” you sigh, baiting him as your own hand slips between where he hovers over you to catch those perfectly rounded, smooth and velvety balls of his. “Admit you were… nervous.”

“I’m more nervous now that you’ve got those in your grip, darling,” he gives a pleasured, breathless laugh as you toy with them slowly.

🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒

Tagging for fun: @nyx-knox @marimosalad @brabblesblog @wolfywolfy @charmandabear @tinosawruswrites 💞 if you want to share a baby WIP

#wip tag game #🍒🍒🍒#who doesn’t want to tug those

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pursuitseternal · 9 days

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“Stealing:” the Raven and the Ascendant at it again in “Our Blood is Thicker”

(Ascended) Astarion x Cordehlia (Tav) | E | 4K

🎨 by @marimosalad full more NSFW ON X and below the cut

Summary: Returning home, Cordhelia gets her hands on Astarion’s old tunic. What better way to tease him, just like she used to… by stealing his stuff.

CW: busty!Cordy, the Raven and the Ascendant’s continuing journey, dirty talk, taunting, and praise, marriage bond flashback, floor riding smut.

Previous ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 22… Stealing

💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞

“Love?” Cordehlia called as she trudged her way up the stairs of the Palace. Her hand left a few streaks of blood on the handrail as she climbed higher towards their chambers. She rolled her eyes as the new colors he had chosen for the Palace, intimidating darks and burning scarlets and burnished golds. Everything the world expected of the Vampire Ascendant as he made his new domain on the ashes of his former Master and tormentor.

She huffed through her nose. The Crimson Palace. Of course he’d take that literally.

Cordehlia couldn’t even look at the massive sprawling portraits of his face that dotted the place. She, more than anyone, knew his ego could rage if unchecked, shaking her head, she recalled all that dripping arrogance as the young lording of their people. Now add wealth, unparalleled power, and the title of Hero of the Gate…. Cordehlia sighed as she reached the master bedroom.

The sunset’s light poured into the room through the colored windows, a wash of blues and greens and goldens like the forests of their youth. For as bloodied as the rest of the Palace had been made, this… this was their sanctum. Their private retreat from the demands of power and expectation. A place where the Vampire Ascendant and his Consort were just… them. Walls, bedding, decor, it all was burnished in golds and colored in verdancy. Airy and light and simple. A breath of fresh forest air in the throes of the City.

“Astarion?” Cordehlia called once more, starting to unlace her bloodied black leather armor. Those Bhaalists had been easy. Too many to dispatch quickly, but easy. She slipped off each piece to set it carefully by the door. The blood collected and dried in the little carved feathers all along her armor. For as fearsome as she looked as the Raven, it sure was hell to clean after each night she went out. Fortunately they had servants now. A palace full.

Besides, he liked the way she looked in the armor he had bought her, when she was covered in black leather and cape, face half concealed beneath her new helm. His little harbinger of death, his own fierce Right Hand to work in the shadows.

The fall of the Netherbrain had only been a beginning, the rest of those tendrils… or tentacles… of the Dead Three’s power still needed dismantling. By day, they rebuilt the City, funding projects and attending galas, by night they crept in the dark to finish what had begun months before….

When they weren’t here, in this bedchamber, still making up for centuries apart from one another.

She smiled, still looking around the room for any traces he was home. But given the pristine cleanliness, the answer was a resounding negative. His meetings must have run late, she concluded, heading to the bathing chamber to draw a warm bath. Bhaalist blood, she had learned, tasted worse than it smelled, and she was eager to be free of it.

Today had been a special battle, one opportunity to try to cut the Bhaalists off at the root, and it had taken her nearly all day. As she sank into the warm and soapy water, she felt the tension leaving her muscled frame. A few moments to herself sounded like balm to her weariness. After all, if she truly needed him she could simply tug gently at that new bond that connected them mind to mind, not just soul to soul. No, for now, she could enjoy herself alone.

Maybe it was her lost in the scent of the perfumed soaps, of moss and sweet grass and wildflowers that wafted on the steam. Maybe it was her, lost as she wandered through her memories of times before, of their young, carefree and bloodless days.

Whatever it was, Cordehlia’s heart brimmed with nostalgia.

As the sun lowered, it slatted through the cool colored stained glass of their rooms, bathing her in a flood of green and blue light. Cordehlia smiled, remembering the mossy banks of their youth in the forests of the Yuirwood. So far away, and so long ago, she could feel the same longing for nature and the open air. The water had grown cold, the only sign of how long she had been soaking away the sweat and blood of her day. Stepping out carefully, she dried her cool and pale skin, heading into their bed chamber to find something comfortable for the evening.

She took a deep breath as she crossed their large chamber. Her hand ran over the leaves and scrollwork of the patterns on their wardrobes. For all the comforts she had at the tips of her fingers now, she missed those days on the road, fucking in his tent, falling in love with him all over again for the man he was now, the reflection of her own inner darkness made sharper inside him.

The door opened easily, her elegant gowns and lingerie hanging perfectly inside. Such finery. Too fine for her. She glanced at the bloodied leather armor across the room, grappling with that lingering pain in her heart at the darkness she was trying to use for good, for justice… for cleansing the City. Still, her heart longed to go back to simpler days, innocent days. She craved those moments when Astarion was with her, making her heal from that demanding darkness that was her nature.

Her hands searched the bottom of the wardrobe, a pile of their old clothing from their adventures on the road pushed into the darkest, furthest corner. Carefully, she fished out her old flowing tunic, the bell shaped sleeves still forever stained from dirt and blood and Illithid slime. The nostalgia was so great, her heart thrumming with the memories of joy and angst of it all. Another pale, stained linen shirt laid beside it.

Those ruffles, that deep v cut and lacing sent a thrill of recognition instantly to her heart, and her core. Soft as she remembered, she held the shirt in her hands, reverent almost, as she pressed it to her face. Breathing deeply, her heart thumped slowly but steadily with the rush of joy it gave her.

His. His shirt. Old and repaired countless times and eccentric. Just like him.

A tug of a smirk at her lips, and she settled it over her body. She had grown a little rounder, fuller, and curvier since their days on the road and in battle. Well-fed, cared for, adored, her curves strained against the narrow cuts of his shirt. Her breasts nearly poured out from that deep v of his collar. An embrace of his shirt all over her torso.

She smiled. Oh, he would be livid to see her in this, she smirked. Not that she liked irritating him or inciting him to be annoyed. She didn’t like doing that… she loved it.

Just as she was imagining that irritated furrow to his brow and his nasally and whiny voice, his near-silent footsteps climbed up the center stair. Her stomach leapt, oh, she would taunt him mercilessly in this. She glanced over her shoulder, impish as she bent down to rummage more in the bottom of their wardrobe. She made sure the hem of his shirt rested on the crest of her hips as she bent forward.

Giving him a sight to behold as he entered.

Reckless, mischievous, Cordehlia held her breath to savor the sounds of him. The click of the door, the sharp inhale into his undead lungs, the softer gritting of his teeth and racing of his pulse as he took in the display of his Bride as she presented herself so… lewdly. So perfectly.

“My…” he couldn't even get out a pet name without his voice cracking at the sight of her bent over like that. He could smell her bloodied, discarded armor beside him as he closed the door. “A successful raid against the Bhaalists, it would seem, my little Raven.”

Cordehlia smirked, her face the perfect picture of startled and breathless. Too perfect. “Oh, my love,” she turned completely around and stood strength, a hand on her heaving bosom as if she had to catch her breath. “I didn’t know you were home…”

His eyes narrowed, an irritated smirk on his thick and sensual lips. “Yes you did, my little minx,” he rasped. “You’re senses are too sharp for that excuse, they always were,” he grunted as he crossed to her. Crimson eyes scanned her body, taking in the sight of her shirt.

His shirt.

“Where did you find these old rags?” he purred, that privileged, judgmental tone cooling his voice as he crossed over towards her. His finger picked at the ruffles as if they offended him. “I’ve bought you dresses, exotic silks and shifts and gowns for the bedroom, and this…” he sneers a bit naughtily, “you pick my old shirt?”

“I did,” she smiled back, so haughty and taunting. “For as… nice as your gifts are…” she trailed off, making her eyes big and innocent and teary, “they just don’t smell or feel like you against my skin…”

His eyes dilated as he watched her hand against her skin, watching as she teased his shirt over her body. “It’s a little snug, however,” she chuckled, picking at the collar that her breasts were positively spilling out from.

All fangs and breath, he kissed her, consuming her. Hands clawed at those full and supple breasts she couldn’t stop mentioning. His fingers squeezed like a vice, a moment of aggression followed by long and sensuous caressing. Cordehlia groaned, arching against him, trying to lift the shift from her body.

“Ah, ah,” he tutted in mock chastisement. “You made your choice of apparel. And I must say, I might even look better on you than me, my love. But now, you’re going to have to live with the consequences of your choice.”

“You mean, getting fucked is the consequence of my choice, don’t you?”

Astarion only gave that low, reverberating chuckle. “Now, I liked the sight of you before, why don’t you bend over again, my bride, and I’ll give you what you were clearly seeking?”

She looked so innocent as she smiled up at him. As if she hadn’t just been bent over to taunt him, as if she hadn’t been caked in the blood of their enemies before that. “I don’t know what you mean, she replied so calmly. “I was just looking for a little something comfortable to slip into.” She tried to back away, eyes darting as he started to unfasted the clasps of his ornate jacket before it landed on the floor for him to step over. “You’ll never believe…” she smirked, impish as she backed up some more, “I thought it was my tunic, it felt so familiar until I put this old thing on.” Letting out a small giggle, she only smirked harder as he closed that distance she kept insisting on making.

His ravenous smirk only widened. “You always did like games of chase as a girl,” he replied, voice like gravel from his growing desire for her. “And you always were such a tease and a horrible liar.”

Cordehlia let out a giggle as she turned to dart away. But he was all the faster, too many decades of these same kinds of games to not know her every next little move. Swiftly and suddenly, her vision was filled with bright blues and greens of the stained glass windows as he caught her and pinned her tightly beneath him. “I think I’ve won, my darling,” he rasped in her ear, his body pressing against her back and his hands running up and down her bare legs.

“For now…” she purred as she pushed away from the window just a bit.

“How about, for now, you let me enjoy the sight of you in my shirt, you adorable thief,” he chuckled, a hand reaching around her waist, the other pinning her hands above her head and against the cool glass of the windows. The bare skin of his chest radiated heat, his temperature seeming to burn hotter the more his hand slunk over her belly, the more it teased the ancient fabric of his old shirt. “Little light fingered Cordehlia, always getting in trouble…”

She huffed a laugh, hiding the groan in her voice as his fingers found their way between her legs. “Usually getting caught because of something you made me do with you, little lordling.” He tried to lift her head away from the window, but his hand just squashed her harder, pressing her breasts against the cool glass harder, making her shiver where her skin touched it from the cut of his shirt.

“Now, now,” he groaned, grinding his hardened cock against her bare ass, “you got me into trouble just as much, from what I can recall.”

Cordehlia gave that low and musical laugh, her mirth broken by a few pants as his fingers determinedly sought out her clit. “From what I

remember, you loved it…”

Astarion hissed, his cock aching to be so confined, but that feeling and scent of her own arousal was too delicious to pull away from. Closing his eyes, he felt her mind, her memories tickling in his own brain, an invitation to join her. The blue and green light of the room faded from reality, the sun of the Yuirwood bathing their youthful faces as her memories came to life….

“You give that back!” Astarion’s voice called after her, that red-haired terror he loved to be around. Loved to be around… until she did something utterly irritating, like stealing his new book from his mother.

“I’m not going to break it,” she taunted back over her shoulder, her rosy lips turned in a teasing, impish grin. “Not like you need another book for your massive collection, Astarion, you spoiled brat.”

That made him grind his teeth and sprint all the faster after her. Reaching one hand, he caught the trailing ends of her hair, pulling her up short and making her tumble into the mossy forest floor.

“Fuck you!” Cordehlia hissed, barely breathing as the wind got knocked from her lungs. Astarion towered over her, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“Doubly naughty,” his voice creaked from thirst and exertion. “Stealing my book,” he snatched it from her hands as she laid in the dirt, “and using such foul language for a she-elf of breeding.”

She sneered a smile, her fist landing at the back of his knee making him crumple to the dirt beside her. Swift and graceful, she pinned him down. “You’d think you would know, by your age, I am not just some she-elf of breeding…”

“By our age, you should know that it’s unbecoming and unattractive to steal things from your closest of friends. We aren’t just little elflings anymore.” He grunted, his face growing pink as he fought against her hands that braced his fists at his side, as he tried to throw her off from how she straddled him.

“You know I hate when you do this?” He spat.

“Do what?” Cordehlia pouted, holding on to him tightly. “When I beat you? When I outsmart you?” She taunted, reaching for the book from his side to flaunt it in his face.

“I hate when you pin me like this, like some little brat of a she-elf,” he grumbles. But Cordehlia only held on harder, pushing him to the earth more beneath her legs. She moved to toss the book away when…

“Astarion, is something the matter?” She looked at him, his eyes were dark, his face was flushed. “You don’t look right…” As she moved to set the book down, she felt something under her. “Something wrong with your stomach? You have a bump…”

He hissed and threw her off. “I said I don’t like it,” he grumbled, grabbing his book and holding it over his lower stomach. “Stop taking my things, Cordehlia, and maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll share them with you instead.” He sniffed and turned to stride away.

Her laughter broke the spell, their memories fading as the palace’s walls and colored windows took shape again. She rammed him backwards, sending Astarion flying most ungracefully to the carpet behind him. Sprawled out, he caught his breath, opening his eyes to see her feral, cunning leering face descend on him to pin him down. “Little did I know then just how much you actually loved when I was pressed against you,” she purred, sitting astride him the same as in the past, her hips grinding down on his confined cock, hands splayed on his bare chest.

He groaned under her, teeth bared and hands tight on her hips.

“Don’t look so cross with me,” she panted, grinding her slick folds on the velvet of his breeches. “How can you be angry when I look so adorable in my purloined shirt?”

“Because…” he grunted, “one, it’s my shirt, and two…” he slid his hands to the band of his trousers, forcing them down to let his cock finally free, “if I don’t do now what I wanted to do with you then, I’m afraid you’ll find me far worse off than… cross…” he smirks up at her, fangs glinting with mischief.

“Oh, you can be so much worse than cross,” Cordehlia teased, “spoiled for instance, annoying…” that smooth, hard skin of his cock pressed deliciously beneath her, and biting her lip, she tilted herself to catch it. Sinking on to it, groaning to be finally filled and satisfied to have him under her power.

Astarion bucked beneath her, a pleased, arrogant grin on his lips as his eyes closed. “Well, at least I’ve learned over the centuries how to play nicely with one person.”

“Ha! Barely,” Cordehlia scoffed as she slowed down on him. Sitting perfectly, frustratingly still, she teased his shirt on her body. Her strong and lithe fingers brushing her skin where her breasts pushed up through the cut of his collar. Lifting up its hem, she brought that ivory fabric to her face and breathed in deep. Astarion’s eyes went wide, dark and dilated as he watched her own pale belly and the curves of her breasts slowly come into view. Every breath she took, he could feel her muscles expand and relax around his cock. And then she sighed, “Still smells like you, my love. Like your salt and sweat and musk… like how you smelled after a long day of fighting and killing and…” she dropped the shirt and grinded on his length again suddenly, “fucking.”

He sat up with so much strength, wrapping her body in his arms, face nuzzled into her shoulder. His breath flowed over the crook of her neck, sending shivers to scatter down her spine. “Honestly, darling, now it smells like you… mouthwatering and fresh and fierce.” He smirked at her, slowly lifting his head to brush noses with his love. “And I think I like it better that way…”

Fangs sank gently into her neck, making Cordehlia buck erratically on his lap, the sudden movement making him pull away quickly with a snarl. Blood on his chin, dripping down her neck, he looked her over with lust-blown eyes. Lips pressed against his gently, her breath sweeter than meadowgrass as she slowly rode him. A steady tempo, a rocking of their union as she took her sweet time to buck on his cock. Craving every inch, every ridge and vein of him single her, she wanted to feel, to remind her that they had made it.

They had won.

Her undead heart palpitated in her chest, or maybe it was his own heart beating so hard beneath his ribs it resonated in her very bones. He bent in worship of her, giving her the very air from his lungs and blood from his veins to sustain her as they moved like water over rocks, so pure and fluid. Warm touch and strong fingers clung into her hair, tugging her head back, angling her mouth just right for his tongue to delve deep inside, to skate over her fangs and feast on her taste. Breath growing short, her aching muscles flooded with the need to finish, to chase that release he always, always gave. Arms hugged her tight, a gesture that was once so innocent between them now something so full-blooded and thick with heavy desire. Her own two arms, capable of so much violence and strength, clutched around his neck, pulling his mouth to fasten against her own.

The fading daylight bathed them in the softer blues and greens through the windows of the palace. It warmed their skin from without, even as the slow friction of their coupling warmed them quickly from within. His breath grew harsh and stilted, his teeth biting hard on themselves, jaw tight, and every muscle drawn tense; it was enough to shove Cordehlia into her own wave of climax in the same breath as him.

Her lungs burned as all the air disappeared, her aching muscles bunched and fluttered, all she could do was gasp to fill her empty lungs with air. Every breath was laden with his scent, ancient and familiar from his shirt caressing her body, and that all-too-familiar perfume of elegance, of citrus and herbs and brandy.

Catching her breath, she felt his head fall against her bosom, the Ascendant laid low as he caught a second wind cradled against his love’s body. “To bed?” he whispered softly. Drenched, Cordehlia slid off his lap, locking eyes with him as looked up at last.

His eyes might have been kohl-lined now and crimson, his teeth like weapons, and his back forever scared by his torment, but in the bath of blue-green light, he stole her breath. This mighty Ascendant, and yet still the same cocky elven boy who smirked, stealing her heart… he looked up at her with wide loving eyes.

Astarion, even more lithe and sleek since his ascension, stood and pulled his trousers all the way off. Without warning, he swept her in his arms, catching her back in his grip and her lips in his kiss. Their bed caught her as he slipped in beside her, on her, everywhere at once.

Attentive, lusty, and passionate—just as he always had been since he first laid claim to her heart, and then her body, and now her future. Finally.

The room darkened as the sun set, verdant greens and lush blues turning to black again as night fell outside their little haven of a bedroom. But they were far from finished.

Pants and sighs and the slaps of flesh filled their room for hours, but even the undead eventually end up collapsed in a pile of bliss. Resting her head on his chest, the pounding of his heart was her lullaby, that ancient pattern that had soothed her to sleep for years, and Cordehlia drifted off into sleep, still hugged tightly in his old shirt.

Hand in hand, he held her body, not just in his arms in their palace, but in their minds. In their dreams, he found her, bathed in the real soft greens of the Yuirwood. Her confident face looked at him with all the love she had preserved for him for centuries, her eyes a mix of silver and crimson, the oneness of who she had always been and who she was now. His bride, his beloved, and his Raven. Bringing her dream-lips against his, he could taste her breath again on his real tongue.

Lost in his touch, Cordehlia clung to his body and soul. For that moment, even among the dream-like trees, she could smell him, feel him, that boy that stole her and became her everything.

💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

Just a bit nsfw… so we post it here, by @marimosalad

Hope you loved these menaces 💞

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pursuitseternal · 13 days

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Secrets and Sensuality in Chapter 3 of “A Night with the Ascendant”

Ascended Astarion x Spawn (Lumina) | E | 2.8K

🎨 by @snowfolly

Summary: Lumina confronts Lord Astarion about the sudden change in her abilities. She only finds more questions and a stronger curiosity over her possessive, obsessive Master who distracts her the best way he knows… in his bed.

CW: half-truths, smut as distraction, sneaky (not)-spawn Lumina, BG3 game references, No Tav, dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, throat fucking (that kind where she’s upside down off the bed).

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 3…

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

“What happened?” Lumina asked, direct but softly as he let her in through their conjoining door.

“Good morning, my little mistress,” Astarion smirked down at her, looming over her for a moment too long before he stepped back to allow her inside. “It seems to be a beautiful day out,” he flashed her a devilish smirk as she drew to a stop in the patches of sun spilling from his windows.

“What… happened?” she just repeated. Oh, she was good, he assessed. Eyes downcast, and hands clasped softly, but the tension in her shoulders and jaw, that hard press of her voice in her throat…. He could tell she was nearly ready to scream.

He looked at his nails, perfectly manicured, keeping his eye from her diverted, if furious, scarlet stare. “You mean what gives you the power as a spawn of mine to stand in the sun… to feel so strong and powerful?” He glanced up sharply to watch her give a single nod. Controlled and suppressed, daring of her. “Simple, it is I who give you that power… it’s because of my generosity and favoritism towards you. No others will call those powers their own…” he lowered his hand, half of a bow to her in mock deference. “They are yours alone, my treasure, because you are mine.”

Lumina drew her little frame to its full height, still only reaching her face to his neck. “That may be, my lord, my love, but I know magic when I feel it.”

“My dear, my very existence is magic,” he swept his arms wide. “And you, blessed you, are the only one to share in a mere sliver of that magic.” He reached for her jaw, cradling it to draw her face even closer to his own. “Let that answer be good enough for you, my mistress,” he breathed, his words sweet in tone but exacting as a command. “I would give you anything to make you happy… the world, my own essence, my magic… to keep you as mine.” I pulled her forward and ordered her, “Kiss me.”

Lips devoured hers, fangs clacking on her own, his kiss branded her mouth and flooded her senses. But her mind still raced, seeking out those tendrils of his power that usually accompanied his orders. But they never came. She sequestered away that observation as she soon grew lost in his taste and touch that permeated every following coherent thought. Her body lifted into the air, cradled in his arms to then be rested gently in those silken sheets across his familiar bed.

No more thoughts crossed her mind, not as he hiked up her skirts and his cock slid into her, that scent of his skin, of perfume and sweat and sex intoxicating her. More, she needed more after being at such a great distance from her heart’s desire for so long before this. His voice hissed into her ear, lustful words that made her quake with need. “My little mistress, my little treat to savour, all flushed now and hot for me…”

Lumina groaned, her body indeed on fire now, pinned and naked for their pleasure. “Yes, gods yes…” she groaned as he filled.

“Much more to me than a plaything, than some spawn,” he continued. “So much more…”

Limbs hummed and clung to his frame as he began to slowly thrust in and out, that devilishly tempting pace she had grown addicted to. “But you seem to be having… fun, my lord.”

He chuckled deep in his throat, the vibrations passing into her own skull it seemed. “I am… it’s hard not to with you, my Little Light.”

She rewarded that with a kiss, a never ending tangle of tongues and gnashing of fangs that stole her breath. Lost was the end of her body and the beginning of his—he was everywhere all at once, as if his presence raged in her very veins.

Pleasure swept her away, time after time, round after round as he had savored her affections before his journey. And in the end, even in the pooling sunlight of the afternoon, she ended the same—resting semi-conscious and sweetly smiling in his bed. The last sensation she recalled were his smoothe, dexterous fingers brushing through her straw-golden locks.

Then she rested.

The sun had risen high by the time Lumina stirred. She stretched her aching muscles, looking out the open window to see the City bathed in the sun, to hear the voices of life whining in the distance from beyond the place walls. She stood, scanning his rooms to find herself alone. It was such a bright and airy chamber, it stole her breath, never having witnessed it during the day… before…

…before whatever it was that had given her this power to stand in the sun and not char to a crisp.

Crystal chandeliers gave off sparkles of light, the brilliant hues of leather covers dotting the room in a prism of colors. Such decadence and luxury and beauty.

Just like him.

But as her wits finally returned, as the allure of his sensuality faded, Lumina couldn’t push away those suspicions anymore.

What had she become… what did he do to her, this gift of being made his mistress. What did it all mean?

Perhaps, he hadn’t meant for her to wake up alone, perhaps this was a chance.

And, from what she knew in life, urchin wretches like her had to take their chances.

On silent feet, she scrutinized his room, those sharp eyes that could find any object out of the ordinary, the keen sense she had honed as an indentured servant, a slave to a brute of man, came back raging full force as she looked for… anything.

She scanned his vanity, nothing out of the ordinary, kohl for his eyes and bits of fine jewelry, a basket of rings, a collection of scents and oils for his body and hair. Just looking at them made her smell his scent in her nose.

It made her salivate and grow insanely wet between…

No, no. She had to keep searching.

Shelves, lined with books upon books, cast some of the only shadows in his room at this time of day. Tidy and cared-for, well-loved and organized. Each stack held different topics—botany and necromancy, the magic of Karsus, the history of Avernus, the legend of the Blade of Frontiers, and Sharan worship… such a unique collection of topics, she observed.

But something drew her notice… a smaller bound leather journal wrapped tightly in its own little bindings. Glancing at the door, she pulled this one from the shelves. Nervousness shook her hands.

Surely… he had been so generous before, letting her choose any book at whim. Even if this was a journal, not a book per se.

Opening the cover, it was written in a tight and exact hand. Each page was speckled with regular updates, lists of quests and questions… Observations of Illithids and healers, Tieflings and Goblins in the… Emerald Grove… little notes about individuals… the Daughter of Darkness… the Wizard of Waterdeep…

Lumina paused. Titles that rang some bell in her head about the history of Baldur’s Gate. Her mind whizzed through the stories, accounts from the history books told by the actors themselves. The heroes.

Finally her eyes settled on one list of notes on the Pale Elf….

“Astarion…” she breathed into the silence, “the Saviours of Baldur’s Gate.”

She sat down with the journal, pouring over it as she settled cross-legged on the floor. So many details and intricacies and trials and tribulations, stated so matter of factly… words flew by her in a flash, she couldn’t devour the notes fast enough. They were fables, tales from two centuries ago, the literal stuff of legends—those six companions and their tadpoles who brought down the Dead Three and the plot of the Absolute.

She could feel her heart racing, the account of Astarion, a slave and spawn, seeking vengeance against his tormentor and master, taking his power, taking for himself everything that was so long denied to him.

Her heart could burst… from pride in him, from envy for a story not unlike her own. For as much as those in the Upper and Lower Cities whisper about the Ascendant as ruthless, a monster… a villain. For all of that, he was her hero.

Astarion, her dark saviour, scooping her from the darkness to give her light… sent to sweep her off to his palace, giving her a place where she belonged.

With a sigh, she lost herself tin that feeling, her fingers tracing over the worn vellum pages in a sort of bliss….

“Little Light, whatever could be the matter?” his voice purred from above her. Glancing up, he towered from behind, his elegantly stitched trousers hugged his muscles. The ivory of its silk let all the heat of his body radiate against her back. “Why ever are you on the floor?” He leaned closer, his breath seeping into the mussed curls of her pale blonde hair. “And what have you… found?”

His voice dropped from that sultry velvet of a purr to something deeper. A growl.

Lumina gave a radiant smile from the floor at his feet. “Oh, just a uniquely scribbled little journal from two-centuries ago…”

A slow roll of a laugh drew closer as he crouched beside her, deftly his fingers grabbed the journal from her hands and tossed it across the room. “You should forget what you have read, my love. Ancient records of people long gone, names all but faded from history and time, mouldering graves and dusty bones…”

Her nose wrinkled at him, her pale brows furrowed. “Not you, not the Pale Elf…”

The scowl on his face silenced her faster than if he had smacked her across her cheek. “You will not call me that,” he snapped on each word. Grabbing her by the arm, he dragged her to her feet before him to stop at the edge of his bed.

“I… I thought it would be acceptable to look through your books as you have allowed me to before…”

He laughed, low and quiet. Dangerous. “I leave you alone, my lovely little mistress for an hour or so, and you’ve gone and pried into things you shouldn’t have,” he hissed, bringing his lips right to her ear and nipping the soft flesh of its lobe. “Cheeky little pup. I’ll have to do something about it, like punish you.”

“P-punish?”

“Oh, no, nothing you won’t also enjoy, I’m sure,” he led her towards his bed, his hand wrapped firmly around her arm, touch hot through the silk sleeve of her dress. “After all, I am enamored of your spirit, your brilliance and sneakiness… but…”

He looked down on her, slowly slinking closer and closer until she butted against the edge of his bed. Instincts roared at her, she placed a hand on the thin fabric of his shirt and teased her fingers into the deep cut that ran down his chest. “If you want to play, all you have to do is ask. I don’t require threats of punishment to… be a good girl for you, my love.”

His grin spread like a shadow, silent and creeping, to twist his face. Lurching forward, he closed in on her, hands braced on the edge of the bed as she flopped down on her butt, almost bouncing on it. His smirk was elegant and dangerous. Just like him. “What a good little mistress you are… I’ll reward you for your spirit then, but I will remind you that I am no hero, Lumina. The man you read recorded in that journal is dead, along with all those other unfortunates…”

Those soft scarlet eyes reflected up at him, a sadness behind the shine of her lust. She licked her ruby lips and let a single fang bite into that pouting expression. Devotion incarnate, he grinned.

So many words filled her thoughts as she looked up at him. So many questions, all of them rooted deeply in her admiration for him and in the profound sadness she knew she saw behind his steely gaze. But every word, she swallowed down for now, parting her lips instead and pulling him by his collar to kiss her.

Devouring, consuming, his lips stole her air from her lungs and senses right from her mind. All she was now was need and desire, a whimper breaking from her throat as he pulled from her kiss all too soon. His look was pure lust, dark desire as he twirled his finger at her. An order to turn around. Obeying, she turned her back to him as she sat near the edge of the bed.

His breath was hot in her ear as he whispered against it. “Lie down, Little Light, and do try not to gag….”

Eyes shot wide, Lumina shivered as she scooted further into the center of the bed, laying on her back up at where he stood over her. His smile flashed at her upside down as she was, all the more thrilling and slightly sinister as she felt disoriented. Hands gripped under her arms and slid her just right, making her head hang off the ledge.

Her world practically spun, watching his fingers unlacing his breeches, that thick, hard, and veiny cock releasing from within to hang its shadow over her face. Fingers curled deftly around his shaft, stroking him harder, the other hand thrust a thumb inside her mouth to pull her jaw open gently. She could help but smile as his fingers stroked under her chin, that pink head of his cock slowly sweeping into her mouth and down her throat.

The undead beat of her heart pounded harder, already she could feel a light headed tingle as she felt him pull out slowly and thrust back in. Deeper this time. She laughed around his cock, feeling it twitching in her mouth as the vibrations tickled him.

Hips slowly pistoned back and forth. Every thrust sent the front of his hips to press against the top of her head, flooding her nose with the musk of his arousal. Lumina closed her eyes, keeping herself lost in the feeling of his cock in her mouth and his hands wandering over her neck and into her dress. Fingers latched around a breast, Astarion squeezed as he began to thrust harder into her mouth, leveraging his movements on that swaying fullness in her dress.

“Swallow around me,” he growled, “let me feel how hungry you are for your reward, even when you’ve been rather willful.”

She obeyed, her throat closing around his thrusts for a moment. A new magic pooled inside her mind and went taught, as if something was struggling to make itself known. A growl in his throat, and he just fucked her faster. “See, my naughty little minx, I am not some hero. A rake, a monster to some, a lover and master to you, Little Lumina….” He clawed his nails into her flesh, one around her breast, the other into the side of her throat where he gripped her now.

She needed to swallow again, drool running up her cheek as she hung suspended for his pleasure. A clutch of his fingers hard on her nipple, and she moaned with full voice. Suddenly, she tasted him, that sweet, warm bitterness that she knew so well filled her throat. As he groaned loudly over her, hands clawed hard into her skin, she felt a snap in her mind… images of Astarion, dressed in armor, blood spattered and beautiful, two daggers in hand as he tore through enemies…

She opened her eyes as he pulled his cock from her lips, letting a trail of cum dribble up her face. He stroked his finger through it, caressing her cheek. Palm at the back of her shoulder, he rolled her over and raised her up to his smirking mouth with two fingers under her chin. “Now…”

But she placed a hand on his lips to quietly hush him. “My love,” she whispered, looking up at him through her lashes. “You don’t have to be a hero to the City, or to the world, or in memory of anyone you lost. But you should know… you are a hero to me. You pulled me from a fate worse than death by giving me undeath.” She kissed his lips softly,”I will forever be thankful for that, my lord.”

His lips were frozen as she worked hers feverishly. Pulling away from her, he quickly stuffed his cock back into his trousers to run a hand through his hair. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner, my darling.” He tried to return to that velvety tone in his voice, that confident swagger in his stride, but he nearly choked and nearly laid himself out flat prone on the ground. “Be in the dining room sharply for me…”

With that, the door shut behind him. And Lumina was left perching on his bed, with more questions than answers and with a new tingling sensation in her mind.

It was different than his tendrils of compelling, brighter and stronger, a bridge and not a leash.

Perhaps… something would help her find the answer to what sort of magic he must have done to her. Whatever it was that gave her strength to endure sunlight, awareness to sense his innermost thoughts. Somewhere here… he must have the answer to his secrets. She just had to find them.

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pursuitseternal · 15 days

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z o o m i e s 🦇💨

#zoom zoom #chitter chitter #i’m so in love with him #batstarion #astarion #i am the night #bg3 astarion #astarion art #scratch bg3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion bg3 #my art

1K notes · View notes

pursuitseternal · 17 days

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“More Than Just A Little Death:” Heavy Angst with a “glimmer of a happy ending”Dark Lord Astarion x Enemy Tav

Ascended Astarion x Tav | E | 4.5K of angst with a glimmer of a happy ending

Screen grab from @venenum-cadaverinus 🖤

Summary: Centuries of darkness under the rule of the Vampire Ascendant come grinding to a halt. The one being who knows him is bound in his dungeon. What unfolds will hurt, with a glimmer of hope at the end. Mind the tags.

CW: This one will hurt, Heavy angst with a glimmer of a happy ending, Major Character Deaths, Tragedy, Hate Fuck, Sworn Enemies, Regret and True Feelings.

Ao3 link | Astarion Fic Masterlist

Centuries of darkness. Of soot and ash spewed into the sky to blanket the lands in thick, acidic shadow.

Lands coated in constant shadow at the command of the great mountains of fire he has constructed, a matter of dedication to his desire for power, his ambition to rule. Even diverting magma and sulfur from the Peaks of Flame was but a small step in his plans to darken Faerûn, to bring it to heel as he deserved.

These were the lands of the Ascendant, the lands made perfect for his rule, and the heart of his ever-reaching empire. Cities, empires, nations all fell before his strength, his armies of undead vast and allconsuming. Not even Lathander’s Blood or his Light or He himself could touch the forces and power of Lord Astarion. He was brutal, bloodthirsty, ruthless….

And always victorious.

His lands were a breeding ground of spawn and red dragons and other terrifying creatures of the dark. Legends recounted tales of blood and destruction and domination, that the Vampire Ascendant had a heartbeat but no beating heart.

The only one who knew that his heart really did once beat beneath his ribs was just brought to his dungeons, roaming in the shadows of his dark tower. As if he didn’t smell her, knowing that scent even after centuries. As if he didn’t know the dance of her pulse in moments of fear or determination or arousal…

Lord Astarion adjusted the clasps of his armor, for he knew better than to approach her unprotected and unarmed. Given the amount of weapons found on that still supple, lithe frame of hers, it was clear she had come behind enemy lines with one goal in mind.

To finish what she would have centuries before when she left his side.

Stepping into the barred cells and depths of darkness of his dungeons, his eyes fixed their gaze on her trembling in her chains. He let his feet fall loudly, let his breath sound a little louder than he was accustomed to in his own vampiric domain. But it was enough to draw her attention.

Enough to have her stare at him with all the vitriol and hate in her heart he remembered.

And it made him flash a toothsome smirk. “Come to kill me again, darling?”

She said nothing, her breathing just more ragged as he entered her cell, the rusting hinges shrieking as he pushed them open and shut them in his wake. Her nostrils flared, her arms jerked against the chains that hung her arms out wide from her shoulders.

“No warm words for your ancient lover?” he crooned, eyes glowing in the darkness as he rounded behind her. “Hardly like you to not use your tongue in my presence… for speaking or other things…” He ran his fingers lightly up her arm, the thin, dark material of her shift torn from the rough treatment she had already received just being thrown in here. His touch danced harder in the spots where her flesh poked through.

She held her mouth shut firmly, shuddering under his touch, eyes fixed on the cracks in the ceiling so as not to catch a glimpse of him.

“Afraid you’ll fall for me all over again, my dear, if you look at me?” he rasped just beside her pointed ear. A snarl in his throat, he pulled her by her chin, chains rattling as he forced that still beautiful face to meet his stare. She was fury incarnate, eyes dilated with hate, teeth grit to feel his touch on her skin, nostrils flaring with every enraged breath. Shaking herself free she sneered up at his smirk of victory. “Ah, that’s better, just like old times,”

“Unhand me,” she hissed with a snap of her teeth.

“And why would I do that?” Astarion purred, leaning closer to stroke her filthy cheek with the back of his knuckles. “I have you right where I want you, right where you always have been meant to be.”

“Your slave, your prisoner?” she spat, flinching again, eyes like coals burning with hate in the dungeon’s dark.

“At my side, under my touch, commanded by my control,” he looked at her, face lifting in an expression of pure sincerity.

“You mean trapped in the darkness you’ve brought over this beautiful realm…” she made herself reply.

He went silent for a moment, something in his crimson eyes hardened at her accusation. Something shifted in the way his fingers brushed her skin. The way they clamped onto her shoulder to pull her shaking body flush against his armored frame. “You left me in the dark, Tav, you took my sun, my stars and moon when you left me… I took the same from this precious realm you saved just to make it even.” His grip pinched harder, making a gasp unwillingly escape her chapped lips. “I’ve made this world almost as shadowed as your heart, darling.”

Summoning her strength, she resisted his clutch, making herself stand up all the taller despite his force. “You only remade the world in your own image, Astarion… Only doing what you most desire.”

“Oh, perhaps you’ve forgotten after all these centuries,” his touch suddenly wandered over her collarbone, caressing in its warmth as it stole around her neck. “If I allowed myself to do as I desire, you wouldn’t be in some dungeon dangling from chains, covered in grime or clothing even…”

That got her hissing in her breath and pulling at her chains. “You had your fun with my body before I realized how much you deceived me, Ast…” she shut her mouth, almost clipping her own tongue.

The Vampire cackled, low in his chest, a sound so foreign even to himself. “What’s the matter, Tav? Can’t bring yourself to mention my name?” He kept laughing at that low pitch and staccato tempo. He drew up behind her body instead, a fist in her hair to pull that gorgeous neck to the side so he could hiss right in her ear. “Afraid I’ll make you cry it from your lips again as you used to?”

She crammed her jaw shut, tugging her hardest to break from his ironclad hold. A warm, wet tongue lapped up the direction of her artery, and her body shivered, even as her face contorted with disgust. “You have power over the whole world now… all because you lost power over the one thing you wanted more.”

“And what was that, darling?” He hissed against her rapping pulse before dragging his fangs across that alabaster skin.

“Me,” she snipped her reply.

And it just made him give that low, staccato laugh of purest malice. Her words slammed against that darkness in his soul, but he ignored it. Yanking her head back, he made those piercing eyes look into his wicked smirk. “Oh, my delusional darling…” he tutted his tongue, chastising her like a naughty little schoolgirl. “Let me show you the extent of my power, and you tell me if you think it’s truly an equal replacement for you.”

A snap of his fingers, a spell muttered under his breath, and they vanished into thin air.

Winds raced around them, no more than mist, hot and cold, racing through light and dark until he stopped at the top of his grand tower. Tav gasped as her body reformed, freed of her shackles, but crouching on hands and knees as she tried to catch her breath. He stood over her, crowding her so closely, the edges of his scarlet cape fluttered in her face. The hot winds whipped around them both on the parapet, stinking of volcanic sulfur and blood… and she tried not to gag. Panting, it took all her effort to keep her stomach from hurling. And then, his hand slipped into view, offering her aid to get to her feet.

A breathless, disparaging laugh managed it way out from her burning lungs. A sound he did not take kindly to. That pale hand slipped almost invisibly into her hair, yanking her to her feet. “As much as I love the sight of you crumpled and kneeling at my feet, there is something I wish you to see…” he growled.

His other hand framed her chin, forcing her to survey his lands, the shroud of his darkness extending as far as the eye could see. And her eyes flared wide. Not one beam of sun pierced his cover of darkness, not one tree grew in the mud slicks and shadowed city that spanned his domain. All was black and scarlet and golden, refracting the fires of a million torches and bonfires and the fire mountains themselves that burned in the distance.

“Tell me it’s not awe inspiring, the magnitude of my power. Hordes of dragons at my command, legions of spawn and soldiers, an army worthy of the Ascendant…. There is no realm I cannot take, no land I cannot claim under my rule.”

He released her hair, her face, drawing back step to survey her reaction. “And it could have all been yours too…” he sneered. “Tch, what a waste.” Those crimson eyes scanned her body, her frame shaking and weak, her skin dirtied and scratched from his warriors’ rough handling. “How far you have fallen, Hero of Baldur’s Gate. Instead of this.. weak being you are now, I would have made you my queen, my own vampiric bride, with all the right to rule and command at my side.”

“All I see is desperation, Astarion. A man so insistent on chasing power and domination he denied himself two things he loved most.” Tav leveled her clear and shining eyes at him. “Freedom… and sunlight.”

She heard his fangs snap, a growl in his throat.

She continued, “And why would I choose to be with someone so desperate for power, he turns his beautifully scarred back on burning that which made him… happy…” Breath froze in her lungs, she could feel it. That creeping, ancient longing that never quite disappeared over centuries. That haunting that still plagued her mind and heart of times that were simpler and loving.

Times brimming with freedom and sunlight.

He bristled, pulling her roughly to spin, to land against his chest. “I’ll just ignore the fact that you still think of the scars on my body…” he sniggered. “I’ll take it to heart you once cared for my happiness… and not that you probably still touch yourself to the memory of my skin on your skin, the feeling of those scars under your nails as I fucked you…”

Her muscles frame thrashed to be free, to loosen the bonds of his arms around her waist. “I do no such thing…” she hissed. “Don’t you dare accuse me of something so heinous.”

“Yes… I am heinous, fucking me would be totally… heinous…” he snarled the word into her esr, the heat of his breath bathing her skin hotter than the volcanic blasts in the distance. “Fortunately, I still remember the heroine who once was more than willing to do such… heinous things… I wonder if those same things would make her skin crawl now.”

His lips caressed her neck, making her shudder in hatred and fight to breathe. “Let me go,” she hissed and thrashed. “Monster… villain…”

Fists locked around her upper arms like a vice. “Oh, you always knew just how to talk so sweetly to me, darling.” With that, he held her firm, like irons and tighter than chains. “You really do hate me, don’t you?” He hissed, gripping her chin and bringing her lips just to the precipice of his own. “And here I was, ready to offer you one more chance to be mine, my own consort… my right—“

Her lips pressed hard against his, all hatred and teeth and heat on her tongue as she closed that hair's width of a distance. Choking her with his tongue, Astarion couldn’t get enough of that taste. Centuries of deprivation, she clearly craved it too. Her hands struggled beneath his grip, a grip he eased once he realized she was removing his armor, piece by godsdamned piece. He would help if he wasn’t too suspicious.

But his need and desire considered those centuries of command and restraint. He pulled off plate after plate too until there were none left. Then, he took the rest of that feeble linen of her shirt in his fists and tore it full open.

Her flesh was bruised and scarred, centuries of fighting had hardened her, marking her with her own brand of dark obsession. Glancing down at Tav, he broke away from their kiss, both of them wild and panting. For an instant, she looked so soft in the glow of his domain. That dead ember in his core wavered with a hint of life, that longing and vulnerable need… but he snuffed it out. Shoving her hard and fast with all his vampiric speed until her back hit the outer wall of his grand tower.

That same softness was gone behind her eye too. Teeth bared, she gripped his cock painfully hard through his leathers. “Same old spawn. So easy to still reduce you to nothing but whimpering need,” she hissed.

“Enough,” he ordered, hands pulling her torn breeches to shreds until he sank his fingers inside her folds with a satisfied groan. If he closed his eyes, it could have been a tree in the middle of a secret grove that he shoved her against, but he kept his eyes wide open, watching the looks of hate and lust and agony bloom on her sullied face. He watched her head get thrown back against the wall of his fortress, watched her cheeks burst into a deep scarlet blush from desire and shame.

“Fuck… you,” she gave a feral hiss as he freed his cock and sank it inside her one last time. Her thighs wrapped tightly around his waist, and he showed no mercy, biting the air in his jaws as he fucked her.

Her head bangged against the stone walls, her back scratched against the rough black stone; it made her whimper, her voice such sweet music to his pointy ears as he rammed home deep inside her. Her hands clawed at his hair, yanking it at its roots to keep his fangs off her. It only made him chuckle low and villainous in his throat. As if she could stop him from biting. “Just couldn’t get enough of our late night trysts, could you, darling? Just couldn’t stay away from seeing my power? Now,” he hissed with venom in his voice, “now… I have… everything I wanted.” He gave a particularly brutal snap of his hips, making her clutch his body and scream in his ear. “Companionship and a little death…”

Tav laughed—laughed—-full throated and musical as he rode her into the wall. Astarion sneered, raising his head to look into those pricing determined eyes. “This is your everything… this?” she rasped, growing breathless with her own pleasure.

Strong, skilled fingers slipped between their bodies so he could claw and squeeze her breast. “Yes, this. My kingdom, my power, my enemy laid low… or just laid.”

She snared at the barb, every muscle in her body shuddering in consuming, blinding pleasure as she came. Her body had already given her away, though, she panted and moaned, her hands hugging at his neck instead of throttling or yanking.

If he only just closed his eyes… he could feel it again. Feel it too.

With a grunt, he shuddered, biting into his own arm so as not to pierce his skin, to give her that poison of his power and his venom to turn her into his. Not yet. Not until she was begging for more, for more of this, of him. Finally, his heart slowed, the pounding inside his head grew gentler. And he kissed her sooty cheek. “I’ve missed this…” he let the words that had reverberated in his mind since he laid eyes on her again out from his lips.

Pulling away, he gave a little smile, the kind where just his lips turn, equally and softly. The kind of smile he had given her centuries ago in his tent, on the road, before all… this. Turning his back, he looked out over his lands, tucking his cock back inside his trousers, savoring that scent of their coupling, faint as it was over the stench of volcanic air. He took a deep breath, that smile creeping across his face wider. “You know, darling, I—” He turned sharply, his hand twisting in a flourish….

Something long and sharp and metal sank into his chest. Tav’s eyes were wide, her hand firmly gripped on that long metal weapon. A stake. Summoned by magic, must have been.

“I…” she faltered, watching the lights in his eyes flicker, that haunting crimson glow starting to dim back to the dull and deep red she had once fallen in love with.

“You think I haven’t been staked before,” he gave an effort to laugh, that deep and sinister chuckle, but now it ended in a burst of coughing. Crumbling, he sank to the stone floor of the wall.

Two arms caught him, holding him on her knees as his body registered the pain in his chest. The numbness. Tav looked down at him, her face hard but not unfeeling.

Something warm and wet slipped from his lips. His fingers trembled as he touched it, pulling them away, their pale tips covered in blood. “You always knew how to make such grand gestures of love, darling, especially after such a rigorous… reunion.” He gave her body another long scan, her chest heaving and her skin blushing with emotion and exertion.

A bitter smile turned one corner of her mouth. “How else was I going to get you out of your armor, Astarion, aside from sex. You haven’t changed all that much.” She twisted the metal in his chest a bit deeper, blood soaking to the stones beneath them. “You may have burned the world, Astarion, but you burned my heart to ashes first. You called me unworthy, an ingrate, a waste and disappointment…” Her face leaned in closer to his. “You said I would regret leaving you more than anything I lived to regret when in reality… I only regret not coming for you sooner.”

“I said many things, including that the greatest crimes in this world are committed for love…” he tried to sweep in arm to gesture to his domain. But he hissed in agony. “I lied before, you know… I did this for you, to sate my hunger for you, to replace my lust for you with bloodlust for the world.”

“What…” Tav replied, taken aback. Her voice sounded eerily similar to words that still haunted her from their past. “Why? Why would you ever speak of… love?” she sneered.

“Because, I never stopped loving you… whatever version of love this dark and beating heart is capable of, that is…” he burst into another fit of coughing. His hand tried to grip the metal in his chest, even as his legs began to grow numb. He knew, as he brushed his fingers against it, this was no ordinary stake. But he was the Vampire Ascendant, even magic had its limits…. Surely.

He reached a hand for her trembling cheek. “Nothing is too late you know, not when a being like me… like you… can have eternity.” He sighed, feeling her warm, wet tears starting to leak from her clear eyes. Gently, he dried them with a soft sweep of his thumb as she leaned into his touch. The first time in centuries. Since his Ascension. “Stay. Be mine,” he whispered, voice thick with gravely need and wet with pain. Blood dripped from his chin.

“I’ll never be your spawn,” she looked down to the space between their bodies, both their chests heaving.

“Queen then,” his hand shook as she held her cheek tighter, trying to pull those quivering lips to his. “Think of how much fun it would be, darling. You can try to kill me every day…” he smirked weakly, “why not a little more death, everyday.”

She gave him a cold smile, watching as he noticed how his hand shook, the taste of blood thickening in his mouth. “I’m afraid I’ll only ever need this one attempt to kill you, Astarion.”

Those eyes forced themselves wider, the metal in his chest thrumming with magic.

“Infernal silver, a gift from our old friend Raphael,” Tav’s lips turned down, her eyes unable to meet his again, even as her tears flowed freely now.

He gave a laugh, a bit more blood coming down his chin. “That must have cost you more than a pretty piece of gold, darling.”

“My soul,” she jutted her chin out. “You’re not the only one to take a deal with a devil.”

He laughed, much weaker now. “Then this is it… you did it, my darling. And I have one last chance to ask you for a chance to talk…” He smirked, pulling her lips against hers just to feel her breath. “I just feel… awful. Nothing about this was simple or easy or meant to be, but I wish it was with all that’s left of my heart.” He winced, a wrack of pain shaking his body as he laid on her lap. “All I had to do was forget just how deeply I had fallen for you…”

He groaned as the pain grew too much. Only to feel her hand on his face now, her warmth steadying him, focusing him. “Which is where your dark and sinister plan fell apart, hmm?” She placed a kiss on his lips as they grew pale. “Same for me… I… I wish I didn’t come. I wish you had told me of your love before I…”

She choked on the words, readying her fist to pull the stake out. But he stopped her. “No leave it,” he ordered. “It will buy us a few more precious moments so I don’t simply bleed out all over your beautiful legs.”

Tav wished she could laugh, wished she had done things differently. “Now I don’t deserve any of these words, Astarion…” she let a sob escape from her lungs. “I have given you nothing…”

“No,” Astarion interrupted with a sudden and frantic burst of strength. “I am nothing without you… I never have been, darling. Even with power and realms on their knees. I only ever… ever wanted you. You… complete me.” The smile on her face was balm to his mortally wounded soul—a soul that would soon end up in the hells for all he had done. But for now, he would bask in the heavens of her arms and sun himself in the light of her smile. “I would have been worthy of you… or at least tried harder to be.”

Tav watched as her tears fell on his own pale face, his skin growing corpse-cold slowly but surely the longer she held him. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” She began to choke on the slick of tears in her throat. “Why didn’t you say.. something when you first saw me?”

“Because all you saw… all you knew was the monster you believed me to be. And so… that’s what I was for you. You wouldn’t have listened to words of love from a monster. At best I thought you’d say no again. More likely…” he hissed, holding the silver stake in his chest, “you’d run… a stake through my ribs…”

Tav gave a single, tear-soaked laugh, “You… foolish vampire.”

“You leaving me was… the thing I regret… more than any other thing I lived to regret…” A piercing cry, from his slacked mouth and he pulled the stake from his chest, blood gushing and flesh rending, wet and gory. “Looks like… I won’t be living to regret it for much longer…”

The ground shook, the wavering orange light in the distance from the volcanos began to burst brighter. Erupting with blistering heat, rocks and ash spewed into the air. And yet, above them, the shadows parted, the faintest beams of light from the sun began to seep through the cover of darkness.

The power of the Ascendant faltered as his breathing grew shorter, as his heart began to slow.

“I can’t, Astarion,” Tav held him tighter. “I can’t live with this regret now either.” Her chin shuddered as she sobbed. “I shouldn’t have killed you.”

“You should have,” he smiled weakly. “You gave me back what I denied myself… freedom and sunshine…” He looked up into the streaks of pale blue and golden beams that crept through more and more. “And you gave me that feeling of love once more…”

He pulled her face against his, his hand and lips cold once more against her skin. “This is a gift, I won’t forget it.” He began to close his eyes.

“Wait,” she shook him, clinging tightly so as not to let go. As if she could keep his soul bound to his bones. “Take me too. Poison me. Bite me.”

“Why?” Was all he could manage to croak.

“I’m bound for the hells too.” That silver stake in the blood beside them was more than enough damnation for her, too.

He gave a single, feeble laugh. “I was going to go this alone… but…” he hissed as the pain began to take him. “Come here then, darling.”

She placed her neck against his lips, those ancient scars from his fangs still tangible against his tongue as he licked her first. As he always had done. With one final grunt, he bit, letting his poison fill her veins as he managed a mouthful of her blood.

Rich and intoxicating, familiar and simply the best. The stuff of his dreams and nightmares. His world dimmed, his body too numb to taste her anymore. He took one last breath, gave her one last smirk. “You’ve never tasted so sweet… darli—“

He was gone, limp in her arms.

Not that Tav noticed, her own body numb and limp as she lost herself to the poison in her veins.

The earth cracked open, the clouds dispersed, and centuries of darkness and blood turned to mist in the light of the sun once more.

Light and sun and wind felt good on his essence as Astarion’s soul bound for the hells, ready to pay its price of 7000 for centuries of empty power and loneliness. But as his spirit flew, it tingled with recognition… the touch of another soul tangling with it.

One that knew him, that reverberated with pain and loss, with affection and connection—soul to soul.

No longer left in darkness as embers.

A spark of love that had laid dormant between them flamed back tenfold, as these souls streaked across the sky to their fates. Together.

Author’s Note: IM SORRY!! Sometimes you just need to purge the angst as a writer. Write some hate fuck and have a good cry

The next one will be toothrotting fluff to overcompensate 💞💞💞

Out of curiosity: scale of 1-5 🗡️, how badly did it hurt?

#ascended astarion #astarion angst #tragedy #major character death #Tav x ascended astarion #ascended Astarion x tav #astarion fic #astarion fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic

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pursuitseternal · 20 days

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Tensions break in this NSFW update to “In the Monster’s Shadow:”

Ascended Astarion x Shadowheart | E | 1.7K

Summary: left to her own devices and freedoms, Shadowheart finds solace alone in the gardens of the Palace… until she realizes that being alone isn’t what will soothe her. But he might…

CW: angst with feelings, vulnerable and inebriated Ascendant, outdoor smut, PiV, regret with true feelings

Previous Ch | Ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 5…

⚜️🖤⚜️🖤⚜️🖤⚜️🖤⚜️🖤⚜️🖤⚜️🖤⚜️🖤⚜️

Sunlight. Warm, pure, unadulterated sunlight. It finally made Shadowheart smile, feeling at peace, and she could forget the walls of the palace where she was… Well, she hesitated to say trapped now.

She had so much freedom now, her room remained in the cellar, as he called it. Not dungeon. And she could explore the grounds freely, the walled garden brimming with flowers and fountains and little tucked-away benches was by far her favorite. Even if she could hear the din of life from the Upper City just on the other side. It was her sanctuary, bathing in the spring sun. Whatever limit he had on her magic extended out here too, since of course she tested it out immediately.

Strangely, it didn’t bother her. Not when he had made such a beautiful place… not when there was so much sun and fragrance and tranquility. And besides, she hadn’t seen him in days. Almost a tenday by now.

She hated that annoying tug in her gut now, his words haunting her still from when last she saw him. The only one… he had called her.

“Ugh,” she grunted at herself, at the way it made her feel… special. That self-loathing tried to gnaw at that ember that just wouldn’t snuff out. That feeling she found in that moment of being… wanted… appreciated… desired…

“No!” She yelled at herself, covering her small, pointed ears as if she could shut out her inner thoughts. “Fuck you, Astarion,” she hissed to herself.

An inane giggle sounded from behind her… from the direction of the palace. “Fuck me? Oh, so now, she’s asking for it to happen, is that it?” That velvety voice was thick with alcohol, his usually exact and dulcet tones sticking on his slurring tongue.

She spun her head around, her tight braid whipping her own body as she faced him. Sure enough, goblet in hand, Astarion slunk near-silently from some double doors in the side of the palace. “How long have you been watching me from your lair?”

“You’re one to accuse me of lurking… given you had to go traipsing around my walls and battlements…” his fingers of his free hand grabbed for her braid and twisted it around his palm, “not the only one curious about the Ascendant, but certainly the only one foolish enough to end up here…” His voice dropped low and he leaned over her seated form, his breath rich with fragrant wine.

“You… reek…” she hissed, pinching her nose and sliding away from his looming presence.

“Like wealth… power…” he rolled his shoulders to flex his muscles and spilled his pricey wine in the process.

“You smell like the Elfsong used to after closing…” she wrinkled her nose in disgust, sliding away from the splatters of red wine.

That made him draw up short, his eyes struggling to focus at the mention of… those times. His gaze grew distant, that constant tweak at the corner of his eyes softened.

Shadowheart paused, holding her breath for a moment before she whispered, “Do you remember how those nights were the best… music whining from the tavern below, Halsin whittling animals…”

She watched his jaw clench and release about five times. “Karlach… making up dances for us to all try…” His eyes shut tight, as if he forbade them to show his turmoil, his weakness, or maybe even tears. “Those days seemed so much…”

“Simpler?” Shadowheart offered, not even noticing that her body leaned closer towards him. Her eyes scanned that refined black silk shirt, the way it clung to his muscles and frame, the way it tucked into the band of his stitched scarlet trousers.

“Defenseless,” he suddenly turned his head sharply to meet her soft green eyes. His gaze was that same bloodied shade of crimson, that same piercing intensity. “We did so many foolish things just to bury our fear,” his voice dropped to a snarl, haughty tension in his neck returning stronger than ever. “And now, I never have to be afraid again.” He gave a confident toss of his head, sipping from his chalice as his fingers went white around the stem.

“You seem so sure of that,” Shadowheart couldn't help but tease, that same prickly tone from their days on the road. “I think it’s better to be afraid in good company like we used to than to bury it down deep alone, never…”

His lips silenced her. The clatter of his cup broke the stillness of the garden as he kissed her, hard and fast and possessive. She squirmed at first, noises of surprise muffled under those thick and wine-tasting lips. It felt so good… he was probably too drunk to remember anyway, the thought passed her mind as she decided to kiss him back.

His hands grasped at the back of her head, pulling her inescapably from his working mouth. She tasted blood, though hers or his, she couldn’t tell with all the sucking and nipping they both did. His hands, almost claw-like and strong, pulled her flush against him, the thin silk of his shirt betraying the heat of his own skin, a heat she knew was matched by her own as it blistered through her own light chemise. He swayed roughly, his balance compromised, and all it took was a little shove from her hands on his chest to land them both in the grass at their feet.

He broke from her kiss looking up with hazy, lust-clouded eyes, his hand wrapping around her long braid as he smirked. With yank, he pulled her closer, her body seeking the warmth and pressure of his between her thighs. That one breath was all they took.

Mouths locked again, all fangs and pants and sighs. He tore into her shirt, ripping it open enough for her breasts to catch the sun. A snarl on her lips, her fingers deftly freed his cock from its confines. No thoughts, it was just heat and need in her veins and shared on his breath as she hiked up her skirts and sank onto his cock. Fangs bit her lip, keeping her bent over him even as she rode him. Her pants of pleasure defend her own ears, the loud wet sounds of their bodies joined making her spine tingle with lust as she finally let him claim her this way.

There was no logic, no coherent sensation in her mind. Only heat and desire as the floodgates of their lust and need shattered at last. Tendays of pent up desire finally pulsed and released, coursing through both their bodies.

The world spun around him, Astarion grunted at the force of her bucks, his body unfamiliar with unbridled lust of late. It had been… Well memories escaped him. Thoughts escaped him now that he was buried deep in that warm, wet pressure. Her breath was hot in his mouth, her blood on her tongue delicious… the grass on his back, the weight of her body. His tired eyes stayed shut, lost in the waves of sensation.

For that moment, they were back in the Emerald Grove, their own little piece of nowhere. Two hands gripped at his shoulders… rolling playfully… the skin of her fresh neck pressed against his eager lips and fangs.

Blood poured into his mouth as he clamped down on her neck, starved as he was for her essence, for attention… for touch. He groaned as he took all of her in, through his mouth and his cock. Her mouth hung slack in constant sighs of pleasure, her hips rolling to match his punishing pace. Nails, legs, hair, hands… she was everywhere and all his. Waves built between them, the perfect synchronization of their hips and pants as they fucked in the dirt.

Thighs clenched around his hips, shirt torn asunder, Shadowheart hung on for dear life. Bright sun warmed her flesh, but he was scalding, burning her up with that long-craved friction of his body on her, inside her. Shattering, bursting, she came, unashamedly twitching and writhing and moaning in her too-long-denied ecstacy. It was tantalizing and dangerous… not unlike when she watched these same lustful choices play out so long ago.

But gods, it felt better than it looked.

Especially the part where his hips snapped harder than ever, his lips barely freed from drinking her down as he growled right in her ear. Three more erratic thrusts, and she knew he filled her, his body collapsing and shuddering and grunting. A few pants of air still thickly laced with their desire passed between their lips, a slight smile on his face as he shifted slightly.

“I’ve missed…” he started to whisper before his eyes snapped open. That softness evaporated, cracking over with resolve and anguish and rage in an instant. He scrambled off her, his voice instantly cold and cruel again. “Get inside, Princess,” he growled as he turned his back, stuffing his cock and shirt back inside the band of his trousers. “That was more than enough of a session for you today.” He rounded, merciless in his gaze as she scrambled to close her blouse. “I’ll ignore the fact your twisted words tried to manipulate me into…”

“What?” She spat, scrambling from the dirt. “Me? Manipulate you?” She scoffed with all the ire in her soul. “That’s rich, not to mention a lie.” Hands clenched into fists at her sides, and she longed to cast any of her spells, just to get at him. “You know what’s really sad, Astarion, really pathetic?” She seethed as he glared at her from the doorway to his study. “All this time, you aim to torture me, give me pain and make me submit, and yet, by doing so, aren’t you just pushing yourself deeper into your own torment?”

He said nothing, muscles in his jaw clenched painfully tight. “You’ll pay for such insolence when next I find you.”

“You can try, but you know I’m right, Vampire. You torture yourself far worse than anything you could do to me.”

Her accusation hung like frost in the air, a coil of tension that snapped tight between them. And in that moment, she could have sworn that glimmer of longing shined in his crimson eyes.

And before he could say another word, he rounded on his heel and retreated back inside again.

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pursuitseternal · 23 days

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✨Announcement✨

The Tav/Durge Portraits were a limited time promo, but seeing how much people have liked them and how many requests I'm getting, I am making them a permanent offering to my list of available commissions! Due to increased demand, the price will be set at $50.

My current wait time is 4+ weeks. If you sign up through the form below it will put you on a waitlist, and I will contact you when I get to about a week out for payment request.

BG3 YCH Portraits Sign Up form

Please note my comm prices have overall been adjusted as of 3/23/24. More information can be found on my Carrd.

🙏Thank you to everybody supporting my art🙏

#ych commission #ych art #art commisions #tav art #durge art #commission #portrait commission #bg3 art #marimosalad

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pursuitseternal · 23 days

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“Seek Me:” naughty Hide and Seek for you and your Vampire Lord in “The Rogue You Were”

Ascended Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3.4 K of predator/prey, hide and seek double smut

Summary: To fight the impending ennui of politics, you play a game, just a simple hunt, a sort of dark and perverted hide and seek. Winner claims the spoils, and the spoils are always… delicious.

CW: predator/prey dynamics, perverted hide and seek, slight exhibitionism (twice), rough sex, possessive sex, double cream pie, (surprise) carriage sex

Ao3 link | Astarion fic Masterlist

Chapter 11… Seek Me

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Shadows stretch across the palace halls, bending and misshaping anything familiar. That creeping memory of sneaking in here years ago to stop the Rite that made you and your love what you are still niggles in your thoughts and nightmares sometimes.

Times like this, you wonder why Astarion insisted on living in such a place of past torment. Even though the decor was brighter and the crimsons more vibrant, it didn’t matter in the dark.

All looked the same cloaked in shadows and covered in night.

Your undead heart pounds, it's slow and hard as your breasts rise and fall rapidly with your breaths. Why… why did you agree to let him go first? Some little game to break the ennui. A simple game of hide and seek. But you should have known, hiding and seeking was more than that in an ancient ancestral, vampiric palace.

And it was always more than that with Astarion, your love, your sire, your husband.

You keep your eyes open for his glowing red gaze… your ears train the ground for his near silent step… he’s far more practiced at all being a vampire entails. He can hold his breath, slow his heart, move like death incarnate.

Your only advantage is that you know the palace better. All these days spent overseeing renovations as he attended council meetings and travels, you had more than a few tricks up your sleeve. As long as he didn’t catch you first.

Darting onto the balcony, you keep to the shadows and hug the wall. If you can just make it inside the hall, you’re sure he won’t find you for quite some time.

After all, it’s just a little game to play while your guests are still departing, admiring your new palace. It’s only a matter of time now before you both need to leave for some grand soirée, another of many evenings wrapped up in tedium and the boring banter of politics and power. This game is to spice up the evening ahead. And instead, it just makes your heart race.

Winner or loser, you know you’re just going to end up split on his cock, gasping and pleasured wherever you are. Wherever it is he finds you.

You just hope it’s not within earshot of these nobles…these poor, pathetic souls who wander to look at your splendorous home. You hear their voices from down below, lightening your step to go unnoticed. Muffled noises grow closer. Hands shaking, you know that hidden door is here… behind this panel, your hands skim over the ornate wallpaper, searching with fumbling touch for the switch. Noises grow louder, and suddenly you’re aware of the milling crowd on the other side of the railing. They can just catch you from the corners of their judgemental eyes, their ears just within reach enough to hear you if you were to make enough noise…

You wonder if they can also hear those footsteps approaching. Astarion. Hunting you down, seeking you in your fun and twisted game.

Trembling, ragged breaths come from your mouth as you finally hear the click of the hidden switch, the panel shifting in the wall to reveal total and utter darkness. You smile, relieved….

Until two glowing crimson eyes open to look down on you from within. Quicker than breath, he’s turned you around, dagger to your throat and arms pinning you against his chest as he laughs so quietly in your ear. “Shhhh, not a sound… my treasure.” He grinds his prominent erection on the curve of your ass through your thin silken gown. “Not if you want those Patriars and Council members to hear how much of a slut you are for your lover…”

You swallow the sound that longs to break from your throat. His hand, the one that isn’t skating the blade of his dagger tantalizingly over your neck, skates up your thigh, rucking up your skirts to reveal your bare legs and curves. Just the way he likes you.

“You want that, want to show off how much I crave you, don’t you…?” you hiss the question, pulling at his arm enough to free you, but he only retaliates with a smile on his lips.

Clutching you all the harder, he spins you both into the wall to press you into that elegant wallpaper. That dagger blade is stowed away, replaced by his hand at your neck. His laugh is laced with pure devilry—he lives for this. That hand returns to hiking up your skirt until you feel nothing but the fine, supple leather of his trousers grinding against your ass. “You question if I’d like the powerful men of this city to know that its Hero against the Netherbrain whimpers for me almost every hour of the day?” You feel his hands quickly, dexterously unlace those leathers. That thick, hot head of his cock teases against your ass, slipping beneath your thighs as he spreads you wider with his knee. “You wonder if I’m proud that my beloved longs for me always, and I for her?”

You stifle your groan against the rich and ribbed texture of the wallpaper. That cock head teasing into your entrance just enough to make you shake, to make you press against the wall harder to lift your hips more for him. A low growl shakes against your sensitive ear as he approves, that cock teasing inside you just a little bit more. “Tell me, my treasure, how hard did you try to hide from me? That couldn’t have really been your best…” he taunts you, both with that hot and blunted head in your folds and his words in your ear. “Once I’m finished claiming my victory this round, you’ll just have to try again you know…”

Shivering, you nod, your cheek rubbing that expensive paper, its lush colors too bright to have your face shoved against it. “Oh no, I was barely trying, my love,” you lie just to taunt him all the same. “I just wanted you to claim your victory, worried you’d take too long for how badly I need you.”

“Such pleasing words from my lust-driven consort,” he chuckles, quiet enough for your ear alone. “Such a slut, just for me, is that it?” he rasps as he shoves himself deep into you at last, fangs sinking into your neck all at once. “What kind of lover would I be to deny you that?”

He sucks harder at your neck, hips pistoning against your rear deliberately and smoothly. You physically bite your tongue and cheek to keep from moaning, the hard won prize of this game going to both of you, that desire flooding your bond. Thighs shaking, you know you won’t last much longer, not with the thrill of being just out of eyesight from the dozen or so guests that still mill around. “I look forward to you trying to beat me again,” he growls in your ear, words staggered and stuttered with his thrusts. “But we better finish this round before anyone suspects the Vampire Lord and his Consort of being so madly in love they can’t keep their hands or sexes off each other, hmm?”

A small whine escapes your self-imposed gag on your lips, and it makes him laugh low and dangerously in his throat. “What a good little consort,” he nips at your ear. “Just can’t help yourself. So clever to get caught…” he groans. With that thickening inside you, that gravel in his voice, you know he’s growing close.

The thought alone makes you come undone, back arching, your fangs breaking your own lip’s flesh. It takes every ounce of self-restraint to keep yourself from mewling and screaming as you burst in heat. And all the while, he’s groaning and rasping in your right ear. Shivers run down your back as he grunts harder in that sensitive spot against your neck. Erratic, hard thrusts jab deep inside you, his cock twitching as it pulses and fills you.

“That scent will make it harder for you to hide this time, you know my treasure,” he emphasizes with a deep breath right against your neck. “Your blood, my cum, your arousal… You’re such a mess, marked so well. There’s nowhere inside this palace I won’t be able to track you down, you know…”

You smirk, spinning in his arms to rest your back against the wall. “We’ll see about that…” you tease, breathless and overconfident. He just smirks, that edge of arousal and intrigue darkening the deep crimson of his narrowing eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll do your best, my darling little vampling,” he kisses your lips longingly, a little playful nip at the end, the mingling of iron on your tongues from your blood. He breaks away, eyes wide, frightening as he wraps his hand around your throat, your skin still slick from blood. “We have half an hour before we must depart for the evening, my pet. You had better not delay us, you know.”

“You wish me to let you win in that time so we remain… punctual?” you tease.

“I’m just stating the obvious,” he shakes his head very slowly as he smirks wide enough to bare his fangs, “I won’t be pleased if I have to leave without you just because you decided to be clever.”

“I… am… clever,” you taunt, tapping him on his nose with each insolent word.

Astarion pulls his hand away from your throat, eyes glinting, breath still. “Then I’ll let you get a head start, my clever girl…” he leans his fanged face into yours, “so you had better run.”

You stumble away, thighs slick as he watches you break out into the evening on the balcony again. He just laughs, your scent too strong in his nose. Voices from below call up to him, those guests wishing to impart a few more good wishes to their host before their departure for the next gathering. Astarion shoves his cock back in his trousers, perfecting his appearance before leering down at the nobles form over that thick railing. Those mortals so literally far beneath him. “A fair evening to you,” he calls with a flourish. “My lady and I will see you at the festivities anon. A few matters of home to wrap up before the evening, I’m afraid.”

He sniffs the air, the stink of these guests cloud his senses. Striding down the stairs, he tries to pick up your scent, but there are just too many bodies, too much stale wine and general stink. Once the door is shut to the palace, once he is truly alone, he tears through room after room, searching and sniffing. His mind tugs against yours. “Where are you… darling….?” he growls down your bond, but you know better than to answer. “Trying so hard to be clever, is that it?”

He sneers to himself as he sweeps silently through bedchambers and ballrooms and galleries. He presses against the walls at cracks and hidden doors to scent you within the tunnels. The clock starts to chime, and Astarion hisses in frustration. He hears the carriage rumbling outside the main doors.

“On the gods, darling,” he hisses outloud and down their bond. “If you don’t come out right now, I will be sorely disappointed.” He huffs, grabbing his gloves and cane perched neatly in the foyer. He pauses for a moment, tilting his pointed ear to listen to his palace, scanning his domain for her. “You think you’ve won?” he snips, irritated and irked as he starts out the door towards the waiting coach. It’s black paint trimmed with gold shines in the torchlight as night falls. “I assure, my darling, if you don’t come this moment to the coach for the evening’s gathering…”

He lets the threat hang in the air. Not even a tremor of a laugh from her end of their bond. Teeth grinding, he launches from the door into the gathering dark of night. He opens the carriage door with a shout for the driver to make haste. Before the door has even shut behind him, his team of raven black mares is off through the Upper City.

Astarion flops down on the elegantly cushioned seat of his coach. His cane in his hands nearly breaks in the strength of his angered grip. “How dare she…” he hisses into the dark as the carriage bumps and sways over the streets. That little window lets the wind whistle in. Usually he enjoys the breeze on his face, but now, tonight, it annoys the hells out of it. He slams it shut

Suddenly, without that breeze, a scent reaches his nose. Blood… arousal…

“Oh… my love…” your voice tickles his mind.

The couch sways around a corner, something shuffling near his feet. A hand shoots up to grab the hem of his jacket, yanking him towards the floor.

“Darling…” he purrs down at you as your eyes lock into his, your fangs must be glinting in the dim light in the carriage.

“I win,” you gloat, your body pinned beneath him on the floor of your carriage. His legs are already spreading yours, hands already roughly pulling your skirts up to your waist, yet you feel like the victor. The prey finally catches the predator in her neat little trap.

“Clever little consort, setting her snare so neatly for me to wind up between your legs…” he rasps, his body bumping and swaying against you in time with the movements of your coach. But then he begins to add a few more deliberate thrusts of his clothed and hardened cock against your already used and soaking folds. “What is the prize you wish to claim, my treasure?”

“You know my favorite prize,” you purr, catching the edge of his pointed ear in your mouth for a suck, one that deafens him for the moment from the rumble of your coach. A moan slips out from his lips far louder than would be dignified.

His ear slips from your mouth as he turns his head, a snarl in Astarion’s throat as he catches your chin. “Then it is everything you shall receive…” he growls, “when I decide to finally give it to you…” he teases you darkly, those hips grinding against your folds mercilessly. He’s heavy on your core, the bumping and jostling of the carriage stealing your breath as he sometimes times his thrusts with the unpredictable up-down. It only makes him laugh harder and capture your lips in his when he squashes you so completely.

“Maybe if you had just played the game properly, you wouldn’t be feeling so trapped like the little prey you are for me, my little treat…” he nips into your neck, just a small bite. Enough to draw blood by the mouthful for him to feast on.

“I did play, and I won,” you chuckle low in your throat, reaching between our hips to blatantly touch myself. “Maybe it’s time you paid respects to the victor this round?” You tease him, acerbic and haughty as he hears your fingers toying through your own slick.

Astarion gives that low and wicked laugh, relishing your defiant spirit. “I don’t think you want anything respectful done with you…. Do you my treasure?” He can’t stiffle a groan as he teases his own cock head through your sopping seam. Over the rattling of your wooden coach cobblestones, you hear the wet sounds of him playing inside you. It sends shivers down your spine and makes you bite your lips enough to draw your own blood to paint your lips scarlet.

You groan, the carriage lurches around a corner making you both roll to the side. A wicked laugh in your throat, you take full advantage of the surprise. Momentum swings you around, until you are the one on top, in a second, a little rise of your hips, and you sink his cock deep inside you.

Astarion bares his fangs and hisses at the sudden warmth and wet that sucks him in, his head now bouncing on the floor. You ride him mercilessly. “Such a good prize you are…” you tease him, gripping his chin to make him look at you. “Nothing like having the Vampire Ascendant at my mercy for once,” you flaunt your victory.

“You think yourself so clever and….” he starts, but you press a finger against his mouth before sticking two of them inside his mouth as you shush him.

“Hush,” you smirk, glowing in your moment of power. You swirl your fingers around his mouth, grazing over his wet and sucking tongue, pricking your skin on his razor-fangs. “Just let your clever Consort have this victory once,” you smile, pouting down at him a bit as you pull your fingers from his salivating lips.

“Very well, my darling,” he growls, “but at least you could let your loving Ascendant lord sit up so his head isn’t addled by the roads.”

You snicker, “Of course. We wouldn’t want to have your mind any more befuddled by my glorious win.” Your smirk is feral and arrogant. You ease off of him, watching with a knowing and careful eye as he slides himself up to rest against the door of the carriage.

He tosses his head, your bodies still joined perfectly, the coach still rocking with that extra, insatiable friction that moves your sexes on their own. He smirks as you ride over a massive bump, one that fairly throws you into the air to slide down his cock with more force than you can give. You gasp as it makes you land squarely on him, cock head slamming your cervix.

The grin on his face grows delightfully sadistic as it twists those sharp features. You see his ears twitching as he listens closely to the rumbles of the coach, smirk winding higher as he lifts you up in time with the coach to slam you back down as it falls….

You grit your teeth and scream through them with a smile as he fills you, sharp and suddenly. “Get riding, my clever treasure,” he chuckles as he pulls you in for a kiss, “or these roads and I will do it for you.”

You give him a glare, more amorous than angry, your mouth slack as you buck your hips with abandon. You bite your lip as you move, the vibrations of the coach send you barreling towards your bliss so quickly. Hard and fast, your hands grip into the stitching of his jacket, his breath hot at the base of your neck. His gaze burns your skin, watching the way your breasts jiggle and move right before his eyes as you are thrown around, at the mercy of the coach’s movements.

He groans, the pressure so great inside you both, you feel it searing between you and crashing down your mental bond. With one breath, you clench around him, his hands grip into your waist to keep you steady as he tries to snap his hips. It bursts inside you, the pressure and pleasure erupting through your core as you reach your peaks as one. He places a breathless kiss on the soft skin of your bosom. “I do so love when you win too, my perfect prey and equal hunter…” he pants against your flesh. “I’ll gladly let you claim your victory from me…” his left brow arches rakishly and teasing, “but only when you’ve earned it, my darling…”

“Hmmm,” you hum, irritated and yet shivering in pleasure. “Just admit, I’m just as good…”

Suddenly the carriage rumbles to a stop, and you lock eyes with Astarion. Voices approach from behind the door, and your two sets of crimson eyes flare wide a moment before the door pulls open behind him.

He grunts as he spills backward, unceremoniously dangling out the door. His head hangs over the edge of the coach, his fanged smile wide and grinning as he stares into the crow upside down, while your hands grabbing furiously at your skirts to hide your sexes still throbbing and intertwined. He laughs that low and rumbling giggle, quite the sight as other guests pause to stare at the Vampire Ascendant indulging within his own private coach. “Well,” he chortles, sitting up to give a bit of privacy as you slide off his lap, “there isn’t any use hiding our love any longer…” Astarion nips at your neck playfully as he refastesns his trousers. “If they sought a glimpse into the loving depravities of the Ascendant and his consort, they certainly found it.”

You giggle, the rush of being so on display racing through your nerves. Carefully you follow him out of the coach, both of you straightening your clothes as if nothing happened. “And you wanted to play your games thinking tonight would be boring,” you rasp into his ear.

He stops in the middle of the grave path and pulls you hard into him, his kiss all lips and fangs and tongue down your throat. Hiding nothing of your passion from the spectators. “Nothing is boring when I’m with you.”

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pursuitseternal · 28 days

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“Aeterna Amantes”

Cordehlia and Astarion, “Our Blood is Thicker:” Lost lovers… tortured souls… recovered soulmates until the end of time💞

🎨 @marimosalad check her profile or her X account and nsfw X account for more

Read their love story here 👇

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pursuitseternal · 1 month

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Chapter 2: Jealousy, Lust, and Satsifaction in “A Night with the Ascendant:”

Ascendant Astarion x Spawn (Lumina) | E | 7.3 K of galas and smut

Summary: a tenday in his bed, a tenday bereft of his company in his absence, Lumina’s own plotting takes shape. With the perfect opportunity at hand, she tries to get under the Vampire Ascendant’s skin and steal his attention. Little does she know just how much she already has of it…

CW:(Spawn) harem dynamics, jealousy, manipulation, obsession, praise and dirty talk, A!Astarion being over the top possessive and sexy, possessive marking smut, suspicious drinks (magic, not noncon, I promise), “you’re special”

Previous ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

🔥⚜️🔥⚜️🔥⚜️🔥⚜️🔥⚜️🔥⚜️🔥⚜️🔥⚜️🔥

Blessed and blissed out for a tenday, that was Lumina’s life of late. Days spent feeding on the fresh kills of venison and cow brought to her cell by his armored guards, days spent sleeping off the burning ache he caused each and every night. There was no part of her little body he hadn’t sought pleasure from, no hole left unfucked, even those too tight to let him in without ample coaxing and touch and praise.

There was no need for compelling, those dark tendrils of his powers all but mute in her mind. Oh, she was his—obedient and pliant and eager. And she had been rewarded every night for such a stellar performance. He only used that connection as her master to summon her from her room. And each time, that Tiefling consort glared holes in the back of her head as she swayed her hips up the stairs.

Morana… she hadn’t been vicious. But she certainly wasn’t nice. She had seen this pattern a hundred times, some with Spawn that had since met their end. The obsession, the allure, the unbreakable infatuation from the newly born until he tired of them.

Tired of them all.

It was only a matter of time, she had mocked today… and then he would tire of those flexible and firm legs of her, of her human flesh and bright hair. He would tire of lending her books as payment for her unimaginative pleasure, the first consort had sneered.

But Lumina let it roll off her shoulders, washing it away in the baths she took each day now. A luxury and necessity to finally clean off all the dried stick of his cum from almost every crack and crevice of her body. He had sent her oils and soaps that smelled of him… it was addictive. Enticing. Every day, she could smell him in her nose, his sweat and perfume, his cum and musk. Made her mouth water for the chance to let her prove her ever growing affections for him.

Affections… she knew better than to set her heart on anyone. Yet, she couldn’t fight that gnawing of her gut watching time pass, reading her books. It should be about now… any moment and his power should tingle up her spine, the wave of his call for her like breath down her neck…

But it never came. She dug her nails into her thigh, where her flesh slipped from beneath the high dart of a slit in her skirt.

No.

Instead, she heard another gate unlock, another door swing with a creak on its hinges. Bolting from her bed, she had to see who he had chosen in her stead. Through her gilded bars, she watched that swishing dark blue tail of Morana wave at her. A flash of dark crimson in her dark eyes, and the Tiefling threw her a wicked, victorious smirk before treading up those stone stairs.

“Gods dammit,” Lumina cursed, her undead skin flushing hot with jealousy and rage. She wailed that book toward her bed, loving the distraction of how it smacked into the wall before falling unceremoniously into her bed. Pinpricks stung her eyes, tongue dry in her mouth. She curled into the corner of her bed, knees hugged into her chest.

Making her feel so empty, in her body and her heart.

She stayed like that, tears burning as they seeped out hot and angry, her face hidden in her hands. Her nails clawing into her cheeks, her neck, her knees, wherever just so she could feel physical pain to lessen the ache of envy in her gut.

It wasn’t terribly long, she thought, before that telltale step of feet on the stairs meant someone returned. She couldn’t look, didn’t want to see a flush on Morana’s dark cheeks or smell his spend on her skin. But there she was, stopped in front of her cell, her skirt parted around that slit to barely show the inside of her thigh.

His scent caught her nose, and she wanted to hurl. Even as her stomach gnawed empty. She carried his scent.

“Hmmm, little Lumina, you poor thing. You’ll learn,” Morana tutted her tongue, swaying on her legs enough to let the slick sound between them reach her ears. “He sends his warmest regards, however, but he will be away for a tenday now… And he wanted me to begin overseeing the preparation for his return, when we will be joined by several of his.. guests. He will need his best consorts and concubines ready to… entertain them all.”

“I believe I understand full well,” Lumina replied with a flat tone, ignoring the visions of clawing her fingers around that infernal dark neck.

“Lord Astarion wanted me to give you a little something,” those dark red eyes gleamed, her bluish lips smirking to reveal her own set of fangs. She ran her fingers up her thigh, gathering still-wet slick from her dark blue skin. Holding them out, she crooked her other fingers at the little blonde wretch who had lost her heart.

It was too easy, watching that little human tremble and sniff as she could scent his cum on her fingertips. “Open, he said to give you one last taste of him before he had to leave. A shame he couldn’t bid you farewell himself, he said, but he wanted some of the vintage he has savored the longest before his journey, me of course.”

Lumina gritted her teeth, it smelled so good, he smelled so good. She wanted it, licking her lips as she came closer and closer. It happened so close, so involuntarily, the way she licked those fingers clean with one hard suck.

“Oh, I can start to see why he’s liked you for so many nights…” Morana’s deep voice sliced through her flittering fantasy. “You’ll be part of this soirée, but you’ll have such a small role, fucked over some table by some rich, plump Patriar while I entertain his Lordship from the comfort of his throne as he barely glances at you from across the room…”

Lumina hissed, fangs bared before she turned and skulked back to her bed.

Morana flashed a smile, heading back to her room to clean herself. But the second her back turned on the little welp, she scowled. She had managed to obey… in her own way around his compelling magic. She slipped off her gown, conjuring and warming water in her bath in an instant with her limited magic. Letting the heat thaw that bitter shard in her soul at what had happened.

It shouldn’t have ended this way, not with how it had begun just like old times. His pride on his face as he sipped his last glass of wine, waiting for his carriage to be readied. He had patted his lap, a seat she had so silkenly sidled up to take. Her hand teasing him through that crushed velvet of his breeches. Only to find him soft and unaroused. She pouted, tracing her fingers over its tip, her tail swishing before wrapping itself nicely around his strong leg.

She watched him bristle at its pressure, a chilled smirk on his lips as he spoke about his trip, his return.

His instructions were clear and concise, his expectations for his return were the usual… and then he kissed her. Biting into her neck as she always offered…. Only to have him suck her blood and spit it across the floor the next moment.

It was her mistake next that turned the tide, her little sultry quip about how he must have lost a taste for the spice of Tiefling, preferring that bland milk of a human he had been tasting so often of late��

Morana sank deeper into the water… She shouldn’t have provoked him, shouldn’t have opened her mouth for anything but his cock.

No, instead she had to be insolent and find herself on her knees between his own, working his half-softened dick as he had to close his eyes and clutch the arms of his chair. Every trick she knew and he loved failed. Every suck and stroke of her mouth, every tug and grab of his balls, every push of her finger even into his ass… none of it made him hard as long as he stared at her or grabbed her black and arching horns.

No, he had to shut his eyes and grit his teeth, refraining from touching her anywhere to make him fully erect. It took her standing before him, his eyes still closed, as they pleasured themselves for him to finally have the right… enticement, he had said.

It took the wet and beating sounds of their own touching for him to finally come, coating her mound and thighs in his seed. And only then did she think she heard him sigh that most hated name from his lips. Lumina.

Once he opened his eyes, his gaze glinted with unsatisfied hunger and scorn. Looking her up and down, he sneered to hear the carriage rumbling up the drive. His voice had been like ice, exacting and sharp, ordering her to take his precious seed and make his Little Light suck it from her fingers. So at the very least she could have one last taste of him before he left… since his carriage was ready and waiting.

Lord Astarion had ordered her back to the cellars with a brush of his mind, one last reminder that she should not fail him again, that Morana had other duties to perform, an evening’s work of entertainment to flawlessly execute if she wished to be spared his wrath.

Perhaps his wrath would be better than his neglect, his loss of affection. But Morana rolled her shoulders and sank into the waters up to her horns. She had nothing but time.

But then again, so did they all.

A tenday was nothing for an immortal, but for Lumina, having to wander around the palace to avoid that arrogant Tiefling, not to mention the others, time dragged at a glacial pace. She kept herself to the gardens and her room when they were allowed to wander the Palace at night in his absence, but what she really wanted was him.

She would creep to the door of his rooms, his study, just to smell him. It was enough to ground her until she reached for her last book from him, turning back to page one to begin reading it all over again. This night, she fell asleep with her nose pressed into the pages, dreaming she could smell him, her master, his skin under her touch, his taste of salt and bitter and musk on her tongue… if only she could awaken at his side again, feel his fingers part her thighs again…

But instead it was Morana’s deep laughter that peeled into her rooms from the hall. “Time to perform, Little Light. The Master arrives tonight, so you’d best prepare yourself for his guests.” Every word panged her with hope and despair in equal measure.

Her wardrobe swung open under her shaking hand, a few deep cut, extravagant gowns waiting to be chosen. Her pale fingers settled on one, thin and black, one that would make her skin glow like pearls and her hair the deep lively golden of straw. Touch dancing over the gossamer and silks, she smiled, a plan to make herself simply irresistible forming in her lust-drunk mind. He would regret leaving her, if it was the last thing he lived to regret.

Once the doors were opened, the handful of consorts left to wander up to the hall, Lumina gave one last smoothing of her raven black skirt. And she smiled. Dressed for seduction. Dressed for revenge.

She filed in line, following in Morana’s wake and the handful of the rest of the spawn. Drawing short of the Ballroom’s grand door, Morana held up her hand. “The Master will want us to mingle, to entertain and sparkle and delight. We may feed from any of the guests, so long as they ask. Do not overindulge, do not divulge any of the Master’s secrets or habits, do not fraternize with the guests, or you will be punished. And remember, he is watching. He is always watching.”

Lumina locked eyes with the Tiefling the moment she looked her way. All her adamantine hardness steeled her over. She was ready. Whatever was to come. It wouldn’t be worse than her life before, she knew that much. Even if it was just the internal pleasure she would get from making him watch her perform for someone else…. She would make him pay.

But the second the doors opened for them to slip inside… she lost her breath. He was… stunning. Crimson gaze cut through the crowd, half-lidded and scanning each one of his spawn as they stepped in on preternatural silent feet. He reclined in that grand chair at the end of the ballroom, the likes of which she had never seen, wrought iron and wine red, winged and imposing. But not enough to take the eye off its occupant. Not when he was dressed so elegantly in gold stitching and jewels in his own midnight black tunic and trousers. Not when his pale face leered with distant promises of pleasure on his sharp features, his eyes ringed with kohl and ears bejeweled with shining hoops of purest gold. Those long, elegant fingers that had ruined her for all others’ touch teased around the edge of his goblet, swirling it lazily as he separated his crossed legs.

Letting them spread wide, as wide as that massive chair.

The second his eyes moved from the spawn before her to rest on her face, she felt that swirling tendril of his power in her mind. A caress, a beckoning, but not one that compelled her to his presence. She was sure for a moment she felt his touch raking her body from the inside of her mind but for as sudden as it possessed her, it was just as fleeting and gone. Then his eyes moved on to the next spawn behind her, and those sweet tendrils of desire dissipated.

Lumina let her breath go, her lungs burned even though she didn’t need the air anymore. It was more the burning of her cheeks as his eyes left her face. The fire of her need to prove herself. It was a good start at the very least, she smiled, wide and brilliant enough for her fangs to catch the candelabra light. Shoulders back, hips sauntering, breasts on full display, she wasn’t surprised as the mass of slightly tipsy Patriars approached the circle of spawn. Nor was she surprised when many of them sought her hand to kiss in greeting.

From the corner of her eye, she watched Morana sway her way up the ballroom towards their Master, bending to her knees before him, tail twitching from the slit of her sparkling sapphire gown. She waited at his feet the perfect paragon of obedience, but his chest only rose and fell faster, and she was sure if she looked, his eyes would be on her. Not the Tiefling at his feet. She gave a hearty, musical laugh at some comment about how she glowed once they all learned her name. Her circle of suitors. She could practically hear the metal in his hand bending as he gripped his goblet tighter.

For her, she may as well have been in a nearly empty room. The rest of the spawn had dispersed, already sequestered into corners or window casements for their guests' pleasures or to feed. She smelled blood in the air. Perhaps at the worst, she could drink tonight right from a vein.

At least the music was merry, and Lumina could sway to its beat as she crossed to the table of refreshments. The chatter of all the male guests faded from her ear the moment she heard heavy, measured steps approach from behind her.

“You’ll find the red to be to your liking, Little Light…”

She chuckled, reaching for the silver decanter of the wine he mentioned. “Thank you my lord, for your suggestion…” Throwing an easy smile over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of just how close Astarion hovered behind her. Careful not to touch. Closer enough for his breath to wash down the deep v cut of her back. “You are always so… attentive… to my needs.”

He gave a little grunt of approval, taking the empty chalice from her cool hand. Filling it himself with the decanter, he raised it first to his lips. She held her breath, those wine-red eyes of his never leaving her face. Even as he swallowed loudly, she hid the little shudder that ran through her body and straight to her sex. “You had better ready yourself for the night to come… who knows whose blood you may consume or whose cock will end up buried inside you sweet slickness, my Light…” He handed her the half-drunk cup, scanning her every expression as she took it from his hands.

As she let her cool digits sweep tenderly over his in the process.

“If I’m lucky,” she flashed him that innocent and taunting smile in reply, “both will fill my belly before the night is through.” Head tilted, gaze lowered, she swept her skits to one side in a deferential curtsy, one that slid the slit of her skirt full up her thigh. Giving him a peak of the nothingness she wore beneath. Rising back before him, she met those half-lidded crimson eyes with a confident, impertinent smile. “I hope you enjoyed your journeys, my lord. It was ever so… uneventful without you. Peaceful, even.”

Before she could raise that cup to take the slightest fraction of a sip, his hand reached to close around her throat. Leaning in, he was all fangs and hot breath and hissing voice as he rasped against her lips. “Do not forget your places my sweet, precious, Little Light. I am not here for your peace,” he snarled. A ravenous, claiming, biting kiss consumed her lips and made her twitch in surprise and pain before he released her with the smallest of shoves. “You, Lumina, are here for my pleasure. And tonight, I get to decide just what that may entail and with whom you may seek it.”

And just as swiftly as he had appeared behind her, he quickly turned and made his way back through the crowds. Lost in the sea of bodies.

She stood trembling for a moment, lost herself somewhere between the victory of antagonizing him as he had her for a tenday, and the defeat of feeling his wrath. Of having him leave her body after barely touching her. Setting her cup back down on the table, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to take a drink without spilling it from how much her hand shook.

And then she felt a tug on her mind, an order from him to move to the library to meet her guest for the night.

Lumina grimaced, watching as all of the other spawn yet accounted for in the shadows began to move through the room, their patrons for pleasuring assigned too. Her head swam, even as she grit her teeth and locked her stare with Morana. That fucking Tiefling, standing at the side of his empty chair, tail twitching languorously, lips sipping from an even more elegant chalice than the one she had set aside.

Her feet moved of their own will, out the door and down the halls that brimmed with flickering light. Licking her lips, she set her heart on at least draining whatever plump patron was behind the thick oaken doors before her. She kept her gaze on her pale hands, steadying them as she turned to shut the door, her back to the interior of the room.

The scent of books, the crackle of fire in the grate, the distant whine of the music from the ballroom down the hall… it would be positively romantic, picturesque even, if only it wouldn’t be some unknown wealthy patron waiting behind her back. If only…

“Why the hesitation, my Little Light? Not in haste to please your Master?”

“M-Master?” Lumina spun on her heel, almost tangled in her slitted skirts to see him. Untroubled, lazy, and amused, he leaned against the rounded arm of the chaise longue. The perfect picture of the Sunwalking Regent—the scarlet of the chair was striking under the sable of his clothing, the firelight catching the jewels in his tunic, making his crimson eyes illuminated.

Licking his lips, she felt those tendrils tickle down her spine before releasing her. “Like I said… you were made for my pleasure, and you are mine to command, mine to decide with whom you will find your own pleasure.”

She had drawn so near, he grabbed into her skirts, inserting his fingers up her thigh already.

“And you will only be mine now…”

His touch was lightning itself, jolts of bliss wracking her as he slipped those two skilled fingers right for her sex.

Lumina bucked, but he only gave her a few shallow strokes before he pulled out. Swallowing her hiss, biting her lip, she couldn’t have felt more desired.

“Now, on your knees darling….” his voice rumbled as his hands pulled her down to the thick carpet, plush, elegant and bloodied in color. The same shade of his eyes as they glowed.

“Yes, my Master,” she breathed, obeying in an instant.

“Those eyes of yours glimmer with surprise, my Light,” he growled as he cupped her chin and dragged her closer until there was no space left between their bodies. “Didn’t think I would pick you, did you?”

“No,” she whispered, keeping her eyes on his belly, on the way the jewels sparkled with his every ragged breath.

“You are wise to be honest with me, little spawn. So I will be honest in return. I didn’t think so either,” he jerked her chin, making those eyes meet his, making her lips part in shock and a hint of pain. “It’s not what’s done on these nights, you know. It’s not how it has been for over a century…. But for you, Little Light, nothing is as it has been.” Eyes narrowed, his gaze flicked to her neck as he twisted her head in his grasp. “I am equally surprised.”

Lumina gave some half-hearted start to a reply, one he just swallowed with a kiss at any rate. Demanding, his kiss consumed her—all tongue down her throat to taste her in place of his fangs to devour her this time. “Trust me,” his voice like gravel in his mouth, “I was far from happy about it. You’ve really caused turmoil in my little kingdom. So much so, I’ve broken all my own rules just for you.” His brows furrowed, irritation coloring his voice. “I reject my oldest plaything for you, you unman me so much, I couldn’t even get hard in her presence before my departure…” He looked at her wide eyes, the memory obviously fresh yet in her mind. “I thought of you as I pleasured myself. I was angered by the hold you have on me, irritated that you have so much control over me, my Little Light. And yet…”

He ached. He burned. He pulled her dress right off her shoulders, the gossamer, light as spider silk, giving way with such ease. Snatching her hands, he slammed them on his chest, scratching them on the clasps of his ornate jacket. “Hurry,” he snarled into his kiss, giving that pouting bottom lip and bite just for good measure. “I know you have been burning up for me, Lumina, in my absence. I could feel it, my eager, ambitious, little spawn.”

A sigh passed her lips, her body betraying any lingering vestige of anger as it melted into him. Clasp by clasp, button by button she stripped him quickly and deliberately. While he made rough, tearing work of her dress, leaving it in shambles to puddle around her knees.

“Blazing for you, my Master,” she moaned into his kiss, his hands lifting her little frame by her waist. Nails dug into her flesh, making her clamber into his lap, making her legs wrap around his hips until her folds stretched and soaked him. It was a matter of moments for him to free his cock and bury it inside her again. A matter of bites and blood and scratching and bucking until she rode every vicious thrust he made into her.

She was a vision, the same he had kept in his mind all those days away. The firelight caught in the golden of her hair, her eyes glimmering as they fluttered open and shut in her own growing bliss. Her pale fresh stretched for him, so tight and wet instantly, her rounded hips bucking with smooth grace, her breasts swinging and swaying as she let him have her.

So soon, she unraveled, walls clutching him in waves, golden hair spilled back as she arched and twitched in orgasm on his thighs. Warm hands wrapped her hair around his fist, pulling her back hard enough to make her whimper. Fangs raked their icy points down her neck, the cold brush making her blistering orgasm flame somehow higher. “Please,” she moaned. “Please bite me…”

“Of course,” he nipped at her skin with smooth blunted edged teeth first. “You are mine after all, to do with as I wish.” Hard and colder than she remembered it, he sliced into her neck, the sound of skin giving way like the piercing of an apple’s flesh. She hissed and writhed, her own fangs bared as the pain swelled over her pleasure.

The moment his mouth flooded with her blood, he shoved himself to the hilt over and over again, letting his seed spill inside, letting her milk his every twitching spurt. Mouth filling even as he emptied himself.

Glorious. More than he had longed for in his absence.

He had stilled inside her, lips sucking and drinking down her blood. But that cock pulsed with each swallow, pushing at the end of her channel with how he just held her in his lap. The warm pad of his tongue swirled over those wounds, swipe and swipe licking her clean until it ceased to flow. “Such a good… delicious…” he licked again, “little spawn you are…”

Through her hazy vision, she smiled at him, the sight of her blood on his chin making her stomach gnaw and growl with her own hunger. A playful cock of his head, his crimson eyes scanned her in the flickering light, one hand pushing on her belly until it rumbled against his touch.

Until she could feel him pressed against her stomach from the inside and the outside. “I know you’re hungry, my pet,” he consoled her, that other set of skilled fingers teasing in her hair so softly, straying through the fluttering loose ends at her temple. “If only there was something I could offer you to… sate your hunger, Little Light…”

“Is there?” she squirmed on his lap, the slick between them still sticky with every movement.

A single brow arched, his expression one of inscrutability and lust. “There are many things I could offer you….” he purred. “I thought about it many a time when I was away.” His lips brushed her ear, his hands still lazily tracing over the pinpricked skin of her belly and teasing through her hair.

Lumina practically curled into his chest, the sweetest of simpers on lips. Glowing. She was glowing at him. Not a more aptly named being in all Faerûn, he decided right then and there. “You did?” she bubbled over, fangs showing in her smile.

“Mmm,” he hummed, another little shift inside her walls just for emphasis. “Many a time. And in all sorts of fantastic positions, the likes of which you have never known and will never try with another being… so long as you walk in this realm.” She would be blushing, he was sure, if she had any living blood in her right now. That would be… quite the sight. Her cheeks and lips and nipples and cunt rosy from blood and his constant stimulation. Astarion licked his lips just at the mere passing thought. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” his voice rumbled as he asked. “To be mine… forever?”

“Is that not already what you have made me, Master?” she purred her reply. “For I am so very grateful you did.” She turned her face to hide her bashful grin against her shoulder. An error he corrected with a sweep of his hand back around her chin. “Not many go from mortal to undying, from raw hands and rags to swollen lips and fine gowns.” Her eyes darted to the side, hiding the flicker of ghosts behind that bright gaze. “Not many know what makes being a… spawn… better than being someone’s slave.”

He paused, scanning her face—so earnest, so eager. It made something inside his heart… hurt again. Something that hadn’t for almost two centuries. Not since... He shook his head.

“No need for anything like that from the past now,” he flashed her that sultry smirk. “I ask you of your future, one where I might provide for your every hunger, one where I would expect you to do the same for me, my Light.” He shifted her on his thighs, a hand absently stroking into those golden locks. “That is what you want, isn’t it?” Mouth brushed hers, his lips teased over her own as he lowered his voice into a rasp. “I am what you want, aren’t I?”

“More than anything,” she sighed. A hand stroked against his cheek, trying to pull him into her kiss. “Being apart from you was torture, my master.”

“More torture than the kind you enjoy at my fingertips, little spawn?” he slipped his hand between her thighs, catching that hardened nub of hers where it strained.

Lumina sighed, leaning away to allow him a little more room, booking her hands behind his neck as she arched in pleasure. His smirk at her reaction was feral, wicked, and possessive. But just as he could feel her reawaken for more, he slipped his touch away, pushing her off his lap, off his slightly softened cock. “Allow me to offer you amends, then, for the torture you had to endure to be parted from my side, my darling.” He swept his arm to the side, the columns of bookcases darkened the edges of the room, embossed titles and oiled leather spines glimmered through the shadows. “My library is yours. Choose as many as you like, come when you wish…”

He stood with a grunt, managing to lace his breeches back up absentmindedly as he watched her face melt into one of awe and wonder and adoration for him.

Making something in his chest grow painfully hard.

Ignoring that sensation, he reached for the pewter chalice on the side table before crossing over to where she had begun to peruse his collection.

Her nostrils flared at the scent. “For me?” She took the chalice in her hands, the metal still warm from the fresh source of the contents within. “A little blood to keep me going for you, is that right, Master?”

“Let’s just say,” he smiled, lifting her face, the pads of his fingers beneath her chin, “a little something to sweeten the deal. A little something to seal your admission that you wish to be mine for all time, Lumina.”

She doesn’t think twice before she raises the cup to her lips, but the instant it coats her tongue, she knows something is… different. It’s rich in flavor, strange and familiar in her mouth all at once. “This is still warm, my Master?”

“Indeed,” he leaned against the mantle, lazily watching her every move. “Warm, freshly spilled, living, thinking blood,” he paused, reaching for her as if he could touch her at this distance, “only for you, my Little Light.”

Lumina dared another mouthful, its power already making her body shake. Making her feel more alive than ever before. It felt so very good. Too good perhaps. She didn’t even give a second thought to its source, to whatever poor guest maybe was bled or left to die for her meal. It was.. addictive the way it made her feel. It made her nerves tingle, her face flush hot. It made her hands warm, her sex hot and dripping and clenching as she locked eyes with him from across the room.

Her hands shook as she tried to set the chalice down on its stem. The cup toppled over with her clumsiness, but she had drained every drop of that sweet, powerful elixir.

“Not to your taste, my love?” he purred, his hips cocking as her body shook, as she took small steps closer. Her eyes were dilated wide, her skin flushed and alive. He could smell her arousal, hear her heart pumping slightly harder. “I was so hoping you would say it’s the best you’ve ever had, my darling.”

Her nostrils flared as she crept closer. That blood was in her veins, the magic already taking hold, he could see it. And it made him smile.

“It’s nice to see you indulge,” he said, pulling her naked form against him the moment she was within reach. “How do you feel? Your first thinking blood, hmm?”

“I… feel…” she whispered, leaning into his body, shivering as her skin brushed against his smooth chest.

She hesitated as she scanned his face. “Do you feel alive?” He smirked, rubbing his hand across her cheek and into her shining golden hair. “Do you feel strong… happy?”

“Yes,” she sighed, her eyes locked into his face. Looking for answers to unspoken questions. “But I feel so much more than that. I can’t… tell you what.”

He cradled her against him, hands running over her body with a bit of tenderness and a bit of command. “Shh shh,” he hushed in her ear. “Perhaps the blood I harvested for you was a little strong. You deserve the best, my Light, only the strongest, most potent, most powerful blood will do for my… mistress.”

That power coursed in her veins, every sense sharpened with its vigor. Looking into his face, she would see every twitch of his brows, every flicker of his eyes on her own countenance. “Your mistress?” she hesitated to let the words from her lips as if she feared they were a lie.

His lip twisted to one side, an amused smirk as she licked her lips clean still. “Oh yes,” he hummed, pulling her across the room. A single door slide opened as he approached, hidden amongst the heavy-laden shelves. The darkness swallowed them as she followed him inside. His scent was heavy in the air as he called flames to light the candlesticks within. The chamber within was elegant and luxurious, a smattering of bright colors and pastels, on the walls, the curtains, the bedspread.

He stopped at the bedside, hands at her lower back to pull her flush against him. “You will be here, my Light.” He nodded his back towards the open door, “One door to allow you into my cherished library at your smallest whim….” A flourish of his hand, and one glowing Mage Hand appeared across the room, opening another broad door on the opposite side. “And another door to my chambers…” his brows furrowed into that look of possessive hunger and seduction, his voice dripping that warm and velvety promise of pleasure. “Since you will be in my bed every night henceforth…” Astarion gripped her ass hard in his palms, letting his nails dig into her soft and supple flesh. “Or I in yours, if you’ll have me.”

Something in her full belly swirled at his words, his invitation didn’t feel like one of his commands… there was no pull of his magic, no tendrils tickling her will. It was a true offer, a genuine invitation to let him into her bed and between her thighs.

She stared into that sultry smirking face, the light dancing off his sharp features, his eyes extra piercing with those lines of kohl making them captivating, intense. She shivered under that stare. He clearly had this all planned, prepared well in advance, every detail ready for her approval and admiration. And she loved it.

She turned to pull herself against his body, his skin so hot against her belly, his scent so delicious and familiar as she took a deep breath. “I’m always willing to have you, my master,” she sighed, blushing with hot cheeks for once as she met his ravenous gaze. “I’ll have you right now again, and again if you wish.”

“There is nothing… I’d like more,” he sighed, his mouth descending sharply. His kiss is all power and passion, his body pushed up against her bare skin until she was nearly tumbling into her new bed. Hers. It was all hers. As he pushed her down, as he pulled his legs free from his trousers and sank himself inside her again beneath him, he finally felt a burst of heat in his chest.

He had thought of nothing the last tenday apart from having her again, from giving her a place at his side where she couldn’t stray too far. He wanted nothing more than his cock buried in her, her hair wrapped around his hand or beneath his face as he slept, he wanted her with him always now. No other concubine would do.

She had ruined him. And so, he plotted to reward her with all this… the thought was almost too much, his victory at making her his alone.

This little girl from the little shop, pulled from the gutter by his hand to be his saving Light. He would give her everything, and he would take her everything from her. An equal exchange.

Something about her simmered beneath the surface since he had first caught a glimpse of her in that rank old shop, the keeper’s only piece of chattel worth offering for his debts. His chest had been tight, his throat had burned to see her being used and neglected. He would do so much better for her.

And now, as she bucked to his every thrust, hands clasped around his beck and eyes fluttered shut as she came so flawless on his cock, he had finally given her the value of her true worth.

She was his Light, his diamond in the rough. And now she was his forever. That blood in her body was already working its magic. Her flesh was warm, her power increased ten fold, not that she would know it… Soon she would do so much more than feel warm to the touch, but she would figure that out in due time.

A few final, erratic snaps of his hips, and he filled her, pulse after pulse as he groaned. Eyes locked on her face, he watched her lips tremble to feel him come so hard just for her. Breathless, he kept himself up on his arms, a few lingering drags in her channel for extra pleasure. “Perfect. You are perfect every time,” he breathed, leaning down just enough to catch those pretty pink lips in a kiss. “And you’ll be perfect forever.”

Slowly he lowered himself to crusch her little body into the bed. “It’s all I could do to think of you. When I wasn’t meeting with boring nobles, I would dream of your sweet lips and your even sweeter cunt.”

“I thought of you too,” she admitted so quietly. “I would sneak to visit the halls to your rooms, just to catch your scent…”

“Tch,” he teased, a dark arch to his brow, “naughty for a spawn… but it was your well-deserved right at my mistress.”

“You’re serious about all this… my master?” she barely spoke, eyes darting around her new room, how fine it was, how impressive it was.

“Do you doubt my sincerity?” He looked at her exacting and yet somehow playful. Mischievous perhaps. “Doubt my devotion to you?”

She smiled, again that luminous grin that made his heart ache. “I did, yes, in your absence, my lord. Your other spawn…”

“You’ll never have to worry about them again,” he interjected. “Not one of them will harm you,” his mouth turned in a sadistic, threatening smirk. “And godsforbid one of them so much as insults you, my mistress. They will wish…”

She put her hand on his mouth. “No one needs to die or be punished because of me, my lo… lord.”

His brow arched, curious, as her hand left his lips, revealing his smirk. “Your…? It seems there was more you wished to say.” His fingers softly grabbed her chin to open those pouting lips of hers. “Don’t make me pry the word from your tongue…”

“My love,” she blushed as she said. “I… I love you,” she paused and held her breath.

The look of pure contentment on his face made him appear… youthful, innocent, as if he hadn’t just been threatening to kill a spawn for insult it threat. “Do you know happy that makes me? To hear my feelings returned?” his voice low, pressed in his throat.

“You.. love me too?”

“Of course I do,” he smiled wider. “Why else would I bring you as mine tonight, give you such powerful, living blood and gift you these rooms as my mistress?” Those long, skilled fingers teased through her golden hair, his thumb dancing across her cheek. Her skin warm and flushed and looking alive with that fresh and potent blood in her body.

She giggled, giddy beneath him. “It seems far too good for me, my love.” She let the name free from her lips this time. Those lips were too much a temptation for him not to devour again. “Nothing is too good for you now that you are mine alone, mine forever, my Little Light.”

His… The possessiveness made her purr, curled in his arms, warmed and cared for. For once in her life.

“You’ll let me show you my affection for you once more, won’t you?” he rasped into her ear, cock still hard and shoved deep within her.

A cheeky smile on her lip, she rolled him on his back. It was so easy… in the morning she would realize it had been too easy. But for now, she was drunk on the sight of him under her, his tousled hair and rakish smirk as she began to grind. “More than willing to have you show me, only this time, allow me… my love.”

When she finally stirred, every limb ached, her legs dried and sticky. Her arm reached beside her, the softest sheets cocooning her in luxury. Slowly, the night returned to her… the rigorous fucking, the new chambers, his mistress, his chosen… his love. Her nerves tingled as she stirred. Opening her eyes, these new rooms were bathed in light.

Light.

Not from candles or fireplaces or torches. Daylight. The kind she had been barred from, the dangerous burn you to nothing kind of light.

But now, warm beams cut through the air, the particles of dust dancing merrily in their shafts. She reached a hand into the closest beam. It warmed her skin, bathing her in light she thought she would never see again.

The moment of euphoria and hope darkened even as she sat up. Alone in her new rooms, she could hear movement from his chambers through their connecting door. Her heart sank and fluttered, her mind racing.

What had he done to her…

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pursuitseternal · 1 month

Text

“Knowledge is a dangerous weapon:” Bookworm!Tav, Vampiric Spawn Powers, and Breeding—“Bites” Update 📚

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 4.6K of banter and breeding

Based on an anonymous prompt

(HBD @lipstickghoulie )

Summary: You have always loved your books and a challenge, when your Vampire Rogue learns his starvation has kept him from his full powers, you take him up on his challenge to teach him the skills that are his due. As you draw closer together, he finds that one bit of information you have failed to teach him… how to make a dhampire

CW: light mocking of Astarion’s ditziness, Spawn Spidercrawl, catching powers and feelings, flirty touching, creepy silent vampire moves, Breeding talk, no babies just breeding, Mating Press™️

Ao3 link | Series link | Masterlist

📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚

You always knew he was… dumb. Thick headed. Unobservant.

Okay, at times the comments from his thick, rosy lips were just plain stupid. “That lever… must do something…” That was a wonderful moment, one that earned him your eyes rolling so far back in your skull they hurt. “We have some words and some… circles…. Wonder what they do….” Another example of his unparalleled intelligence.

Not to mention the countless times he failed to remember any of the major gods and their shrines as you passed through crypts and defiled chapels.

For as handsome as he was, for as sultry and seductive as you found him, he was… smoothed-brained. But as your journey forced you closer together, you couldn’t help but think some of it may be merely pretense, he was a magistrate after all. He was abused and tortured for centuries, surely that does things to one’s mind. And he was always reading. Every day, every night at camp, his beautiful aquiline nose stuck in a book, crimson eyes devouring the words at a breakneck speed.

One to even rival your own thirst for knowledge.

Maybe it was that you allowed the poor Spawn a chance to drink living, thinking blood for once. Your own. Maybe that was what began to take his little, stupid moments and turn them into something endearing.

Not that he was gracious when you corrected his ignorance. Every time, he gave that adorable, grumpy harumph and then defended his comments, or… since he started feeding from you, he’d just look at your neck still freshly marked and lick his lips. That really shut you up. Set you on fire.

But it wasn’t until you needed him to reach that last little chest up on the crumbling ledge inside some dank cavern that you realized his ignorance wasn’t wholly pretend.

Astarion, vampire spawn, didn’t know just what he should be capable of. He looked positively befuddled when you told him to just climb the brick wall. His sass had been sharp, “I’m not some spider, darling.”

“But you can spider climb, you dolt,” you had laughed imitating his tone, trying to call his bluff on skills he should have, at least according to what you had read in your book. A Spawn should scale such a wall with immense ease.

He just narrowed his crimson eyes at you, a snarl on his lips as he shook his head. “I have never performed such an act, darling, nor have any of my brothers and sisters, those of us Cazador kept for his bidding. Better check your precious facts in your precious tomes before you throw your assumptions on my prowess… dear.”

You still shiver at that night. Back at camp. When you ignored the way he bristled as you approached him in front of his tent. He had sneered at you, readying his next acerbic quip for you… Until you sat so close beside him, settling the heavy book in his lap. Leaning in, you point to the page. Traits and Strengths of the Vampiric Spawn.

You felt him cease breathing, his left hand clutching at the edge of the book growing even whiter. “Astarion,” you breathed. Leaning in more, you looked into his eyes, his gaze scanning the words so quickly on the aged vellum. And then he shoved you by your cheek out of his sightline. He needed to finish this.

“Why, I should be positively remarkable, assuming your book is correct,” he sighed, as if he saw a vision, a dream fulfilled. One where he was powerful.

You nodded as his crimson eyes flashed at you, wide with wonder. “You mentioned Cazador never let you feed enough, and not from thinking creatures.” He nodded, skeptical even as his eyes fixated on your lips. “Well, what you did not know was that denying you a sufficient diet meant also restricting you from your full powers, even as a Spawn, Astarion. You should be able to climb up walls and ceilings, move swifter, lift boulders too much for even Karlach to manage. You should be able to heal almost instantaneously, without potion or feeding.”

“And now?” he replied, that little tremor of hope in his voice unmistakable as his hand traced over the page of your book.

“Well, it’s a difficult deduction, since you have our unwelcome illithid parasite. But now that you are feeding regularly, even from thinking creatures, you should find the effects more than just making you feel… happy,” you rambled on. Even as you kept talking, his eyes glued their gaze to your neck, your lips. If you weren’t mistaken, they even dipped down the v-shaped cut of your tunic.

“So… the more I drink from thinking creatures, the stronger and more powerful I will be?” he murmured, a slight grit in his throat as his eyes definitely darted down your bosom now.

“Y-yes,” you rejoined, sliding back just a touch.

And he slid that touch closer, and then some.

“You’ll help me, won’t you, darling? You’ll help me learn these skills? Give me all I require to access my full potential….” His eyes looked wet, the ruby irises glowing in the flickering firelight. “Please?” he adds with that smirk and that single arching brow of his made you stomach flutter and heart thump so hard in your chest.

“I…” you started, but he only seemed to lean ever closer.

“You know, when I was a Magistrate, back in the City, I would have craved someone with intelligence like yours. We would have been rivals, colleagues…” his eyes dip once more shamelessly up and down your seated body. “Perhaps lovers even,” he breathed. “I always surrounded myself with those of highest intellect, darling. Intelligence is so… undervalued by many, and knowledge is a dangerous weapon, but I see you, my darling. Won’t you please come to my aid now?”

“We… we can try,” you had whispered, barely able to the let the words from your lips with how you seemed to seize under the intensity of his stare.

“Wonderful,” he purred, catching your cheek, your chin in his cool palm. “I just hope we don’t have to wait too long…”

You squirmed as his thumb began to brush beneath your lip.

“…to put my new strengths to the test I mean, of course.” He smirked that little bit more twistedly. More seductively. And you knew he heard your heart beating in your artery, your blood rushing under his touch in your veins to pool lower. It was his nature, and you knew more of it than he did.

“Of course…” you breathed. “I’d be happy to help.”

“Then it’s settled,” his voice was thick in his throat, you relished the way his other arm stole around you, clutching at you back to bring you all the closer under his heady spell of charm and seduction. “All that’s left is to seal our new arrangement somehow…”

He pushed that heavy book off his lap, sliding to bring you into completely flushed against him. You’re sure your pulse was raging so loudly, it’s deafened his pointed and twitching ears. That chilled, corpse-cold touch under your chin tilts you up just… so…

You melted, closing that distance between your lips. Every logical thought dispersed in the wind of your desire, that panting breath that passed from your lungs into his.

That’s how this all began, and where it had brought you to this moment, where he clings to the ceiling of a massive cavern filled with both the stink of Gnolls and the vile creatures themselves. Dagger gripped in between his glinting fangs. He readies himself with a look of pure and dark excitement. He loves this. He misses this when it’s just you all back in the quiet of camp, where he tests his ever growing strength and climbing abilities, where he drinks from you every night before he hunts in the dark.

Where he slowly makes you more and more aware of your awakening body the more he touches you and caresses and kisses you. Always every night. Always between your increasingly intellectual discussions about vampiric powers and the moment he sinks his fangs into your skin to feed. He always leaves you after dark, his own belly sated, while you… you grow all the hungrier. Needier. You want more debate, more analysis, more of his body covering yours as he drinks you down.

But not anything more. Not yet. Even as you knew he was edging closer to asking you for sex. Even if he didn’t know all the… implications. After all, knowledge was a dangerous weapon.

You shake your head to free yourself from the longing thoughts of past nights and burning expectations of the night to come. You give him the signal, watching him release with flawless precision, dagger in hand now, as he falls from his spider-perch.

The Gnolls never see you coming, not before your endearingly ferocious Vampire Spawn lands with preternatural grace on their heads and vivisects them before you even reach their location.

He pants as you get at least one good shot from your bow, right for the last twitching body on the ground.

It’s not until you smile, satisfied, you notice that Astarion’s pale skin is riddled with scratches and tears from the beasts’ claws. He holds out his arms, rolling up his sleeves and smiling. Enjoying the sight of his vampiric body healing before his eyes. That crimson gaze practically glows as he looks at you over the carnage. “See something you like, my sweet?” he purrs, arching that brow, just for you, as if the others in your party aren’t even there.

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, turning to find the coveted chest of supplies, that Zhentarim sigil on it is no deterrent to you. Not when your Vampire Spawn can charm anyone to do anything now. “We better head back to camp,” you kneel before the strong chest, trying your hand to pick the iron lock.

“Tch,” his voice brushes your ear, physically tickling the small stray hairs that make you gasp. “You know I’m far more skilled with my fingers, especially when it comes to slipping inside…” You shudder to feel him crouching right behind you, his thighs pressed against your ass, his waist brushing your lower back. “…Slipping inside chests, locks, that sort of thing,” he adds louder, just to appease your unease. That dexterous touch has only grown all the smoother and stronger and sneakier now that he has fed well for a while.

He is so sneaky in fact, only one of his hands actually works the lock pick for a moment, the other quickly skates up your leg, tracing the inner seam of your buckskin breeches almost to the peak of your thigh. He laughs in your ear as you muffle a noise under your own palm.

“Soldiers, you really need four hands to pick one lock? Haven't you gotten better, Fangs, now that our fearless leader has let you suck on her and tutor you in being a Spawn?” Karlach chortles, her feet swaying side to side in that perpetual motion dance she seems to do.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Astarion throws the barb over his shoulder, letting you bury your face to hide the tweaks of ecstasy at the corners of your eyes as his fingers keep moving higher… higher. “Some silent performance only you get to savor, it seems?”

“If I didn't know better…” Gale’s pedantic voice draws closer.

“There now,” Astarion crows like the proudest rooster of them all, his hand quickly leaving the edge of your mound to twist that pick and pop the lock just as Gale peers from behind. “Look at all this loot,” he groans and stands, satisfied as he folds his arms over his chest. “Good thing you have a strong, well-fed Vampire to bring it back with us. Wouldn’t you agree, darling?”

He smirks down at you, hand extended to help you to your feet. Back to the rest, he flashes you that fang-toothed smirk that he knows sets your pulse galloping out of control. Pulling you up, he has to steady you in your legs, near boneless as they are with just that tease of pleasure. “Calm yourself darling, you're making my undead heart hurt sympathetically from all that… excitement,” he rasps right into your ear once you’re on your feet before him, releasing you in favor of bags of treasure and potions and loot to stuff in his pack.

Your mind is racing as your trod back towards your little camp well off the Risen Road for good measure. Thoughts scramble, worries peak their heads up, and you can’t stop thinking about the rest of what you have learned reading about vampires. Necessary research for you, particularly since Astarion has seemingly added flirtation and seduction into your witty repartee this last tenday. So far, you’ve managed to keep his wandering eyes from those pages when he glances through your tomes. He seems to prefer every little dip of your skin where he can see it at any rate. So far, you’ve managed to keep his hands in places on your body that are not too dangerous, yours on his as well.

But something inside you knows that tide is shifting. He wants to offer you more in exchange for more… and… well, if it doesn’t just make your body thrum with life in ways no books had and no previous interests had either.

He has beaten you back to camp, haphazardly tossed the loot for the rest of you to sort out in the center of camp. You know he’s waiting in his tent, now that the sun has begun to trek lower and lower. It’s time for your research, for your indulgence of his strength, and… whatever else might happen.

His tent is dimly lit as you enter, a mess of blankets and pillows, some fine and some in tatters. Stacks of books in the corners have replaced the blood bank bottles you first found here to clutter his space.

But no Astarion.

You tilt your head confused, settling down on one pillow, more or less intact, reaching for an apple he keeps in his stash of food just for you. Just to replenish you between his own feedings. As you bite into the hard skin, as the juice fills your mouth, you reach for a book, some ancient law book he found in the ruins of that village. Must make him think of his old life.

The pages are old and soft in your fingers, your eyes absentmindedly skimming the long words and complex sentences as you chew.

Peaceful. Until you realize it’s far too quiet.

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, that feeling of being watched creeping up your spine. Turning, mid bite, you peer into the shadowed corner of his tent behind you.

Two glowing red eyes stare at you from the dark, just a hint of glinting teeth as he smiles and drinks in your fear and surprise. He laughs to hear you hiss as you jump in your seat. “There you are,” he croons from his darkened corner. “I’ve been waiting.”

“F-f-for what?” you force a smile and force your breath to steady all at once. He slides closer, settling down right beside you, and you notice your worn book in his hand, the smile on his face is sultry.

And predatory.

And for a moment, you regret teaching him as much as you have about his untapped powers.

“When were you going to tell me about your little bit of… research… on the side?” his voice is chilling, his brow arching as he flips the book open right to the back.

Right where you had been trying so hard to prevent his eyes from skimming, his ambitious brain from devouring the knowledge.

Your body is hot and rigid, and you know from the way his pointy ears twitch, he hears your pulse. You know from the way that his nostrils flare that he smells your arousal, the slick that dampens your underthings just to be this close to him again after his little stunt today.

“If my observations are correct… and they usually are…” he purrs, even though the stack of evidence to the contrary is vast. But you bite your tongue as he continues, your heart leaping at the topic he is about to breach. “You sound and smell eager to discuss this topic if dhampires, my darling.”

You swallow, watching so heated and frozen as he slides so gracefully to place the weight of that tome in your own lap, his fingers removing the half-eaten apple from your fingers to toss to the side. Then he brings their sticky, juicy tips to his mouth to suck them clean.

You moan, unbidden, at the wet and vigor with which his tongue cleans every crevice of those digits.

“Now, I’d hate to be left wondering just why my intelligent, little darling would withhold such a vital… potent… part of my unrevealed powers as a vampire?” he sets your hand back on your thigh, a little extra brush of his fingers, returning to trace that seam inside your breaches as he had before. “Is she… curious? Afraid? Is this why she has been just so hesitant during our…” he grips your chin, turning your head with commanding force until there is nowhere else to look but his deep crimson eyes, “…late night trysts?”

“It’s not something one just… brings up, Astarion,” you try to flatten your tone, even as that one hand still traces up and around your thigh. “It’s just not… done…”

Something about his eyes softens, “It would be important to discuss, you know, for there is more that I would like to share with you than just witty banter and blood…” his tone dips low into a rumble. “It’s not something I would have known, not a concern I would have shared until I knew of it…”

“There’s more to it than you might know,” you squeak as his fingers press into that slot between your legs. “Now that you’re well-fed, you’ll feel actual….”

You swallow the word. His touch presses hard enough into your folds through your breaches to make them soaked. And you, wanton you, you give a breath and a buck of your hips to keep his fingers there.

“Pleasure,” he smirks, eyes scanning your face as your force your eyes back open, halfway at least. “Yes, I gathered as much. The more I feed, the more I come alive… alive enough to perhaps even bestow a new life…” he squints a grin at you, your mouth slack as he draws that touch just as hard again, “…perhaps one day.”

You arch your body, trying to slip closer. Your secret is out, your anxious thoughts over clandestine information dispersed in the air. And so, the next words from your mouth just build on all that you had been swallowing down.

“Yes, perhaps one day…” you sigh, leaning back on your hands to try to give him full access to your cunt. “Perhaps one day, we could test out those powers together.” Your voice shakes with excitement, it’s pressed with the sincerity you feel for him.

“Oh, my love,” he smirks and reaches both arms around your waist. That newfound strength pulls you flush into his lap, until your molten, silk-soaked center presses against where he’s hardening. “You always know what to say… Seems like quite the power that will take much preparation and proper timing…” He brings your fingers back to his lips as he kisses them softly. “I’d have to feed on more than just a bear and more than just sips from my little treat, sweet as you are…”

You nod, once or twice, before losing yourself in the bliss of his tongue on the tingling inner skin of your wrist. Barely more than a lap before his fangs pierce your skin and suck you down. Your very essence, your living blood pools in his belly, you feel it coursing in his veins. It fills him and hardens him beneath your hips in an instant.

“Well, practice makes perfect you know,” he croons, bloodied lips barely hovering off your own. “I can tell from your scent you are not… in season…. And I have only had the single little taste.”

You pant, writhing at the scratch of your clothing, you long to rip it off and toss it where your book has long since been abandoned. “Sounds right to me,” you hiss, arms tucking around his neck to lower those arrogant stupidly handsome lips to your mouth.

Astarion’s throat rumbles with a growl, the taste of your blood fresh in his mouth as he rolls you on your back. Primal. Feral. He’s your powerful vampire, blood in his body, lust in his brain. And you want to put it all to the test—your own little experiment to match his enthusiastic desire for you. His touch is lightening fast and strong, pulling off your clothing, swift and sure and careful until every inch of your bodies are bare.

Strength hums in his muscles, even as his hands gently caress your cheek, your neck still sore from all his feeding. His body presses you into the pile of blankets that cover his plank of a bed. His hips grind your belly, your thighs are pulled almost against your chest until you’re spread wide open for him. But for every jolt of his cock as it prods above you and drips his early cum on to your belly, his kisses on your lips are sweet, gentle. A silent movement of gratitude for all your willing aid. Those fingers drag their slightly warmed touch around your breast, kneading it tenderly. With every arch of your back, you can almost catch the base of his cock inside your folds.

And you shake. You quiver. You’d had a few lovers, mostly boring and few and far between. But never has your body burned for anyone like it does for him.

As if his vampire touch is calling your blood to pool beneath it. Not one traditional strength, but with Astarion, you aren’t totally sure he doesn’t have some unnatural ability to command your body. To make your blood pound and sing just for him.

“What a good girl,” he rasps, a grind of his hips to send that cock near your navel, over your skin. “I can feel your heat for me from here. Just waiting to be fucked full.” His mouth descends quickly but carefully, only taking a single nipple in his lips. Sucking hard, he pops off with a loud wet noise.

Almost as loud as your moan.

“So ready, aren’t you?” His question weighs you down, your eyes half shut to savor the way he drags back with that length, sliding it in just an inch or so into your aching sex. “I’m waiting…” he growls, and you sob as he pulls even that little bit of his tip back out.

“Yes, hells below, yes,” you pant, hands flying to claw into his ass. Pulling him towards your throbbing core.

That blunted tip prods just barely inside you again. “You want me to fill you?” he rasps.

You nod, your teeth biting your lip hard enough to bleed.

“You want me to fill your belly like you let me fill mine with your sweet blood?” he grips his arms around your shoulders, pressing harder into, cock sliding in another little bit. “Fuck you so many times, my cum will drip from you for days?”

“Yes, Astarion…” you breathe, his mouth devouring your words, ready to swallow your cry as he does, finally, fill you.

You feel the gravity of his body crushing you, his legs braced with every tendon taught as he snaps his hips into. It’s so deep, so driving the way he fucks. And every thrust slaps your flesh and smacks his balls against your ass, but you love it. His breath dampens your collarbone, arms wrapped so tightly around you, you can do nothing but hold on for dear life. Your thighs burn from how they’re bent into your stomach almost, your folds leaking with arousal, and the drag of his cock touches every part of your walls and slams against your channel’s end.

He licks your shoulder, wet tongue lapping up to the artery in your neck. Where it pulses and dances in time with his beat inside you. Flushed and boiling, speared on his length, you pant, suffocated deliciously until you burst. Your visions swimming and muscles contorting in his press, you scream for him. You can hear your arousal, your slick, coating his thighs as his thrusts only increase with speed.

Lifting his head, he sweeps a hand down your sweat-drenched belly, palm bracing just below your navel. His push is relentless, hard and gradual enough you feel it behind your belly, how he gives you resistance from outside against that constant ramming of his cock at your deepest point. It’s enough to throw you into another coil of bliss instantly. “Good girl, so wet and dirty and waiting to be filled…'' he finally speaks through his panting. And he pushes on your belly once more, grunting with each fuck as he comes undone.

As he thrusts and spills his seed, prodding the full length of him to the deepest point yet. You can feel it almost sticking through your skin as he pulses. As he spills, burst after burst, he still rams that end of your cunt.

Beads of sweat drip from his forehead as he looks down your body, and how your skin is wet and flushed and marked from where he gripped you so fiercely.

He smiles and licks his lips. You try to clamber out, but his hand only comes to rest on your shoulder. “Ah ah,” he tutts his tongue at you, slipping out, only to take two of his fingers to play in your mix of cum, slipping it back inside you over and over again. “You’ll need to practice too, and you’ll need to rest to keep all of me inside of you.”

You shudder, a smile wide on your mouth, aroused and embraced, half hidden behind the back of your hand as you cover your face.

“Tch,” he chides you, pulling that hand from your face, “none of that, my darling. I’ll watch every bit of your blush darken your cheek until you’re ready to go again.”

“Again?” you choke. Your hips already feeling stretched and sore, you lay them flat and try to ease the aches.

“Oh yes,” he purrs, “you’ll have to build your strength the old fashioned way, my treat. Now,” he gives your ass a little smack on the side as he lifts it, “on your knees, darling…”

You finally take a breath, freed from his wiry, heavy frame. One cool hand settles between your shoulder blades to have you rest your head on his bedding. But that other hand pulls your hips up, slipping through your juices and teasing your clit until you buck back against his belly. You breathe contentedly, savoring the way his fingers caress you, worship you.

You close your eyes, wriggle your hips, already craving that stretching fullness inside you. A future with him at your side during the day as your strong, well fed vampire… and on your back and knees and belly and any way he would want you during the long nights with your virile lover.

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pursuitseternal · 1 month

Text

“Beginning Anew:” graveyard intimacy in “Our Blood is Thicker”

(Ascended) Astarion x Cordehlia (Tav) | E | 3.3K

🎨 By official illustrator @marimosalad

Summary: After the fall of the Netherbrain, the Vampire Ascendant and the Bone Picker have worked to help rebuild in the aftermath. But now, in the night, they seek a moment for them, burying their pasts and embracing their future, side by side until the world falls down.

CW: Graveyard sex, semi-public sex, Cocky AA gloating he teeeechnically killed her, Cordehlia having none of that, sub/dom switching, hope for the future side by side.

Previous ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 21:

Beginning Anew

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Fires still burned, the filth of battle not unfamiliar to Cordehlia as she walked the Lower City after dark. But what was unfamiliar this time, was the warm hand laced in hers, the gentle sway of his body so close beside her. She sighed, loving the way they brushed every other step over the cobblestones.

It was done, over. Enemies defeated and villains put to the blade.

Some of her friends were lost to other places, other realms and destinies already determined to be their ends. Her heart ached for the fallen, for faces that she could easily see again and others… not quite so easily. But that was battle, loss and heartache lacing the sweetness of victory. Only this time, she wasn’t alone in her triumph.

She had him.

They had barely slept the last two days, rebuilding and guiding the citizens of the City, not to mention escaping every prying eye that wished to see the Vampire Ascendant and the Bone Picker, the stuff of legends, the pair of them. But for now, they walked in the quiet silence of night through mostly empty streets. Heading back to the Elfsong, thankful it was still standing.

From the corner of her eye, she saw his lip twist in that rakish smirk for the briefest of seconds.

“Come, my love,” he pulled her into the adjacent alley, deeper into the shadow, black so dark, she could see that faintly lingering glow in his eyes. That tingle of his new magic tickled over her skin, leaping from his touch to dance up the back of her hand.

“Now where, Ancunín?” Cordehlia hissed, teasing but gleeful as she hurried in his wake. Pulled by him, hand in hand. A gesture they had shared along elven paths and shady glades, only this time it was down rubble-filled streets. But she was just content to be following him at all. To follow him, her heart in his chest, for eternity.

He gave that teasing giggle low in his chest. “That should be Lord Ancunín, my sweet, but I’ll let it slide for you…”

Her hand, like lightning now that she mastered her new vampiric strength, flew for the curve of his ass, giving it a punishing squeeze through his suede and leather trousers. “Behave,” she smirked up at him as he gave her a mocking scowl, “my Lord.”

“Yes, dear,” he shook his head, a sultry, sinister smile that showed all his teeth caught in the dim light as he led them to make one final turn. He took note of the way her cool hand clutched harder in his as they entered under the gate of the cemetery.

She knew right where he was headed, begrudgingly, she looked into his softly smirking face as they stood at the foot of his headstone. “Why?” was all she could say.

His palm caressed her cheek, that warm touch grounding her even as her undead heart began to pound hard, if slowly, in her chest. “Now that our enemies have fallen, it’s time to start anew, don’t you think? The Ascendant and his Raven?”

“You mean the Bone Picker and her devoted husband, don’t you?” she snickered, a bit irked and yet…. Something about being his made her stomach flutter and coil with that constant need for satisfaction.

“What about, Lord and Lady Ancunín, hmm?” he pulled her flush against his body, that damned beaded jacket again, now his new favorite, scratching through the silk of her new chemise. “What we were always wanting to be… destined to be, don’t you think?”

Hand braced in the center of his chest, her every new sense could hear his heart thumping, feel the blood rush in his veins again, smell it beginning to race and pool in certain parts of his anatomy.

As if she didn’t always know the instant he grew hard for her.

“Are you seriously thinking about…” she arched her eyes wryly at him, words failing her as she chose to just grab for his erection instead. He just grinded that thickening length through his leathers into her palm. A laugh in her ear as she felt his warm breath inhaling her scent. “You know we are in a graveyard?” she taunted.

“Yes,” he chuckled louder.

“And that we are standing at your gravesite, as much of a lie as it is…”

His tongue trapped the soft bottom of her ear to suck it gently into his mouth. “Yes,” he rasped, a bit rougher in his throat.

“And you do know this is a place where I now have not one, but two horrible memories of laying near unconscious, my head near your own… headstone, right?” She shuddered under his warm lips, pulling him tighter into her hand on his cock by the small of his back.

“Yes,” he replied, “and don’t you think we grieve those poor memories to make a new one here… together?” His words were honey-sweet, balm on her wounds. His nose nuzzled against her neck, breathing in her scent, she knew.

“I’ve been… yours… for a tenday, and you’re already an absolute freak, wanting to fuck on your grave…”

“You love me, though,” he smirked, shaking his head. “It’s not like you wouldn’t do the same, little love.”

“Not my grave, not my name in stone,” she shoved him by his cock, making him grunt so sweetly as he withdrew just a breath.

“It can be arranged you know,” he forced his voice steady, trying so hard to keep that silken seduction in his tone. “After all, I did kill you.”

“Please,” she huffed, rolling her now crimson eyes as she stilled her hand and eased it off his erection. “In a fair fight, I would still kick your arse, Astarion… good thing you Ascended, just to even the odds.” Cordehlia grinned, lips twisting to one side as she let her touch fall. His eyes widened in hurt, or panic, or desperation as he caught her wrist to replace it there between his legs immediately.

“My love, I am the Vampire Ascendant now,” he purred into her face, “every fight is fair… for me.”

Cordehlia let out a very loud, nasally, and ugly noise, cracking into that smile that warmed his heart and showed all her teeth, fangs included now. “Great,” she rolled her eyes, a show of petulance, “As if you need the entitlement or fodder for your arrogance, my love.”

“Just what I’m due,” he brushed his lips against hers, her own so eager for another taste. Her breath forced its way into his mouth, her teeth nipping gently one his lips, longing for a taste, he knew. “Hungry?” he rasped into her kiss, and she was only able to nod and bite just a bit harder with her blunted teeth.

“Famished,” she whispered, licking her tongue over the roof of his mouth.

“Then kneel, my darling…”

She flashed him a look of narrowed eyes and twisted mouth, irritated but intrigued. Suspicious but aroused. Her fingers slid with tantalizing lightness down the sinews of his thighs, her knees bending as he smirked with tickled delight. The sight of his love, playful minx she was, looking for any chance she could to bend his rules. That glint in her eye, ancient and youthful, said as much.

She loved this. But she wouldn’t let him know that entirely. Not yet. For now, she was happy to taunt and gaze at his forever-ethereal beauty. The moon lit the night air behind him, those silver curls fairly glowing, kissed by the stars, just as they alway had each evening they would find one another. Perhaps he gazed with slightly more hunger down at her now, perhaps he craved having his way more than before… but not so much as he had once, the spoiled son of a noble family, destined for greatness.

And greatness finally found him, she could see he thought as much. He sighed contentedly, eagerly, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw to gasp so carefully under her chin.

To tilt her mouth just right for his kiss.

Ravenous, she arched upwards for his lips, working her mouth with all heat and fangs and mouth-watering desire. Until something warm dripped from their lips, the coppery tang of his own blood coating his tongue before he even felt the ice-cold prick of her own fang at the corner of his mouth. “Tch, naughty,” he hissed as she sucked the blood that seeped more with every lick.

Cordehlia only laughed from her throat in reply, hand gripping mercilessly at the outline of his cock, making him swallow another grunt. Laughing and sucking, she freed those small brass buttons down the supple leather of his breeches.

A sigh of pure and heated contentment in his throat, he stood to watch. Those crimson eyes gleamed at him, bright with her own lust, sparkling with mischief. Her lips twitched, waiting to catch his cock the second it sprung free.

Her fingers, warmed from even the littlest drops of his blood in her belly now, she rubbed his length. All silken skin and risen veins, she stroked him in one hand and palmed the smooth, tight skin of his balls in her other. A gentle thrust of his hips, he could feel her breath as she inhaled his musk and salt from the v of his waist. But those lips didn’t aim for his pulsing, seeping head.

Oh no, his bride wrapped her warming lips fully around one of his balls. The groan he made echoed off the walls behind her, he needed to lean one hand on his own headstone just to steady his legs. She licked, first one then the other, tongue swirling over him as he could feel them tighten, as his cock twitched against her ear, resisting her gently hold around it.

“Gently,” he hissed, the cold drag of her fangs threatening the soft velvet skin in her mouth. And she just laughed.

“Afraid?” she murmured rubbing her nose into that hard plane of his hips.

“Mmm, I will only ever admit that to you, my treasure…” he braced himself for more. For another scrape of her teeth over his most sensitive of parts. The rush of fear and lust, of pleasure and pain sent arousal like molten heat right to his core.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” she purred, aiming those fangs for the side of his thigh buried inside the gap in his trousers. A small snarl reached her ears from above, muscles under her mouth bunched as she lapped the blood that flowed.

His hand moved into her fiery hair, guiding her blushing face back before him, but instead of shoving his cock between her plump lips, he sank to his knees too, her lips too tantalizing not to consume for his own. Her body too precious to keep at his feet for a moment longer.

Those strong hands, all too familiar with blade and bow, gripped into the collar of his jacket, twisting him and pulling him to crush her into the earth, their heads almost knocking against that aged stone. He growled, his thumb prying open her jaw to dive his tongue in deeper. “Cordehlia,” his voice dripping like honey and brushing like silk, “I love the taste of you… after you’ve tasted me.”

Her smile answered as it pressed into his mouth. Cordehlia only wanted more, wanted to glut on his love for her, to feed until she was drunk on his lust and his cock and his desire. She bucked and wriggled and slid her own sensible trousers free. One of his free hands worked them off as well, until she could kick them to the side, her supple boots joining them. Satisfied at last, she slunk a hand to touch her own slickness. But Astarion only growled, a push of his mind against her own, desirous and disapproving. Instead he chuckled into their working mouths. He grinded heavily into her hips, hooking his knee into her own.

Spreading her.

Straining her apart until he could glide his length through that pool between her thighs. Her craving was palpable, her hunger filled his own stomach. One warm palm at the back of her head, and he placed her panting mouth on his own throbbing neck.

Fangs sank into his skin, his cock thrusting deep into her dripping folds. Swallow by swallow as she drank from him, she grew warm, igniting little by little from within, around him, under him. Just a bit more, he split her by her thigh. Making her gasp with a mouthful of his blood. Making her arch just right to take him in so deep, that throbbing head of his cock pressed against the end of her channel.

For laying on a patch of land to hold the dead, he had never felt so alive. Not with his pulse raging through his veins, from the tips of his ears to the twitch of his cock buried deep inside her.

Always eager, ravenous for more, demanding and needy… it didn’t matter if it was their first time

By that ancient stream or the current time, here and now by his headstone, she wouldn’t have him any other way.

Buried to his balls, eyes fixed into hers, one heart and one breath between them. Lovers then and now and for eternity. “Until the world falls down…” he had said before. And that glimmer in his moonstruck, crimson eyes now as he fucked into her repeated it over and over again.

Nails dug into the small span of his back, wherever she could reach his flesh. Her touch gripped hard beneath the band of his trousers to pull him in. As if he needed the enticement. The way their foreheads pressed tightly, their mouths slack and eyes locked… Cordehlia groaned, her own strength clutched hard around him, legs around his waist, fingers dug deep enough for blood as she bucked in bliss. He grit his teeth, savoring the way she pulsed around him, trying to to be undone at the same moment. Biting his tongue, closing his eyes, he forced himself to last through it, even as her ecstacy swept him away. The weight of her hand at his nape pulled his mouth to her tongue. Instantly she lapped at the blood that dripped from where he nipped himself.

Of course she would sense it, hunger for it. He just laughed as he stilled inside her at that moment. Letting her feast on him. “Enough?” he purred, a little unbidden roll of his hips through her extra-slick folds now.

“Never,” her grip already pulled at his collar, mouth pressed sharply into hers. He hissed, the pressure of her tight walls, the rock of her hips to take him deeper… the taste of his blood on their tongues. It was everything he ever wanted.

Well… maybe… one more thing…

Cradling her head in his palm, he sank his fang into her working lower lip, that floral taste that was so truly hers alone filled his mouth. One swallow of her essence, and he burst. Pulse after pulse, he erupted and shook as he came. His breath stifled by her mouth, it was all he could do to close his eyes to the moonlight in the graveyard and let his body ride hard and fast.

Until the only sound in that vacant yard was their rapid breathing, the slick of their sexes, and the racing of his one Ascendant heart.

He kept his voice soft, fingers stroking over that arch of her cheek, those crimson eyes fluttering and filling with tears unshed to catch the starlight. Almost like the silver they once were. “Do you remember what I promised you that last night before I… left you?”

Cordehlia gave a wet laugh, just the one. “Do you remember, Ancunín?” she teased through the surge of tenderness that warmed her inside and out.

He quirked his brows, mock offense darkening his sharp features even as he smiled. “How dare you…” he taunted back, pinching her earlobe as if she were a naughty little elfling. Which she always would be to him, deep down. “I recall promising you wardrobes of silken dresses, notoriety as the beautiful bride of a powerful man… that the City would kneel at your feet, my darling…”

Now she sniffed back her tears as they flowed for real, turning her head to hide them from him. “That was so long ago, Astarion…. I, I don’t even know if I am the same. I don’t know if I belong in a world of luxury and finery and butter-soft dresses…”

His fingers just kept stroking her face. Waiting.

She sighed. “I think she died when she thought you dead, when she saw you all those years ago in the tavern…”

He silenced her with a kiss, tender and tasting and soft as he could. His thumb wiped off a single cool tear as it trekked down her face.

“We are both dead and remade you know,” he whispered as he looked down at her again. “I’d like to still give you whatever you desire. Your delight is mine. Your sorrow, mine.”

Her eyes struggled to meet his gaze, but once they did, she grinned gently. “And yours mine,” she swallowed through her crying.

Astarion swept his hand to her hair now, soft and fiery. Just like her. “I would like nothing better than to spoil you for eternity, to rebuild this city or travel or battle or return to our home country to remember or seclude ourselves in a palace… as long as we do it together.”

“I’d like that,” she smiled wider, her own hand cupping his fiercely grinning face. “As long as we do it together.”

Lips brushed, sweet and chaste, a kiss of promise and hope and future—a caress of one breath, one blood, one heart. As they broke apart, she shoved him in the chest, trying to sit up.

A smirk on his lips, he let her, busying himself with arranging his clothes back properly as he stood. Lost in the moonlight, gazing into the sky, he only turned once he heard the scratch of a dagger into stone.

She was a sight, burnished hair spilling over her shoulders, barely clothed again, and that shining dagger in her hand. With every scratch, she carved into the headstone beneath his name.

With her own.

Cordehlia Aquilae, followed by her own years of life, far exceeding his inscribed above.

He just watched until she was done, standing to return her weapon home, dusting off her hands as she turned. “Don’t let it get to your head you killed me, Astarion,” she teased and drew closer. “You really don’t need to inflate your pride any more.”

He answered with that same wicked look, all smirking lips and devouring eyes. “Our little secret then,” he purred, pulling her close once she was within reach. “My eternal lover, beyond the reach of time… Cordehlia Aquilae…”

She shook her head, raising on her toes to kiss him again. “No, she’s dead.” The words rang with a hint of sadness. But then he looked into her eyes. Bright with the stars, her cheeks flushed with his blood in her veins. “Cordehlia Ancunín, that is if you’ll have me…”

“Forever,” he interrupted before she could say anything else disparaging, “in every position, in any place… Never again from my side.”

“Promise?” she rasped, a grind of her hips against his that ignited his body again. So soon

“I promise you Cordehlia, my bride, my love…” he pulled her close, close enough to feel her body still warm from their first coupling. The first of many tonight, he smirked so assuredly. “We have a beautiful if probably bloody future ahead of us, my love.” His finger brought her rosy lips, her glinting fanged-smile against his own. “I can hardly wait.”

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Thus ends the Pale Elf Quest AU for these romantic heroes. Thank you for enduring the angst to get to the happy ending.

But….. it’s not really an ending. There will be more for Corstarion 💞🗡️. I mean, now they’re both powerful, happy, menaces of a vampiric nature. I will add on epilogue chapters, but for now this chapter does mark the “end” of the Quest in canon.

Watch this page for their Ascendant and Raven adventures however. And yes, they will be even hornier and bloodthirsty now.

♥️ Pursuits

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pursuitseternal · 1 month

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💞🗡️🐦‍⬛ …It gets better from there….

Start their story👇

Bitter Ascension

Dedicated to my beloved author and bestie @pursuitseternal 🌹

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pursuitseternal · 1 month

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“The Sixth Day:” packed with literal steam in “Antics of the Newly Ascended”

Ascended Astarion x f!Reader | E | 3.7 K of mist form issues and smut

(Sfw) 🎨 by @mouldering-casket —nsfw version, on ao3 link and their X account.

Summary: You promise him anything if he can just get his powers under control for once… only anything means you are at his loving, demanding mercy as he finally takes you in that way you have been hesitant over…

CW: a$$ play, double penetration, illicit use of Mage Hand, Wet Cat Astarion, bathing foreplay and aftercare.

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦��💦💦💦

“Astarion, did you get those arrows of dragon slay….”

Your hand pushes the door to your rooms open. Those private rooms that have already seen nearly every hole of yours filled with his cock or fingers or tongue… and your fingers filling all of his too.

You hear mostly silence… just a sort of slow swirling sound.

“I need a moment, my consort,” he speaks to your mind, that voice trying hard to ring with power and purr. But he just sounds… caught.

“Maybe I can help, I told you to check the trunk….”

Shutting the door, you see why he’s using your connection. Why he can’t just talk to you with those sultry, smirking lips.

Why he’s taking so fucking long.

“Mist? Really? We need the Vampire Ascendant in mist form to get the arrows, now?” You laugh as it starts to form a new shape. But only… half of him materializes.

His strapping, leather-bound legs form easily, but the rest of him… does not. A small cloud of mist hovers over his legs as he sways uncomfortably.

“Fucking hells, Astarion…” you grumble, burying your face in both your hands. “All I can do is ask… why.”

“Why, what, my treasure?” His voice still purrs against your mind. “At least my best and most prominent qualities manifest—“

“No,” you hold a hand up just in case. “No, Astairon, I am not going to be railed by only your lower half, before you start insinuating anything even close to that.”

His hips cock to his left. Annoyed. “We won’t know what we’re missing, my darling…”

“For fucks sake, no,” you do smirk back at him. “Don’t make me spank you, mighty Ascendant. Not like you could fight back.”

“Oh… my love. You always know what to say…”

You roll your eyes, over the top dramatically. “We best not keep them waiting, you know. You either figure this out, or I’m getting Gale. We need those arrows if we are going to face Ansur.” And you flop down to sit on the edge of the bed.

He begins to pace, or at least half of him does. “Fine,” he growls. “But… I might need a hand.”

“As long as it’s not pumping your cock below your diapperated torso, I’m fine with that.” You can feel the shiver of desire caress your core, heating down your bond. “Tell you what, my love…”

You stand and cross to him… whatever he is. Sticking your hand into the bubble of mist, you feel it leap to brush your skin, as if he can’t get close enough to you. “You make your whole body reappear immediately, and I’ll let you try that… thing… you’ve been asking for…”

You can’t see his face, but even as he breathes the single word, “Really?” you can picture that ravenous gleam in his narrowed eyes, that cant of his left brow. That look that makes you quiver under the gaze of your predator, knowing you are his next meal.

“Oh… yes,” you purr, reaching a single finger to trace up that line of his chorded thigh, stopping before it disappeared into the mists. “But only if you can….”

Pop.

A slight tingling wave of magic, and suddenly his upper half materializes, arms already wrapping tightly around you, ravenous lips beginning to tear into yours. The beading of his fine jacket presses into your sensible tunic, beads so sharp and refined. Just like him.

“Easy, my love,” you giggle as he begins that caress, that little trickle of lust that always ends with him ravaging you. “We have to get to…”

But a squeal replaces your words, his hand cupping on your mound, fingers already working through the buckskin to press between your folds. The other set of dancing lithe fingers claws hard into the curve of your backside. Friction rubs hard against both, sweeping in tandem and making you pant in an instant. You ride those hands, strong and long and warm as he fucks his fingers against your trousers.

You gasp, not expecting to enjoy the pressure on your ass, the tickle of his pressing touch brushing places yet to be explored….

But with one of his deep and rumbling laughs, he leaves your body, just the cold draft of his haste to cross the room and retrieve those godsforsaken arrows you had mentioned.

“Best not keep them waiting…” he spits your words back at you, that clever, rakish grin on his features as he watches you writhing in place. Knees buckle as you struggle to stand after… all that.

“Seriously…” you grumble again, rolling your own pair of crimson eyes at his game. “I offer you to do what you will with me… and you…” your words end with a frustrated groan as he shoves three arrows in your flapping, gesticulating hands.

“I won’t be giving them any more reason to think me a selfish bastard than I already have, darling…” he gives you that half-lidded, hungry stare that makes your innards melt. “You’ll just have to wait to give me what I want until we return, my consort. We are so close, I can almost taste it.” He lets his pink tongue linger on his last words, wetting his lips, a performative little display meant to leave you in agony.

And fucking hells, doesn’t it just.

In battle, your mind half flits through fantasy after nasty fantasy, no matter how many arrows get fired or bodies hit the ground.

Astarion didn’t fail to keep those scarlet eyes locked into yours every chance he could. His lithe hands brushing your body every time you crept in close to him. Your ass, even through armor, was decidedly his favorite to toy with. Little pats or strokes in passing… even in the midst of bloodshed and battle.

And once that armor is off, once you make it back with your weary party to the Elfsong… you are fair game. You nearly make it up the stairs, the companionship and warmth of a hot meal calling you. Until that Ascendant Lord purrs his excuses from the top of the stairs. He begs their forgiveness, hopes their stomachs enjoy their meals and that their ears don’t heed the noises he’s about to draw from his consort’s mouth.

You hold tight to the railing, shaking your head at the sound of their groans from inside the doors before your love shuts them tight.

Head tilted, eyes narrowed, and lips twisted just so… he races for you, sweeping you over his shoulder like the spoils of war you are. His treasure.

Nothing but the suede of your leathers on your legs and the damp tunic hanging loose from your frame, you feel every drag of his fingers as he grips your thighs. Your world hangs upside down, weightless. At his mercy as he kicks open your doors and carries you into the inner dark. Doors close with another kick, Astarion does not even bother to turn. The heel of his boot collides with wood, a fraction of a second before his palm does the same with your ass cheek.

You squirm on his shoulder, crying in surprise at the ripple of slight pain. “Astarion!” you chastise. But he only laughs as he sets you back on your feet. You smell it in the air, the floral oils and soaps you use for bathing wafting on the steam. Your feet settle on the floor, your body dragging down his front, but you ignore that virile smirk and ravenous gleam in his eyes. Scanning the room, you breathe the scents in the air. A steaming bath… soaps and towels and oils lining all within reach. “Seems a bit much for how I incentivized you earlier to get your head out of your ass…”

“Mmmm,” he purred, hands racing down to cup the full curves of your backside. “Yes…. Get my head out of my ass… so I can finally sink deep into yours.”

Gods, your cheeks ignite, your belly dropping to your toes as if you were falling through the air.

“But, my little love, it’s so much more to me than you finding new ways to trust me,” he whispers, those narrowed, hungry eyes softening just slightly as you turn to meet his gaze. “You have been, ahem,” he clears his throat awkwardly, that veneer of the Ascendant cracking with his sincerity, “been patient with me, keeping my… limitations secret as I learn just what these powers can do for me… for us.”

“So you’re eager to buy my continued silence… and fuck me in the ass?” you taunt in reply, slowly teasing your soiled shirt up from your belly.

“Well…” he gives that silken purr, hands freeing her body of that fabric, “you are my consort, and I’ll never leave you wanting, darling. I’ll wrap you in every luxury, bathe you in the finest oils, make every intimate moment you offer me the most… exquisite union for us both, because…” his velvety voice trails off with a deep throated chuckle. Because I love you, the words simmer in your mind, a caress from his thoughts against yours.

You smile softly, your body on fire, your heart welling with that feeling, even if he is too proud to voice it aloud. “Don’t I feel pampered and spoiled, brimming with anticipation…”

“You’re about to feel a lot more than anticipation brimming inside you, but,” he sighs and pulls off his own shirt in one fluid jerk, “let’s not get too hasty, hmm?”

Before he deigns to slip off his own trousers, his hands tear off your soiled shirt, your trousers freed from your skin in a matter of moments before he sweeps you up and deposits you in that warm and foaming water. Rose scented steam billows around you and permeates your every breath. You close your eyes and sink into the waters completely, letting it cover your head and drench your every inch.

You feel the water surge higher, two long, chorded legs fold to sit beside you. Arms pull you above the water, and you gasp, his body slipping around you, the perfect throne as he shifts you to face him. You feel that telltale prodding against your belly as he slides you closer, your legs brought to wrap firmly around his narrow hips. His eyes seem to devour you. That smirk on his lips that has always made you melt glints at you, his hands shift you just a little higher, fingers teasing around the soft swell of your ass.

You shudder, that molten touch barely sweeping you apart, a little towards that tight and puckered hole. Gasping, you flinch, making him laugh as he steals his hand back between your bodies, returning to all-too-familiar territory. That rumbling laughter in his chest rattles into your frame as his touch braces you closer, nails digging into your lower back.

Those other long, skilled digits take command of your folds, drawing heavy breaths from your mouth as he digs in deeper and toys with your clit as if it’s his favorite plaything. It’s a matter of seconds, a moment of winding tight in the hot water, the heady scent of rose petals in your nose and on your tongue as he drives you without mercy or reprieve towards orgasm. Your head rests on the hard edge of his collarbone, and you wince and shudder as that one hand throws you into the hot release that your body demands.

His name on your lips, you squirm and buck as heat finally explodes inside you, as your slick walls clutch hard in waves. Those warm lips of his suckle on the curves of your ear, rubbing their damp to the bend in your neck. “Now, let me show you my deepest gratitude, my little love, and trust me,” he breathes against your flesh in that velvet voice of his. “I promise you, I know what I’m doing…”

“A little too well at times, Astarion,” you breathlessly laugh in reply, trying hard to raise your head. But his hands rests its weight into your damp mess of hair, keeping you cradled on his shoulder.

“You’ll thank me, someday,” he rasps that deep laugh as he slides your hips to angle just right away from him. Every muscle clenches and shivers as his fingers explore that tight circle, the spoils you’ve offered.

That hand keeps you pinned in place, your ear shoved against his jugular to hear how his heart thumps harder the more he begins to circle around that untouched hole. A moan pours from your lips when he teases that soft and tight skin more, as he begins to dip inside and stretch you out.

Just a little, just playful and light, but already you groan at the new and overwhelming lightning it makes course through your nerves. “Ah!” you whimper with every teasing touch inside you.

“You’re doing so very well, my pet,” his other hand lifts your chin with the warm pads of his fingers. “You’ll take more, like the good girl you are…”

A noise leaves your throat, desperation and trembling fear whimpering in response. But that silken touch only glides another digit into you. Stretching, hot and painful, it makes you recall that first time anything stretched your cunt so full.

“Don’t worry… I’ll protect you… take good care of you… as if you were my own little virginal consort…” Silken touch and velvet voice sends shivers down your spine until your toes curl into themselves.

A third finger enters you, his mouth devours the gasping moan that slips free. His other hand returns to catch that aching clit again, and that water around you suddenly feels ice cool against your skin.

Decimated, shaking, exploding. Your walls clench around nothing and yet you feel yourself bursting full. Fangs bite your bottom lip as you gasp, unable to shut your mouth or swallow or move or…

You taste your blood on your own tongue, the warm pad of his own sweeping to lap and lips closing to suck you clean. Even as you wait for your world to stop tilting so you can recover in his arms, one more gasp rushes from your mouth as he slips from inside you.

He stands and pulls you with him from the waters. Lithe fingers grip yours to guide you safely over the edge. You watch his cock prod prominently through the gap of his towel as he tucks it around his waist, its little jolts as you stare and smile only serve to make you giggle and make you wetter.

Hastily, you dab yourself dry, and that gleam in his own crimson eyes signals the end of his patience. That towel gets ripped from your hands and flung somewhere on the floor behind you. Astarion’s eyes scan over you, so hungry and so smug. Those hips cock, his laugh flexing those ridges of his stomach as he watches you growing more agitated and flustered. Until he beckons you closer with a crook of his finger. Wet feet patter loudly as you rush him, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling that insufferable, conceited smirk into your mouth so you can kiss it off his warm lips.

You notice one of his hands is closed around a small vial, his other pulls the towel he just secured around those etched and narrow hips of his. It flutters to the bed, a heap of white that he guides you towards. He’s delicate for once, laying you with reverent touch on your stomach, putting that little glass bottle between his teeth so he can run all ten of his skilled fingers over your skin with featherlight touch.

Your breath is ragged, head turned so you can glimpse every movement from the corner of your eye. That pointed gaze is fixed where his hands trace up and down your back, sometimes warm and soft, sometimes tickling and scratching his nails up and down your sides. He gives a low, rumbling chuckle as one hand starts to massage the globes of your ass, the other reaches for that bottle of clear oil. The cork pops as he pulls it free with his teeth, its warm slickness pours over your rear. He sweeps it into that seam, suddenly pushing that oil back into that hole, easier than before but just as… nice.

Pleasurable.

He spits the cork out, you hear it bounce quietly across the floor, the light scent of the oil the same as the bath, floral and sweet. Slick noises squelch somewhere behind you, and recognition sends a bolt of desire flooding to your core. He slathers it on his cock, beating, rubbing himself in his fist, even as his other hand teases you apart on his three fingers again.

And that’s when his well-oiled hands lift you to your knees, face still panting into your pillows.

Something cool and light sweeps up your seam, dipping deep into your cunt. You lift your chest just enough to watch from under how that magical touch of a Mage Hand thrusts over and over into your folds.

Finally, you groan, something to clench around. You relish it, that magical touch at last filling you in all the familiar ways. As if your vampire's cold touch has returned. You shiver, blissful and bucking.

Until you feel something warm again prodding just behind that already-filling touch. You know it, it’s blunt and oiled and hot and fleshy. “Breathe my Consort, even if you don’t need to any longer,” he chuckles, rolling his hips to thrust that hardened length up the crease of your ass. “You’re about to need to breathe, so don’t you forget how.”

You obey, the scents of your oils and soaps making your body limp, even as you sense his anticipation. His hand grips just beyond his cock’s head, sweeping more oil to make everything so slick over him, over you. And so hot. You do breathe, that prodding returning inside your ass, pushing inside you bit by agonizing bit. He groans, pausing, giving you the time to loosen, to take him at your leisure. Thank gods that Mage Hand hasn’t lost its charms, still pressing and filling you. And now, as he slides inside just that bit more, you are busting.

That magic touch in your cunt, that pressing pressure just beside it, they rub almost against one another, paper thinness separating them. And that sensation makes you forget to breathe. Especially as he works his way more and more, slowly and carefully.

Ever so skilled, he is. Like someone who has done this dance a thousand times, but with the knowledge and tenderness of one who worships your body. Who adores you.

Slowly, he withdraws, only to slip inside you again. Over and over, he takes his time as he takes you. Over and over, you try to breathe, air hitching every time his cock brushes against that other touch that buries inside your channel.

Never… never before have you been so filled, not with a cock or pleasure or love. To be so used and worshiped, to be touched gently and fucked roughly… to be trusted and to trust, it brings a little sting of tears to your eyes and not just from the suffocating bliss he’s drawing from you now.

You keep yourself panting, face buried in the bed as he slowly buries himself into you deeper, still deliberate and slow. Sometimes, they shove into you in synch, sometimes they piston against each other, opposing forces that fuck you back and forth. A single brush of fingers over your belly to catch your clit in his all too real touch is all you need to explode. So breathtakingly good. You clench around magic, the grind of that wam and hard length pushing you harder into waves and coils of pleasure you didn’t even think your undead body could handle.

Astarion picks up his pace, grunts in his throat, his voice rough and thick with his praises. “So beautiful, my very good girl,” he rasps, that addictive feeling of his hips snapping against your rear, that sound of slapping flesh sending another bout of shivers down your spine. “You lovely, tight thing… so good to me, spoiling me, my love.”

You barely hold yourself up on your knees, that touch inside you slipping out after the last tremors of your orgasm. His breath grows ragged. His fingers claw into your hips. His cock splits you past fullness to another realm of pleasure. Until, for as slowly as he entered you, he slips away.

You groan so loudly, you hear your voice ricochet from the wall. He beats his cock, hips and thighs still braced against your backside as you hear that wet rhythm of his self-pleasure. It takes only another beat for him to push against you with all his strength, to feel ropes of hot cum drip and trail down your back.

“Exquisite…” he sighs, warm touch painting white streaks over your cool skin through the mess he’s made all across your back. “Simply exquisite…” he proclaims proudly, voice rich like velvet and panting with exhaustion.

“Mmm,” you mumble into the bed beneath you, far too boneless to stand, far too pleasantly sore to do much more than lower your aching hips to the bed. “Am I?” you purr back as you barely turn your head.

“Indeed,” he chuckles and rises from the bed, “and you’ll be exquisite forever.” One hand massages your ass cheeks, and you moan and hiss in one unabashed noise. “Now, to clean you up, filthy thing. You really were detectable, you know.”

You giggle into your hand as you raise your head and toss your tangled mess of hair from your eyes. “Just don’t go trapping yourself as a mist too often, I don’t know how frequently my ass can serve as incentive, my love.”

He just cants his brow and flashes his fangs down at you, hovering at your bedside and creeping closer. A shock of magic and a caress of mist as he shifts once…. A pop and rush of power as he shifts back.

Fully this time.

Astarion laughs deeply and pulls you by the hand to your feet. “Seems you’re safe… for now, my darling.”

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