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pursuitseternal · 1 day

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“Treat Me:” tender loving aftercare from the Vampire Ascendant in “The Rogue You Were”

Ascended Astarion x Female Reader | E | 2K

For @starryjuicebox so he can tuck you into bed

Summary: He cradles you after a long session at his pleasure, and now the softness returns. He pampers, soothes, and cares for you, his beloved consort.

CW: soft A!A, mild injury tending, bath snuggles and hair washing, Oral female receiving, comfort, cuddling, and sunbathing.

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

“Such a good darling, an obedient pet…” his voice is a distant purr, your eyes barely opening as he lifts you down. The silken rope slithers from your wrists, the broad expanse of his shoulders catching your weight as you drape down his back. “Come on, my love, time to tend your love bites and other… markings,” he snickers quietly to himself.

You murmur something, too quiet for even your mind to register. The thump of his footfalls sounds muffled through the veil of pleasured sensations… too overstimulated from his intoxicating brand of pain and pleasure on these nights he spends with you in his special room… when he lets that edge of danger within him come out to play. You catch your breath, sensation slowly returning to your arms where he had you suspended. As he cradles you over his shoulder, carrying you up to your rooms, his fingers trace his bite marks that pepper the backs of your thighs and dot across the swell of your ass cheeks. And every inch of you is damp… blood, sweat, and cum, that heady mixture that coats your skin.

Closing your eyes, you let his touch caress, chasing away the fleeting flashes of pain from moments ago. You can smell the instant he brings you into your bathing chamber, the sharpness of his scent, of citrus and rosemary and brandy hits your nose and wakes you up. You raise your head to the dimly lit room, two dozen candles flickering in the purple of darkness makes everything shimmer. A snap of his fingers and a couple spells, Astarion fills the elegant marble bathing tub. He sets you cautiously on your feet first before handing you into the steaming water.

Crimson eyes flicker over your naked body as it sinks beneath the water, that bottle of potion shines a bit in the candlelight as he pours it into your tub. “Just a little something extra to provide you some… relief,” he snickers, dipping his elegant hand into the waters to stir it around. A soothing numbness targets your most sore and swollen parts, and you sigh. Your body easing into the water, you barely notice the ripples of Astarion slipping his body beside you. It barely registers, his arm wrapping around you, the warm water pouring down your neck to rinse off the blood… the trickles that run down your face as he wets your hair and washes it clean of sweat and more.

For a starved as you can be for his touch, right now, you have glutted on it, overstimulated and nearly numb to that now-gentle caress.

A far cry from his bruising, marking, claiming touches that pleasured and teased you for hours.

But now, you are his treasure, cradled in the crook of his shoulder, attentive hands washing every offending swipe of grime that discolors your soft skin. The scents of flowers… lavender to relax, roses to pamper… it fills your every breath as your body finally softens and soothes the aches he’s driven into your body to the bone. You begin to hear his velvet purr in your ear, sweet words of praise and gratitude that you did so well tonight, words to affirm his love for you, to soften the literal blows he rained on the fleshy, jiggling curves of your ass.

The pain is intense but brief, and the pleasure is always more than immense… but it’s these moments after that make it all warm and worth it. Little droplets of scented water fall on your cheek as his hand cups your face, his petal-soft lips pressing tenderly against yours.

“Astarion,” you breathe his name, addicted to the way it feels to moan it… after all, it’s been ripped from your lips and screamed and whimpered and sighed countless times night.

“Yes, my treasure?” he croons right into the shell of your ear, a little shimmy of his shoulders, just as he once did during those hazy, nostalgic days in your camp.

You snuggle into his neck, lazily running your tongue over the sensual sinews where his pulse throbs. “Please… I’m feeling oh… so… peckish,” you give a tired laugh, one he matches.

An equally worn out laugh in his throat, he takes his finger, perfectly manicured nail point dragging across his neck to let a trickle of his blood run for you. The scent of it hits your nose in an instant, rich and powerful and complex like the most refined of vintages. You barely lick your lips first before you swipe along the scarlet trail he’s left for you. And then you suck, that thick, heady blood of his so smooth on your tongue and down your throat.

Aches and pains fade away, your belly growing more and more full with every swallow. It hums in your veins and restores your own power to you. Those longer nails rake against your scalp, teasing your wet hair and petting you like the precious little thing you are to him. A contented sigh from your lips, you release from his skin, a listless, pleasured twist of your mouth when you smile at him.

The palm at the back of your head presses your chin to his warm, waiting tongue, and he licks your chin clean. “I do so love to taste you… after you’ve tasted me…” he rasps against your lips, his words flowing into another languorous kiss.

His lips twist against yours… some brilliant idea inside his silver-curled head that he wastes no time acting on. Water sloshes over the side of the tub as he stands, your body already in his arms, your mouth already being consumed by his tongue and lips and teeth. Supernatural, strong, secure… he carries you in his arms to the bedroom to set you down on your wiggly, wobbly legs and dry you off.

The moment you’re dry, you happily crawl into bed, the softness of your sheets cushions you, another layer of balm to your pleasured and battered body. In the muffled distance, you hear him toweling off, the bed frame creaking and the buckling of the mattress follows… the telltale signs he approaches. That warm, sinewy frame of his covers you, slotted between your thighs, and you hiss at the insistent friction.

“Don’t you fret, my dear,” he chuckles, deep and low and wicked in his chest. “Despite the evidence to the contrary…” he grinds his still-hard erection over your mound gently, “you’ve done so well, I have nothing of that sort on my mind, just a little treat for my… treat.”

His voice purrs, his lips kissing and sucking lovingly across your collarbone and then over the pillowy tops of your breasts. He kisses around the angry, red bite marks from before… careful not to tease your nipples hard again. That warm tongue swipes up through the valley of your chest between them, only to have him kissing his way lower… and lower still. Hot breath warms your folds, the only prelude to his fingers and tongue licking into you with perfect precision. He paces his lapping, slow and attentive and thorough. Those same little growls he makes as drinks your blood reverberate through your slickened pussy. Fingers tease inside you, catching and stroking that bundle of nerves hidden in your channel until you hear your own sloppy arousal weeping from around his fingers.

Ravenous, his tongue laps it up. Insistent and strong, he sweeps up every drop of your slick and brings it to swirl around your clit. So tired, your poor brain and dulled senses barely hear the gasps from your own lips, barely controlling the rhythmic buck of your hips to match his fingers and mouth that worship you.

His voice rumbles such pretty words, such saccharine epithets into your folds. “Pretty consort…” followed by the wet suck of his lips, “…little treat…” Growls of his own hunger tickle as he curls that tongue back to your clit, “…mine forever, my love…”.

You feel his hair in your hands, not knowing how or when you fisted it as he eats you, feasting on you… A low sigh from his mouth sends you careening, that warmth and pleasure blooming from your core to swallow any last traces of lancing pain. Limp, breathless, boneless… you feel as if you’re floating in the downy bed beneath you.

You brace yourself for a moment for that fullness and friction of his cock, but it never comes. Only a tender kiss inside your thigh at the joint and the comforting weight of his body to lie beside you. His breathing is relaxed, warm and contented, as he nestles that sharp face and aquiline nose behind your ear and into the mess of your hair. He’s breathing you in… the fragrance of fresh-washed hair, the scent of your skin and fresh arousal. And despite that hardness at your lower back, he just pulls the heavy weight of your comforters over your naked bodies. Arms wrap softly but assuredly around you, one hand holding your arm, the other tucked snugly beneath both your still-drying heads. You feel the slowing thump of his pulse against your back as he pulls you even closer, the rush of his breath in your ear tingles your spine and relaxes you all at once.

Lulled to sleep by the warmth of his skin and the lullaby of his body…

Daylight caresses you, and instantly, as you stir, you know he’s already awake from his trance. The sunlight flooding your room, the curtains blown wide to let the dawn in, those are the dead giveaways. Those are the signals that he has already woken up and taken full advantage of his powers as Ascendant, his favorite—basking in the sun. Not that he would admit it.

He sits against the large window, letting his pale skin soak in the morning sun. Shirtless, just a pair of breeches on his legs, your sunwalking vampire, lets the warmth still thaw the centuries of cold and hurt.

Crimson eyes turn towards you, a knowing grin on his face the instant he hears your breathing change. “Ah, the only thing that sparkles more than the soft light of dawn…” he smirks, that same velvet tone of voice that made you first swoon, “the glint of your own scarlet eyes as you blink the lingering pleasure from your sleep.” You watch his muscles flex as he stretches in that shaft of sunlight from the window. Feline and a tad predacious, he slowly crosses towards you in the bed, a slightly sheepish grin on his full lips, even as his eyes clearly revealed his still lingering desires that had raged in the dark. “I’m… sorry if I was a bit more demanding than usual last night, darling, but you did so well…. My good, sweet consort.”

You give him that look that both provokes and placates, pursing your lips with a hint of a baleful glare from the corner of your eye. He sits beside you, and you keep your distance. Just enough.

“I always know when your negotiations either go horribly wrong or… intoxicating well…” you smirk, rubbing out the lingering soreness in your neck. It aches still, those harder to reach spots down the curve of your shoulder blades the worst from being suspended for so long…

And quickly, his hands replace yours. Those fingers, so strong and deft at picking locks and pleasuring you, knead into the aches and pains you just can’t reach. “So, do you wish to guess if negotiations with the dhampirs in Cormyr went to our advantage?” He purrs, hands still massaging your back as they wander lower. “Be warned, if you guess incorrectly, I'll treat you to more of the same rigorous attentions from last night…”

“And if I guess correctly?” You hum, his hands grasped teasingly around her swells of your ass now.

“Then I’ll treat you to more of the same tender care…”

You cock your brow and smirk, heart pounding for either way, it is always a treat with him.

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lunian · 11 hours

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hmmm👁️👁️

mmmm something tells me its very dark and unhealthy but how can i fight against dark Bloodweave🥺

#ooohhh so much horrible patterns which Gale would def fall for in specific cases bc he is as unhinged #love it #bloodweave #baldur's gate #bg3 #galestarion #ascended astarion #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #astarion ancunin #gale origin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 screenshots #mystuff

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daintysclaw · 19 hours

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crimson treat…

A render of Astarion and spawn Tav indulging in their juicy desires..

Full render on my patreon

#bg3 #bg3 art #bg3 fanart #3d render #artists on tumblr #artwork #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #bg3edit #ascended astarion #astarion fanart #vampirism #astarion ancunin #astarion #astarion x durge #astarion x tav #make this viral #patreon artist

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astarionformayor · 3 days

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thinking abt how Astarion says "this wine tastes like vinegar" instead of saying "this wine tastes like piss" so you can't retort by saying "you know what piss tastes like?"

#lowkey that might actually trigger him but it's always a fun thing to say irl #astarion headcanons #astarion headcanon #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion #ascended astarion

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lusciouswhiteflame · 1 day

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Oh gods you look terrible being 'in distress', my love! Let me fix that real quick

#astarion x dark urge #ascended astarion #bg3 astarion

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surprisesausages · 2 days

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Ascended ass astarion

#digital art #bg3 #drawing #my art #fanart #illustration #bg3 astarion #astarion #baldurs gate fanart #baldurs gate 3 #ascended astarion

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skylinovka395 · 3 days

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nenalunes · 1 day

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#bg3 screenshots #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion #bg3 photomode #bg3 photography #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion screenshots #ascended astarion

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thewritetofreespeech · 16 hours

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Astarion x Reader

words: 1.02K

rating: T

pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Spawn!Tav

summary: after seeing their friends for the first time in a long while, Tav has a request for Astarion for them to come live at the palace.

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The party is in full swing. Or…as full of a swing as this lot could get.

Astarion had to admit, for a dried-up old skeleton, Withers could certainly put on a show. He wondered how the old pile of bones managed out here in the middle of nowhere, looking like….that. Perhaps he’d summoned those hirelings to go fetch the party favors for him.

His attention turned from his wine to Tav as they came close. Calm, smiling, happy. He hated it. Not that he has any doubts that they are happy in their life together, and they are wonderfully content in being his consort. He just doesn’t like that other people are making them happy. “Hello, my treasure. Miss me already?”

‘Of course. When we’re apart I miss you terribly.’

Astarion barked out a laugh. Not sure if they were being sarcastic or not, but chooses to believe that they would be desperate without him. “Of course you do. And? How have our dear friends been without us to guide and protect them?”

‘They’re great-everyone seems so happy.’

“Really?” He was taken aback by that. “Are you sure? I was half certain they’d be half-dead and begging us to take them back.”

‘Well….there is one….’

“Really? Well…I’m not surprised.” Astarion’s interest was piqued now. Certainly it was no surprise to him. Who wouldn’t miss all of this? How helpless they all would have been without the faithful stewardship of his love and his clever resourcefulness to see them through. It wasn’t a surprise that one of them would crave that guidance again.

‘I have a request.’

A request? How odd, Astarion thought. Though they were bound to one another, and he was their master, he was true in his words that he wanted Tav to be his consort, not his spawn. The others he would command as his leisure, for their own good or his amusement, but Tav was free to do as they liked. As long as they were with him. It had been a while since they had made a formal request of him. So this must be serious. Though he can guess what it was.

“Name it darling and it is yours. As always, you can ask me for anything.”

‘I want them to come live with us.’

Bang on the money.

He guessed correctly that that was their request. Nothing else would require his permission in a formal way like that. It filled him with glee that they would ask though. Come crawling in to ask for his permission. And, more than that, do it on behalf of another who would soon be crawling in for his permission as well. “Of course you do my love. You always did have a soft spot for the weak and unfortunate. It is one of your more disgustingly cute qualities.” He told them. “So, who is it? Halsin? Shadowheart?”

Astarion had to assume it was Halsin. He’d already propositioned them once during their travels. Why not try it again? Although, he couldn’t see the big lug willingly spending time in the city. Or giving up on those brats he was so fond of. He hoped it was Shadowheart. Though he had chosen Tav, and correctly, there were times when he’d look at the little lost convert when more than just hunger for her blood. A look he knew reciprocated by her to his future consort when she thought no one was looking.

‘It’s Scratch.’

His fantasies on which of their companions were begging him to take them back and what he would do with them came to a screeching halt when they revealed their intended. “The dog!” Were they really asking him to take in that mangy mutt into his grand palace?? Where it would probably….shed and dig up every potted plant in the house.

‘The Owlbear too.’

“Oh good Gods, now you’re just being ridiculous.” Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose. This had to be some horrible waking dream he was having. Since he didn’t sleep anymore.

‘You said I could ask for anything.’

“Ask! Not make these insane requests!” Tav gave him one of those stern looks. One that would have made his old self buckle instantly. But he was an all powerful vampire lord now. Their powers wouldn’t work on him anymore. “Don’t look at me like that. You know it’s insane to have animals running around the palace. Where would we even put that behemoth of an Owlbear in the first place?”

‘I seem to remember that there was a very large room under the palace he could stay in. With a little sprucing up.’

Astarion growled in his throat. “No.” They crossed their arms and stared at him, and once again Astarion told them, “No. And that’s final. I won’t have wild animals running around my palace. Ask me for anything else my love, but this is too far.”

Tav uncrossed their arms and their shoulders fell. A sad look on their face that was not quite a pout because they were too grown up for that. They turn to leave and go back to the party before Astarion told them, “Fine.” They perked up and looked over their shoulder at him. Hopefully. “I will…think on it. But I will need some concessions for even considering putting up with this. You may get what you want. But, I get what I want.”

They beam at him, and don’t even consider what he might ask in return as they dash over and kiss him on the cheek as a thank you.

Astarion sighed. “I’m going to stay here and think on this. But you should go – mingle, chat, laugh. Have fun my love. And if our friends drop any interesting secrets, bring them right back to me. Until then, I’ll be here. But don’t fret, I will be watching. I am always watching.”

And he did watch them go. Return to conversations with Shadowheart and Laz’el projection, giddy and happy again. Although he knew it was his doing this time. So he was less annoyed than before.

He then turned to look at the dog and owlbear playing by the bank. The ground literally trembling under the overgrown cub’s feet. Astarion pinched his nose again. He decided it would need to be something very, very, very good if he was going to allow this to happen.

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carooosa · 2 days

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Bound by You: Love is Power, Love is Weakness

Part 1: Exposure (rewrite)

Word count: 1.5k Rating: Explicit Pairing: Ascended Astarion x AFAB Resist Durge/Reader Warnings: 18+, exhibitionism, ear play, violence against an NPC AO3 link: Exposure

Summary: Astarion can exert his control/power as he maintains composure while fucking you, and while he may not be as strict with his council when doing so, the harshness behind his actions is still there. But when you torture him by making him moan in front of everyone who is beneath him? Not only will it show him weak, but it’ll show his weakness.

It’s another boring day as a consort while you sit on your lover’s bare lap, slowly rolling your hips into him. Ever since the ascension, Astarion has refused to let you out of his sight for too long, always wanting to have some part of him touching you. It upset you, at first, having to sit in on all of the dreadful conferences and dull discussions. But as always, Astarion made sure that it was worth your time.

He’s droning on about some inaccuracies in recent reports he’s received and his fingers dig into your hips as the proprietor of the counting-house stumbles out an excuse. You can’t help but giggle when you picture the proprietor trembling as he tries to talk his way out of this mess. You remember his name being quite the joke as well, something like Sparkleboard or Glimmerbrook.

“Rakath Glitterbeard,” Astarion barks at the dwarf before berating him for his inadequacies. He shoots you a mischievous glance, confirming that he too is bored with this meeting, so much so that his mind had wandered into your own.

Of course the poor sod’s name was something ridiculous. If he was going to have a name as awful as that, he should just change it to Goldcoin or something similar. At least then it’d have relevance to his job.

Astarion pinches your hips in an attempt to stifle any laughter that may come out, and you yelp in surprise. You look at your lover and notice the slightest crinkle in the corner of his eyes. The ramblings from Rakath stop, and Astarion’s head snaps towards him. “Have you run out with excuses already, Glitterbeard? Or have you simply come to your senses and decide to own up to your shortcomings?” Astarion says with a growl.

You turn your head as well, excited to see what’s about to unfold. The dwarf readjusts his collar before clearing his throat, and the idiot decides to speak up against your Lord.

With the arrogance of a little kid, he says, “No, Lord Astarion, I just noticed that you seem to be preoccupied and thought I would wait until you regain focus.”

Astarion scoffs and you feel him grab onto your ass with one hand as he stands up and kicks back the chair he was sitting on. With his other hand, he pushes off all the paperwork that lay strewn about the desk. He sets you on the edge of the table before pushing you down so that your back is against the hardwood. He stares directly at that insufferable banker as he begins to thrust into you – hard.

“What was that about losing focus?” Astarion says with a crazed look in his eyes.

Rakath’s face turns bright red as he tries to stammer out a response, but it’s no use, as Astarion has already made up his mind.

“Silence. Pick up those documents and put them back on the table – in their correct order. After that, you will redo all of this week’s reports, as well as the last 4 month’s as well.” Astarion is interrupted by a noise of disapproval, his frustration reaching its highest point today. “I said silence. Perhaps you’ve forgotten how that tongue of yours works, shall I cut it out and show you?”

Rakath drops to the floor and begins frantically gathering the papers, all the while Astarion continues to slam into you with reckless abandon as he addresses the rest of the meeting attendees.

“Do I need to remind everyone that you’re in the presence of the Vampire Ascendant? I am more powerful than you could possibly comprehend, yet you wager your lowly lives just to make some ridiculous point. I could replace you with the snap of my fingers and no one would even care. I keep you around because I couldn’t be damned to get rid of you – however, give me enough of a reason and I’ll put the dungeon to use.”

You weren’t sure exactly how or when it started, but whenever Astarion would get annoyed or pissed off during a meeting he would yank you closer and begin to fuck you, right there, in front of everyone. Somehow he was able to maintain composure as he catered to your needy whines, asserting his dominance over the room while he dominated you. He always took care of you, and one day, you got the brilliant idea to care for him in return.

You’re once again sat on your lover’s lap with his cock buried deep inside you. His nose is deep in a document, a contract with an architect from Neverwinter, and his shoulders are tensed. You delicately reach your hands behind his shoulders to start massaging the knots. He doesn’t acknowledge you save for a quick twitch in his ears, so you push harder, hoping to alleviate some of the stress the Vampire Lord must feel. Moving up to his neck, you meticulously knead every knot you find, humming a soft melody as each point of tension slowly comes undone. When you finish giving him a massage, one of your hands slightly brushes against his ear, causing a shutter to ripple through Astarion.

You quickly look at his face and notice his lips part, a silent moan leaving them. Interesting, you think to yourself, and you slowly reach out to stroke his ear.

You watch as Astarion gasps, eyes fluttering closed in contentment, the contract falling from his hands. He desperately tries to regain control by focusing on his breath. You caress the helix of his ear and his breathing hitches before a pleased sigh escapes his mouth and he leans into your touch. His hands move to your back to stabilize you as he begins to roll his hips, ever so slightly fucking you.

He looks so beautiful like this, you think to yourself. Astarion’s eyes are hooded when he opens them again, and if your heart was still beating, you’re positive it would’ve skipped a beat.

You can tell from his posture that he’s about to move your hand away, and the mind-link connection you share confirms that. The Vampire Ascendant has an image to upkeep, and he can’t show any vulnerability outside of the bed chambers. He starts to shift in his seat when suddenly, you take his ear lobe in your mouth. He mindlessly bucks his hips forward and grasps the armrests of his chair, splintering the wood. You nibble on the lobe, pressing and flicking your tongue against the soft skin.

He can vaguely see in his peripherals the guests from Neverwinter glance at each other and shift in their seats. One of them clears their throat and Astarion tries again to regain his poise but all he can think about is your lips on his ear. You roll your hips and gingerly reach out to his other ear, pinching and rubbing the tip. A quiet moan starts in the back of Astarion’s throat as you coo at him, telling him that he’s such a good lord, so strong, incredibly smart, your love. All the meeting attendants can do is watch as the Vampire Ascendant comes undone beneath your touch.

Astarion is panting as you whisper sweet nothings in between giving attention to his ears. You bite down on the flesh in your mouth – harsh enough to draw blood – and moan from the sweet ichor that flows into your body. The nobility that would usually cower at the mention of the vampire lord’s name now sit watching, unable to do anything in fear of retaliation. One of the younger nobles, the son of the architect, begins to slowly stroke his fingers against his strained trousers.

Within seconds, Astarion barks an order.

“Stop.”

You pause, concerned that you may have gone too far. Before you can ask if you did something wrong, you’re sat alone on the chair while Astarion is on his feet and holding the young man by his throat. He raises the boy above his head and dangles him above the table, his claws piercing into his flesh. The architect starts to get out of his seat but a nearby guest stops him.

“You fucking degenerate. How dare you please yourself while looking at my consort,” Astarion bellows.

The boy is unable to respond as blood fills his throat, causing him to suffocate. Astarion slowly closes his grip around his neck, watching as the architect’s son struggles to pull his nails out. The boy stops thrashing, the life drained from his eyes as his body goes limp.

Astarion continues to hold the corpse in the air as he addresses his room. “Leave. Now. And if so much as a word of today’s events is whispered outside of this room,” he pauses, throwing the body onto the table where the group congregates, “I will personally hunt each and every one of you.”

A few days later, a rumor silently spreads across Baldur’s Gate. Astarion, the unforgiving and merciless Vampire Ascendant, has a weakness. While many laugh and make jokes about how the powerful tyrant gets turned on with the touch of his ears, a resistance group takes note of his true weakness, and their key to his demise: you.

Part 2 Here

#astarion smut #astarion fic #astarion x reader #ascended astarion #bg3 durge #fics #ascended astarion bg3 #astarion x you #astarion x f!durge #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female durge #astarion x female reader #my writing

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bellasmumblingsandmusings · 2 days

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Sima and Astarion, when things were good

Artwork created for my new series What Could Have Been

Artwork by the incomparable: https://dafnawinchester.art/

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alexa-nowak · 15 hours

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Fandom culture has changed so much, I honestly just don't get it anymore

It used to be absolutely normal to like morally questionable or straight up irredeemable characters, there was no "if you like a bad guy, you are agreeing with the bad guy" in my 2013

Now nearly in every fandom villain lovers are getting bullied, fandoms are busy protecting pixel's feelings, while severely hurting real people's mental health with this neverending flood of toxicity

And it genuinely upsets me, because villains and the whole concept of liking "against the good guys" characters in media/ literature/ art/ etc was always a safe space for outcasts and people who felt rejected by society, for being queer, for just being different and unable to fit in for any reason

And seeing that even inside online fandom culture villain lovers are getting nothing but this bs is heartbreaking

And all this discussion about "healthy relationship with imaginary bf" is the whole different bucket of crap that I would waffle about at some point

How these people are doing in literature classes, I mean, every other classical book has some kind of toxic love story, do they need a trigger warning for every book or something

#yes it's about ascended Astarion #yet again #ascended astarion #villain #villian lover #fandom discourse #anyone knows what df has happened to society #and media literacy i guess #i am so glad there is no fixing path for Minthara

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captainlilyuniverseworld · 2 days

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The Willingly Unwilling

A/N: This was meant to be a short thing about Astarion using the invisiblity spell for innapropiate means, and delved into an Ascended Astarion, Consort Gale situation

The Willingly Unwilling

“I’m bored.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Aren’t you going to do something about it?”

“I am slightly busy if you hadn’t noticed,” Gale motioned to the books strewn about the table. The parchment filled with his scrawl. The various ingredients.

Astarion came up behind him and put his hands on his shoulder, slowly he ran them down the length of Gale’s chest, nails scraping the thin material of his shirt.

“I’m all for having a hobby pet, it’s good to keep yourself occupied but as I said. I. Am. Bored,” he leaned over Gale now, chest pressed against the wizard's back.

Gale shivered and spread his legs almost automatically as the vampire’s fingers began to knead the flesh of his thighs through his linen pants.

“I’m nearly finished,” Gale licked his lips. “You promised-”

“Agreed.”

“Promised,” Gale repeated. “That I could have time out of the day to do what I wanted, and you would let me.”

Astarion huffed. “You were playing dirty when I agreed to that.”

“You didn’t agree, you promised,” Gale reached for his quill. “And I’m almost done. We can do whatever you want after I finish.”

“Perhaps it’s good I didn’t make any more spawn,” Astarion sat back but scraped Gale’s scalp with his nails. “Your stubbornness might rub off on them.”

Gale leaned his head back at the touch and felt the cold press of lips, sharp fangs along the column of his throat. They were dragged teasingly against the skin before Astarion severed all contact.

“Fine. I’ll find some other way to entertain myself,” Astarion left the room and Gale rubbed the back of his neck.

He waved his hand and the door shut behind him. A quick flick of his wrist and a muttered spell and the doors lockeded. Astarion’s displeasure is palpable.

Gale set the quill down and runs a hand through his hair. He’d lost track of how much time had passed, how long they’d been together in this, gods whatever it was. Everything leading to now felt as if it’d happened simultaneously merely weeks ago as opposed to months, when he first agreed to visit Astarion, to the newly named Ancunin Palace. Astarion had taken a gleeful delight yanking the plaque that adorned the large columns outside the iron gates and breaking it over his knee.

When Gale had first arrived the palace was nearly stripped bare from the inside.

“I can’t very well cement my place if everything reeks of old,” Astarion had told him. “So, I gathered everything that belonged to Cazador, minus the jewels and the gold, took it all outside and burned it.”

Astarion hummed. “I even dusted off a few bottles of wine and enjoyed the little bonfire with a drink or two.”

“Out with the old, in with the new as they say, no?”

“Exactly!” Astarion whirled around and grinned at him. “When I said I was going to be better than Cazador, I meant it in every possible way. Just because we are the undead does not mean we must live and dress the part. He had no real sense of taste the more I thought about it.”

“Astarion, why am I here?” Gale tried not to watch as a servant carried an armful of bloody bedding.

“Because I asked you to come,” Astarion answered.

“Yes, I understand, but your letter said that you needed something from me. Help or…or-”

“Help?” Astarion cocked his head to the side. “Nowhere in my letter did I state I needed help.”

“Assistance then,” Gale replied.

“Mmm no, no assistance, I’ve plenty of thralls roaming the halls,” Astarion mused. “I don’t need help and I don’t need assistance.”

“Then why am I here?” Gale tried again.

“Because I want you here,” Astarion had said. “Because I want your company. Because I want to talk to you, watch you. See you. We are friends, aren’t we Gale?”

And Gale, like the fool he was, took his words at face value. He tried to keep his visit short, but then Astarion would look at him with those eyes. He’d pour Gale another glass of wine, or brandy, or tea.

He’d find another book in the palace’s vast library.

“When I saw it, I wondered how long it’d take you to read every single volume,” Astarion mused.

The second time he tried to leave, citing his work and his research and wanting to write down his account of their journey Astarion had given him the office with the elevator.

“I have no use for it,” Astarion shrugged, holding out the key. “Consider it yours to do with as you see fit. No one but you and I shall have the keys.”

“Are you quite sure?” Gale asked.

“Of course,” Astarion smiled. “I want you to enjoy yourself while you are here….You are enjoying yourself aren’t you?”

“I am,” Gale answered.

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