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Chapter Text

The soft huff of torches being lit surround you as your sore, tired feet carry you down the well trodden path to the tavern. Scents of ale and brandy waft through the door before they’re even opened. Your hand rests on the handle, but hesitation prevents you from entering. This routine has begun to bother you considerably lately; waking up, having a hard day in court, drinking until you forget how many people you’ve made cry, eat, sleep, repeat. At this point you are surviving, but not coping.

‘To the hells with it.’ You think to yourself ‘What’s one more day...’. Before you can push through the tavern entrance, a cold, pale hand gently lays on your wrist.

“Good evening, Darling. That beautiful little soul of yours seems awfully troubled tonight. How about you have a drink on me?” Your gaze meets that of a handsome High Elf who offers, what you initially perceive to be, a warm, sincere smile. However, the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s the same type of fake sincerity that presents itself all too often in testimonies that you judge on a daily basis.

A rejection sits on your tongue like a 20 pound weight, though something deep inside of you yearns for something different; a break from your routine. Whether this is just a conversation or a fling, it matters not at the moment. “How kind of you to offer. It certainly was a long day and I would appreciate some good company.”

“Marvellous. Come, I’ll show you to the best seats in the tavern.” He takes your hand in his and leads you inside. The barkeep addresses you both and let’s you know he’ll tend to you shortly. At the far back of the tavern there are booths with frosted panels separating them from the more open tables. 1 out of 7 of the rear booths are free.

After taking your seat, you take a closer look at the elf in the candle light. Something about him seems eerily familiar to you, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. The barkeep slides over to your table to take the order. The handsome stranger orders two glasses of a very specific vintage wine.

“Romanee-Conti! What fine taste you have... That’s actually one of my favourites...” You trail off, noticing that his body slightly tenses. An odd reaction that you weren’t expecting.

“What a coincidence, then as chance has it, you’re gorgeous and you have great taste in wine too.” He plays off the discomfort so well that you don’t think twice. “So, you mentioned you were having a rough day. I’m all pointy ears, if you’d like to get it off your chest.” His crimson eyes canvas you as he places his chin in his hand. Without a doubt, you have his undivided attention. Perhaps you can actually get a decent conversation out of him.

You decide to go all in. If you scare him off with your dullness, it’ll just be the average, lonely night that you were already prepared to have. “Well, I can’t go too deep into specifics, due to to confidentiality. To keep it simple, I’m a magistrate and prosecutor here... took care of civil court cases for 195 years and recently moved to supreme court cases. I love the work that I do, the adrenaline rush when you cross examine someone after they give testimony, and hammering out the best course of action. As of late, I seem to be too... emotionally invested in some of the hearings. Though I still pursue what I consider to be a just verdict, I can’t seem to dissociate myself from thinking I’ve ruined or condemned a life.” You take a staggered breath, trying to prevent yourself from getting worked up. “Sorry, this must be boring to you.”

The elf waves his hand dismissively and maintains presence in the conversation. “Not at all. It’s refreshing to know that there are still people pursuing the right path, no matter how difficult it is. I’d like to hear what else you have to say on the topic. I actually take great interest in the work of magistrates.”
The barkeep brings the wine over and advises he’ll check back later for a top up. Before parting, he winks and gives the elf a pat on the back. “Got yourself another beautiful date tonight, lad” You notice that the elf winces in pain when the hand makes contact. It seems to snap him out of a trance.

“Are you okay?” You take a few seconds to assess him again. He nods, seeming on edge, but very interested in your line of work. You both sip on wine before you continue. “Well, when I first started the civil line of business, there was someone I genuinely looked up to. He and his family had a natural knack for justice- in all honestly I developed a lot of my own methods through analyzing their judgments... What I would give to have the opportunity to talk to him again... Seek his guidance once more... properly thank him for everything he did for me.” A sigh escapes from you.

Your company sits in silence for a moment, calculating what to say next “Depending on their race or life expectancy, maybe I can help you find him” He tosses a quick glance to the other 6 tables next to you to make sure no one is listening in.

“As far as I know, they did leave the city... Though a few rumours went around that they are deceased. Either is plausible... Us elves live pretty long. Say, you mentioned that you have a strong interest in this line of work. Given their status and success you may have heard of them. Ever encounter the name A-” Your date places a finger on your lips and hushes you with a sense of urgency.

The occupants of the other tables begin to look your way. Quickly, he hauls you into an intimate kiss in attempt to throw them off. “You are absolutely amazing, Darling. How about we get out of here and find ourselves a little piece of nowhere for some fun?” The buttery smooth words coming from his mouth try to hide the panic in his eyes. He knows you’re smart enough to take the hint.

Something is incredibly wrong. Your gut instinct is to play along and find out what the source of the panic is. “I was just wondering when you’d invite me home. I can’t wait~ Let’s go” You give him a serious, acknowledging smile. His arm wraps around your waist as he leaves payment on the table for the wine and walks you out of the tavern. You feel sharp, piercing eyes on your back as you leave.

Once the door closes behind you, he ushers you to a dark ally. “{Insert your name}, you need to listen to me very carefully. You have 2 hours. Gather what you need and leave Baldur’s Gate right away.”

“I didn’t tell you my... shit... is that actually you, Astarion...? What in the hells happened to you? You went MIA almost 200 years ago. What’s going on? Who were those people in the tavern?” So many questions and so few answers run through your mind.

“Look, I know I owe you answers, but we don’t have time. My siblings saw your face so you need to get away from here before they report back to my master to tell him I didn’t lure you.” Astarion falls to the ground in pain. Crimson mist swirls around him as he claws through the back of his shirt. In the darkness you see a red glowing infernal pact on his back “I can’t disobey him much longer, get away from here. PLEASE.” He pleads desperately before collapsing.

Your mind goes blank. Surely you need to heed his warning, but you also can’t leave him here like this. Knowing that he went against some sort of sire bond to save your hide means he’s in for some trouble as well. You squat in order to pull him over your shoulders. Keeping to the shadows, you head back to your home near the gate.

In essence of time, you grab a satchel with coin in it and a shirt to cover Astarion so others wouldn’t see the infernal pact. While putting the shirt on him, you notice a prominent bite mark on his neck.
“Gods... what have they done to you...” You whisper to yourself. One of your fingers curl up his top lip to reveal two fangs. A vampire... What kind of hell has this man been through in the last 200 years?
You grab a short sword and hand cross bow that you used whenever you went hunting.

There’s a stable just outside of your house that should be able to help with your getaway. You stealthily lead a horse outside of its captivity. The sounds of hooves on brick road riddles you with anxiety. It’s been a long time since you practised magic, but you need it now. Calling back your memories, you cast Pass Without A Trace on the horse. The spell seemed to take without issue. You situate Astarion on the back of the horse and head outside of the gate.

‘With the speed of this gallop, we should be able to get out of Rivington in 5 minutes.’ You think to yourself while looking at the sky. ‘We can probably get 4-5 hours of travel in before making a camp for the morning. Being able to only travel by night may slow us down a little...”

Movements of the horse stir Astarion. He wakes and exhales sharply. “What in the bloody hells are you doing?! I could turn on you at any moment. I...”

“The sire bond may be strong. But you are stronger. The fact that I’m on my way outside of Baldur’s Gate as we speak is proof of your strength.” You extend a hand towards him and help him from a prone position so he can sit behind you properly. “Now, before you argue with me further... I know you’re a vampire spawn. Bite me and take some of my blood. Whatever your master carved into your back is intense... you blacked out from the pain.”

He regards you incredulously, fixating on your neck, but holds back. “You’re almost taking all of this too well. I can’t drink the blood of thinking creatures...”

“If that’s what your sire told you, fuck him. We’ll find a way for you to get your independence back, but first, you need your energy for our escape. I can’t imagine the pure shit that you’ve been through the last couple millennia... We’re in this together now.” Astarion finds re-assurance in your declaration.

Just as he’s about to bite you, 6 figures lunge from the trees at the horse, causing the horse to spook and buck the two of you off. It screeches and takes off without a moment of hesitation.

One of the handsome males saunters towards you with powerful confidence. He kicks your sword to the side and grabs you by the throat, leaving just enough room for you to breathe shakily. “My, my. Who do we have here. You must be quite the catch to make Astarion disobey Cazador like that.” A cocky smirk plasters his face. “Dearest brother, I thought you learned a lesson when you went through this with Sebastian. Master WON’T be pleased.”

“Leon, stay away from her!” Astarion yells, staggering to his feet. He goes to move towards you, but 5 of the other siblings flank him.

You spit in Leon’s face. His nails dig into you with disgust, making blood pour down your neck “Subdue him please, Petras. I’m going to take this ‘delightful’ specimen back to the Szarr Palace.”
Leon licks his lips as the scent of your blood wraps around his nose. “I hope you don’t mind shackles, dear. We’re going to relish in making you scream a beautiful composition while we bleed you out for our Master.”

A hum vibrates in the air, drowning out your panicked whimpers. Everyone looks up to discover a massive Nautiloid Ship making it’s way across the sky.

“Shit, we need to go- now. “Petras mumbles. The 5 siblings try to tackle Astarion, but he’s dexterous enough to evade. Once out of their reach, he bolts for you and Leon.

“Leave him, the girl can take his place” Leon commands before teleporting away from the field. The 5 follow shortly after.

Astarion falls to his knees in disbelief as a group of Ilithid surround him. A force makes purchase with the back of his head. Everything fades to black.

Chapter Text

The world springs alive inside of your mind as you come to your senses. Metal as cold as snow presses firmly against your ankles, neck, and wrists. After blinking a few times, you realize you’re naked inside of a cage, being watched by a dominant presence and Astarion’s siblings. Your body jolts as your cower into the corner of the cage. It appears that you’re in some kind of torture or study room.

“Ah, the peasant who drove off my favourite spawn finally wakes.” A bitter voice echoes through the room. The owner of said voice leans forward on a mahogany throne, analyzing your every move like a starving hawk. “You’ll certainly be taking accountability for what you’ve taken from me.”

Through the fear and panic, you try to latch on to spite and resentment. “You must be Cazador, the dick I heard about from your precious, undead children.” You mutter with as much disdain as you can muster.

“You WILL watch your tongue around me, wretch. That tongue can easily be severed if I will it so.” Cazador’s threat resonates through your bones. He looks at you thoughtfully. “I can see why the boy liked you so much... But just like him, I can break you too.” With a flick of his wrist, the chains draw tight on your limbs.

You grit your teeth as the shackles tighten around your neck. “You can’t break what’s already broken.”

“Silly, disobedient girl.” He clicks his tongue and moves towards the cage. “Anything that’s broken can be conditioned and repurposed.” Cazador leans towards your ear and lets out a sinister whisper. “I’m going to own your body and kill your mind.”

Every fibre of your body tenses as he opens the door to your cage. With the snap of his fingers, Leon roughly hauls you out. You try to struggle against him, but in vain- the hold he has on you is too strong. Your chains get connected to an intimidating circular frame.

“First I’ll let Leon have his way with you.” Cazador states without emotion, waving permission for him to proceed.

Leon takes a whip from a nearby display and delicately caresses your body with it before lashing at your chest. The yelp that parts from your lips causes them to smile mischievously.
“Is that all you’ve got?” You gasp through the burn from the impact. A shudder erupts over your body as you prepare yourself for more. Each crack becomes increasingly harder until the front of your body is in a bloody mess. Eventually you become so numb from the pain that you can’t stand to scream anymore. Dizziness washes over you from the agony.

“Your defiant screams are just as sweet as Astarion’s, if not sweeter” Cazador beams delightedly as he closes the gap between you. His tongue travels along your breast to clean up some of the blood. “I am not letting one ounce of this go to waste.” Leon kneels at his side, waiting for his next command.

“Go prepare the feral cell, we’ll join you when we’re done here.” The 6 siblings disappear as soon as the command is given. “We have a long night ahead of us, {Insert your name}. Over the next week, I'll break you.... over and over again. Then, when you wretched little cattle learn to stop defying me, I'll finally get what I want.”

You pant heavily and draw tight on the shackles. “Go. To. Hell.” Instead of angering him, Cazador chuckles.

“You’re in the Szarr Palace, the next best thing.” He unsheathes a crimson dagger that glints with light from the torches and circles behind you. The air around him is enough to suffocate you. “This is going to hurt, do try to stay with me.” The blade digs into your back as he begins to carve infernal words into your flesh. Cries of suffering begin to erupt from you once more.

‘This is it for me...he’s giving me Astarion’s pact” You think to yourself in between screams. The mental countdown is lost in your feeble consciousness flowing in and out like the tide. After what feels like an eternity, he finishes the centre of the piece and your body becomes dead weight.

“Your body is MINE” He takes your chin in his hand and bites your lip. The metallic taste coats your tongue as he forcefully kisses you. Being confined by these chains and numbness make it difficult for you to fight back. His mouth makes its way to your neck, trailing his fangs along your jugular.

As the hands of fate reach the midnight hour, a loud sounding of a clock emanates through the room. “And now... I will kill your mind...” Cazador’s fangs pierce you hungrily, sending intense shivers down your spine.

A cold chill courses through your veins, is this what death feels like? He completely drains you until you can’t feel anything. Just as you’re about to lose responsiveness, Cazador lightly cuts his wrist and feeds you a few drops of his blood. You drift away into the darkness.

Chapter Text

Faint sounds of melodic water drops hit off of stone. Your body jolts, lungs inhaling sharply as you take your first breath in what feels like decades. Severe pangs of hunger tear through your stomach while an agonizing sting covers your entire back. You claw at the rags in attempts to deface the pact etched in your skin. No matter what you do, your nails just can’t dig deep enough.
Panic sets in... You realize you’re in an empty cell, trapped behind iron bars.
‘Prepare the feral cell.’ The recollection of Cazador’s command makes you want to vomit, only there’s nothing in your body to heave up.

Your shaky hands grasp the bars in desperation. A hoarse and cracked yell forces its way out of you “Is anyone there?” But the echo falls on deaf ears. Alone. The lurching in your stomach causes you to keel over.

In the distance, a mechanical noise can be heard- almost like an elevator. You pin yourself against the cold wall in fetal position, trying to calm your racing heart. Two sets of slow, steady steps make their way towards you in cadence. The sound of their pulse is deafening, causing you to salivate profusely.

Black silhouettes stop in front of your cell. One of them lights a torch in order to check on ‘the feral’ cell. Once illuminated, animalistic scratch marks make themselves visible on the fortifications in the flickering embers. You recognize the first visitor to be Petras, the other is the gnome brother. Unprovoked fantasies of ripping their throat out and bathing in her blood makes your mouth run dry. You push back, not quite trusting yourself to avoid going through with it.

The gnome speaks up first. “We’ve been ordered to bring you one rat a day; enough to keep you alive, but not enough to sate the hunger. You will receive periodic visits from the master for his... ‘blessings’.”

Petras interjects with a low voice. “To clarify what Yousen means- if you’re well behaved, the visit will be... far less painful.” He moves towards the bars to pass you a rat. You grab his wrist longingly as the waging war between will and desire consumes your soul. Just one bite into his delicious basilic vein? A shock runs down your spine, making you freeze solid. He quickly hauls away.

“One of the first rules of the spawn is to not drink blood from thinking creatures.” Yousen states flatly. “That shock you just felt? It intensifies each time you try to defy a rule or order.” A brief sense of guilt flows through you, remembering that you almost convinced Astarion to drink your blood. It would have caused him so much pain.

The rat squeals in your hands, trying to break free. The knot in your stomach tightens beyond measure. You’re so hungry that you no longer care where your meal comes from. Before you can even finish contemplating, your fangs penetrate the rodent savagely. Your ‘brothers’ stand in silence as you make a mess of your first meal. Their regard is not that of disgust, but of understanding. Once you’ve drained the rat dry, Petras hands you a wet towel to clean up. The edge is taken of your hunger, but you’re left wanting more.

“We must head back, but do heed our warning on your obedience, sister. Master will be... especially testy on his first visit” Petras explains. They both grimace- certainly speaking from experience. “For what it’s worth, I’m s-” He begins a heartfelt apology, but a spasm ripples down his back. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” His face contorts as he and Yousen turn on their heels to leave.

“Thank you...” You whisper almost inaudibly. Petas doesn’t look your way, but gestures a hand to signal he heard you. Shortly thereafter, you hear the elevator ascend.

Alone- left to your own devices again. You slowly begin to feel a little claustrophobic in the cell. Chest tightening, your eyes force themselves shut in hopes sleep will find you. Being asleep would be the easiest distraction from hunger, panic, and pain. After a while, you’re lucky enough to doze off.
However, the peace doesn’t last.

You whimper as you’re brutally hauled to your feet by someone pulling your hair. “My little pet is turning into an exquisite portrait of perfection.” Cazador’s face draws close to yours, licking his lips. “The blood of your defiance will pave the path to obedience. My ways are not void of reason, girl. Soon enough, I will dawn the devil’s power and you will be greatly rewarded.”

“An infernal pact between you and a devil is permanently displayed on me, and I should believe that I’m getting a prize? How many of the others believe this bull shit?” A fire ignites across you, he didn’t like your query.

“After yesterday, you still have the nerve to speak to me in that manner?! You’ll do well to learn quicker, spawn. Do NOT question my authority. Did I not tell you that you can be broken... that your body is mine?” He circles around you, analyzing critically, before slamming you against the wall chest first. The wind is knocked out of you- your yelp pleases him as his hands pin you in place. There’s more than aggravation in his tone this time “Your defiance is truly intoxicating- it makes your blood run rich and smooth. Shall I drink you dry again? Intensify that vicious ravenousness?”

Every molecule in your body wishes to lash out, but you know you need to keep a level head in order to survive- or at the very least, avoid punishment.
“My apologies, Master Szarr. You are the shadow where once there was light. I bend my will in honour of your plight. Bound by sire bond, confined to eternal night. Against my creator, I shall not fight.” You look him dead in the eye, knowing how to deceive without revealing intentions.

“Was that so hard? Obey and you won’t go to sleep hungry.” He smirks, arms embracing you from behind as his lips trace your neck. You subdue the chill coursing through your blood. ‘Just endure a little longer’ you try to encourage yourself.

He inhales your scent and leans into you, waiting. Your head tilts to allow him better access. The fangs that pierce you are considerably more gentle than the night before, almost... a little desperate. You squirm just enough in his grasp to make your blood turn to lava from the disobedience.
The soft caress of his cold hands on your figure intensifies, his bite deepening, causing an unintended gasp to escape you. A firm grip twists you to face him. His tongue removes the remaining droplets of blood before taking your mouth in his vehemently. The sound of his heartbeat quickens as he grips your thigh. He pulsates against you, about to lose control.

‘This is it, my chance to test his control... and mine.’ You think to yourself. Earlier he may have tilted his cards, mentioning that your defiant blood was intoxicating. Was this why Astarion was his favourite spawn and why you were chosen to take his place? If your gut feeling is true, you may be able to manipulate him back.... Break him... a taste of his own medicine.

Your hand tangles into his hair as your prepare to put yourself through more mental and physical anguish. “Please ‘Cazador’, allow me to feed you until you are completely satisfied.” The audacity of using his first name in place of master makes your anatomy engulf in flame once more. After a moment of hesitation, he allows you to move him back to your neck. Like a switch, the second he digs in, he loses control. The burn no longer sears your blood, but the thoughts of defiance remain to keep him drugged.

Clothes are torn from both of your bodies in a bloody rage. Still pinned to the wall of the cave, he hoists you so that your legs are wrapped around his waist. His fangs remain buried inside of you, but his movements are starting to lack coordination. For the sake of getting out of here alive and beating him at his own tactics, you will consent to let him have his way- tonight only. Leave him wanting more like he does with you and meagre meals.
He penetrates you with dark desire, groaning into your clavicle. You bite your lip to make it bleed, provoking him to kiss you and drink at the same time. His thrusts are erratic and animalistic in between you moaning his name to rile him up. You’ve lost so much blood that you’re dizziness is taking over.

He’s wrapped around your finger right now, but you need to give him the illusion that you’re wrapped around his. “My mind and body are yours, Master Szarr. Do as you wish.” You pant in his ear as he reaches his climax, filling you with his impulses.

“That’s enough.” He huffs, staggering back. Dazed, drunk, confused, and lacking composure, he retreats outside of the cell to collect a rat that he brought. “You’ve earned a reward tonight, wretch.” He grimaces, attempting to understand what just happened. The bastard is trying to condition you with ‘high value’ rewards. A grumble erupts from you- After being drained dry, there’s no declining this incentive tonight. A triumphant smile sits on his face while he watches you devour it, but deep inside, you know that you’re the one who actually won tonight. You’ve learned how to manipulate his control- and right now, that means everything.

He takes his leave, leaning on the cavern for support- utterly intoxicated...
All you can think about is the touch of his caress, his desire, and the reward. It’s revolting. Disgust riddles your mind as you turn in to go back to sleep. It doesn’t go unnoticed that pain does not return to your body for the rest of the night, despite thinking about how much you despise Cazador Szarr.

Chapter Text

28 long days have passed... Or was it 29... Concept of time evades you now.
Your siblings, Petras, Yousen, Leon, Dalyria, Aureila, and Violet, took turns daily delivering your single rat meals. The depth of your being hurts knowing they likely went through this too.
You’ve woken several times now only to discover you had been clawing at the floors in your slumber due to intense starvation. Cazador has only returned thrice since the night he lost control- each time he visited, he drank so much that he could barely return to the upper level. Some twisted, demented part of you craves him to return again so you can play your part and be rewarded with extra food. Tears burn your eyes- understanding this is exactly what he wanted from the very beginning. However, the distress is tempered with the satisfaction of knowing that you succeeded in getting through his barrier.

The, now-amicable, noise of the elevator hums as someone descends below ground. You perk up because you were already fed earlier- who could it be?
Your glands start salivating uncontrollably. Gods, already conditioned to associate visits with food. How pathetic... Dal turns the corner and shyly walks up to your cell, empty handed. A notable disappointment sinks in your chest, another day will end with an empty cavity.

“It’s time, sister. Master says you’ve learned restraint and obedience, you’re allowed out.” She hesitates a moment. You jump to your feet with the most energy you’ve had in weeks and greet her at the bars. After a pause, she delicately adds “Tonight, you will be tested with luring a soul back here. If successful, you will not have to go back to the feral cell and you will be properly fed moving forward.” Your whole body freezes head to toe. To lure someone back here would contradict every fibre of your existence and morality. On the other hand, refusing would undo any progress you made towards Cazador’s trust and also mean continuing to live in a limbo of starvation. Your vision blurs. “Don’t panic, Leon and I be there to help you.”

Your voice is hoarse and cracked. “Dal, there is no helping. If you take a step closer to me, you’ll get something you don’t deserve.”

“You can’t hurt me. The bond won’t allow it.” She continues to unlock your cage. “Master is adamant that you are to take Astarion’s place tonight in the hunt, and it’s my duty to guide you. He had a few humanoids left to collect for his sired obligations.”

“I will NOT-!” You prepare to decline luring people back, however your whole body contorts in pain. It’s as if your whole insides were put through a blender. Dal moves to your side in a quiet stride.

“Do not defy our master’s orders. You know this... It will only get worse for you if you do...” Dal gives you an apologetic glance. “Endure it for now, Lord Szarr has magnificent plans for us. He will reward us dearly for our obedience.”

“You honestly think he will reward you all for being his puppets? I know his kind, Dal. I saw it every day in court. Mental manipulation, acceptance, torture, conditioning, the whole lot. It’s clear Astarion saw it too, why else would he try to defy? These etchings on our backs are devil pacts. I can’t read them, but I know nothing good will come of this.” You grimace through your train of thought before letting go of the defiance. Now you can understand what Astarion went through when he let you run free from the tavern. “Fine. I’ll go on patrol, but...”

The cogs turn in Dal’s mind, however, she dares not speak what she thinks. “Listen to me very carefully, sister. I can only say this once.” She whispers with urgency. “Petras and I saw Astarion at Elfsong Tavern with a group, he’s here looking for you and somehow is able to escape Master’s control. We couldn’t tell him anything, but this may be your opportunity.” She shrieks as a ripple tears through her spine. “I have to... fulfill my duty. Please... let me prepare you for the hunt.”

You both cling to each other for support in standing. “I appreciate that Dal. I will do what I can to make sure you don’t get in trouble.” She nods through mild fear. Dal put herself at risk to divulge that information. If he is back in Baldur’s Gate and no longer under Cazador’s control, you might be able to make this work. Suddenly, you get an idea. “Before we head out on the hunt, I need your help with something. I promise it will not hurt you.”

Weariness cascades her features. “Okay... As long as I won’t get punished... I will help you.” Your re-assuring smile relaxes her muscles.

Leaving the cell felt like a distant dream that would never come to fruition. This area is an entire cavern below the Szarr palace; one set of stairs lead deeper while another set goes towards the elevator.
“What’s down there?” You ask as the two of you make your way towards the elevator.

“Actually, I have no idea. I’ve been here nearly 200 years, but we’re not allowed down there. Between you and I... I think there’s something gruesome lying in those shadows. On occasion we’ve heard screams and crying.” Dal shivers at the thought. When you return, you think it might be worth while to investigate... Could it have something to do with this pact? Do the people that get lured here reside in the depths?

The elevator leads you up to a set of curtains inside of a study- it appears that this is a hidden access way. Immaculate shinning floors lined with gold-embroidered carpets extend before you. The 15 foot walls make you feel like a tiny, insignificant spec. Dal guides you to her chambers where scents of bergamot and rosemary meander around your nose. Their sleeping accommodations were much more comfortable; a king sized bed decorated with purple silks, accompanied by a large dark oak bookshelf with several books lining it and a cozy brick fireplace.

“I’ll assist you in getting ready. What else would you like my help with?” She asks, retrieving a gorgeous red gown from the closet. Precious, genuine onyx gems decorate the top while the bottom is composed of a red silk base with a black hand-crafted frill overlay to compliment the onyx.

You haul the dress up, allowing Dal to tie the corset backing. “This might sound odd, but, if you don’t mind, I’d like to leave a decanter full of my blood behind for Master Szarr.” Without realizing it, you’re holding your breath, hoping that she won’t be too suspicious.

Once your dress is fitted, she sticks a metal pole in the fireplace and uses it to begin curling your hair. “I should be able to grab a decanter from the ball room” She regards you curiously, wanting more information. “It does sound odd, taking into consideration your thoughts on this whole ordeal.”

“Please trust me. It will not put anyone in danger- it will actually put him in a...much better mood... while we’re out hunting. Having a satiated appetite and all. Consider it thanks for helping me while I was in the feral cell.” After taking a long consideration, she agrees to go through with it. If your calculations are correct, an 8 oz decanter full of your blood will be enough to intoxicate him and suppress his control for 4 hours.

Soon enough, your hair is finished and she moves on to apply light makeup. “In case you didn’t know, we can’t see our reflection in the mirror. I’ll just come out and say this, you look drop dead gorgeous. Pardon the pun.” The two of you chuckle. Having the siblings around make your predicament a little more bearable. After Dal finishes your contours and setting powder, she pops out to grab a decanter.

You take an interest in some of the literature on her shelf. Several different books on languages, art, history, case law, etc. Your attention particularly rests on a book of infernal language. Without hesitation, you flip the delicate, ancient scripture open to see if you can decipher any of the symbols you committed to memory from Astarion’s torso after lugging him into your home. A few words stand out that concern you. More specifically: “Souls”, “Spawn”, “Sacrifice”, “Mephistopheles”, “Ascension”, “Sunlight”, and “Power”. It dawns on you. Everyone that gets lured back will be used in a sacrificial ritual dedicated to Mephistopheles. You’re not 100% certain what ascension fully entails, but you gather that if Cazador ascends, he will be powerful and able to walk in sunlight. This isn’t good- at all.

As Dal returns with the decanter, you snap the book shut and return it to the shelf. She doesn’t seem to take notice. “Here’s the 8 oz one you requested. Master is in his study and will be expecting you.”

“You’re the best. Mind if I borrow your dagger for a second?” You ask while you place the decanter under your wrist. She hands it over to you quietly. Before making the incision, you ensure that every part of your mind is focused on your hate for Cazador. You welcome the excruciating, sharp pain that flows through you- after all, the more intense, the stronger the intoxication. The cut and drainage isn’t as bad as you expected, perhaps because every other pain you’ve been inflicted with over the last 4 weeks were objectively worse. Dal begins to struggle with the scent of your blood, but thankfully it doesn’t take long to fill the decanter.

“Sorry Dal, it wasn’t kind of me to do that in front of you... Rather inconsiderate on my part.” You apologize while closing the lid. She moves towards you innocently and holds her hand out, gesturing for your wrist. There doesn’t appear to be any ill intent in her manner, so you reach out to her. A green, warm glow washes over you as she heals your incision. “You’re too nice, Dal... I didn’t realize you were a healer.”

All of a sudden, Leon barges into the room. His sharp black suit, white ruffles, and red tie compliments your dress significantly. “Times up, we need to-” He eyes you up and down, extremely taken a-back by your beautiful transformation and the fact that the room smells of your blood “-go.”

“Quite the handsome devil tonight, Leon. You’ll have no troubles luring someone home with that sharp attire.” Your voice is sweet, but has a loathing undertone. “Dal was just helping me put together a gift for the master before we leave. I’ll drop it off and then we can get on the road.”

His quizzical look turns into a shrug. While the two lead you up a flight of steps, Leon shoots you a guilty glance here and there as if he has something to say. A part of you still quivers from the punishment he put you through on your first night here, but you know Cazador would have punished him severely if he didn’t. “I forgive you, Leon.” Your voice is soft and barely audible. Shock clouds his face- you’re familiar with this defensive response. He doesn’t think he deserves it, but remains silent to keep the hard-ass facade he built for his master in order to survive.

You come across a large door that appears to have an arcane lock. “The Szarr Family Ring allows us to enter into the ball room and go to Master’s study.” Leon explains, inserting his ring into the slot in the door. The barrier dissipates as he pushes the door open. Expensive chandeliers decorate the ceiling, the lights of which refract beautifully on the polished marble flooring. Off to the left is the door for Cazador’s study. Dal knocks on the door firmly- soon thereafter you’re called in.

Cazador’s back is turned to the three of you as he picks through his selection of books. He settles on one that’s unmarked. The writing inside appears to be hand written in his cursive. “If tonight goes as meticulously planned, you’ll be greatly rewarded during tomorrow’s ritual. Four more souls is all you’ll need. Between the three of your, that should be fail proof.” He hides a nefarious smirk behind weathered pages, then pivots to face you all. “200 long years of your loyal service will be well worth the-” A pause ensues as he eyes the decanter in your hand and the way Dal styled you.”-wait.” His body becomes slightly rigid with the scent of your blood.

The pit in your stomach grows heavy. The ritual for those sacrifices is tomorrow? That means you need to make every second count. “It shall be done, Master Szarr.” You speak up, walking towards him to present the decanter. “I wanted to leave you a little gift as thanks for your generous rewards.”

He takes the fragile container and leans in to your ear “I can sense it. You have the beauty, intelligence, and spite that could make a whole world beg to surrender. Quite the dangerous combo.” Your breath hitches, not quite sure how to respond. “I was right to make you Astarion’s replacement. ‘Maybe’ you’ll earn a place at my side yet.” Another manipulation tactic... He cares too much about his status to make someone his equal.

“I’m honoured, sire. You won’t be disappointed with tonight’s hunt.” Conjuring an ingratiatingly coy smile gives him high expectations. Prior to returning to Dal and Leon, you let out a low, suggestive whisper “We may as well get started. Enjoy your book in company of my... ‘sweet wine’.”

Your confident demeanour as you walk away almost drives him to open the decanter then and there, but he refrains until after Dal closes the door. A faint sonorous pop signals that he’s opened it and started the consumption. You’re on the clock; 4 hours to find Astarion and let him know what’s going down tomorrow. Things are starting to go as planned.

Chapter Text

The sun had just finished setting in Baldur’s Gate. A beautiful red hue casts over the street as they begin buzzing with night crawlers. This is your first time observing the world with your new eyes and senses. It’s honestly a little overwhelming; hearing everyone’s pulse... smelling the unique scent of blood and sweat through tempting porous skin. Gods... how you wish you could have eaten before leaving the palace. Your stomach lurches violently at the thought of fresh blood.

Dal touches your arm lightly, pulling you out of your hyper-fixation. “How are you holding up?” The look of concern increases when she hears your hunger snarl.

“I can hold it together until we get back to the palace” These weak words are mostly trying to convince yourself instead of her. On top of only having one rat this morning, you drained yourself of 8 oz of blood. Not a great setup for tonight... “Where are we heading?”

“The three of us are scheduled for Elfsong Tavern tonight. I let master know that there was a set of twins I’ve been working on. I should be lucky with them.” Dal gives you a half panicked smile. There’s a lot at stake here... An opportunity to collect the remaining souls, and also your chance to look for Astarion. Leon isn’t privy to him being there, so you need to be careful for everyone’s sake.

Leon chuckles. “Twins, Dal? you’re really setting the bar high tonight.” He turns to you, placing an arm around your shoulders and beaming playfully “If you’ll heed my words, I can tell you how to get anyone you’d like. A beautiful doctor, a handsome merchant, an outcast, you name it.”

You sigh internally, knowing that you have to keep stringing him along to avoid suspicion. Leon tries to be Cazador number two, which is dangerous. “Okay, I’ll ‘bite’. What advice can you bestow upon me...?”

His voice hushes so as to not alert passersby. “The first lesson about luring is that you need to be fairly invested in what they’re saying. Make them feel like they’re being listened to. Maintain eye contact as much as possible. Compliment them well, but not too frequently so as to not seem desperate. Lean forward when engaging- conversely, sit back when letting them speak. The paramount pointer is to be relaxed. The whole room will sense tension.” He holds his head high, taking pride in the lecture he’s giving you. “Lastly, most of them are 100% hooked after you seduce and fuck them.”

You almost choke as he says the last piece so nonchalantly. “Okay, so... actively listen to them, butter them up with sweet nothings, and... seduce them...Piece of cake...” Dal rolls her eyes at Leon while he hums happily at your recount.

A few moments later you arrive at Elfsong Tavern. Business seems a little slower than usual. In a couple of cliques around the bar you hear chatter that there was a murder upstairs, so it has been boarded off for investigation. Two guards stand duty to prevent people from progressing to the next level. Your body tenses, hoping that it wasn’t Astarion. After all, it might not be a coincidence if anyone other than Dal or Petras discovered he was here.

“Dammit all” Leon mumbles. “Looks like we won’t be using any of the rooms upstairs for fun tonight... Nothing like the gloom of murder to throw off the atmosphere.” He does a quick scan of the clientele. Near the back he sees an extremely handsome human drinking by himself, deep in thought. “Dibs.”

“All yours” You muse encouragingly, though truth be told, you’re absolutely stick to your core. The human doesn’t stand a chance and you need to keep your facade up a little longer. He waves dismissively, then wastes no time picking up two drinks and inviting himself to the gentleman’s table.

At this point, you may need to investigate a little to see if your pale friend is even here right now. You turn to Dal “You can go look for the twins- I’ll take it from here. You’ve already stuck your neck out enough for me; seriously, I appreciate everything.”

Dal does a quick screening before placing a ruby necklace in your hand. “If you need this, put this on and press the gem to activate it. It’ll make you and one other person invisible for up to one minute.” Her voice is a little shaky “Don’t tell anyone about this necklace or that you got it from me, please. I kept it from my... former life... instead of disposing it as requested. If Astarion and his travelling companions are here, they’ll be staying in the room next to where the murder happened. I heard they’re helping with the murder investigation and got a deal on the vacant room. No one else is allowed up there- no one that can be seen, anyway.”

Warm relief eases your nerves once you hear that Astarion wasn’t the victim of murder. “You are the best... I promise you will give it back, it sounds very important to you.”

“I didn’t choose this life, nor did I choose the life I lived before this. Water under the bridge now.” Her words are light, yet filled with solemn nostalgia. “I’m really rooting for you...” The sincerity fills you with determination. You need to do this, not just for yourself, but all of the spawn as well. Dal quickly moves from your side to search for the twins.

You head over to the bar to speak with the barkeep. He makes his way towards you while drying a glass. “And what can I get for a lovely lady like youself tonight?”

“I’ll take a glass of Romanee-Conti please. Say, I’m supposed to be meeting with a friend of mine. Handsome curly-haired high elf, helping with the... situation... you have upstairs. Have you seen him?”You shoot him a hopefully look.

He turns to pour a glass for you. “He stepped away earlier today with some interesting company. Uh- I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop on them, but the tall tiefling lady with him seemed pretty... uh- excited?... To visit the Steel Watch Armoury. They’re normally back around this time, if you’d like, I can let him know you’re looking for him?”

“That would be amazing. Yes, if you could let him know his... magistrate friend... is looking for him, he’ll know who you’re talking about.” With some consideration you decided not to tell him your name. After being gone for 30 days or so, there may be several missing posters up around town.

The barkeep nods and slides the drink over to you. As you’re about to pay with some money you took with you, a charming female Drow takes a seat beside you. “This one’s on me, if you’ll allow it.”
Her perfect, pearly white teeth shine at you with the offer.

With her pulse resonating in your ears, you realize how close she really is. Imagining your fangs sinking into her neck, the taste of her blood, makes your mouth run dry and the hunger pangs increase ten-fold. With what little will power you have left, you manage to respond “Thank you for the offer, but I need to go out for some fresh air.” leaving your wine, you stagger your way towards the exit. To your dismay, the Drow begins to follow you. Your pace quickens.

After bursting through the doors, practically running by this point, you knock into someone full force. They push you forward trying to process what just hit them. You find yourself face to face with Astarion. His expression changes from confusion, to realization, to concern after seeing your panic. “By the gods... {Insert your name}, I was starting to think you were dead! What-” He pauses as your crimson eyes hold his gaze frantically. “What in the hells...H-he made you a spawn...?”

Before you can reply to him, the Drow pushes through the exit behind you. Her face lights up immediately. “Ah- it’s fate that we meet again, Astarion. Maybe my luck will be doubled with two spawn.”

A shiver courses through you. Astarion steps in front protectively and gives her a sinister scowl. “Araj, no matter what you say, the answer is still no.”

“How utterly disappointing. Let me speak to the other one. I can sense how hungry she is... And I have just what she’s looking for.” Her face peaks over his shoulder. “I am LITERALLY OFFERING to give you and Astarion my blood. It’s an offer you can’t refuse. Satisfying your hunger, while I, in turn, satisfy my deepest desire to dance on the fence of life and death at the fangs of a vampire. Knock some sense into him will you? I’ll even toss in another incentive, an extremely rare potion.”

Something is off about her. You can’t quite place your finger on it. No matter how crippling this pain is, you must not give in to her... And you absolutely cannot send her back to Cazador to complete the ritual.

“Araj, is it?” Your voice is hoarse, but solid. “It is beyond disgusting, treating someone else as a lesser being. Astarion said no. I do not need to ‘knock sense’ into him, nor speak on his behalf. I do not own him. As for me, I would rather die of hunger than to drink a drop of your blood.” Astarion glances at you with admiration and appreciation.

“Uncultured swine. Fine. I’ll seek my dream elsewhere.” She huffs before storming off.

“Vile Drow...” Astarion scoffs before turning to you with a look of guilt. “I swear, I had no idea Cazador would do this to you. This is all my fault... The bastard even has you luring people in my place.” He observes your dress, hair, and makeup with absolute hatred for his master.

“Astarion, don’t you dare blame yourself for one minute. No matter if you took me there yourself or if I was captured by other means, he would have made me a spawn either way.” You whisper softly. “Let’s go to your rented room for more privacy- your siblings are inside so we’ll need to avoid them. We have a lot to discuss on borrowed time.” He nods in agreement. You take the ruby necklace that Dal gave you and equip it. Pressing the gem makes the two of you invisible. He leads you back inside stealthily.

Leon and Dal are deep in conversation with their ‘subjects’. Thankfully, Astarion is able to bring you upstairs without arousing suspicion. The room is completely empty, but the lit fireplace gives it a cozy feeling. “The other’s are out celebrating a victory we had today. You and I will be uninterrupted for a while.” He eyes you curiously. “I’ll be frank for a moment... I thought Cazador consumed everyone who was kidnapped. What happened, and how are you not under the master’s control right now?”

You shift uncomfortably “After being kidnapped, Cazador carved your infernal pact into my back, then threw me in a feral cell for a month. Over the last 30 days or so, I became intimately acquainted with starvation; living off one rat a day and intermittently feeding him my blood... That’s what led me to discover Cazador’s weakness.” You wipe the sweat from your brow as you begin to get dizzy. “Blood of a defiant person intoxicates him and drives him mad. It’s why he was originally so obsessed with you and your torture... Ultimately, defiance is what lead me to be your replacement. I willingly gave him my blood today to make him drunk so that he would lose control for a few hours.” Your tone takes on a more serious note. “Please... let me help you and your siblings take your freedom back.”

His face goes through a full range of emotion. “That bastard. I wouldn’t have wished that torture on you in a million years...” He grimaces through anger, then looks at you with confusion. “Wait- Infernal pact? Are you talking about the... poem... he put on my back?” With that level of uncertainty, you realize he has no idea what any of this is about. “What in the hells?”

You turn your back to him and lift your hair. Most of the scars are visible over your corset backing. “I was able to learn that this is a pact that Cazador made with a devil. There are symbols for Souls, Spawn, Sacrifice, Mephistopheles, Ascension, Sunlight, and Power. What I gather from this is... all of the lured souls get turned to spawn in order to be sacrificed to Mephistopheles. In return for the sacrifice, Cazador will ascend- becoming powerful and regaining the ability to walk in the sun. What’s worse is... the ritual is tomorrow...”

Astarion is horrified. “I had no idea any of this was going on. All those people I seduced and brought back... I thought they were food for a hungry tyrant, not sacrificial pawns. That means, between all of us, there’s close to 7000 spawn lying around waiting to be gutted. Some sitting in wait for 200 years... Especially... Sebastian...”

You give Astarion’s hand a re-assuring squeeze. “I know it’s a lot to take in, and I’m sorry to throw all of this at you at once.” The look on his face is pure anguish. “If we strike tonight, we’ll have an advantage. Cazador will be intoxicated for another hour and a half or so. Not only that, but his control over the spawn has dropped until then as well.”

“Give me an hour to gather my allies from their celebration. We’ll meet you by the ball room to begin the infiltration.” His eyes cloud over slightly as he processes everything. “By the way... I didn’t have a chance before now. Thank you for saving me- I wouldn’t have gotten away without you... and, it meant a lot when you spoke up for me in front of that vile Drow.”

You smile weakly at him. “Anytime, it’s the least I could-” Your stomach springs violently, causing you to fall to your knees. Astarion kneels at your side instantly and helps you to a couch next to the fireplace.

“It’s my turn to extend some of that kindness back.” He hauls off his elegant white shirt and pulls you in to his flawless, muscular chest.“I know that hunger. How it twists and turns- each lurch eating away at your humanity. You don’t deserve it.” He tilts his head as an invite. “Please, drink from me... get your energy back for this fight and ease your suffering.”

Your arms cling around his shoulders, the pain bringing tears to your eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you... I can’t trust myself with this...It’s too much...”

His fingers move to wipe your tears as he recounts the very words you spoke to him. “The sire bond and hunger may be strong, but you are stronger. The fact that you found a way to manipulate Cazador out of his control and are here making a plan for his demise speaks to that. I know you won’t hurt me, darling.”

You move to straddle him on the couch and place your lips against his neck. He smells so good that you could devour him. “Thank you for trusting me, when I don’t trust myself. I won’t forget it...” His arms wrap around your waist for support while your fangs pierce him.

This is completely unlike the rats you’ve been living off of. Astarion’s blood is sweet and rich like a fine wine. Delicious. A soft moan escapes Astarion as you feast. “Over the last 200 years, not one person stood up for me... until you came along. I warned you of the dangers of my siblings, but instead of saving yourself, you wanted to help me to safety as well. It costed you everything- a normal life in the sun, damning yourself to a lifetime of hunger... And now you’re even offering to help me get my freedom back. What did I do to deserve this.” The question was almost rhetorical, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.

You relax against him as the pain begins subsiding in your stomach. Your tongue delicately traces over the puncture marks, wanting more, but knowing you couldn’t. “I would do it all over again.” You breathe against his clavicle. “Back when we were magistrates together, I looked up to you and basically tailored my methods to yours. The way you carried yourself, the way you fought for civilians, it was invigorating... Then you disappeared before I could even tell you how I felt. I was lost without you, but continued to keep your passion alive by way of fighting for justice... Going through 200 years of pure shit was no doubt difficult, but you never lost sight of yourself. Despite knowing the punishment that awaited, you still tried saving Sebastian from your family, and then you tried saving me. I see you, Astarion. The absolutely amazing man that you are. Everything else was for the sake of survival.” You cup his face and look into his eyes. “I swear to you, I will not stop until you are free.”

The hard-shelled man becomes vulnerable under your touch. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you. I’m not entirely sure how to reciprocate this or what I’m doing, but... What I do know is, this is nice. When we’re done with Cazador...” he kisses your forehead gently. “There’s something I want to show you.”

Your cheeks flush as you hurry to your feet. “I’m looking forward to it... We can take it one step at a-”
All of a sudden a ripple courses through your spine. “No..no..no! Not yet!” You shriek while a crimson mist shrouds your body. The pain returns to the carving in your back, but with a mighty vengeance this time. Removing Dal’s necklace was difficult while fighting against your body. You slide it to Astarion. “Keep... this.. safe... please...”

“Shit... He knows you drank my blood...” Astarion jumps up, your body instinctively moves away from him. “I’ll gather forces and come to-” Just as he’s about to finish his sentence, the mist completely engulfs you, teleporting you to a familiar grim place. The feral Cell. A set of footsteps are heading your way... in a very heavy, angry manner.

Chapter Text

Your body falls to the cavern floor like a heavy piece of lead as the foot steps draw near. He knows... And there’s bound to be severe punishment in the wake of your defiance. Each moment that passes is another where you try to put up a mental barrier in preparation. Soaked in salty sweat, you lay in wait.

Cazador’s hand jams the key into the cell door, his whole body forcing it open with rage.
“FILTHY miscreant.” He hisses, wrapping his hand around your neck and smashing your face into the cold, wet stone. “You DARE drug me with your blood and DEFY my orders? My rules?”

Blood pools in your mouth from the impact. You spit out to the side and smirk at him spitefully “Ironic, isn’t it? That silver-forked tongue of yours wasn’t complaining about me ‘drugging’ you with my blood when you fucked me, or when I gave you that decant-” His foot kicks you so hard that you fly into the corner of the cell. Your scream reverberates through the cavern while a large bruise spreads across your lumbar region. Struggling to your knees, you muster a complacent chuckle. “Face it. The ‘almighty’ Master Szarr lost control, and that EATS you from the inside out.”

“ENOUGH!” His fist makes purchase with your face causing your nose to bleed. “I can smell Astarion on you. What did you think would happen- Hmm? That you’d come waltzing in through the palace with him and stop the ritual?” He looms over you like a vicious vulture. “Well, since you can’t obey me by luring home a mortal, then you’ll face the consequences. When he comes to ‘rescue’ you, I’ll make sure he takes place as the 7000th spawn.”

Panic imprisons your chest. Astarion literally just escaped from Cazador’s grasp. Now he’ll he right back where he started. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked for help. Was it selfish of you...? If he didn’t know about the ritual, maybe he would have gotten away from all of this....

“The dog stops barking as soon as it’s corrected with threats. That’s the way it should be.” Cazador grabs your hair forcefully and hauls you out of the cell. There waits a spiked metal collar with a chain-link leash. He opens it and sets it tightly around your neck. “Your body is my canvas; your blood my paint. If you so much as speak to me again, these spikes will furnish the first stroke.” With the yank of the chain, it punctures the back of your skin. Mind going blank, you’re compelled to descend with him to the lower levels of the cavern.

A grand door opens; The odour of rot and decay pungently traverses this floor. Your veins freeze after setting eyes on cells full of spawn. Gur children, young adults, elderly, the whole lot. You’re met by hollow faces and eyes reluctant to meet your gaze. Their hunger is seemingly triggered by the violence that Cazador ‘blessed’ upon you. Some leer at you with desire, others retreat trying to escape the temptation. However, one in particular clings to the bars with desperation, sniffing the air.

“Oh..You’re not him...” The handsome male human sinks back. “Did he capture you too? H-he brought me to this hell... Abandoned me. Why do you smell like him...?” His face drowns in despondency after seeing that you’re not Astarion. This must be... Sebastian. Your heart slowly breaks for him. How long has he or the others been here?
You mouth 3 words to Sebastian so as to not alert the tyrant. ‘Astarion is coming.’ A slight sight of optimism cascades his features.

Flicking a wrist, Cazador silences Sebastian. He jolts the leash and continues to haul you down another flight of stairs. A luxurious coffin lies ahead of you next to an incantation circle.
To the sides you see Petras, Yousen, Aureila, and Violet being held firmly by powerful magic. At the snap of his fingers, Leon and Dalyria are instantly teleported to the ritual. Dal looks at you, petrified, understanding that you were right all along about the master’s intentions.

“Now, be still, cattle. This is going to hurt...a lot” Cazador retrieves his quarterstaff and impales your pelvis with tremendous vigour. The only thing preventing it from passing through is the wing of your, now fractured, ilium. You glower at him, refusing to give him more satisfaction from a scream. “You see, this is the price you pay for being disobedient.” Blood begins to plaster your lower abdomen. The staff casts a spell, pinning you to the middle-most sacrificial space. The magic is mildly searing your skin, especially under the collar, where it feels like molten hot magma.

Cazador crosses his arms, eyes boring into you. The smugness is infuriating. He takes a moment admire all of his children being drained of their life-force. Everything is in place- except for the singular, final spawn. A smile creeps across his face in cold calculation, knowing his pale elf would be arriving shortly.

Light foots steps dash down the stairs, but, from what you can tell, only one set. Is he mad? Coming down here alone? You try to struggle against the spell in vain. When he comes into sight, you can see that his light leather armour is stained a deep red. There must have been some resistance in getting here.

“Ah, is this truly our prodigal son? Have you no respect for yourself? Feeding a peasant your own blood, knowing the disciplinary action that would follow?” Cazador gives Astarion an even-tempered, yet sinister, glare. “Now you’re crawling back to us. Your family. You should be begging for forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness? You’ve never forgiven anything. No matter how big or little the mistake, everything was punishment with you.” Astarion scowls through pure anger, looking between your mangled body on display and the tyrant before him.

“I strove for perfection in all things. Even those as imperfect as you and her. A pity that you amounted to nothing. “Cazador hisses.

You try calling out Astarion, but the collar tightens around your neck. “SILENCE, WRETCH. Or I will crush your esophagus to the point you’re still alive, but wishing you were dead.” The nefarious glint in his eye is enough to make you submit for the time being.

“No! No. Fuck you. And fuck everything you’ve ever done to us... You son of a bitch” Astarion lunges at Cazador, but with a stomp of the quarterstaff, his body stops; unable to move a muscle.

Cazador huffs dramatically. “You forgot how powerful I am. How disappointing.” The staff wills Astarion’s body to smash off of a pillar near you. He begins sliding off of the jagged end of the platform, clinging to the ledge for dear life. Cazador meanders around rubble slowly, making his way towards the impending doom. He grabs Astarion’s curly locks and lifts him until they are eye to eye.

‘Gods, this isn’t good’ You grimace to yourself through the pain, inhaling deeply. One foul move and Astarion is lost to the void. However, his soul would still be able to be used in the ritual. It’s been a long time since you used magic... One thing that you vowed never to use again after the incident the took place before becoming a magistrate. But you need it now more than ever.
Using your sorcerer ability, you can cast a spell without verbal components. Your hands have just enough movement for the somatic piece. All of your focus is put on Cazador as you cast Banishment.

Almost instantaneously, you and your siblings are released from the hold. Astarion’s body collapses near the ledge. You limp towards him, the left side of your body struggling with weight bearing because of this fractured Ilium.

“A-are you okay, darling?” He cringes at the gruesome sight of the collar on your neck and the hole where the quarterstaff impaled you. Despite the suffering, you extend a hand to him to help him up, he accepts.

“No time to talk, he’ll be back within a minute... Please... help me take this collar off...” Your strength is fairly depleted from being drained. Astarion quickly unhooks it and tosses it into the cavern. The relief doesn’t quite outmatch the wounds. You look towards the other siblings promptly. “Brothers, sisters- This is your chance. Our chance. You now know that the promises that master made are empty. We were all marked to be sacrificed to Mephistopheles, not to be rewarded. Together we rebel. Together, we take our freedom back!” The encouragement lifts the spirits of the spawn, they cheer with the opportunity given to them.

Everyone crowds around the incantation circle just in time for Cazador to return from the demiplane.
“INCONCEIVABLE-” Cazador yells, starting to point the quarterstaff at you, but Dal tackles him. The staff is knocked towards Astarion. Leon and Petras move in to grab his arms and put him in a head lock. Taking this opening, you cast Hold Person on him.

Astarion picks up the quarterstaff, mulling over possibilities. What if he were to use the ritual?
There’s fear in his eyes... hunger... and a quaint desire for power. The ability to do anything. To be anything. The last 200 years were not kind to him; he has every right to be angry and to want something more... but will his decision be to the detriment of thousands?

“I know it’s tempting... but you do know what the consequences are; sacrificing 7000 of us.” You whisper towards him, a knot forming in the pit of your core. Your voices snaps him out of his trance. “They deserve another chance at life. We all do. You won’t have to go through this alone.”

“I...You’re right...” After a brief pause he nods and takes the staff to command it to open the spawn cells. Then he breaks it into smithereens over his knee. His saunter towards Cazador is filled with longing and uncertainty. Leon passes him the master’s Rhapsody dagger. “I am so much better than than you... But I’m not above enjoying this...”

Cazador snarls from his confinement. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done, stupid boy?! 200 years of effort gone to waste?!”

Your consciousness begins to waver with the blood loss. You could lose the spell any moment. “Watch your tongue... ‘master’. You’ll get your just deserts. Now it’s time for us to... ‘Kill... your... mind’.” You made sure every syllable was filled with resentment and mockery.

The dagger plunges into Cazador’s chest over and over in an animalistic fury. A pathetic whimper of defeat finds its way from his lungs as his lifeless body slumps over. Astarion sinks to his knees... cries of frustration, sadness, vengeance fill the air. A period of respectful silence ensues.
You move towards him, staggering. One hand gently rests on his shoulder as you join his side. You pull him into a weak hug, but there’s no grip “It’s over... You did it... So proud... of you...”
Everything is starting to go numb and black, just like the time Cazador fully drained you for the transformation.

Astarion regards your condition worriedly and pulls you onto his lap. “Don’t die on me... D-dammit!” He tears off his undershirt through the armour and applies pressure to your lower abdomen. Your heartbeat decelerates alarmingly.

Dal rushes to your side. “Not dying on my watch.” Her hands lay over Astarion’s on your gaping wound. The familiar green warmth washes over your body. The hole slowly starts to close.

“Thanks... Dal... Today wouldn’t have been possible... without you...” You manage to mutter. Her soft, genuine smile spoke louder than her quietness. She could have continued to follow orders, but she put everything on the line to give you intel.

Astarion’s form relaxes seeing that Dal can heal you. “Yes... Thank you...It means so much to know you were by our side.” He continues to hold you tightly on his lap, then addresses the others. “Well... You’re all free now. It’s up to you whether you want to hide from all of this, or if you want to be more than what Cazador made us to be. There’s going to be a lot of spawn set free. They’ll need to learn how to live with their hunger. We are responsible for their affliction...” Astarion turns his attention to Petras. “Someone will need to lead them to the Underdark, or at least somewhere less perilous.”

Petras rambles. “Wait you can’t mean-”

“Yes. please guide them. All of us have spent decades living with vampirism, so it would be best for us to support their transition and coping. I have a few important things to tend to, then I will join you.” Astarion gives Petras a serious look. He nods and heads above ground with the others, with the exception of Dal who is almost done stopping your bleeding.

“How are you doing, love?” He anxiously returns his attentiveness to you and caresses your hair. “Ah- and before I forget, I did manage to keep this safe for you...” The ruby necklace presents itself undamaged.

“I’m going to be okay- It doesn’t feel like I’m at death’s door... anymore...” You manage a light chuckle before taking the necklace. “Thank you for keeping this safe. I promised Dal that I’d return it to her...” Her face lights up as you hand it to her.

Her voice quivers. “I was right to put my trust in you to get our freedom back. I’ll join the others and help them with the spawn, but please come see us when you’re done tending to your own affairs.” Her embrace is tight, like she doesn’t want to let go. Once the punctures in your neck are closed, she takes her leave.

Your body is now stabilized and you can move again. “What about you... How are you holding up? This must all be... extremely difficult for you.” You try choosing your words carefully. “What possessed you to do all of this by yourself?”

Astarion wraps his arms around you. “An hour gathering allies? That would’ve been far too long, love. For all I know he could have killed you. I’ve lost so, so much... It would have been unbearable to lose you too... Not quite sure what I would have done if Dal couldn’t heal you...” His whisper slides along your ear. He places his thumb on your chin gently and gives you a deep yearning kiss. “I think we’re done here. It reeks of death and I just want to feel alive again. Let’s head back- I’ll need some time to let this all sink in.” His fingers intertwine with yours as you both head towards the elevator.

Chapter Text

The long, steamy bath was well deserved tonight. It allowed time to clear your mind and give some privacy to Astarion to think about the earlier events. You return to the common area almost feeling like a new person... Well... You sort of are a new person, in a sense, given the vampirism. Heat from the fireplace seeps into your skin as you sit on the couch next to Astarion in a cute, silk bathrobe that came as a feature with the room. Because of Dal’s healing and lesser restoration, your fracture has bonded, the aches are practically non-existent, and you are no longer bloodless. All that remains are the keloid scars that will become less prominent with time. The flickers of the flames dance on Astarion’s face while he remains deep in thought. If only you could take all his sorrow away...

“It’s really over...” His worn eyes meet your gaze. “I need to thank you-” He pauses to contemplate how to put his thoughts and emotions into words. “-for trusting me and accepting me for who I am... For giving me and the other spawn an opportunity to retaliate against our oppressor... And for not giving up like many of us did... You are an incredibly beautiful, strong-willed woman and a fierce sorcerer.” He seems distant, thinking back to trying times where he attempted retaliating, but was ultimately forced to give in. “I might not have appreciated everything you did for me back there, but I do now... It was so tempting to take that power for selfish reasons, I literally would have become Cazador...”

You lean towards him, hand caressing his cheek considerately. “Astarion, we are in this together. You ultimately did the right thing; saving thousands of lives that were to be sacrificed. Everything that happened before now was a matter of survival. Sebastian and the others know that, and we will fulfill our promise to help them in the Underdark.” You declare with conviction, wholeheartedly emphasizing the ‘we’. In the beginning it was difficult to imagine how life would be as a spawn, but now... It almost seems more adventurous than the life previously lived as a magistrate. Perhaps this is your new calling; bringing about help and justice for those who were pressured to live a life they didn’t get to choose.

He closes his eyes and nuzzles into your palm. A strong sense of gratitude weaves into his response “-We- saved thousands of lives, darling. The gods only know what choice I would have made if I was alone in my vengeful state. You kept me level-headed and in touch with my old self.” Astarion pulls you in closer, then places his forehead against yours. “I do need to ask though...Is this -truly- what you want? To be confined to the Underdark with me and 7000 starving, feral spawn?” His body goes rigid and still in anticipation of rejection. “I wouldn’t blame you if you decide to back out...”

No pondering is needed for your answer. “I would spend an eternity in pure darkness facing any obstacle... if it meant never leaving your side again.” How long have you yearned to say those words? To be this close to him? 205 years? You want to commit every moment of this to memory. The smell of rosemary and bergamot from his clothes, the soft touch of his perfect skin, the deepness of his dark, crimson eyes, a hunger that goes far beyond that of survival... It makes you think back to the last time you were here- to consider the things you couldn’t appreciate before due to starvation; how, without hesitation, he removed his shirt and held you close to feed, his taut muscles that supported you while you were weak, the... oh-so-delightful moan that escaped his lips when you bit him. As your cheeks flush, your heart also begins to quicken at the intimate recollection.

“I was so hoping you’d say that...” A playful smirk edges on his face. “My little treat with her cheeks all flushed. I can hear your pulse, you know... I wonder how it would react if I do this-” His thumb lightly brushes your bottom lip to rest on your chin, making your heart skip a beat. The proximity closes between both of your mouths. “A whole eternity with me in the darkness- hmm? Whatever the future holds for us, I don’t want to lose that. I want this. I want all of it... I love you. Always have, even when we were Magistrates...”

Light, passionate kisses slowly make their way from your craving lips down the right side of your neck, each movement stoking the desire in your core. “I love you too...” You murmur against his ear while he jostles your silk robe open to teasingly leave a hickey on your clavicle. His breath caresses you more delicately than a wisp of the weave as his body presses up against you. Your thighs begin to tingle and tense. A low grumble gurgles from his stomach. After fighting through Cazador’s Palace single-handedly, he must be running on low. “Astarion...” The purr of his name from your lips arouses him. “Could you please... drink my blood? I’m ‘dying’ for you to taste me...”You tilt your head as an invitation. He hesitates a moment, knowing how much you’ve already lost. “No need to worry, Dal replenished my reserve with her magic.”

“You generous little thing... I’ll take what I need, and not a drop more.” He removes his shirt to pre-emptively avoid getting blood on it, then traces your neck with his fangs. This will be his first time drinking from a ‘thinking creature’, so he cautions himself to be gentler. His breath becomes shallow after inhaling the sweet scent under your skin. The piercing does not equate to what you experienced in the palace. There’s barely any pain. Instead, you have heightened sensitivity throughout your body. His chest being pressed up against you, the lingering sensation from his attention to your clavicle and lips, and the tingle in your thighs, it all intensifies. A gasp escapes your mouth as you let yourself melt into him. You take a fist full of his hair to bring him deeper into your neck.

Astarion notices you’re enjoying the moment like he did when the roles were reversed. He takes the opportunity to slide the silk robe off your shoulders in order to grasp a breast. His middle finger gingerly circles your nipple. Your body arches in response to his touch, a lustful moan expressing his name. This level of intimacy is new to him. None of this was based on lies, commands, or rules. Taking things at his own pace and through his own will is refreshing.

The robe gets tossed to the floor as his teeth retract from your neck. To his delightful surprise, you’re not wearing anything underneath. “Delicious...” Astarion’s tongue delicately licks the puncture until the bleeding stops. You shiver at the sensation from his tongue while boldly working at the belt on his pants. Upon removing it, he pulls your wrist away and holds it with the other one behind your back.
“~Not yet, my sweet... I’m taking care of you first...” The mischievous whisper dances in your ear as he places pecks down your sternum.

He positions your body at the end of the couch and transfers to his knees on the floor. A blush invades your face as he gives you a flirtatious smile. His mouth solicitously makes contact with your clitoris, causing your legs to wrap around his shoulders. Waves of pleasure course through you as his attention is well placed on your favourite spots. “~Yes... Right there...” You moan through little tremors in your nerves.

Astarion happily hums against you and brings his fingers to your entrance. The middle finger and ring finger slide in, stroking your g-spot all too slowly. Your organs tense, but do not go any further. He begins to intermittently speed up and stop, making you edge at the precipice of climax over and over, waiting for you to beg for more.

“~Ah-I need you, Astarion... Now... please... “You plead desperately “Devour me...!” He huffs, content with you plea, then rams his fingers into your sensitive spots while licking wildly against your clit. Screams of his name fills the air as you crash over your threshold of pleasure.

“I love it when my name parts from your lips in such a naughty way. Every piece of your perfect body whispers temptation...” He returns to your side and pins you against the couch to kiss you intimately. His cock pulsates against you through his tight leather pants. You rub him tenderly, lovingly, while his tongue mingles with yours. Astarion’s breathing becomes staggered when you focus on the head. Tasting yourself on him drives you mad, the relief you felt after being eaten was short lived.

Your hands attempt to unzip his pants again. This time you’re not stopped. After hauling them past his hips, you push him against the back of the couch so you can straddle him. The glint in his eye shows he’s trilled and excited. You sway your hips and grind on him to tease him, playfully nipping at his jawline. “~Fuck...” He groans, gripping your waist in attempts to control his desire.

The tip penetrates you, but you refuse to take the full shaft yet. Astarion deserves to be exposed to the same slow burn that he put you through. Your hands caress his pectoralis major as you make small oscillations, each slightly increasing to take him a little deeper inside. Now knowing that one of his kinks is being bitten, you intertwine your fingers with a set of his and bring his wrist to your mouth. He gives you a lustful look and bites his bottom lip in anticipation. While your teeth sink into his carpal region, you take his cock at an angle where you maximize the penetration. His eyes roll back in his head as he groans.

You begin picking up the pace, making him rock hard and sweetening his blood more than you could have imagined. The lewd pleasure written on his face while he watches you ride him and feed makes you extremely wet and hot. “~Gods you’re so beautiful... I want to fuck you until your mind goes blank... until you lose your voice from yelling my name...” He moans, growing even bigger inside of you.

His pulse is loud and pounding with hopes of release. You suck the remaining blood from his wrist, then slide off of him. You guide him to stand so that you can bend over the couch suggestively, spreading your legs towards him “~Please, do your worse”.

Without missing a beat, he uses your shoulders as leverage and slams into you. Astarion becomes completely lost in his primal instincts. As you both crash through your climaxes, the air is not only filled with sounds of your skin making intense impact, but also with your names being screamed in countless indecent ways. It’s hard to tell how many times you came- the sensation and thrusting persisted and felt way too good. What you do know, is he completely filled you.

Astarion lies back on the arm of the couch, then hauls you to lie on top of him. His lean, muscular arms wrap around you while the two of you pant, trying to catch your breath.
“Fuck... That was worth the 200 some-odd year wait....” You sigh with satisfaction, hauling a blanket from the top of the couch to cover you both. “This was my... first time in a very long time. See, I haven’t... been in a relationship since becoming a magistrate.”

Astarion gasps in disbelief. “Seriously? Someone of your intelligence and beauty? What a crime. Though... I am honoured you enjoyed this tonight and that I had you all to myself.”

“Not because I couldn’t... Because no one lived up to the respect and admiration that I have for you...” You whisper holding one of his hands over your heart. “But enough of that. You’re here, we’re safe... and now we can focus on the future.” Your head tilts so you can give him a thoughtful smile.

He hesitates a moment before speaking up. “Unfortunately there’s still danger lurking around the corner... I didn’t want to burden you with this on top of Cazador... But if you’re open to it, I could really use your help...”

“Come to think of it- Dal did mention that you found a way to escape Cazador’s control. Is it related to the danger you speak of?” You regard him curiously and muse “Please don’t tell me you took out a pact with a devil.”

His laugh shakes your body. “Ha! Believe it or not, a devil named Raphael did try making a pact with me. But of course, yours truly declined- despite the temptation.” The tone of his voice switches gears. “In a few days Baldur’s Gate will be attacked by Mind Flayers and an Elder Brain called the Absolute. The Mind Flayers populate by infecting people with tadpoles. Most recipients undergo ceremorphosis within a short period of time. I was kidnapped the day I escaped from Cazador and infected with this tadpole, along with my new travelling companions, but we have yet to become subject to ceremorphosis. Someone inside of a Gith artifact is protecting us. The two most peculiar benefits of this tadpole are that Cazador’s control no longer reached me, and I can walk in the sun again. Though... once we find a way to get rid of this damned thing and defeat the Absolute, I’ll lose that ability.”

“By the gods... you attract the oddest trouble...” You flip to lie on your belly, then cup his face. “Astarion, No matter what happens... We will find a way to get rid of these tadpoles and help the spawn.”

He looks into your eyes with a sense of appreciation. “I-Thank you... I know we can overcome anything together, love.” His arms pull you up until you’re resting on his chest. “But... that can wait until tomorrow... Tonight, I have 200 long years to make up for.”
His smirk reignites with deviance as he leans forward to take your mouth in his once more.

Chapter Text

Astarion’s chin dips due to how you’re lying on him on the couch and his eyes roam your face. A brief pause passes before he speaks again. “Just simply beautiful, Darling...” You give him a breathless look, absentmindedly rubbing your hands over his chest. His thumb trails from the edge of your eye, down your cheek, along the set of your jaw, and then to your bottom lip, eliciting an unintended gasp from you. He smirks deviously, leaning closer until your mouths are just inches apart. “Now that I have you, I never want to lose you again.”

His gaze meets yours, and all you can think about are the moments your shared until now. Bringing justice in the court room, defying statically crazy odds, denying a vampire fanatic, killing your master, getting a delicious taste of each other... Would he have taken things this far if he didn’t become a spawn? If you were both still magistrates? That shouldn’t be going through your mind right now. Your cheeks flush at the thought, and you’re certain he can see the redness. Not to mention that he can probably hear the hammering of your heart against its surrounding rib cage.

You start to pull away, but there was no time to react to what happens next. He was shockingly fast as he rolls you against his chest and lifts to pin you to a wall with his torso. A hand curls around your waist, his fingers pushing up over your curves to graze your skin. Astarion’s lips connect with yours, the method teetering along a fine line of romantic skill and feral lust. His eyes remain open, as if he’s afraid you would disappear if he closes them. They are so dilated that only a thin strip of his crimson colour remains. A low growl rumbles out of him and goes straight through you. Your heart almost stops. The nearly black eyes run the length of you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were seconds away from being breakfast.

Hands gripping your hips, his mouth places kisses down your stomach until he reaches your pelvis, simultaneous as he descends to the ground. The curve of his chin rests on your sensitive flesh, tilting up so he can keep tabs on your face. His warm breath dances beneath you, causing a welcomed tension to clamp down in your chest and a coil to form even lower. An indecent throbbing thrums from within your thighs and your abdomen clenches tightly as his tongue slides between your folds. Another growl comes from him, this one different from the last; deeper and coarser, like a predator ready to pounce and satisfy an insatiable hunger.

The movement of his mouth attempts to soak banked flames inside you. Heart pounding, you tug at his arm that’s firmly attached to my hip while he digs into your delicious ache. Pulses of arousal course through your veins, dampness increasing between your legs. Being this taken by Astarion almost comes naturally. Your entire body shudders to a point that you can barely breathe, let alone think. Your synapses fire all at once, fingers spasming open and gripping a fist full of his hair. His tongue obliterates you, seeming to signal to him that you’re ready for his fingers. The air leaves your lungs as he devours the centre of you and penetrates you with his index and middle digits. He captures your flesh, delving into the hotness with firm determination. The strokes of his mouth feed him as if you were the sweetest nectar.

Your head kicks back as you become wholly consumed, lost in the raw sensations of climax, screaming his name through the chamber. Hips moving of their own accord, you writhe roughly against his mouth. He holds you in place to lessen the assault of your thrusts, there was no escaping it, even if he wanted to. Everything inside you twists and turns as you shatter into a million pieces, rolling into a second orgasm on his tongue. The release resonates through your body in undulating waves. Your back slams and arches against the wall when his teeth scrape your bundle of nerves. It was too much, too good.

His head lifts, leaving trembling legs in his wake. Your eyes blink in a daze, what little air entered your lungs left again when you see how black his eyes have become instead of red. They are endless and heated. His glistening mouth shines with the fireplace light as he stands. Eager lips search for yours again, the taste of your release transitioning from his tongue to yours. A thick throbbing cock presses against your lower stomach while Astarion shudders, a longing desire adorned on his very soul.

Your bare feet curl against the wood floor. It feels as though your life has changed irrevocably within hours. A muscle flexes in Astarion’s jaw and you press closer to him, exciting a gaze of incredulity. His lush lashes lower, placing a knee between your legs while his arms pin both sides of your head. Chest rising and falling sharply, he leans in to your ear. “This is your last chance to change your mind, darling.”

Darling... The term of endearment he bestowed upon you. Somehow it still makes your insides stir. Swallowing hard, you nod and whisper “I’m not going anywhere.”

The darkness of remaining hunger etches deeply into his features. His voice was rougher, barely recognizable as he speaks against your skin. “Good, because I won’t be holding back or stopping until I undo what you’ve done to me.” Your heart skips a beat, a tendril of fear laced with excitement curling itself around the forbidden, wicked swell of anticipation within you. His cool fingertips trace down the right side of your neck, down your side, and to your thigh. The scent of Bergamot protrudes from his wrists and threatens to suffocate you as much as his desire that settles in your stomach as a gnawing ache that seems bottomless.

His body vibrates with need, cheek grazing against yours. Then, he struck. With fiery passion and lust, he steals your breath with one of the most intimate kisses you’ve ever bore witness to. Your body threatens to move back, but you bump into the wall.

Astarion’s teeth tug against your bottom lip and you feel that staggering pull in every part of your body, overtaking you. He licks away the small trickle of blood that escapes from the incised skin, then slides his thick cock against your folds to wet himself. When he prods at your entrance, it becomes utterly intoxicating. So much so that nothing exists in the world except for how your bodies are intertwined. Thrusting in deep, the long draws of your moans leave you and fill him. His hand that grips your thigh pulls your leg up to wrap around him while the other plants firmly on your back. Your hands rise to rest against his chest, allowing you to feel his muscles bunching under your palms while he melodically pushes in to you. Your pulse grows, heating your blood and skin.

Sensing that your shaking legs are growing weak, Astarion pins you harder against the wall to continue ravaging with extra support. Your body jerks with a flood of longing, each breath seeming too shallow as a razor sharp type of pleasure that leaves its own version of scars courses through you. Astarion presses forward with unexpected force, his hips grinding into your tightening wetness through ferocious kisses.

Oh gods, the feeling him against you, inside of you, and consuming you is driving you mad. A dull roaring noise blares in your ears and you are suddenly drowning in a torrent of sensations that comes at you in endless waves. Your swollen lips detach from Astarion’s, head flying back to rest against the wall. The spawn’s trembling hands move along the length of your spasming thigh, lifting you higher. It allows him to go even deeper, driving the hardest parts of him, into the softest parts of you.

You have become the fire inside your blood, something utterly daring and shameless; Astarion is the air that feeds it. His hips sink faster into yours and your body answers without conscious thought, churning against him, as he stokes your flames. The tension coils and drives you precariously close to the edge.

One of his hands lace into your hair while an arm wraps around your waist. He takes you into his embrace while still thrusting and brings you to his bed, laying you against the oddly warm sheets. Your legs get pinned back to give him more control over the motion and he rails into you until you see stars. You come undone again and again around his length, his name flowing from your tongue as if it’s a prayer.

Nearing his own climax, he pulls you into a sitting position and slides his cock into your mouth. You lean forward to bury him to the hilt, making your throat contract around his throbbing release. He trembles and groans against you. The salty, yet sweet, seed trickles down your esophagus and you make sure to swallow every ounce. After he softens and removes himself, you stand to kiss him once more, allowing him taste himself the way he did it to you.

His eyes close to draw in a ragged breath. “Y/N” The way he says your name with such depravity sends shivers down your spine. When they open again, his eyes are nearly a luminous red. Focused. Gorgeous. “I look forward to spending the rest of this life with you...”