#unhappy marriages and violent sex make for a spicy time

[ofsilentthings]

one hundred thirty-two.

A. Astarion/Spawn Tav. A little one-shot about their *happy married life* (sarcasm, of course). Mind the tags, this is a spicy one.

Tonight is her wedding anniversary, and she hates her husband more than ever.

There is no party planned this evening, not like there had been in their early years. Up until their one hundredth anniversary Astarion had insisted on lavish balls driven by multi-day orgies. All the finest food for the living; all the tender flesh and sweet blood for the two of them. The gatherings had gotten gradually less spectacle driven. Like the peeling of skin from flesh, eventually all that one is left with is raw viscera, oozing blood. Formless. It was like Astarion had run out of steam for such sultry soirees, like they had both experienced all that the escapades could offer. Taviana did not mind, for the anniversary nights always took a toll on her body and mind.

Tonight is her anniversary, and Taviana is spending it sitting in the drawing room of their estate, reading a book. Alone.