#tutor astarion

[writerformanymuses]

as an adult, i spent all day yesterday running Saturday school for teenagers. (yes, that's a thing in the south.) the only thing i had energy for after was to read astarion fanfiction for four hours straight once i got home. (i did write during my break, so snippet later)

this relaxing activity got me CALLED OUT YET AGAIN by my friend for having a type. because when i had to explain who astarion is, her only fucking response was, "oh, so a white armand that's sassy?"

cue me having a crisis because now i have been called out for howl pendragon, armand, and astarion within the past month.

so guess what, this is part two of me screaming, I HAVE A TYPEEEEEEEEEE. I HAVE A NICHEEEEEEEE. I HAVE A DYNAMICCCCCCCCC.

give me feral man who survive hell who desperately needs whomp and kisses. give me crazy killer who just needs daisy tucked behind ear and big cuddles. give me gentle hearted creature deep down who just needs to be seen as worth loving and a loving ruffle of the hair.

p.s. armand is fucking hilarously sassy thank you very much. -slams door behind me-

[swordmaid]

post canon hag romance are travelling adventurers but I also like the idea that astarion keeps correspondence with his siblings and he’s very updated on what’s happening to the underdark vampires. astarion and shri’iia are on their own little quest to find a cure for the vampirism — or at the very least, find something that can either help to sate the hunger or help him walk under the sun (but a cure would be best). they do their heroic deeds and collect the favours, and when it’s time to cash in they’re always asking looking for something that can help alleviate some of the vampirism symptoms. and if they find something, and it works for astarion, they go off and send it to the underdark coven. I also like the idea of astarion visiting them too from time to time, except shri’iia doesn’t risk going down in the underdark anymore or else she might face lolth’s punishment, so she will send him instructions and advice on navigating through the underdark, what to look out for and what to avoid, then she’ll wait patiently for him to return up the surface again.

in his part knowing how homesick she sometimes get, he’ll bring her something from the underdark (like food or fungi or whatever funky thing he finds) and gifts it to her the moment he returns. I like the idea that he tends to look out for any underdark/drow items in the surface too, bc shri’iia is still very attached to her home even though she’s forced to leave it behind, and he buys her any items he finds (and bonus points if it’s jewellery of some kind) bc she knows she’ll appreciate it. I also like the idea that she teaches him how to speak in drowic too hehe, and a majority of the names she’ll call him are the very few drowic endearment terms with the main one being alurlssrin. anyway I like the idea of shri’iia still keeping in touch with her culture even though she’s divorced from it now, since one of the biggest change she experienced when she was dropped off in the surface was the fact that no one spoke her language until minthara came along, and she’s not fluent in common tongue either.

[art-by-ady]

The BloodOakWeave Dads raising the orphans in Moonrise region (AFTER THE EPILOGUE)

The kids are aware that Astarion is a vampire spawn and he sometimes use it to tease them. I imagine Astarion as a sort of girl dad, and not just with the girls. He spoils the kids, plays dress up and holds tea parties with them. He loves to formulate pranks with them, targeted especially towards Gale.

Gale is the responsible dad. He tutors the kids, makes sure they are well fed and well-mannered. Sometimes he can be strict especially during study time. But he makes sure the household is running smoothly. When the kids behave he treats them to some sweets (but they need to brush their teeth afterwards!)

And Halsin is the explorer dad. For him, learning can be found outside the classroom walls. He takes them fishing, camping and hiking. He teaches the kids how to take care of nature, about finding balance and harmony within it. He also invites some animal friends for the kids to meet. Everyday is an adventure with Daddy Halsin, sometimes nicks and scrapes are expected (and he heals them without Gale finding out).

I am so invested in this idea! What are your thoughts? Share them with me, I’m so excited 🤗

[avocado-writing]

hihi! can i please request the bg3 male companions + rolan and a tav who can’t read? my tav grew up in the woods so although they’re a strong folk hero, they can’t read and they’re very insecure about it!!! thank you so much! i love ur work avo

what a sweet idea for a Tav! Writing as if you want to learn to read when the truth comes out.

Astarion

Wants to be catty but can see how genuinely upset you are by the idea he’s mock you, so holds off.

He’s so used to being dramatic he can’t work out how to be genuine with you about this.

Gets some advice from around the camp - mainly Wyll - about good starting off books, and makes a shopping trip.

If you want him to he sits with you and helps you sound out the words, even when you’re frustrated, and is so pleased whenever you’re proud of finishing a sentence.

Gale

If you want to learn, he’ll teach you - but it will be hard going.

You have a lesson every night. It’s infuriating. He’s very calm and patient though, never mocking you for not understanding something or taking a while to get it.

Is overly reassuring, letting you know it’s fine you didn’t know until now and he’s proud he can help you take that step.

The first thing you wrote him - a thank-you note with a shaky hand - is pressed in the jacket of his favourite book, a precious keepsake.

Wyll

Will offer to help teach you, or if you’d prefer, will get you a tutor when times are more settled.

If the latter, when he is duke, he gets you the finest teacher to help you learn how to read.

If the former he gets a set of his childhood favourites and helps you sound out the words, enthusiastically encouraging you each and every time.

Eventually he writes you love letters to read, and then you write them back - and he has a treasured timeline of your courtship to keep.

Halsin

He did not grow up learning to read, either. There were far more important things in the forest. Letters have their place, of course, but nature is far more valuable.

If you want to learn, you join in the lessons with the cartloads of children he adopts under the guise of observation - and afterwards he’s always happy to see how you’re getting along.

At the same time there is no pressure. He loves you as you are and sees no reason for you to change, unless it’s something you want for yourself.

Rolan

You’re so used to bickering with him, he’s floored when this truth is revealed - he wants to say something petty but knows the look of hurt in your eyes, waiting for him to sling barbs.

In fact he leaves mid-squabble because he’s so surprised.

The next day you come to find he’s been doing research for you - spells which make reading easier to parse, text-to-speech enchantments, any discreet tutors around the city…

He’s too proud to accept your thanks, still the same silly stubborn tiefling you fell for. But you do see his cheeks grow flushed when you kiss him…

[littlejuicebox]

Bruised.

Summary: School is not going well for Gale. Astarion and you rush to pick up your child after an unfortunate event leads to his injury. This is really just a little bonus blurb to the other piece I posted earlier today titled “Camping for beginners.”

Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, Astarion being Astarion, parenthood, childhood, school bully, injury to a child, minor angst, this is unedited so there may be grammatical errors etc

Traffic on Wyrm’s Crossing is at a standstill. The two of your are in the carriage, rushing to pick up Gale after a sending spell announced recess went terribly wrong. Your eldest was injured by another child.

“Gods below, can we go any faster?” Astarion complains before sticking his head out the window and pounding angrily on the roof of the carriage to catch the driver’s attention. He barks an order and then ducks back inside the caravan just as the vehicle is forced into high speed.

Wyrm’s Crossing isn’t particularly long, but in this moment, it feels like the crossway between you two and your son’s school is further than a mere 2000 feet.

You sigh as you attempt to placate your husband, “Astarion, we have to try and be reasonable when we walk in, we can’t—“

“Reasonable!” Astarion hisses with a wry laugh, turning to look at you for the first time since you two rushed into the carriage, “Is it reasonable, darling, that our son has been attacked for the second time this year?”

“Of course not! But we have to—“ You start, but your husband cuts you off with a seething glare. You are not at all used to being on the receiving end of his vitriol; it’s shocking.

“I wanted tutors, but you insisted it would be good for Gale to be with other children closer to his age and look how bloody well that’s going, Tav!” He snaps, his hand slamming against the side of the carriage again in his rage.

That stung. Tears begin to well in your eyes as a reaction to your husband’s cutting remark.

Astarion groans and then pinches the bridge of his nose with a leather-gloved hand as he works to regain control over his emotions. He sighs and rubs his hand down his face before opening his eyes and looking at you, “I’m sorry, my love. That was unfair. I just— gods, let’s just get Gale and take care of this.”

You nod, still blinking away tears and unable to say anything further as you turn your face away from your husband and gaze outside the carriage window.

Astarion closes his eyes and chastises himself as he leans back into the carriage seat. The rest of the journey is made in silence.

*

When the two of you enter the headmaster’s office, you immediately spot Gale holding an ice bag over his eye. Astarion rushes to inspect the six year old and instantly fills with wrath, spinning on his heels to address the headmaster.

“Who did this, Alaric?” Astarion questions, stepping far too closely to the half-elven headmaster and jabbing an accusatory finger into the man’s chest, “Who did this under your watch?”

Headmaster Alaric Frostborne is no stranger to upset parents; he’s been in charge of the school for nearly fifty years. The half elf calmly holds his ground as he addresses Astarion, explaining he does not know who gave Gale a black eye but is working to find out.

You pull your six year old into your lap and help him hold the ice pack against his eye as you whisper a healing spell. The damage is done, and surely the school nurse has already used more than one healing potion, but you do it regardless. It might not help heal the bruising past this point, but you hope it will at least comfort your child.

In the safety of your lap, Gale finally begins to cry. The tears are silent, apart from the occasional sniffle, and you pull your eldest tightly against you, whispering words of comfort into his ear. He continues to weep as his father speaks to the headmaster.

“This is the second time this year, Alaric. I am sure I don’t need to remind you that my wife’s name is on an entire wing of this school,” Astarion continues, far too measured for the rage boiling inside as he spits his words at the headmaster, “So unless the Ancunins are to pull the donations you so desperately solicit from us each year, I suggest you work harder to fix this issue.”

Astarion turns and reaches for your son, knowing himself well enough to realize that if he does not leave the situation now, Alaric Frostborne will have a shiner matching Gale Ancunin’s.

You release the boy from your grip, allowing your husband to hoist the child into his arms and carry him out of the office. You watch through the window as two silver-haired heads enter the carriage.

You stand and linger for a moment longer, turning your cool gaze to Alaric as you assess him.

“I am a patient woman, Headmaster Frostborne,” You begin, your arms coming to cross your chest, “And perhaps viewed as more kind and less reactive than my husband… so let me be explicitly clear here. Should this problem continue, I will have you removed from your role faster than a Leviathan swims. Because should this matter continue, you’re clearly unfit to keep the students of this school safe. Understood?”

Alaric nods, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Is that a yes, Alaric? Am I clear?” You press, your eyes narrowing at the half-elf as you struggle to control the growing anger inside your own body. Sparks of magic threaten to fly from your hands before you regain control over yourself.

“Yes, Counsellor Ancunin. Crystal.” The headmaster responds, “We will continue our investigations until the matter is resolved.”

You nod but do not say anything further before you exit the headmaster’s office and breeze out of the school to rejoin your husband and son.

Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned.

[vixstarria]

Kinktober Day 1 - Gender Swapped

For every day of the month of October I will be posting a little snippet following prompts listed in this post.

Most of these will not be full fics, but rather short snippets, set-ups, and, in a few cases, copied bits and pieces of fics I have already published.

But, if there is a lot of interest and feedback on any of the snippets, they might just evolve into full fics, so keep that in mind.

A frazzled-looking brunette bust into the Spotted Dick, the tavern Astarion ran with Asmodea, and headed straight for the bar. The purple robes she wore were distinctly familiar, and sat baggy and oversized on her frame.

“Either you just mugged a certain archmage, or this is a walk of shame after an encounter with him,” Astarion commented from behind the bar, tilting his head in curiosity.

“I need a drink,” the woman muttered.

“The latter, than,” said Astarion.

The woman sighed and gave him a resigned but unflinching look. Something about the colour of her hooded eyes, the straight nose and the touch of silver in her hair was all too familiar. And then there was that ridiculous, ever-present earring, of course…

“…Oh. Ohhh..!” Astarion produced, beginning to laugh. “Darling! You must come see this,” he called out to Asmodea, who approached from the other end of the tavern.

“What is- …Gale?!” she exclaimed, recognising the wizard almost immediately, and squinting at him. “A disguise spell..? Since when do you dabble in those?”

“This is why my colleagues advise against taking on sorcerers as students,” Gale began to explain, the cadence of his voice now unmistakable, even if its pitch was higher than ordinary. “I should have listened. A stray surge of wild magic from a young man I was tutoring, has… altered my biology and rendered me of the fairer sex.”

Asmodea chortled as Astarion continued to grin, leaning against a counter.

“It ought be temporary, but I have been stuck with this body for hours!” the wizard complained. “It’s distracting. My… this body's breasts shake with every step I take…”

“You are rather well endowed,” Astarion observed, thoughtfully, now openly staring at Gale’s ample bosom.

“…and I haven’t even been able to relieve myself this whole time,” Gale continued.

“What, why?!” Asmodea exclaimed. “Is the… ‘plumbing’ not connected?”

“It is, I assume,” Gale said, colouring slightly. “But it’s not truly my body, it feels as though I would be infringing on the privacy of another’s.”

“Nonsense,” Asmodea said as Astarion emitted a poorly concealed snort. “You should embrace and explore your femininity!”

As the words left her mouth, Astarion broke into a full laugh, and she followed suit soon after.

“I am glad you find this so funny,” Gale said, grimly.

“No, truly,” Astarion managed through his laughter. “This is a gift you ought to appreciate! Or see it as a learning opportunity. Aren’t you curious..?” He then composed himself, and turned towards Asmodea with a wicked grin. “Perhaps you could assist him with his ‘research’.”

“Wait, just what are you-” Gale tried to cut in.

“Perhaps we both should,” Asmodea said thoughtfully, giving Gale an appraising look.

The wizard swallowed hard as they turned to him, both bearing devilish grins.

My Kinktober masterlist and prompts post

[synergysilhouette]

10 more BG3 headcanons I have (some thirst)

Round 2! Hope you'll forgive me for one of these in particular; I know it was kinda wild. And I should warn you; some of these aren't really headcanons, but things I wish we got during the game. Didn't wanna make another "nitpick" post though since I didn't have enough. Make sure to check out my first 10 headcanons!

Astarion became more faithful if he romanced a cleric/devout Tav--Call me a sap for divine inspiration, but seeing how Astarion mentioned how no god ever answered his prayers throughout the years, I like the idea that a cleric Tav (or at least a Tav with reverence for a god/gods) inspired a bit of religiousness in Astarion; nothing elaborate, but something along the lines of "the god(s) you worship must care about me because they brought you to me, and you saved me"-type thing. I kinda have a similar headcanon for Wyll since he mentioned something similar about gods giving him the cold shoulder, but for some reason, I keep imagining him being more secular, though perhaps he does have a bit more respect for the gods.

2. Wyll and Tav's first child (after Lily) is named after his father--I remember that if you tell him you want to start a family (kinda sucks he's the only guy I can have the dialogue option with, but I get it), that his father would like someone to carry his name. I'm pretty sure he meant the Ravengard name, but I do find it cute if they just said "screw it, we're gonna give our child your exact name." Ulder can be a unisex name...right?

3. Omeluum helps us if we rescued him--This is directly contradictory with canon, but I wanted it so bad. It doesn't feel fair that Omeluum is the most helpful mind-flayer, but there's no option to have him be the mind flayer who assists Tav's team. It'd be a nice alternate option to having the Emperor or turning Orpheus or a member of your team into an MF.

4. Wyll expresses interest in becoming a wizard if Mizora's pact is broken--Perhaps this is due to respecing ALL of my team into wizards based on my gaming style, but I don't put it past Wyll to miss his warlocks abilities, and since he'd wisely not sell his soul to a demon after being free of Mizora and not have the time to go through a whole wizard education, Gale tutors him in their free time, and he eventually becomes an accomplished Bladesinger.

5. Astarion's fed on everybody and (mostly) no one's picked up on it--When Astarion mentions that he'll visit Tav and be careful not to wake them, it kinda makes me feel like he's made his rounds, but isn't gonna mention that since the team didn't trust him when he was outed as a vampire, and telling them that he's already crossed some boundaries would probably get him killed.

6. Tav is on frequent baby duty if romancing Lae'zel (unless githyanki)--This is a very selective headcanon dependant on MY Tav, but I do imagine Lae'zel leaves Xan with Tav whenever she has important duties, though she grows concerned that Tav will coddle them too much (unless they're also githyanki and they're helping her in her war against Vlakith). Otherwise, I could imagine Shadowheart's parents or Lord Ravenguard trying to help babysit.

7. The hyena from the beginning of Act II in the Shadowcursed lands returns and stands by us--I love "Speak with Animals," and I didn't appreciate it until a couple playthroughs in. I love the idea that upon being freed, he joins us in camp and befriends Scratch and the Owlbear cub.

8. Gale and Lae'zel are especially attracted to those with a lot of junk in the trunk--Random, I know, but it is a headcanon. Of course, this means almost nothing when in my mind, all the characters (particularly the men) are built with Rule 34 proportions, but I do love the idea that Lae'zel has a specific lust for thicc people (perhaps it's just a gith thing due to their skinnier body types), and Gale is easily flustered/seduced by someone of that build. I kinda like the idea that everyone in the camp is drawn to that, but Gale is more obviously distracted and Lae'zel is more obviously attracted; Astarion and Shadowheart keep their desires close to the vest so you don't have power over them, while the others are merely polite not to blatantly devour someone cakked up.

(Side note: Man, I wish we had a glute slider like Veilguard had--but a GOOD one.)

9. Gale is blissfully unaware of his (physical) allure--No idea why, but Gale always gave me "hot dad" vibes where youngsters are always drawn to him and attracted to him, and he doesn't understand the lust directed at him. He thinks himself handsome, but not really a magnet. As such, whenever people flock to him, he (sometimes) mistakenly assumes it's due to his magical acumin, being a hero of Baldur's Gate, being a chosen of Mystra, etc. When in reality, it may just be that he's the hot wizard. He always has a full classroom as a professor, in any case. (And this as hilariously ironic because I imagine he's very horny. I have a situation I imagine where he sends an astral projection to Tav in public that is accidentally very explicit.)

10. The Spawn in the Underdark offer a haven from Minthara and the drow--Even if she sides with Tav's good nature, Minthara is evil-leaning, and can go about going to war with one of the biggest drow houses. Given drow ruthlessness and sexism, I do like the idea that if the spawn are sent to the Underdark, whether ruled by Astarion or not, they offer a haven from the horrific nature, and are on the verge of creating a peaceful enclave within the Underdark (and maybe offering a transactional relationship of protection in exchange for blood?)

(Note: Ignore the black coverings; apparently this is a pic from a bug that happened a few years ago.)

Hope you enjoyed these headcanons! Do you have any we share?

[pursuitseternal]

“Dexterity Check First, My Sweet:” finger-licking smut 🔥with Spawn!Astarion for “Bites in the Night” part 9

Astarion x f!reader | E | 3K of finger fucking licking smut

Summary: Flaming Fist soldiers on your heels, caught red-handed trying to steal some food, and your Vampire Rogue has one place in mind for you to hide: Sharess��� Caress. Where better to spend an hour laying low together than a pleasure house… where he can tutor you on the dexterity skills that got you into this mess

CW: Vaginal fingering, finger licking, breast play, anal fingering, generally arrogant Spawn Astarion, Act 3 spoilers if you squint maybe…

Ao3 link | Series on Ao3 | Masterlist

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“Can’t you run any faster?” Astarion hisses at you, eyes narrowed as he glares over his shoulder, leading you down alley after alley in Baldur’s Gate. The clanking of armor still echoes behind you—the Flaming Fist still trailing.

And you, you’re hustling, but it’s harder given your wardrobe. “This was your idea,” you pant, aggravated in reply. “You said ‘Wear a dress for once, darling. No one will suspect us if you look decent for once…’”

His hand shoots out from the shadows, pulling you into a darkened doorway. His chest heaves, lock picks in hand. “I know what I said. It’s true, my sweet. You do look decent for once. It’s not my fault you can’t use those hands for anything subtle and smooth that isn’t my cock.”

He flashes a quick smirk your way before picking open the door you both press against. That smirk that melts your innards and makes you quiver instantaneously.

Turning, you keep an eye out for the soldiers who caught you stealing from the vendors. Of course after weeks in the Shadow-Cursed lands, food and gold were scarce. What little you still had only stretched so far in the City. So, you and your Rogue decided to take a… new course of action. One he swore was foolproof… easy… something he did a thousand times over hundreds of years… And he had insisted you look ‘decent’ in a dress for it.

Which was how you now find yourself squeezed against some alley door, panting, and afraid of being arrested as the soldiers who caught you nicking food from the stands close in.

“Hurry, Astarion,” you elbow him in the shoulder where he crouches beside you. “They’re coming.”

“Darling you can’t rush art,” he sneers in reply.

“It’s not art, it’s crime.”

“Maybe next time, you'll not get us caught then. Maybe you need some lessons on just how to expertly use those fingers…” he pauses, even as the clanking of armor draws even closer. He stands quickly, spinning you both, pinning you hard against the planes of the door as he crushes you against the wood. His mouth devours yours, your eyes filled with nothing but his pale skin and mussy, silver hair. Your every sense is consumed by his taste in your tongue, his scent in your nose, his wiry body bearing down, covering you completely.

That passion, that ardor steals your breath, lost in the sound of his breath in your mouth and the wet working of his lips, his tongue with yours.

So distracted you barely even notice the flurry of guards rush right past you until they have long passed. Barely noticed that he’s hidden you from their sight in his distraction. Kept you safe. Then he breaks, his devious smirk at your arousal only makes you pant harder. “You clever devil,” you rasp, trying to swallow. “Kept us hidden… and clearly you do enjoy this dress.”

“What would you do without me?” he taunts, reaching for the handle of the door, letting it creak open behind your back. “They’ll be back, we need to lay low for an hour or two…” that wicked gleam in his eyes only darkens. “How fortunate that we can hide here…”

You turn, taking a step inside the door. Instantly, you recognize it from your adventures so far. The scent of perfumes and sweat, of alluring flowers and dirty bodies all at once. Thick crimson curtains draped over every wall and door, ready to soften the cries of orgasm and the sounds of sex.

Sharess’ Caress.

“What better place to hide than a pleasure house?” he gives you that feline grin that more than announces his intentions for how to pass an hour or two. “Oh, what a shame we will have to hide away… just the two of us… away from everyone else back at camp…”

“Did I call you clever?” you roll your eyes, despite the way your belly floods with heat. “I mean sly, cunning…”

“And very, very hungry,” he interjects, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you towards the stairs. “Starved practically…”

“How do you know where you’re going?” you hiss from behind.

“You forget so quickly these are my hunting grounds, my nocturnal domains. How fortunate you get me of my own free will during the daytime,” he quirks back at you over his shoulder as he turns down a hall and then another. “You’ve been dancing with a professional,” he smirks, breathing deeply as he draws to a sudden stop outside a door. “But you already knew that, my darling. Already experienced the fruits of my practice on the unworthy…”

“Gods,” you pant, “and you think me worthy?”

“Most worthy, my love,” he chuckles softly, turning the doorknob beside you. “Won’t you come and find out why it’s a pleasure house, my sweet?”

You smile, devious, “Emphasis on the… come?”

“I’m in such a good mood to be here with you, my darling, that even your unrefined wit won’t put me off or… soften… my regard for you,” he giggles, leading you behind the curtain that covers the entryway. Its fabric is thick, a dense sort of velvet, darker than blood.

You stumble into the dark, and instantly those hands… those strong, lithe, dancing hands, catch you. You hear so many other voices in the distance, a cacophony of moans and slaps and screams. You turn, looking for Astarion, an edge of… surprise in your heart. Surprise that warms quickly into a heady fear as he leers at you.

The soft light only makes every angle and cut of his face sharper, his skin almost lustrous, those hands leaving your grip to already begin to tear his tunic from over his head. Earth-shattering. Ruinous. He is beyond handsome.

And he’s yours.

“You can’t stop staring, darling…” he rasps, drawing closer in, closing in around you. The skin of his chest, the way every muscle and vein is familiar to you, it makes you force a swallow. “Not that I'm complaining, of course,” he gives that short burst of giggles to punctuate. “But we really… really must do something about those hands of yours.”

He catches them together in just one palm, his touch cool despite the growing heat that caresses your skin. “Strength doesn’t come from brute force all the time, slashing and twisting…” he breathes. You gasp, moaning suddenly as his other hand has already managed to somehow slink into the hitched hem of your skirt, his touch barely ghosting up your inner thigh. “You needn’t be so gruff and commanding all the time, darling,” he purrs. “Let your fingers find their own way, one by one in that merry dance…”

“Gods,” you groan, as indeed one by one they slip into your folds, sliding in so easily with how drenched you already are for him. He flashes that sideways grin down at you, eyes narrowed as he is savoring the way you shudder at his touch, at the way your mouth hangs open suddenly to feel him pleasuring you. “Please, more,” you sigh, arching back to find something to brace your body against. “I want more inside me, I want you inside me.”

“But I am, darling,” his grin only twists higher, “and this is my lesson for you, so you had better listen and learn.” His hold on your hands tightens, his thumb massaging over their backs, deftly and rhythmically stroking your taught muscles. His legs stride between yours, hips pressing hard against you, making you back until you smack the your knees on some soft furniture. But quicker than breath, he steadies you. Fingers slipping from your folds and your body to unbutton his breeches.

You don’t even need to look to know his cock stands at the ready, and you giggle as he presses it into your waist, so hard you feel its twitching through your gown. “Already?” you tease, feeling a blush sweeping over your cheeks and up your neck.

“Well, you’re going to need something to practice on…” His eyes gaze at you, glazed with desire, that crimson shine almost a bright red as the lights from the candles around you flicker and flame. “And, I will too,” he adds, voice thick in his throat as he takes the ribbons of your blouse in those long, lean fingers. “Something to play with, as an example of course…”

His breath is heavy, each inhale and exhale almost deafens you. He is close but refrains from brushing against you, nothing more than the way his fingers pull those thin laces of bodice, one by one.

Slowly. Painfully deliberate.

His gaze never wavers, doesn’t even have to look to know where to grip, where to touch. Until at last, the panes of your bodice split, your breasts achingly hard to feel the free air, the rush of his heavy breaths caressing them.

You try to catch his mouth, to bring him into a kiss, but he only shoves you back down to your heels. “Tch, tch,” he sucks his teeth at you, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “This isn’t a lesson for your mouth. Your tongue is already so good at sucking and swallowing, my pet.”

Oh, you shudder. His words alone push you to that precipice of need. Not to mention that constant washing sound of the pleasures around you. It makes you whimper to be denied.

“Shh,” he chuckles quietly, one long pointer finger on your lips to tap gently. “Think about how enjoyable it will be to put these skills into practice daily… nightly too…”

Your brow raises, mischief swirling in your belly as you quickly part your lips, drawing that finger between them to suck it hard.

His cock pulses against your belly, his mouth groaning loudly at the warmth and wet you swirl around it.

“Eager and naughty. You belong in this pleasure house, my love,” he growls. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit on the seat behind you, a settee you realize, covered in softest velvet. Your breathing grows rough, every inhale you make is filled with the perfumes of the house, masked heavily by that fresher scent of his skin.

Your mouth waters, his hands rucking up your skirts, clawing around your hips as he settles you on his thighs. He throws the skirts behind you, ensuring he has complete control, a perfect view of your soft-curled mound, your shaking thighs. But he leaves you aching, your pulse pounding as he can feel your folds soaking his skin and throbbing as you grieve the emptiness inside you.

His fingers seem to dance in the air as he reaches for your body, where your breasts hang so exposed. So easy for the taking. Fascinated, hypnotized by their dexterity, you watch as each of his fingers moves, of its own accord, each playing across your skin. His touch is delicate and deliberate.

The muscles of his hands clench, each movement visible as the candlelight caresses that masculine outline. Light warming his pale, pearl-like skin. Shadows following the ridges and trails the veins make over the backs of his hands, weaving gently up his arms.

You can’t resist, bringing your own touch to dance along those protruding blue lines. Mimicking the soft and commanding pressure he makes as he cradles your breasts, one in each hand, fingers twirling and plucking your nipples hardened to pebbles in his masterful touch. You can’t help it, can’t control it as the rhythm of his touch on your breasts alone sends those shivers of pleasure down your spine, your body under his thrall as climax pours through you. Hot and wild, you buck on the limited friction of his thighs, your cum coating that flawless, smooth skin.

And he giggles. With a little extra effort, he tweaks your nipples as you ride out the remaining waves. “Oh my sweet, see what skilled fingers alone can do?” he croons. His hips buck beneath your still-trembling thighs, making his cock jolt where it stands. Little trickles of his seed already leaking from that tight little slit. You want so badly to lick it clean, to quickly shove that hardness deep inside you to cool your burning lust. But you smile, taking it in your hands, not to be outdone by your arrogant, insufferable Rogue.

Plying that same silken yet commanding touch, you sweep a single finger up the trail of his precum, gathering it on your fingertip before slipping it in your mouth. Sucking it clean.

He groans, watching. His hands slide down your sides, holding your hips hard against his thighs. “What a good student you have become,” he praises in his honeyed tones.

You pull your finger from your pursed lips with a resounding pop. Licking the rest of those fingers one by one, you begin tracing just the soft pads of your fingers up and down his twitching shaft.

For hells take you if you weren’t about to stun him senseless with your fingers alone.

You keep your eyes on the motions you make, smiling harder each time his hips buck under your touch, cock twitching and jolting as you beat it in your grip. Maybe it’s the sounds that surround you, the wet slap of flesh, the moans of a hundred paying patrons, but your mind fills with a naughty idea.

Pausing, you clamber between his legs, pressing him wider with your knees. As he has done to you countless times.

“Just what are you doing, my sweet?”

You ignore the question, using a single hand to tug softly on the wrinkled silken skin of his balls. Gods, they feel tight and heavy in your palm already. Driving him closer to his own bursting release with each stroke you make.

“You’ll find out…” you grin innocently, meeting that flaming scarlet gaze of his. His tongue drags over his fangs, hunger lurking behind every clench of his body. The soft pads of your fingers slip further beneath him, following the hard seam of his erection until you brush the pert little hole of his ass.

Astarion hisses, arching his back as you press around it just a bit harder, circling it as he has done to everything on your body a million times.

“Darling…” he groans, raising his hips to let you in more. “Testing your dexterity on all of me, are you?”

You slip your touch inside, feeling him clench as you mimic the way he caresses you. The way he fucks you on those talented, eager fingers of his. You savor the way he growls, head thrown back against the velvet of the settee as you crook inside him deeper. For a moment, you forget all about his cock. Savoring the way you make him shake and quiver around your digits for once. But then, he clenches so hard around your finger deep in his ass, his cock ripples, thickening as you push him further towards the edge. He thrusts over and over into your other fist.

“Hells…” he pants, forcing his head up to meet your smile. “Where in gods names did you think to do that?”

You smile, so innocent and pouting and coy. “You’re not the only one who can read a book, Astarion…”

“Hgnf…” he grabs your wrists, the veins of his arms protruding even more as he flexes, pulling you down to collapse on his chest. “Lesson learned. Now I’ll claim my payment, it’s a brothel after all.”

No resistance is left in your body, too wet and hot and aching for anything other than letting that cool shaft of his cock to pierce deep inside you. And it does, sheathed so tightly in your cunt you cry, begging for more. Your scream could shake the walls, muffled only by those thick curtains.

“That’s right, my darling. Be loud, let them all hear you, hold nothing back like you do for me around the others,” he hisses low in the throat, hands tugging your dress apart all the more. All the better to let your breasts swing free with every unbridled buck of your body.

You groan, so loudly you’re sure you hear the curtains shaking.

And you do, as they pull back to open wide, the clatter of metal armor crashing through the soft slap of flesh. “Flaming Fist,” a cold voice startles you, anouncing. You gasp, clutching your bodice to hide the ample swell of your bosoms, burying your face against his chest as Astarion sits upright.

“What is the meaning of this,” he snaps in disgust and sneers in disdain, that commanding edge of his voice is dominating and cold. “I’ve paid good money for this, and you have no business to intrude on either my time or my pleasure.” He chastises, bracing his arms around you, curving you slightly around his side.

Hiding you.

“I’m sorry sir,” the soldier insists, far more timidly than before. “We’ve been trailing a thief we were tipped off today who would be pinching food stores from the markets today. We suspect she may be hiding here.”

“Get out or pay me the 500 gold I’ve already wasted by spending time speaking with you!” he bellows, gesturing roughly towards the door. “No one here but an angry, wealthy patron and his whore!”

That did it, sending them scattering and clattering as they shut the curtain firmly behind them.

You go still on his lap, a suspicious, scouring look on your face as you meet his arrogant, guilty eyes. “Tipped… off…”

His smirk curls wickedly to one side, shrugging demurely, a single hand splayed on his chest to feign innocence. “How else am I supposed to get you to accompany me here, say… Oh darling, I’d like to take you to a pleasure house so I can loudly fuck you away from prying eyes and listening ears?”

“You’d be surprised just how charismatic you might be if you checked, if you asked nicely…” you grind on his still throbbing cock, “…if you tried saying please.” You lean forward, pressing your hands on his chest to shove him back down. “Perhaps you could benefit from some lessons on asking nicely…”

That handsome face quirks, twisting harder as he smiles at you. “Dexterity check first, my sweet,” he purrs and crooks his finger against your clit. Reminding you just why you’re here.

[smiling--flash]

y kant astarion read: chapter 4

In this chapter: Some new faces stop by the bodega. Astarion and Karlach attend the math course, which gives Karlach some trouble of her own.

---

General summary: After dropping out of school years earlier, Astarion decides to get his GED. There’s one problem.

He’s ‘functionally illiterate’ and needs to take remedial language classes and get a tutor.

And who is that tutor? Why it’s Gale Dekarios, of course.

---

Also, the "Come with me if you want to learn" Drizzt Do'Urden sticker on Astarion's laptop by @twicethekid.

I think the laptop 'brand' should be Zanner after Zanner Toobin.

[mistercrowbar]

The evil thought has been bothering me: Aldiirn, Astarion, and their little bundle of green violence post-game. How does the parenting go with 7K traumatised Spawn in the mix?

It’s very tense and a bit convoluted at times. Aldiirn and Githyanki baby are two of a handful of living persons amongst all these vampire spawn, and given that Aldiirn is also dealing with some issues from detransformation they are both vulnerable. Aldiirn is able to get help from the Gur so that the both of them can blend in without accidentally triggering a feeding instinct in anyone, and for worst case scenarios has a safe room that can be flooded with Daylight and running water. It helps that githyanki hatch at a more capable stage of development than most humanoids but she’s still like, very young and does nooot understand discretion. Someone’s constantly gotta watch her so she doesn’t try to start a fight and maybe she could win a one on one but the last thing a newly settled vampire town needs is a feeding fenzy. It’s easier as she grows, for sure.

Aldiirn is her primary guardian but Astarion, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Leon, Dalyria, Yousen, and some trusted other spawn help in raising her. Drow children are raised by members of the house and not parents so it makes sense to Aldiirn. Astarion is uninvolved at first and more of “fun uncle” once she can hold a knife, Shadowheart and Lae’zel help until spawntown is more settled and visit frequently afterwards, the rest are kinda more like, caretakes/tutors for various subjects.

[scrapsovereign]

Astarion, who is gagged if anyone ever suggests he didn’t actually go to law school. It’s an insult on the same level of asking him how the rat diet is going. The papers of nobility he used to secure his spot in the program? Well, maybe those are fake, but a gentleman never tells.

Astarion, who dramatically pretends he’s jealous of Cazador’s conquests and spawn siblings so his master lavishes ALL of his attention on them to torture him. He couldn’t care less about who his master wines and dines. It’s a game he plays with the miserable wretch so he is left alone to fuck off to the tavern and earn some extra coin by tutoring law students and preparing them for their boards.

Astarion, who breaks in to his old office from time to time to steal the most recent copy of the Code Legal. He marks it up with the myriad crimes he sees Cazador committing as notes in the margins while everyone else is asleep. It isn’t much, but it helps keep him grounded in something real and keeps his mind sharp. He hides it under a floorboard in a forgotten corner of the palace until he’s able to steal away again, furiously jotting down the fresh horrors he’s been witness to.

[punderdome]

The Fine Print: Chapter 5

Summary: Raphael and Tav finally have their wedding night.

CW: 18+, Minors DNI.

Word Count: ~4700

Read on [AO3]

Chapter 5: The Wedding Night

Raphael led her back through the corridors towards the bedrooms.  His pace quickened eagerly, subtly urging Tav to match him.  She struck up more conversation to get him to slow down, lest they actually reach their destination.

“What would you have me do with my days as lady of the house?”  she inquired.  Raphael slowed and turned towards her.

“My darling wife, you may do as you wish with your days.  If you wish to be pampered, I shall see that you are so satisfied,” he answered quickly.  He seemed to be missing the point.

“What if I would like to continue my research?  I’m sure it would be easier to conduct from the Hells, and it would keep me out of trouble.”  Tav wasn’t sure how Raphael would respond to her request for any sort of arcane work.  He probably would prefer it if she lazed around like a prized pet, curled up in his lap while wearing only jewelry.  He has probably entertained this exact thought many times.

Raphael paused for a moment.  His gaze seemed slightly lost, as if he wanted to both agree to her proposal to get her into bed but also take time to consider the impact on himself and his pleasures.

“Well then, my dearest wife, I suggest you begin by learning proper Infernal.”  His answer was only a half answer, and she suspected it was his internal optimization for consideration of her idea and bedroom distance.

“I would like to do so, now that I am the lady of the house.” Tav insisted.  She stopped walking down the corridor and turned to face her dreaded, beloved , husband.  “A proper Infernal lady should be fluent in Devilish and Ancient Infernal, don’t you think?  I can find a tutor.”

“Only a tutor that I have approved,” Raphael asserted.

She had a question that she was too embarrassed to ask while they discussed her contract in the study before, but stalling for time is the best opportunity to ask inane questions.  Tav paused and studied his face, knowing his patience was starting to wane.  “I have a question for you,” she started gingerly, taking extremely long pauses.

“Ask.”  The frustration on Raphael’s face was rapidly expanding, as was his lust for what he knew was coming.

“I translated Astarion’s scars for him.  How bad was my translation?”  Tav had originally translated the Infernal contract on Astarion’s back months prior, explaining what the Rite of Profane Ascension entailed and what sacrifices needed to be made.  It made for grim conversation at Grymforge.

“Do you truly wish to know?” In an instant, her blood ran cold.  What had she overlooked then for Astarion and his former slave master Cazador?  

“What did I miss?” She asked Raphael, dreading what she was about to learn but leaning into the chance to understand.  

“You got many of the aspects of the Rite of Profane Ascension correct, but Astarion did not know many of the finer details.”  Raphael explained.  She nodded for him to continue.  “Your translation of Cazador’s agreement with Mephistopheles correctly deduced that he would consume all seven thousand spawn in body and submit their souls to Cania.  You had grave misunderstandings of the final powers Cazador would gain as Vampire Ascendant.  Astarion wanted to know what he stood to inherit if he were to undertake the Rite himself.”

“Astarion told me that he won a second translation from you in a round of Lanceboard at Sharess’s Caress.”  Raphael’s resulting grin was ravenous.  

“He thought you were intentionally omitting something, so he called me that very same night you provided him with your original work .”  She sighed.  She should have expected Astarion to have a multitude of sketchy deals she wasn’t welcome to know about.  It didn’t make her feelings of embarrassment any easier to swallow.  He had never mentioned to her that he didn’t trust her translation. 

“And what deal did you make with him?” she inquired.

“I would provide all the details of the Rite carved into his flesh in exchange for secrets.  Fifty was the number we negotiated, with more valuable information having a higher price.”  Raphael smiled down at her, and she immediately knew what kinds of secrets he wanted.  Her favorite color was boreal blue.  She preferred silver.  The wedding gifts Raphael presented her were fruits from his contract with Astarion.

“My preferences?” she challenged, hoping to indicate that she wasn’t incredibly stupid, despite the multitude of failings surrounding her Infernal reading comprehension that vehemently suggested the opposite.

“And more.”  Raphael purred back to her.  “I wanted my wife to be comfortable.  Of course he was not above a little light thievery in service, but he was able to negotiate a good price on certain items.”  He raised an eyebrow, waiting to see if she would infer his meaning.

Her eyes rapidly scanned the corridor around them as she fought internally for what Astarion may have stolen from her.  She snapped back to Raphael.  “How many of my clothes did he take?”  The gown she was wearing fit too perfectly to be some sort of coincidence or guessing game.

“Most were returned.  You will find your wardrobe here to be well stocked.”  His voice was calm and casual, but Tav immediately found the implication violating.

“Most?” she demanded.

“Most.” Raphael confirmed.

An absolutely horrifying thought crossed her mind of Astarion stealing her smallclothes and gifting them to Raphael.  Oh Gods, worn or unworn?   She really didn’t want to know but she suspected one was more likely.  Her eyes went wide, and Raphael chuckled.  She knew he could see what she was wrestling with in her mind.  His devilish glee confirmed that she was correct.

A deep abyss of hurt started to emerge in her chest though she tried to conceal it on her face.  Astarion made a deal with Raphael and betrayed her trust by stealing her most intimate things and secrets from her.  They were close friends, sharing vulnerabilities and life experiences.  They shared pains and insecurities, joys and bits of mischief.  Little did she know, he was lurking around her tent waiting to steal and air out her dirty laundry for Raphael.  What else did Astarion tell him?  She was confident that the deal didn’t just end with favorite colors and dirty smallclothes.  How many of her other friends had Raphael seduced into various deals?  Certainly not Wyll or Karlach, they would never have signed with Raphael.  Lae’zel had everything she wanted from Raphael, and Gale wanted nothing to do with him.  Shadowheart?  Jaheira?  Minsc?  Halsin?   The paranoia was giving her nausea.

“That clears up some issues, thank you for the confirmation,” Tav said blandly, trying to hide the dark bruises of betrayal under a thin guise of indifference.

“Shall we continue?” Tav asked, her feelings swirling around her like a hurricane.  Deep and angry.  Chaotic and unpredictable.  Astarion sold her out to Raphael.   As Raphael led them towards the bedrooms her heart started to pound in her chest.

“This door leads to the Boudoir which is Haarlep’s domain,” Raphael explained at the heavily gilded door in front of her. “They entertain various guests on occasion.”  He led her to the next door down the corridor.  

“This is the master’s suite,” Raphael paused quickly.  “This is where I rest, and where you will join me when you are summoned to my bedchambers.”  Tav was swallowing every emotion and trying to suppress them from erupting in the hallway.

Raphael led her to an adjacent door to a fancy room.  “This is the Archduchess’s suite.  It is meant to be your personal sanctuary.  The wardrobes should be filled with garments to your liking.  I suppose you might appreciate a few moments to settle in and relax,” he offered smoothly.  

Tav nodded but said nothing.  She didn’t move a muscle and cast her eyes downward to the tiles on the floor.  She supposed real privacy was something she was never going to have ever again now that she was fucking owned by Raphael.  When she turned to face him again, he had a peculiar look on his face, as though he was trying to read her innermost thoughts.  Gods.  Fuck.  If he was reading her innermost thoughts…   He smoothly pivoted the dying conversation.  “Please accept this ring as an additional wedding gift,” Raphael snapped and a small wooden jewelry box appeared in his hand.  She didn’t even bother looking at it as he started to open the box to show her.

“No.” She asserted blankly, bursting through the doors to her chambers.  She slammed the doors shut behind her and sank to the floor of her new quarters with her back to the door.  Her eyes squeezed shut tightly, and she wondered if she squeezed tightly enough if everything would just go away.  The contract.  The contracts.   Multiple.  Contracts.

Tav, you are a Gods damned idiot , her inner voice rang out.

Tears flowed freely down her face, and she couldn’t stop them.  They froze to her cheek as they fell.  Everything had clearly gone to shit.  One of her closest friends was stalking and spying on her.  She is worthless at research and was recently dumped by the sexy resident archmage of her little crew.  Now she is accidentally married to a fucking devil, most of her companions hate her, and there is no way out.   

And now here she is, preparing to fuck fucking Raphael.  

Raphael was not the person she was supposed to be preparing to fuck on her wedding night.  It should be Gale.  Raphael was supposed to be Gale.  They were supposed to be in Waterdeep, sitting on the balcony in his study overlooking the sea in the evening as the sun set.  Only there was no sea.  There was no evening.  There was never going to be night ever again.  Outside her window there was only the heat and flames of Avernus.

Tav wondered if Raphael truly thought somehow that she was happy with this arrangement.  She started with shock and denial which then spiraled into flooding humiliation that gave way to an academic detachment which was rejected in favor of violation and anger.  All other emotions left exhausted, there was only despair left behind for her.

Tav slowly rose to her feet and surveyed her new chambers.  There was a large four poster bed in the center covered with thick, fluffy pillows and a black comforter with red and gold embroidery in a pattern of roses and birds.  A door to a private bath lay on one of the side walls surrounded by several deep wardrobes.  Everything was as immaculate and luxurious as the rest of the House of Hope.  Broad windows overlooked the bleak horizon, framed by heavy black curtains to provide her the illusion of night if she wished.  

Something was laid neatly on the bed.  As she approached, she realized it was a red silk night robe and a black set of lacy smallclothes that were unlikely to conceal much of anything.

Leave it to Raphael to be so much of a control freak that he selected his wife’s fuck clothes.

She sat down beside her new fuck clothes.  Her mind drifted back to what should have been.  Gale was sweet and romantic.  His romantic lines were cheesy and self-indulgent and long , but they worked, and they were beautiful.

The night before he proposed when they were in his tent, Gale knelt between her thighs and she smiled up at him in love and desire.  He whispered to her  “You are the one that I truly love.  You are everything to me, and I desire to spend my life entirely with you.”

The day after they had become betrothed, Gale had been stricken with some sort of severe illness that even Shadowheart’s magic and a restorative potion failed to cure.  His chest felt tight, and his forehead clammy and feverish.  He was aching to the bone and looking so haggard that he needed an incredible amount of rest and tending.  Tav stayed with him the entire time.  She wiped his face and chest with a perpetually-cold wet cloth to break the fever and served him broth that would have been warmer had it not been served by a worried Tav.  He lay his head in her lap as she stroked his hair back and traced soothing circles on his upper back.  She felt a mild pain in her chest that he was so ill, but still she tried to soothe him gently to sleep.  “My love, be careful that you don’t also succumb to my condition,” he murmured gently.  “Just rest, I’ll take care of you.  I love you,” she said quietly.  She moved to lay behind him, his back pressed into her chest.  She continued to trace his shoulders gently to soothe him to sleep.  When he drifted off into sleep, she moved her arm to rest gently over his waist, her body continuing to cool his fever.  After a long time had passed, she fell asleep holding him gently.

There were no more honeyed romantic words being spoken to her now.  There was no more care and sweetness.  There was no more afterglow.

The ring box had mysteriously found its way into her room.  Fucking Raphael.   It sat unopened on the nightstand.  She tried her best to ignore it.

There was a crack from behind her, and Tav turned to see a younger version of her new husband standing behind her, wearing something that was somehow more revealing than the preselected lace smallclothes laying by her side.  This must be the incubus.

“You must be Haarlep.  Raphael told me about you,” Tav introduced herself with an irritated twist.

The incubus grinned broadly.  “You must be the master’s new pet .”  Her jaw clenched.  The incubus looked her over hungrily.  “Or wife , I suppose.  Aren’t they much the same thing, hmm?”

“What are you doing here?  These are supposed to be the Archduchess’s chambers.”  She was hoping she could point this out and wave them away like Raphael had done with the Archivist, but Haarlep was not to be deterred so easily.

Their body rapidly began to transform from a Raphael-ish form into something that was still a Raphael-ish form but decidedly more feminine.  Tav was stunned.

“Then it is a good thing I have an Archduchess Raphael form,” they grinned, and a high, light purr rumbled through their chest.

Haarlep prowled around her room, picking up and investigating several decorations placed on the furnishings before disinterestedly setting them back down again.  They walked over to her wardrobe and quickly opened it up, rifling through the contents.  Tav observed silently.

“A surprising amount of blue,” they mused.  “Raphael so very much prefers red.”

“I don’t care what Raphael prefers,” Tav deadpanned.  “I like blue.”

“You are a fascinating creature , I cannot wait to play with you when the master allows.”  Their voice was sultry and smooth with a single touch of growling on the word ‘play.’

Haarlep removed a red silk dress with a plunging neckline and high slit up the side from Tav’s wardrobe, showing it to her.  They traced the embroidery on the bodice with a gentle claw.  The stitching was silver with a pattern reminiscent of the smoke from the fires of Avernus.

“If you wear this to dinner tomorrow, I doubt the master will last long enough even to get you to bed.”

“I am not fucking Raphael in a hallway.”

Haarlep’s grin somehow widened even further with sinister glee, showing entirely too many teeth.  “My darling, that’s not what I meant .”  Tav raised an eyebrow but was wary of inquiring further.  This felt too much like some kind of test.  There was no way in Hells that she was trusting the incubus.  Though if what the incubus said was true, she might have just made a new best friend.  Now that Astarion is dead to her.

“You are quite beautiful,” Haarlep complimented her.  “I can see why he won’t shut up about you.”

Tav narrowed her eyes slightly, intrigued but certain that she was dealing with an unreliable source.  “What did he say?”

“It would be simpler to find things he hasn’t said,” the incubus suggested.  The Archduchess form of Raphael adopted their best impression of Raphael himself with their feminine voice.  Smug, self-confident, and a delightful mockery that Tav was sure the master of the house would find undignified.   

“My Little Mouse, such a clever and beautiful creature.”  Haarlep paused for dramatic effect in much the same way the real Raphael would have done.  “My Little Mouse, soon to be a fine Queen of the Hells.  My Beloved Lady, such a tempting treat being slowly seduced by the calls of the infernal sin and temptation.  My Dearest Mouse, please read Infernal to me.”

Tav was surprised to find herself in a fit of laughter, smiling at the delighted incubus.  “Does he always call me his Little Mouse or his Lady or does he bother using my actual name sometimes?”

“It depends on his moods,” Haarlep explained.  “I have been called a great deal of names.  He hasn’t wanted my Archduke Raphael form in a long, long time, since around the time when he met you, I believe.”  Haarlep was sauntering around her room.  They stopped at her bedpost, gripped it firmly in their claws, and rolled their hips upwards in a mock thrust before swinging around the posts in the start of a naughty dance.  “He only wants my Archduchess form now, and he uses your names when we lay together.  How dull.”

Haarlep seductively swung around the post of her bed again.  This time, their leg was lifted high with their bare thigh wrapped around the post and their back seductively arched, pushing their breasts out as far as they could.  They stopped and turned to look back at Tav, holding her gaze.

“ Tavara ,” Haarlep said in a breathy feminine moan, legs still wrapped around the post of her bed.  “ My Little Mouse .” Another breathy moan followed it and an exaggerated thrust.  “It gets quite old, but he never seems to tire of it.”

Tav was dumbstruck.  “He wanted you to be me?”  Haarlep stopped trying to 'make love' to the post of her bed.

“You innocent little rodent,” Haarlep chuckled and their smile became more of a smug sneer.  “He has had you in every story he can imagine.  You can’t imagine the lines we’ve recited together.”

Gods.

“He has so many favorites, but there is something he loves to murmur to us right after he finishes inside of us.”  She didn’t want to know.  She didn’t want to know.  She didn’t want to know.  “Do you want to hear it?” Haarlep purred.

“Fuck no.”   She knew regardless of what she answered the incubus was going to tell her what Raphael was like when he came.  While she also knew she was likely about to experience this set of noises firsthand, she also hoped that lightning bolts would somehow strike Raphael down from the clouds of Avernus, so his orgasm noises would no longer be a point of discussion.

“You are the only one I truly desire.  You are everything to me, and I will spend eternity with you.”   Haarlep’s voice had slipped back into Raphael’s and the entire statement was much less lewd than she expected.

It could have been worse.

“He loves me to play pretend with him.  There was one scenario in particular that caught his fancy several tendays ago, do you want to hear it?”  Haarlep’s tail swished behind them eagerly, excited by the idea of sharing their master’s secrets.

“No.”  Her voice was insistently, but the incubus continued to grin.  “Fine,”   Tav relented.  She buried her face in her hands.  She needed to hear it but didn’t want to hear it.

“He had a strange favorite for a short while.  It was a scenario that he made me act out with him, and I’m sure you know he loves his rehearsals to make the actors ready for their performances.”

“Gods above, what sick things did he have you do while you pretended to be me?” Tav demanded.

“It was quite simple, you see, when he lay with me.  He wanted to be on top, which until recently was a very unusual request.”  Haarlep trailed off, but Tav was incensed to know the rest of the story.  Of course the incubus was going to go straight to the sex part and ignore anything other than fucking.

“What else did he do to you while he pretended that you were me?” Tav insisted again.  She pushed down a feeling of disgust.  Today really had to be the worst day of her life, easily eclipsing the time she was stabbed to death by Hook Horrors and revivified back prematurely and still in peril only to be subjected to a second demise caused by additional Hook Horror stabbing.

“He comforted you, my Little Mouse.  He had me cry on his shoulder oh so many times before he promised to take care of me forever, and then we lay together.”  Haarlep’s voice rose to a high pitch, pretending to be a damsel in distress.  Tav wondered if that damsel was exactly what Raphael felt she was.

“Why was I crying?” Tav demanded.

“Someone had died , Tavara.  Raphael was there to make sure that you were alright and not lonely.”

“Who?”  Tav’s voice raised in anger.  “Who died?” she demanded.  She already suspected she knew the answer.

“I don’t know,” Haarlep taunted.  “Some sort of wizard.”

“What the actual fuck,” Tav demanded.  Again, the incubus seemed to take her words as a request for more bedroom-specific information rather than offering the broader context..

Haarlep laid down on the other side of her bed.  “I wouldn’t worry about the actual fuck,” they clarified.  “If it is anything like he rehearsed, he probably won’t last for more than a few thrusts.  That is how excited you make him.”

Tav buried her face in her hands again.  This really couldn’t be happening.  

“Who was that wizard?  Golly?  Gaul?  Gull? ”  Haarlep attempted half-heartedly.  

“Gale,” Tav responded dryly.

“That’s the one!”  Haarlep exclaimed with glee.

“Gale and I were betrothed once,”  Tav explained.

“That explains it!” Haarlep stood up on her bed before quickly jumping into the air and flopping gleefully on their back on Tav’s mattress.  “It was only maybe two tendays at most of pretending to feel that sorrow for the untimely demise of your wizard.  Do not worry, Little Wife,  I cried so much at his loss.”

“So did I,” Tav answered directly.  Haarlep crawled over across her bed, their grin deep.

“Then I guess that is something we both share, in addition to our master’s bed.”  There was a quick wink before Haarlep disappeared in a puff of smoke and embers.

Fuck.  

FUCK!

Tav curled her legs in towards her face and cried.  More tears.  More ice.

Eventually, she heard a knock at the door to her chamber.  “Go away!” she yelled through the door.

“My Lady, the master of the house has requested that you join him in his chambers this evening,” a maid responded.

Tav groaned and looked again at the gifted lingerie, slightly rumpled from Haarlep playing on her bed.  There really wasn’t going to be any getting out of this one.

“Very well,” she responded, letting out a big sigh. 

Tav let down the Trobairitz knot, and waves of brunette curls cascaded down her back.  She set the silver bracelet on the nightstand next to the ring box.  She washed her face with warm water to remove the lingering kohl from her eyes in which dried and frozen tears had traced dark, jagged lines down her cheeks.  She removed her gown and let it fall into a crumpled heap on the floor below her.  She donned the lace lingerie and looked at herself in the mirror.  Her nipples were visible through the holes in the lace.  The bottoms also covered up very little of her sex.  The patches of glimmering white scales on her chest, inner thighs, and abdomen were on full display, shimmering in the light from the windows.

She quickly covered up with the red silk robe, which went down to her mid thigh.  She felt strangely bashful, never having had a problem being naked in front of others before.

Tav left her quarters and walked to the master’s suite next door.  She placed three sharp knocks on the door.

“Dear wife, please do come in.”  The lust in Raphael’s voice was obvious even through the door.  She entered.

Her room was already spacious and luxurious, but Raphael’s suite was at least twice as large.  Thick curtains were drawn in every window, and the room was bathed in the light of several dozen candles.  Beams of reddish Avernus light peeked out from underneath the curtains.  A large ornate canopy bed sat at the center of the room, made up with deep red silk sheets and curtains.  Two goblets and another bottle of red wine lay waiting on one of the nightstands.

The master of the house rose from a settee on the right side of the room, and moved to greet her.  He was still in his cambion form but shirtless, wearing loose black silk lounging pants.  Tav was surprised to see that Raphael had decided not to wear the Crown of Karsus while they consummated their marriage.

Tav walked towards him and stopped at the center of the room.  Raphael approached her slowly, like she was a skittish animal, staying a respectable arm's length away.  His vision roamed her form, stopping briefly at the sash on her robe.

“You are so beautiful, my wife.”  He raised a hand to her face, cupping her cheek gently.  He smoothed his thumb over her cheekbone, careful not to scratch her with his claws.  His thumb ran lightly across her lower lip, and he swallowed hard.  Tav passively looked up at him, gazing into his eyes.  Everything contained within them was pure, undiluted lust.

Raphael pulled her into his arms.  He lowered his face towards hers and entwined his right hand in her hair, leaning down to accommodate her much smaller form.  His lips met hers with a needy, demanding kiss.  His left hand effortlessly undid the tie on her robe, letting it fall open before his hand came to rest on her hip.  Tav closed her eyes and returned the fervor in his kiss, tentatively resting her arms around his neck.  She pulled him in gently before breaking the kiss, stepping backwards.  A low growl rumbled in Raphael’s chest as she put space between them, his hand still running through her hair.

His gaze upon her could have burned even more holes into the lace of the fuck clothes he selected for her.  His erection was straining his lounging pants and the look on his face was entitled and hungry.

The violations of her privacy.  The betrayal of her friends.  His fucking murder fantasies.   His manipulation and surprise proposal.  Everything weighed too heavily within her mind to allow for lust or arousal or even pretending.  

“I am going to sleep.  Goodnight, husband,” she said firmly.  She let the robe fall from her shoulders, walked to the far side of the bed and climbed under the covers.

Raphael stood there watching her, stunned.  She turned away from him to lay on her side, so she wouldn’t have to face his gaze or his commentary.  She just closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

After a few moments, Raphael crawled into the bed next to her.  He maneuvered so that his chest pressed warmly against her back.�� His large, clawed hand traced gently down her shoulder and down her side, running over her curves and the hems of the lingerie.  His hand eventually came to rest on her stomach.  His wing gently engulfed them both, and his tail found a sleeping spot curled around her thigh.

There was a quiet snap and the room went completely dark.  Tav felt a whisper in her ear.  “Goodnight, wife.”

She drifted off to sleep.

[shewhowas39]

rating: Explicit pairing: Astarion x June/Female OC fic summary: It's 3 years after the Netherbrain's defeat, and Gale has invited everyone to his tower in Waterdeep to celebrate Liars' Night. Everyone's in costume! Astarion dresses as a professor in hopes of wooing his wizard girlfriend, but June's princess costume is doing something to him, too. (Sexy costume roleplay in hte library!) content warnings: costume roleplay, pretend student/teacher, light dom/sub, switchy sex, orgasm denial, oral sex, vaginal fingering, piv sex, very light restraint play

A/N: this is my response to a prompt for @thekindredcollective's Fall in Faerun event! it's also the fic i promised to celebrate my fic Juniper & Starlight reaching 200 kudos. and oh my god i had so much fun with it, guys! please enjoy!

***

PREVIEW

The vampire can barely speak now. His eyes are closed. His head rolls from one side to the other against the bookshelves. Most of what he murmurs is nonsense, mixed with the occasional “yes” and “good” and even a single “please.”

But then, just when June knows he’s nearing the peak of his climax, he makes a crucial mistake. He forgets the game. 

“Oh…Oh, June…”

June comes off of him with a soft pop and drops her hands away from his sensitive skin with a suddenness that makes Astarion sob in frustration. 

“W-Why?” he whines as June pushes to her feet and takes a step back from him. 

“I think you forget your place, Professor,” she says. 

Astarion’s glasses are askew as he stares at her, clearly confused for a moment. But June sees the moment when understanding hits him. Their eyes meet for a moment of silent agreement, a quiet check in to make sure both parties are willing to continue this little scene. A thrill of excitement shoots through June when Astarion nods his consent. 

“You may be my tutor, but I’m still a princess,” she says, holding her head high in her best attempt at pretending to be haughty. She thinks the effect is probably somewhat lessons by the fact that Astarion has already messed up her hair and knocked her crown sideways on her head while she was sucking his cock. “You gotta address me as such.”

“I…I”m sorry,” Astarion says, adjusting his glasses. He still seems to be struggling to speak, and June is, of course, a little smug about that.

“Try that again,” she says, tapping her foot impatiently. 

He swallows. “I’m sorry, your grace.” 

[munsonbrackets]

Tutor Astarion

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/shorts/lHIfng6qd90 IDK why this makes me feel something, but I’m not mad about it.

Like imagine being some shitstain of a student (on purpose lowkey) and Astarion having to tutor you because he’s the best in the class, which of course he is considering he is a fucking elf. Like why wouldn’t he understand Elvish and Espruar?

And at first, you were genuinely trying to appease him. Every teacher you have ever had has told you that your pronunciation is remarkable, no matter what script you spoke. Really, your accent might actually just be the only thing preventing you from failing this class. And you might also not be failing because Astarion, top of the class (fucking showoff), is tutoring you.

Truly, they could have given you anyone else, even Halsin tried to volunteer (but he was quickly shut down by the teacher). No. Your dear teacher decided to kill two birds with one stone in a very simple manner. By teaching them how to throw. Astarion seemed to severely dislike teaching others what he had so simply been raised with and you were going to probably fail this class.

And at first, you hated it as much as he did. The sneery remarks that he made, as though he was mad at your parents for not teaching you something as simple as Espruar, you would be quick to respond in an indifferent snide comment in infernal. A language that he was, funny enough, not familiar with. Which just seemed to frustrate him even further. 

But then he corrected you, he was right with his correction, but there was still something in that snappy tone and sneering face that made your heart skip a beat.

The assignment was simple, you thought. Send a letter designated to your teacher. The letters' contents could be a memory, a short trip or a fun story you had come up with. And while you were supposed to have said ‘aerister’, a teacher, instead you accidentally said ‘ageas’, a guard.

- - -

Astarion looked at you from underneath a quirked brow and a slightly open mouth as if to ponder if you had finally gone mad or maybe to silently say ‘are you stupid?’, which obviously weren’t the words that came out of his mouth. “You wish to send this letter to your guard?”

You looked back at him with the same sneer, but also intense confusion. Did ageas mean guard? You swore you remembered it meant teacher… Astarion made no effort to tell you what ‘teacher’ was, so you spoke up instead “Obviously not! I know that ageas means guard! What I meant to say was-” You furiously scrolled a couple pages in your dictionary, trying to remember what ‘teacher’ was in Elduran, “‘aethus’.”

Astarion’s face dropped into a plain old sneer, without the look of your stupidity in his mind, and you felt a shit eating grin spread across your face. You were right, you had definitely been right-

“The word you’re looking for is ‘aerister’.” He sneers out, obvious pronunciation when he says it, so that you might repeat it. But there isn’t a moment for you to speak before Astarion snickers and speaks in a playfully condescending tone- 

“Unless you wish to send this letter to a male harper, which I won’t shame you for, it just simply isn’t the assignment.”

And you feel your heart thump. One hard heartbeat that makes all of the air in your lungs metaphorically rip out of your body, makes a tingle shimmy itself up your spine to make all of your hairs stand on edge, makes your heart feel like it has beat its last.

You could feel the muscles around your eyes spasm in small, practically unnoticeable, twitches as you quickly blurt out- 

“Aerister! Anyways, are we done now?”

Before you allow Astarion to sneer something back, you start throwing your pens into their respective places and leave quicker than you ever have. You only feel the heat of embarrassment creep up your neck after you are fully out of view of his gaze. With an exit like that, he must be just feeling…something? You didn’t feel like worrying about it and you head down the hall, heading home to figure out your own thoughts before you worry about his.

[proffbon]

OC Tag Game, Saphrin

Thank you @muwitch for the tag!

I decided to go with Saphrin instead of my more recent OCs because I have more info on him

Tagging @choccy-zefirka, @lemonlilactea and @herrshepard but no pressure.

General 

Name: Saphrin of House T'sael (doesn't use the House name anymore);

Alias: None;

Gender: Male;

Age: 59 (baby 🥺🤏);

Spoken language: Common, Elvish, Drow;

Sexual orientation: Homosexual;

Occupation: Priest of Eilistraee;

Favorite…

Color: Blue;

Entertainment: He likes sappy romance novels. The ones with all the drama and romance and soulmates and great love confessions but doesn't care for smut;

Pastime: Dancing, checking and fixing his equipment and playing the lyre;

Food: He generally eats whatever but he misses fried rothe while he's topside;

Drink: Really bad mushroom moonshine;

Have they…

Passed university: Drow University I guess lol. He had a full noble education at the Military Academy;

Had sex: Yes;

Had sex in public: Is in the middle of a (presumably) empty graveyard "in public"?;

Got tattoos: Had Eilistraee's holy symbol tattooed unto his throat (the other priestesses said that wasn't necessary but he REALLY wanted to show his devotion);

Got piercings: No;

Got scarred: Has various battle scars from years in the military, some mostly faded scars on his back from being lashed as a kid, a small stab scar on his upper arm from being assaulted by a Drow Inquisitor, and fresh light scars on his legs and arms from performing the Sword Dance on Phalar Aluve;

Had a broken heart: Had to kill someone who he grew to love and admire;

Are they…

A cuddler: Yes, but unknowingly. He mostly trances, so he usually falls asleep by accident and finds himself cuddled up to someone (Astarion);

Scared easily: Not at all. Startled maybe, but not scared. But even startled he still acts out in a way he was trained in the military;

Jealous easily: No, but not from a lot of trust in the partner but from his own low self-esteem. If someone he loves is spending more time with someone else Saphrin just figures he's not a great company;

Trustworthy: Absolutely, but doesn't believe himself to be such (see "Had to kill someone he loved");

Family

Siblings: Six older sisters, technically were in charge of raising him but most ignored or hated him and thus he was mostly raised by tutors and servants;

Parents: Mother is the Matron of the House, didn't raise him, they mostly interacted in official settings. Doesn't know who his father is because by the time he started wondering that the House had no Patron and it wasn't his place to ask;

Children: No;

Pets: Scratch and the Owlbear Cub;

[lunabo17]

Fireflies

Pairing: Bloodweave

Rating: Explicit

Astarion believes he isn't good enough for Gale. Gale believes he isn't good enough for Astarion. They truly try to not allow desire to draw them together, but fail miserably.

No beta; we die like Cazador

Warning: Trying a new writing style, jumping between both POVs of the characters.

--

Astarion, to his utter surprise and absolute despair, found Gale charming. True, in the beginning, he had hated the wizard's constant talking, and honestly wondered how anyone could hold the sheer amount of useless information that came out of Gale's mouth in one's head constantly. The man became excited at nearly everything! Useful herbs was one thing, but the meaning of bloody daisies was a completely unnecessary lecture he was not prepared for. But then the wizard had done little things for him, such as admit softly he suspected Astarion's vampirism when he had tried to take a little nibble, but wouldn't tell a soul (though they found out later), or ask the elf how he was doing, or sharing books with him, or promise to kill Cazador. With each small act, with each small smile or gentle touch, Astarion began to yearn.

Gale, on the other hand, quickly recognized that Astarion was quite a handsome elf. He, of course, had his suspicions from the start that the other was a vampire, what with the extreme pallor, to the lovely ruby eyes, and quite sharp teeth, why, the elf was a clear example of vampirism! The only slight problem with the theory was that the elf walked in the sun. On the other hand, Gale had been surprised a few times in his life (unfortunately), so he was entirely fascinated that he was right, but the vampire wasn't affected by the sun. Quite a boon, really, because watching the elf enjoy their jaunts in daylight was a delight. Astarion was quite quick on his feet, quite strong after a few good feedings, which sadly Gale could not help with.

But Astarion felt he wasn't good enough for Gale. The man had slept with a goddess because he had such talent that Mystra herself had tutored him! Of course, the elf could go on for a while how even though she was a goddess, she was an utter bitch for treating Gale the way she did. The human was handsome, intelligent, skilled (despite his unstable Orb and the tadpoles in their heads), and caring. When they killed the Absolute, without Gale killing himself, obviously, they would find a way to remove the Orb, and Gale would be back to his old, archmage self. Even with the Orb, the way the man wrapped himself in magic so simply, like an afterthought, was a wonder. And they talked a lot, Astarion's walls breaking as Gale quietly prodded him with questions on his well-being, gentle honey eyes studying him after fights to make sure he was all right; it became natural to flirt with the wizard, to seek protection from someone steadily regaining power. Except Gale admitted he couldn't please Astarion with the bomb in his chest, nor did he wish for a quick 'dalliance,' as the human put it. That should have been the near end. It wasn't. Astarion was a broken thing, would remain in Cazador's control if they didn't end him. He had done many things he wasn't proud of, a creature of darkness.

Gale, however, felt he wasn't good enough for Astarion. Though it took some coaxing to discover, the elf was quite smart, and not just because if the witty retorts he seemed to always have on the tip of his tongue. When the wizard began to share his books with Astarion, they began to have thoughtful conversations on various topics, such as various magical theories, technology, to even matters of the heart. True, he was not entirely pleased when he received quite a few verbal lashings with his dealings with Mystra, but it did make him see he was quite foolish to simply throw his life away; he had faith in his companions, and his power was returning. Then, after some quiet admissions, he discovered Astarion did have a soft side, often hidden beneath the harder mask he wore to appear tough and unaffected. The elf hated the idea of others being treated as mere objects, and often rallied others to fight for themselves. Of course, there was also the fact the vampire was handsome, and quite adept at seduction, putting Gale's fumbling flirtations to absolute shame...well, it was becoming harder to resist his charm. But what was Gale, but a former archmage and Chosen? Why, he simply sounded like a know-it-all most of the time!

They had paused on the road to Baldur's Gate to rest for a bit. Thankfully, this evening, they didn't have any surprises, such as githyanki suddenly attacking them, or their 'Guardian' calling for their aide. Astarion admitted he was growing rather tired of constantly fighting. It didn't help matters that the closer they drew to the Gate, the closer he would be to Cazador. He wanted to finish the fight, to end Cazador one way or the other. He had to be free, and then...well. He supposed he could join Gale in Waterdeep. The man had offered, and that meant...meant he could stay with him longer. Hells, he really had fallen for that damned wizard. It couldn't have been Halsin instead, someone who enjoyed the company of many, and seemed to have no qualms to bed a few of their companions. It had to be the gentle wizard, that patiently showed him how to channel the Weave, or that threatened to punch that foul woman at Moonrise Towers. It had to be Gale. With a huff, he asked the others where the wizard had wandered to, and was redirected to a stream nearby. Grumbling, he followed, and then his breath would have caught in his throat had he still breathed.

Gale had wanted to simply wanted to wash the grime off of him. He could let Wyll cook the evening meal just once, though the devil wasn't quite as skilled as him in culinary matters. Ah, but there was his hubris again! Really, his skills mostly came from his mother, and her collection of cookbooks. Without her guidance, surely he would be as inept as...well, he could forgive Astarion for his lack of knowledge. There really was no need to cook when one needed blood, and couldn't taste food. Yet it did bring about his thoughts and wishes to return to Waterdeep, to hug his mother tight, to show Astarion his home, to somehow help or even cure him with his vampirism. He knew he was in love, had suspected for a while. It felt so quick, given his long pining for his former lover. It felt...real. Mystra had always seemed to...indulge him, like a mother with a child, a rather disturbing image in his mind. But unlike a mother that would correct a child when they erred, she had disappeared, and left him to suffer. That wasn't love! He would return to Waterdeep, and he would help his friends.

Carefully, Gale folded his clothes on a nearby rock, before slipping into the cool river, cleaning himself in a perfunctory manner, while his thoughts began straying to the future, and what he would need to make his home comfortable, as well as the many things he would need to research. He dried himself with a towel, but didn't quite feel ready to return, so he slipped into his camp clothes, then sat down near the river, finding it's song soothing. It was then he noticed the fireflies beginning to dance in the air, and a smile came to his face.

That was when Astarion had approached, and seen the wizard lift his hand to a firefly near him, a smile on Gale's face, as if he had been given a gift. The vampire faltered in his steps. All of them, and rightfully so, had been tense on their journey, but it appeared to have washed away in this moment. Gale almost seemed younger. His hair, now longer, fell around his face in ringlets. Suddenly, Astarion knew that even if he wasn't good enough for Gale, it didn't matter. He wanted him. He needed him.

"Darling?" He said, purposely making some noise in hopes he wouldn't startle. If he thought Gale was smiling before, now he was positively beaming when he saw the elf. The joy on the man's face made Astarion's chest tighten.

"Astarion! Come look at the fireflies with me!" Gale said. He hadn't told the vampire where he was going, the other lost in a book pilfered from his stash. He had been certain the elf would find him if he wanted, and he was happy to be correct.

The vampire sat down beside him, reminding them both of the night near Moonrise, where Gale had created a beautiful image in the darkened lands, showing Astarion much more than his favorite time of night. He had showed him a part of his home in Waterdeep, and then had taken him to the Astral plane, something he thought he would only show a lover. Instead, hand cradled in one of Astarion's, one on the vampire's shoulder, they had danced, a simple waltz, but a moment that felt nearly as intimate as physical pleasure.

"They're beautiful," Astarion said, softly.

"Aren't they? Like little stars, but quick to disappear, but just as quick to reappear."

"Gale?"

"Hmm?" The wizard turned a little, perplexed. "Is something the matter?"

Astarion paused a moment, to study the other man, the way his head tilted in confusion, the slight furrow between his brows. The elf moved closer, leaning in, and he heard the inhale when his intentions became clear. Gale closed the gap, their lips touching, first in a quick, chaste kiss, then again. The third kiss, Astarion ran his tongue against Gale's lips, a request.

The wizard felt heat pool downwards, wondered for a moment how well a vampire could smell, which was utterly foolish, since he knew a vampire and elf both had keen senses. Mostly likely, even the barest of arousal would be clear, and he rather found himself uncaring. His lips parted to allow their tongues to explore, to shudder as his pleasure began to rise even more. He tried to stifle a moan, but was unsuccessful.

Astarion finally broke the kiss, knowing the human needed to breath. Instead, he kissed Gale's jaw, then downwards, following the lines of the Orb, tracing them with his tongue.

"You deserve so much better," he heard Gale whisper. It made him pause.

"How can there be anyone better than you?" Astarion pulled back a little so they could look at each other. He couldn't believe Gale thought such things. "You wield magic as if it were a work of art, simple as breathing. You're kind, smart, handsome..."

"You think me handsome?" Gale colored, a little surprised by Astarion. Was the vampire teasing him? "You flatter me, but you are a work of art, as lovely as any sculpture chiseled by a master. You're strong, and I don't mean just physically, though I have noticed regular feedings has increased your strength. I mean how you've survived everything, and keep fighting. Now, don't argue with me. The others agree."

Astarion shook his head, a small, but real smile on his face. "I suppose we shall simply continue to wax poetic about each other. As much as I believe you deserve better, I can't help wish..." The vampire flushed a little, allowing the barest hint of pink to appear on his face.

Gale's mouth fell open a little to see such a reaction. He had seen the elf flustered before, but never about matters of heart. "What is it you wish, my love?" The term of endearment rolled off his tongue easily, and he did feel a rush of embarrassment, but didn't pull away. The vampire's eyes had widened, but he didn't move.

"I am not good with confessions, though I imagine you're quite aware of that. Despite my better judgement, I wish to spend eternity with you."

"Then we are in agreement. Astarion..."

They kissed again, once more chaste. Astarion whispered in his ear, "let us move to our tents. I don't wish to have someone stumble upon us." Gale nodded in agreement, even as he was sure he looked more like a cherry.

Astarion helped the the wizard to stand, then kept a hold of Gale's hand as they walked. With a simple wave of his hand, the human had several mage hands carrying his robes, following them back to the camp. They had both made it a habit to set their tents a little further away from their companions, since they had occasionally discussed topics late into the night, causing the others quite a bit of annoyance.

"Let's use my tent, darling. I don't wish to sully any of your books."

"Y-yes! That sounds like an excellent suggestion!"

"Do I have you flustered already?" Astarion asked, pulling the wizard into his tent. They both removed their shoes as they moved in. "We've just begun."

Gale took a breath. "I admit it has been quite some time since I've had any physical pleasure with another. Before Mystra, it was more hands and mouth, fumblings as young teens do. I was far more focused on learning than sex. Then, after Mystra took me as her pupil...well. Let us just say I may disappoint you a little."

"I understand. This...this is the first time in nearly two hundred years I'm seeking pleasure for myself."

"What?! Surely not! Why, I know several of our fine companions have glanced with longing in your direction, not that I...ah, jealously noticed." Gale gave an embarrassed laugh.

Rolling his eyes, Astarion pinched Gale's neck, earning a small yelp of surprise more than pain. "Do you doubt me, then? Of course, several have approached me, and it was tempting, to be sure. I wished to explore pleasures of the flesh without the taint of Cazador in my mind. But that is besides the point. I've seen others approach you as well, and after the Orb was stabilized."

"Forgive me for my callous comment. I didn't mean to imply you were lying to me. I am simply surprised you would patiently wait for...me."

"And didn't you wait patiently for me? Jealously, might I add."

"I fear you are entirely correct on both points. We've been rather foolish, haven't we?"

Instead of a verbal response, Astarion stepped closer, hands tracing Gale's body underneath his camp clothes. He carefully and slowly helped his wizard remove his tunic, the damned purple monstrosity he planned to either burn or alter drastically. The lifeless thing hardly did the man any favours.

Now, he could see the lovely, flushed body of the man. When they had first begun their journey, he had seen how the human was a bit underweight and exhausted, dark circles under his eyes. Each battle had left the human dazed and tired, nearly falling asleep on his feet. It had taken a little bit of coaxing to get him to eat a bit at each meal, his appetite dulled despite malnourishment. Later, they knew it was from the whole Orb debacle. Slowly, as his strength returned, he began to eat more.

He had expected the wizard to be entirely soft underneath, but Gale often used his whole body when casting magic. He was also quite good with his quarterstaff and, surprisingly, with a bow. Despite the muscles gained from this, as well as their travels, his wizard had gained a bit of weight around his stomach, and it pleased him, his hands tracing the swell of his belly before moving upwards, through the hair on his chest, then tracing a nipple with a light caress.

Gale gasped, unable to stop the shudder as Astarion touched him. He would have been embarrassed to be studied so intently if he couldn't see how intent the vampire was, how his eyes dilated at the sight of him. With a huff, he tugged at Astarion's shirt, intent to even the playing field. He received a chuckle for his efforts, before the vampire removed his shirt, tossing it aside. Here, seeing the lovely alabaster skin revealed to him, he hesitated, pulling his fingers back before he could touch skin.

"May I touch you?" Gale asked softly. Again, he saw the startled reaction, Astarion's eyes widening.

"I imagine it will be difficult to have any sex without touching, darling."

"You are correct, but I need not touch you without your guidance. You can, in fact, order me as you see fit."

"That's a dangerous thing to say, Gale," Astarion rasped.

"Is it? I enjoy a bit of danger. It gets the blood...moving."

"Fuck...we'll explore that another time. Right now, you may touch me."

"And you'll tell me if something upsets you?"

"Gale..." Astarion warned.

The wizard took that as a sign. Gently, he touched the cool skin, only warmed by the blood of others. With little thought, he warmed his hands further, and Astarion gave a small gasp, leaning into the touch. The vampire truly was lovely, sharp lines, and hard muscles. He looked healthier, too, more color to his pale skin with various members of their party offering blood. How he wished he could feed him! Perhaps once the Orb was removed, Astarion could finally taste him? Would it be instantaneously, or would it take some time?

"I can see you thinking."

Gale laughed. "Am I ever not?"

"Let's see what we can do to fix that."

Astarion pressed his body close, delighting in the feel of the warm body, but even more pleased to feel their hard cocks pressed against each other. His fingers pressed harder into Gale's back, moving downwards, hands slipping underneath the pants to massage the human's taunt buttocks. Their was a hitch in the wizard's breath, before his breathing quickened further.

"I should...I'm going to embarrass myself," Gale whispered.

The vampire realized he was the first to take this man after quite a long time. Suddenly, he absolutely needed to see it, to watch Gale fall apart entirely before he took him, brought him so much pleasure he cried out in pleasure. Barely breaking their touch, he practically wrestled the man onto the bedroll, before yanking the human's pants down. He had to bite his lips at the sight before him, Gale's hair fanned around him, his chest and face flushed with blood, his hard cock leaking against his belly.

Gale laughed, a little self-conscious, feeling he was being studied like a tasty treat. He shifted, fighting the urge to cover himself. "You...please..."

Astarion stood to remove the remainder of his own clothes, made only a little awkward as he couldn't take his eyes off the man.

"Oh gods..." Gale asked, his eyes trailing down to the vampire's length. "How the bloody hells did you hide that in your clothes?"

"Practice, my sweet. Do you want it in you?" Astarion knelt down, a smirk on his face. "Did you want to feel how it stretches you, pushes in far deeper than you've probably ever felt before?" His fingers barely touched Gale's cock before the wizard gave a shout, coming at the touch. It was beautiful, watching him throw his head back, muscles tensing, as thick ropes of spend copiously shot onto his stomach.

"Fuck!" Gale spat, covering his eyes. He knew this was going to happen, already worked up from the kisses and touching. It had been so long since anyone had touched him physically, and then the sight of Astarion's cock, and the filth falling from the elf's mouth...

"Arms down, Gale."

"I would rather pretend this didn't happen, if you don't mind," he retorted.

"I would rather see it again."

Astarion knew he would be panting at the sight if he breathed, Gale finally lowering his arms away from his face. Ecstasy suited him, his pupils blown so wide to leave the barest hint of honey, sweat trickling along his body. Despite his clear embarrassment, he spread his legs, and the vampire felt his restraint fully snap. He was on the human in a second, prying those plump lips open to thrust a tongue inside, swallowing the gasps and moans of the man beneath him. He pulled back enough so he could swipe his fingers through some of the mess on Gale's belly, before shoving the spend into his mouth. They both moaned. Gale tasted of musk, books, brandy, and spices, with just a hint of the acrid taste of the Orb.

"Fuck, Astarion..."

"We're getting there," Astarion said, voice pitched low, searching his packs for oil. "Do you wish me to take you, or do you wish to take me? I'm aware my size is...on the larger side. Most are quite wary to have me penetrate them."

"After you teased me earlier?"

"Gale, I'm serious."

"I know," Gale said, stroking the vampire's cheek. "I want it. I want to feel you fuck me. I want to feel this for days, to have a reminder each time I move or sit that you claimed me."

"Shit! You'll be the death of me."

Despite the slight twinge, Gale lifted one of his legs as an invitation, one Astarion took easily, easing the leg onto his shoulder. He had never felt so open before, so exposed. He clenched at the furs beneath him, breath quickening. Avidly, he watched as Astarion opened the vial with his teeth, dumping the contents onto his fingers. Gently, the elf brought the fingers to his hole, simply rubbing circles, and a strangled sound came from Gale's lips.

"I...I hope you...oh...don't share how...utterly pathetic I'm being..."

Astarion raised an eyebrow. "To share this with others? Though the temptation to tease you a little is quite present, the thought of others knowing how utterly debauched you look, how beautifully you fall apart...no. This is between us, though they may hear us."

"They won't. I cast a zone of silence."

"Good." A finger carefully slipped inside, Gale's breath hitching. "You're so tight. I don't know how I'll move inside you."

It was a tease, and Gale knew it. He forced himself to take deep breaths, to relax around the finger in him. He had played with himself before, had a few toys at home, but it felt nothing like having someone else touching him. His nerves felt like little sparks of electricity were shooting into his limbs, followed by liquid heat. He pushed down, begging for more.

Astarion chuckled, watching his lover writhe beneath him, undulating his hips with the motions of his fingers. Occasionally, he knew he brushed that tender location inside, earning him a gasp and shudder, but his goal was to make Gale come on his cock, tempting as it was to bring him over the edge on fingers alone. Even now, he was pleased to see his lover hard again.

"Please," Gale whispered. "Please...I need you in me. I need your cock."

The vampire stilled his fingers, before carefully pulling them out. Gale could feel his heart pounding, the slight fear and vulnerability of his position, but he wanted this. He wanted to share this with Astarion, and only hoped he would not be an utter disappointment. He felt the head at his hole, and tensed for a moment, before relaxing. Then, slowly, began the stretch, slightly burning, a dull ache as the muscles were stretched wide. He clenched, earning a hiss from the elf, before he relaxed. A hand wrapped gently around his length, stroking him as he was filled. Nothing had felt like this, not his few fumblings when he was young, not even his time with Mystra.

Astarion watched the wizard beneath him, pausing at any sign of discomfort as he breached the tight hole. He vaguely wondered if he should have opened him more, but his pleas were so sweet and filthy, he couldn't argue. He was so warm, his cock enveloped in velvety heat. Had the worry of hurting Gale not balanced his lust, he was sure he would have embarrassed himself as well. Finally, their hips met, and the elf leaned down to kiss Gale's chest, over the Orb.

"Tell me when you're ready," Astarion said, fingers still stroking the man beneath him.

Gale shuddered, finally opening his eyes. He hadn't realized he had closed them, to fully immerse himself in his sense of touch. Astarion was watching him closely, and then to his utter surprise, the vampire removed his earring, tossing it aside.

"Astarion," he huffed. "Really?"

"I hate that thing. You're mine. You'll wear something I chose."

The wizard shivered. "Move, then. Make me yours."

Slowly, Astarion began to move. Despite the urge to pound into the man beneath him, he kept the pace sedate, letting the muscles loosen. He left kisses and bruises on the man's neck and chest. Only when he heard Gale mutter "faster," did he sit up, both hands holding the wizard's waist, and slid in hard. Gale arched his back, a soft gasp escaping his lips.

"Yes, that's it," Astarion said, changing the angle of his thrusts until he heard the strangled shout. "Gods, look at you! You look beautiful, taking my cock, flushed with pleasure. It's more beautiful than when you channel the Weave. Fuck!"

Little sounds were escaping Gale's lips, grunts and gasps, slowly becoming louder, filling the air along with the slap of skin on skin, the wet sound of where they were joined, Astarion's cock plunging into that tight hole.

"A-Astarion!" Gale cried, fingers moving to the elf's lower back, avoiding the scars. It was perhaps this that pushed Astarion over the edge, the realization of how tender the man beneath him was with him, how much they cared for each other. Even as he felt himself begin to empty inside, he kept moving, kept rolling his hips, filling the man to the brim, and then overflowing.

"Come," Astarion said, not recognizing his own voice.

Gale shuddered, then opened his mouth in a silent scream as he toppled over the edge again, any remaining thoughts scattering like leaves flying in the wind. He was shaking with the ecstacy, cock once again spurting heavy strands of come over their bellies. It felt like it wouldn't stop, like he hadn't had a real orgasm before. He could feel it in his whole body, each muscle clenching and then relaxing at the waves of pleasure.

Astarion eventually stilled his movements, remaining inside of Gale for a little longer. He pushed some sweat-soaked hair out of the man's face, the wizard leaning into the touch.

"I wish I could feed you," Gale panted, and Astarion tensed.

"Will you give me a taste?" Astarion asked, carefully pulling out, causing them to both groan. He watched as come leaked from the human's hole, tempted to eat the man out.

"Is that wise?"

"If it's bad, I plan to eat you out."

Gale shuddered, giving a small huff, but leaning his head back, elongating his neck. "Then try, if you wish."

Again, Astarion took the offering swiftly, teeth piercing the man's neck before either could hesitate. He could still taste the sour hint of the Orb murking the wizard's blood, but it was greatly overwhelmed by the other flavors, similar to his spend, but with added floral hints. At least that bitch goddess had done something good with stabilizing the damn bomb. He moaned as the nectar entered him, and his traitorous cock twitched.

Gale gave a sharp inhale as the piercing teeth entered his neck. Apparently, his blood must have been better if the vampire kept drinking. Then he heard a soft moan, against his neck. His limbs were growing sluggish, and he could feel himself growing colder. He nearly worried he would pass out, but the vampire pulled away, licking his lips. The sight of his own blood shouldn't have made him feel anything but horror, but lust rushed through his veins. They were both rocking against each other, despite neither of them being ready for another round.

With a bit of difficulty, Astarion pulled away to once more search his bags, finding his restoration scrolls and casting one on his wizard. Gale blinked, as if waking up, and the vampire gave a small huff of amusement, moving to lay down on his side beside the man. The wizard rolled, giving a small wince at the shift.

"Too much?" Astarion asked. "I have potions, too."

"No. I like it. Thank you, Astarion."

The vampire was surprised. Had any former lover thanked him before? "It was my pleasure. I...thank you for sharing this gift with me. For...accepting me."

Gale stroked his cheek again. "You've accepted me, flaws and all. It would be quite hypocritical to not do the same with you."

"Then I suppose...we'll just have to accept each other, despite our imperfections."

"Yes, because I fear I cannot seem to stay away from you. I want to walk every step with you."

"Because of my perfect cock?"

"Astarion!" Gale laughed, and the vampire couldn't help but join in the merriment.

They shifted closer, their limbs tangling. They still didn't feel adequate for the other, but they knew now that despite it, they would indeed face the future together.