#depraved carnal lust he said

[eff-plays]

Sure, bud

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Penance

Astarion x Y/N x Abdirak - oneshot - 3.8K WC NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut, Bondage, Spanking, Riding Crop, Inappropriate use of a mace hilt, Degradation (slut, whore, etc). Dirty talk, Spit, Edging, Blood, Mean Dom/Soft Dom, THREESOME, Aftercare (duh), Yeah, they talk you through it. Absolute depravity, you're gonna need to go to church after this one. You’re responsible for your own browser history.

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“You bore that pain like a true believer dear one, Loviatar herself could not have done better.” Said Abdirak, his head tilted back and little pants of air leaving his mouth.

Erotic, you thought. Not knowing pain could feel so good. Your eyes met Astarion’s, he looked far away. The only prominent thing about him in this moment was the straining hard on. Oh. The thought of him enjoying seeing you squirm sent a jolt between your legs. Rightly or wrongly, thoughts crossed your mind. Impure, heinous thoughts of what it would be like to have them both. Abdirak and Astarion. 

Astarion shut the chamber door, causing your head to whip to him. His eyes were dark, full of lust. It almost scared you, he was stalking towards you like you were prey to be devoured. Glancing over your shoulder you saw Abdirak pushing towards you as well, with a painfully obvious strain in his pants. 

“There is only one god, little love…” Astarion said as he gripped your face. You lowered yourself to your knees, keeping your eyes on him always. “So good for me… for your god…” he said as he traced your jawline, looking over you with hungry eyes.

Your hand reached for Astarion’s belt before Abdirak’s hand caught your wrist. “Use them.” He told Astarion, “Allow me to alleviate you both.” 

Astarion’s eyes held a wicked gleam, “Are you alright with that love? With both of us?” He asked, both of them looking at you waiting for your consent to move even an inch further. 

“Avavaen, eath'she” you replied nodding, knowing that when you spoke Elvish it drove Astarion mad. He pulled you closer to him by your throat. You whined as you strained against Abdirak’s grip. He held your hands together behind your back with his much larger hand. 

“I can’t wait to see the way you work…” Abdirak whispered in your ear before nipping your neck.

Astarion’s cock stood proud against his stomach, you licked your lips as he guided it towards you. He indulged himself and his most carnal desires. He drew your head in and out at an impossible speed but you were determined to be good. Your gags and chokes egging him on. Tears flowed from your eyes as you took him. 

Abdirak licked up a tear, shuddering. “Magnificent.” He mumbled, keeping your hands in place as your struggled against him. He led his free hand up your shirt, tugging and rolling your nipples while his tongue and teeth made work of your neck. Your moans only pushing Astarion closer to the edge. Right when Abdirak pressed his hand to your clothed crotch, Astarion shuddered. His seed coating your throat as you moaned around him. 

“So pretty for me…” he gasped as you kitten licked his tip. 

Your head was pulled back by your hair, you groaned as the tears of pleasure kept flowing. “You are so delicious…” whispered Abdirak. His hand fists in your hair, roughly pulling your back flush with his chest. You groan, arching to try and relieve the twinge of pain from your scalp. “Tell me dear one, as beautiful of a performance as that was, did you really think your penance would end with a few hits?” Abdirak murmurs, tugging your head back for emphasis.

Astarion hummed as he closed the gap between you, his gaze utterly predatory. His head dipped down, as if to kiss you, but his lips stopped just before meeting yours. You whine, straining to close the gap. Abdirak laughs cruelly, jerking your head back and slapping your ass as he released your hands..

“Now pet, when did we say you could move?” Astarion teased as he stood back up to his full height. His hands reach out to swipe a tear off your cheek, trailing down to stop at your lips. They ghost over your lips, dipping in to lightly stroke your tongue. “Suck.” 

You suck his fingers, drifting your tongue across them and giving them the same attention you gave his cock just moments ago. Lifting your gaze, you gently nibble the tip of his fingers. Astarion’s calm exterior remains, but his eyes twinkle in amusement. “Abdirak, forgive me, but did I say to use teeth?” Astarion smirked.

You couldn’t see the priest, but you could feel the rumble of his laugh as he responded. “This little one seems to be just begging for punishment,” Abdirak says as he punctuates the statement with another slap on your ass. 

Astarion gently pulls his fingers from your lips, trailing your spit down your chin before roughly grabbing your jaw and wrenching your mouth open with his thumb. You whine, drool dripping from your lips as Astarion spits in your mouth. “Hold it there. Don’t you dare swallow. You’ve disobeyed enough today.” You moan, unable to respond with the teasing comeback.

“Sweet thing has been spoiled far too much,” Abdirak all but purrs, “she’s clearly forgotten her manners.” 

“Abdirak, be a dear and make y/n more comfortable. She seems far too warm in all those clothes.” Astarion orders, his gaze never leaving yours.

“With pleasure.”

The priest releases his grip on your hair, his hands sliding to your chest to fumble with the ties of your shirt. Growling in frustration, Abdirak grabs a knife from his table to cut the shirt from your body. Your breath hitches as the blade tears through the fabric. Abdirak makes short work of your pants, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Grabbing a leather strap, he quickly ties your hands behind your back.

While Abdirak works, Astarion fucks your mouth with his other hand. The fingers roughly moving in and out. You groan as you feel the mixture if his and your spit run down your chin. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, “taking it like such a good fucking slut.” You whine in response as he continues to degrade you. “My perfect little slut. You would get on your knees in camp and worship my cock in front of our entire party if it meant getting just a taste of my cum. Wouldn’t you?” 

A beat passes, but you’re unable to respond as his fingers plunder your mouth. Abdirak, finished with his task, roughly grabs your throat from behind. “Answer him,” he orders, spanking your pussy. 

You squirm in their drip, but another swift smack on your mound halts your movement. 

“Well pet?” Astarion grins. “Yes sir-” You attempt to answer. With his fingers nearly prodding your throat, it comes out a messy gurgle. Astaration chuckles and he pulls his hands from your mouth. 

“Swallow now pet, you’ve earned it,” Astarion purrs.You silently thank him as you swallow. His gaze shifts behind you, to Abdirak. “Come on priest, you said you would alleviate us. What would you have our darling little whore do?”

Abdirak motions for Astarion to sit on a nearby bench. “I think if she wants any chance of coming, she needs to earn it.” His attention drifts to you, “show me how bad you want it dear one. Ride his thigh.” 

Astarion shifts to make room for you as you scramble to fulfill the priest’s request. You moan as your pussy makes contact, the friction heavenly. Astarion’s hands shift to your hips, guiding you as your buck against him. 

Abdirak moves to his desk, and you can hear him moving things around as he looks for something. Your head turns to see, but Astarion swiftly slaps your thigh. “None of that. Eyes on me. The priest was kind enough to let you rub your cunt on my thigh after your pathetic attempt to follow instructions earlier. The least you can do is give us a good show.” 

You groan at the filthy words, the only think that could rival your lover’s prowess on the battlefield was his dirty mouth. Grinding down faster, you feel your release building. Right before you have the chance to cum, Abdirak jerks you from Astarion’s lap. You whine, having no idea how he knew you were close.

“What the fuck?” You hiss at him. “I was so close-”

“She’s got quite the mouth on her.” Abdirak says to Astarion without so much as a glance towards you.

You whip around to face Abdirak, “that’s not fair! I was so close. You said I could cum!”

Abdirak laughed, “No manners and now you can’t listen. I said you could show me how bad you needed it. You’re not quite down earning it.” His drifts down, slipping into your underwear and dipping two fingers inside you. Your head drops back as a moan escapes you. Abdirak pulls his fingers out, pausing to rub some of your wetness into your clit. 

“Please,” you whimper. Abdirak drops his head to nip your neck.

“Now you’re getting it,” he praises, rewarding you with slightly harder pressure against your clit. He retreats his hand and tweaks your nipple harshly before stepping back to reveal the riding crop he picked up from his table. “We are going to play a little game and give you a chance to earn that orgasm.”

“And here I thought we were going to deny this disobedient little slut until she was begging for it,” Astarion teases from his spot on the bench. His demeanor is relaxed, but you can feel him reach out psychically through the tadpole to check in. What’s your color, pet? 

Green, but I’m going to get you back later for edging me. 

I’m sure you will. You can hear the smirk in his words.

“Oh she’ll be begging,” Abdirak smirks.

“What do I have to do?” you ask.

“Simple, all you need to do is count to twenty. Nothing difficult.”

You eye the priest suspiciously, “What’s the catch.”

“No catch, dear one. But, if you forget or make a mistake, we are restarting.” Abdirak guides you back to where Astarion sat, bending you over. You blush, seeing that you had left a wet spot on Astarion’s thigh. 

As if sensing your thoughts, Astarion guides your head to it. “Tongue out, clean your mess pet.” You groan, lapping your juices from his thigh. He hums in contentment as you finish. 

Abdirak kneels behind you.”Not the only mess you’ve made,” he says, running his fingers across your drenched panties. “Such a dirty little slut. We give you a chance to remedy your actions, but here you are. On your knees, with soaked panties, begging for more.” He roughly tugged your panties off, tossing them to Astarion. 

Your lover caught them, smirking as an utterly filthy idea came over him. Using two fingers, he pushes the wet fabric into your mouth. “Come on, pet. Suck them clean.”

Your eyes flutter when you hear Astarion’s breathe hitch at the sight of you dutifully cleaning them. A snap against your ass jerks you from the task you were so absorbed in. Abdirak had struck your ass with the riding crop.

The sting faded as Abdirak fisted your hair and pulled you off of Astarion’s fingers. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“One,” you whine. 

“Such a good little pain slut,” Abdirak murmurs, dropping your hair. He delivers another swift hit onto your other ass cheek and you choke out the count.

“Now pet, we both know you can multitask,” Astarion tuts. “Finish.” You return to your task as Abdirak smacks the crop onto you again. You gag out the third count from around Astarion’s fingers.

The two fall into a rhythm as Abdirak warms your ass with the crop and you continue to count. Astarion adding a swift slap to your ass whenever you neglected your task. The initial sting had begun to build as the count increased and you could feel your pussy drip down your thighs as you squirmed to get any friction.

Abdirak, noticing your pitiful attempts, delivered a hit right on cunt. “None of that.”

You cry out in shock more than pain. You blink away a tear, and notice that Astarion is looking down, expectantly. 

“My dumb little slut,” Astarion coos. “Couldn’t even count to twenty.” He pulls the panties from your mouth, tucking them into his breast pocket.

“It’s not her fault,” Abdirak answers. “Poor thing simply can’t focus on anything but that greedy little pussy.”

“Maybe you should do something about that,” you moan. Silently begging for them to give up this stupid little game and just fuck you already.

Abdirak pulls you back a bit, pushing your head down to the floor. “Ass up.” 

Your arms slightly ache from being bound behind your back, but the burn just adds to your arousal. Astarion gets up from his spot, shucking the remainder of his clothes. You shiver in excitement as you feel him nudge your legs further apart with his feet. Astarion fucks two, then three fingers into you, prepping you for what’s to come. 

“Finally gonna give up this manners bullshit and just fuck me already?” You tease. 

“Something like that,” Astarion laughs, and you can hear a shift as Abdirak hands him something. You arch your back as you feel something prod at your entrance. The cool metal wasn’t exactly what you were expecting. You moan at the intrusion as Astarion fucks the object into you.

“What th-”

“My mace,” Abdirak supplies. “You haven’t quite earned a cock yet, so you’ll be taking the hilt of my mace while we finish your punishment.” Abdirak finishes his sentence with a smack to your now tender ass cheek. He had clearly abandoned the riding crop for a more hands on approach.

Astarion gently fucks the handle of Abdiraks mace into you, dipping his other hand down to rub your clit in swift circles. “Come on pet, you can take it.” 

You moan, your breath coming out in pants as you whimper out the count. “One.”

“There’s my girl.” Astarion purrs, rewarding you with a harder circle over your clit. 

The two continue their game, Abdirak delivering harsh slaps to your ass and thighs and Astarion rewarding you after every count. You struggle to focus on the count as you feel your orgasm slowly build again. It’s all so much. The stimulation was coming from all sides. Your pussy was full and the drag of the hilt against your walls was delicious. Astarion’s ministrations on your clit were steady and practiced. Abdirak’s slaps on your ass caused you to jerks forward slightly on every hit. The rough ground adding to everything.

“What number was that?” Abdirak asked after his last hit. You wracked your brain for the answer. You had been focused so hard on the building orgasm, but Astarion stilled his motion on your clit so you could answer. “Twelve?” You guess breathlessly. 

“Again?” Abdirak chides. “This is the second time you’ve lost count.”

“Poor thing,” Astarion mocks, “given a second chance and all she can do with it is drool on the floor and moan like a dumb little slut.”

You desperately try to find something, anything to say in your defense but you don’t have a chance. Astarion resumes fucking the hilt into you and doubles down his efforts on your clit as Abdirak rains down slaps onto your ass.

“Please, please, plea-” you beg them, your legs shaking and your fingers uselessly dangling behind your back. 

“You got yourself into this mess, dear one. Take it,” Abdirak orders.

“Hold it,” Astarion growls. “Don’t you dare fucking come yet.” 

You whine, begging for him to relent and just let you come.

“Please, sir I’m so clo-”

“No,” he punctuates with a slap on your clit. Your eyes roll back into your head and you tremble as you fall over the edge. Your pussy flutters around the mace’s hilt as Astarion fucks you through your orgasm. 

You nearly black out from the force of it, and when you blink your eyes open you can feel Abdirak gently cut the ties from wrists as Astarion pulls the hilt from your pussy and tosses the mace to the side.

“You did so good for us, baby,” Astarion murmurs as he stands and picks you up and places you on the table. You hiss as your ass makes contact with the cool surface.

“But I didn’t do what you said,” you say softly. “I came when I wasn’t supposed to and I-”

Abdirak chuckles and slides beside Astarion to give you a kiss. “You were exquisite, my dear. Moaning and writhing beneath us so beautifully. You were never going to win our game.” 

“Now, I think our darling pet has earned herself a reward,” Astarion purred. Abdirak nodded in agreement and walked away to take a seat on the same bench Astarion was in earlier. “You’re not joining?” Astarion asked.

“I’m enjoying the view,” Abdirak answered as he pulled his cock out, stroking it lightly.

Astarion grins, turning back to you. “Color?” 

You pull him in for a quick kiss before answering. “Green. Now get to it.” “Yes ma’am,” Astarion replies as he pushes you flat onto the table and pulls your leg up from under your knee. Sliding his cock slowly into you, Astarion moves your leg to rest on his shoulder. He turns his head to press a kiss into the skin before nipping it.

“Astarion,” you whine as you move your hips to meet his. 

“Such a needy little thing,” Abdirak chuckles. “Give her what she wants.”

You turn your head to look at the priest and go to offer a retort, but you’re cut off as Astarion thrusts deep. You moan as Astarion sets a slow pace. He fucks you lazily, trailing his hand down to press on your lower stomach. Abdirak fists his cock at the same pace, watching you and your lover intently. 

Astarion’s curls bounce as he thrusts into you, and you can’t stop yourself from reaching up to run your fingers through his hair and gently tug the strands. 

A hand reaches out to tug your nipple and you let out a moan. Looking over, you see that Abdirak has abandoned his bench to get a closer view. Not wanting the priest left out, you try to reach a hand over to stroke him but he repositions you down to your clit. “Come on, dear one. Rub your greedy little clit like I know you want to.”

You groan as you follow his instructions. “That’s it, pet” Astarion purrs. “Just like that.”

“Keep going. You’re so good for us.” Abdirak continues to pinch your nipples and roughly pluck them. He dips down to take one into his mouth, gently biting it before lapping his tongue across it.

“Fuck,” Astarion moans. “You’re doing so good.” His pace picks up, and it’s clear he’s getting close. “Come on baby, I can feel you clenching around me, I know you’re almost there.” He pants as he turns to bite your calf. He moans, drinking deeply from your leg as he climaxes.

You whine as you cum again, circling your clit and working yourself through it. Abdirak, gently rolled your nipple in his fingers as he watched the two of you come undone. 

Astarion pulls out, kneeling down to watch his cum drip from your cunt. “Beautiful,” he murmurs as he lifts his hand to your center. Your breathe hitches and you moan as he runs his fingers through the mess and presses them inside you, fucking his cum back into you.

Astarion stands up, helping you stand up. “Poor pet,” Astarion teases, “think you can take another for me?” You nod and he moves behind you and picks you up. Your back is braced against his chest as he grips underneath your knees to hold your legs open, exposing your soaked cunt to the cool air. 

“What are you-” “Now priest,” Astarion’s chest rumbles as he speaks, “why don’t you give this little sinner some divine penance.” 

Abdirak stalks forward, fisting his cock as he takes in the view. You whine as he slides his cock into your sensitive pussy. Your cheeks flush as you hear the squelch of him fucking Astarion’s cum deeper into you.

Your eyes flutter shut as Abdirak hits a particularly sensitive spot. “None of that, pet.” Astarion grunts. “Open your fucking eyes and look at him.”

“She’s positively sinful,” Abdirak moans. “Fuck, just look at how well she’s taking me.” 

You glance down to where you’re connected and whimper as you see his cock slide in and out. Both your and Astarion’s mixed juices are coating his cock, making a mess of both of you.

“Harder,” Astarion hisses. Abdirak speeds up, fucking you deeper and you moan in response. “Oh that’s it,” your lover groans. “Gods you’re taking it so well, pet. You’re probably so ready to cum, but I need you to hold it just a little bit longer.” 

Abdirak catpures your mouth in a searing kiss as he continues to fuck into you, breaking apart to look down to watch where you’re connected. Moaning, you try to reach down and get some friction on your clit. 

Abdirak bats your hand away and works tight circles onto your clit with his thumb as he fucks up into you. 

“Please Astarion,” you whimper. “Please let me cum, I don’t know how much longer I ca-”

“Cum for us.” Your eyes roll back and you give into the feeling of your building orgasm. As your orgasm wracks your body, Abdirak groans and thrusts up into you faster, finishing shortly after.

Astarion gently pulls you from Abdirak’s grip and lays you back down on the table before diving his head between your thighs. You whimper in oversensitivity, squirming underneath his practiced tongue. 

“Come on dear one,” Abdirak encourages, “one more. You’ve got one more in you.”

You moan and cry as Astarion sucks your clit hard before lapping over it. His hand presses onto your lower stomach, stopping your movement as he moves his other hand up to fuck into your tender cunt.

“One more. You’re almost done, come on dear one.” 

You scream as the last orgasm rips through your body and you writhe in Astarion’s hold.

“That’s it sweetheart,” Astarion says as he stands up. “You did so good for us.” 

He lifts you from the table and sits on the floor, cradling you in his arms. He rubs your back, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear.

Abdirak joins the two of you, placing gentle kisses into your skin. “You were so perfect, dear one.”

Your breathing slows and returns to normal. 

“Pet,” Astarion murmurs, “are you with us once more?” You nod, nuzzling into his neck. You feel his chuckle rumble in his chest. “We wore you out, didn’t we?” 

He kisses your head, combing his fingers through your hair. “Don’t fall asleep yet darling. I’m gonna clean you up and get you a well deserved snack.”

“Thank you both for that wonderful performance,” Abdirak said. “Dare I say it was inspiring.”

“Inspiring indeed.” Astarion murmurs as he stares at you in awe. Abdirak watches the scene before him. The tenderness wasn’t lost on him.

“You really love her, don’t you?”

Astarion’s fingers pause in your hair as he answers, “You have no idea.”

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Naboo's Note:

I need professional help after this one. BUT - I hope you all enjoy because I really just went ham on this. Wanted to start 2024 off with a bang and by golly did I ever. Did not proof read, was possessed while writing - too lazy now. Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! ILYSM <3 !!!

[wheretheharekissesthefox]

Sweet Little Treats

The tadpoled adventurers meet Harleep, and it goes a little different than expected...

Warnings: graphic description of sex, M/M, F/F, M/F, switching, orgy, incubus sex magic, spell-bound, non-consensual sex, Depraved Carnal Lust, Gale's creaking knees

"Ah. The House of Hope, nestled amidst the Nine Hells. Fascinating," proclaimed Gale with his arms akimbo.

"Ugh, why's the decor in these places always so gaudy? It's hideous!?" complained Astarion.

"Gods, it's hot in here," groaned Shadowheart.

"We're in the Hells. What did you expect?" Lae'zel retorted dryly and the cleric glared at her.

"I hate it here," muttered Karlach. "Brings back shitty memories."

"I understand your feelings," Halsin spoke warmly. "I too couldn't bear the memories of what happened while we were in the Shadow-Cursed Lands."

"Heh, he said 'bear'", snickered Shadowheart.

"Focus on the important part," rebuked Lae'zel irritated.

"Easy now. There's no need for hostility between us," Wyll chimed in concerned. The githyanki shot him a look, crossing her arms.

"Rich coming from you. If my memory doesn't deceive me, I remember how you tried to kill Karlach without asking questions first because of your devil mistress."

"Exactly!" Shadowheart agreed haughtily.

"That's all water under the bridge now," beamed Karlach, putting an arm around Wyll and pulling him closer despite his yelp of protest. "We're all good now."

"Of course," replied Lae'zel sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Uhm, folks? I'm afraid we have company," Gale told them, pointing towards a spacious bed where an almost naked Raphael in BDSM gear was spread out like a buffet.

"Oh, hello, sweet things," he moaned while stroking his own chest. "Are you here to play?"

"What the fuck happened to you, mate?" Karlach asked, eloquent as ever.

"I'm Harleep, Raphael's personal incubus, and I think you little treats got lost."

"Having a sex slave who disguises themself as you, is rather... mentally ill," remarked Galin.

"I don't know, darling. I'd fuck myself if I could," noted Astarion. "I'd love to see this handsome face twisted in pleasure."

"Please, keep that to yourself," sighed Gale, tired of all the tadpoled idiots around him.

"There seems to be a lot to unpack," Halsin said. "Maybe, you'd like to talk about your insecurities later."

The vampire spawn huffed offended.

"I do not have any insecurities, druid! You're positively demented!"

"So, what you're saying is this bloke's a sex demon?" Karlach yelled concerned. "Oh, hells no! Fuck that shite! I'm going to split him in half!"

"Oh, please do, sweet thing," moaned Harleep, spreading his legs.

"What the fuck?" Karlach stared at the incubus with her axe raised, too puzzled to move.

"Hm, I kind of like him," mused Shadowheart with a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Those shapeshifting abilities can come in handy in the bedroom..."

"Oh, Gods," Wyll muttered under his breath, suppressing a gag.

"It seems like you have quite an exquisite taste regarding your mating preferences," Halsin noted. "That's quite... resourceful."

"Are we just going to ignore the literal incubus in the room?" Gale asked miffed.

"Shut up and put that mouth to better use," Astarion told him.

"Thank the Gods Jaheira's on camp-watching duty," muttered Wyll.

Harleep's melodic laughter silenced them.

"You're such wonderful little treats. Little mice walking right into the lion's den."

"Oh, man! Even you spew shitty poetry?" groused Karlach. "Can't villains just be normal for once?"

"They wouldn't be villains then," replied Astarion, dryly.

"The bantering. The dynamic. – The tension." Harleep's voice fell to a deep purr as he rolled onto his stomach, unfolding his wings while poking his bottom lip with a sharp fingernail. "What to do with my sweet little treats? There are so many options..."

"How about we talk this out?" suggested Gale. "I'm sure we could come to an agreement."

"Oh, you will 'come', little mouse," purred the incubus, and before the party knew what happened, Harleep had snapped his fingers. A pink mist filled the air in the boudoir, accompanied by the sweet heavy smell of roses and cherries.

"What -" Gale coughed. "What - kind of magic is -"

He couldn't finish the sentence as another cough rattled his lungs. When he could breathe again, he straightened up, frantically looking for any caused damage. Nothing out of the ordinary. Strange... Except for the fact that Astarion stood way too close and eyed him way too predatorily.

"You know you can't consume my blood," Gale reminded him. The vampire spawn bit his lower lip.

"I'm aware, but I might be able to consume other fluids."

"Uhm, what?"

And with that, Astarion pounced on the confused wizard, kissing him stupid before ripping his robes apart, dropping to his knees, and swallowing down Gale's cock. The later squeaked high-pitched and would have been embarrassed if his brain wouldn't have stopped working. Instead, Gale held onto Astarion's shoulders like a lifeline as his mouth dropped open on a loud, guttural moan.

What's going in on? the wizard thought while he watched hell break loose around him. It must be the incubus' magic. Something potent that can't be broken easily. With the right spell, I might -

His brain got scrambled when he reached his orgasm and spilled into Astarion's mouth. It died just a tad more when he felt the vampire spawn swallow his load with a moan. Then, the latter looked up at him with pleading eyes. Those red rubies clouded with lust and incubus magic.

"Gale, darling, please get me off," Astarion whined. "I can't take much more. I think I'm dying again."

For a moment, Gale fought against the brain fog, trying to think clearly. He took a look around and saw how Wyll was ploughing into Karlach and Lae'zel was eating out Shadowheart like it was a battle strategy while Halsin kissed the cleric's face with a hand around his own cock.

Well, they seemed occupied, Gale thought. And Elminster wasn't around either, so, he might as well...

Without further ado, the wizard dropped onto his creaking knees and pulled down Astarion's trousers, revealing a lovely pale cock.

Astarion was trembling, sweat beading along his temples and neck, and Gale marvelled about the vampire spawn's ability to produce sweat.

"Gale... please..."

Oh, his name sounded so sweet and like a prayer on Astarion's tongue. Gale couldn't help himself and kissed the pale elf who moaned into it. Then, the wizard had mercy and took Astarion's cock in his mouth.

Meanwhile, the others had switched positions and while Wyll was bent over Karlach's lap, Halsin ate him out enthusiastically, making the younger man squirm and moan. At the same time, Lae'zel was fucking Shadowheart with a strap-on.

Harleep observed his little treats that were helplessly under his spell with a satisfied grin. Giggling, he stuck out his tongue to taste their combined lust in the air, feasting on its energy. How considerate of his master to let him play with these sweet little treats.

Harleep watched amused how Shadowheart and Lae'zel switched positions and the cleric started fucking into the githyanki. Halsin took Wyll slowly and gently while Karlach fucked the druid from behind, fast and hard. Meanwhile, Astarion - who'd come down the wizard's throat - and Gale were kissing tenderly and rubbing up against each other.

It all was rather sweet, Harleep mused, surprised. Usually, his targets would fuck each other roughly until they'd bleed and die of exhaustion, but these sweet little treats seem to actually care about each other. Harleep hesitated, pursing his lips. These little treats were special, he realised. They were different, not only driven by lust but also love. He watched, almost wistfully, how his little playthings kissed each other over and over again, their touches desperate but also gentle and reverent. It deserved a reward. With a deep sigh, Harleep plucked the rest of their sexual energy from the air with his forked tongue before dispelling his enchantment.

Immediately, the party members came to their senses.

"Chk! I cannot believe I had your mouth on me!" Lae'zel sneered as she donned her armour quickly.

"You had yours on me first!" Shadowheart countered. "I was just being polite."

“It was polite,” agreed the githyanki, surprised about her own answer. She eyed the cleric suspiciously and noticed the slight blush on her cheeks.

"It was awesome!" beamed Karlach. "After a decade, my dry spell has finally ended!"

"I - I was deflowered. In the Hells. By a druid," muttered Wyll, pressing his hands against his head and rocking back and forth. "Where's the romance in that? The chivalry?"

"It was a pleasure to pleasure you. We did as Nature intended. If you're curious, don't be shy and ask for more. I'm always here for you," Halsin told him, smiling, and patted Wyll's shoulder who whimpered lowly.

"Get off me!"

Astarion shoved Gale aside and hastily got onto his feet, pulling up his trousers. Slightly hurt, the wizard followed suit.

"I deeply apologise for making you uncomfortable," he said earnestly. "Under different circumstances, I'd have never done anything without your explicit consent, especially considering your past. But we all were under an incubus' spell, alas, I had no control over my action. None of us had."

Astarion huffed, straightening his armour, and mumbled: "As if you'd ever touch me under different circumstances..."

"I would if you wished," Gale replied sheepishly, averting his gaze as the vampire spawn's eyes bored into him.

"Are you making fun of me, wizard?"

"No, I'm dead serious."

That stunned Astarion into silence, then, he walked over and pulled Gale into a surprisingly tender kiss.

"You idiot. I can't stand you one bit." The pale elf smiled at the wizard. "When we're back at camp, find me and ask me. I'll be waiting."

Dazed, Gale blinked at him dumbly before blushing.

"Noted," he answered, smiling bashfully.

"Oy, lovebirds! What about this one?" yelled Karlach pointing at Harleep.

"Nothing you can do about me, little mouse," snickered the incubus. "I'm done playing with you. You can go annoy my master now, toodeloo."

He wiggled his fingers at them and then sent them flying through the air, through the door, and firmly closed the boudoir. They were his master's problem now. He'd had his fun and it was boring to play with the same little treats twice. - Well, he might made an exception with these ones, but oh, well... With a yawn, Harleep sprawled out on the silk sheets as he closed his eyes to savour the taste of the sweet little treats' lust and love on his tongue. Oh, it was so very sweet.

[tryin2writehere]

TW: Descriptions of violence and non-con, so if that is difficult for you to read about, please skip this bit of fic and take care of you!

Chapter 1 is

People In Glass Houses

Chapter 2

Edward Horniman’s voice was a trip down a long gravel road at midnight, rumbling out his ridiculously confident effusions. Sometimes that voice just uttering Susie’s name flared an inconvenient arousal within. She often contemplated how lovely it would be to hear him reading aloud, vacillating between his clipped, precise enunciations and his rocky waterfall oratory. Ideally, Eddie reading to her would include wrapping his mouth around luscious descriptions and dipping his tongue upon an abundance of flowery syllables. Gabriel García Márquez? Alice Munro? Nabokov? Truthfully, he could read the fucking Magna Carta, and she’d thrill to hear his voice octave-dive, the wondrous way it did sometimes. The man missed his calling; he should be working for Audible.

Certainly old enough to know her own foibles, Susie mentally cursed her wretched streak of impulsivity. If Eddie opened his mouth close enough (sans cigar,) she’d have him on the nearest flat surface.

Thank the stars for GPS. She hadn't even noticed the time pass, the landscape change, or the weather turn. Approaching Birmingham, a rainy gray wall shrouded fields and roads, and light fog swirled like ghosts on the ash tarmac. The polyrhythm of the windscreen wipers and the tiny raindrops swayed her back to meandering thoughts of Edward.

Susie decided it was inevitable. One day, one of them was going to hold eye contact a moment too long, and that would be it. It would sweep them away like a brush fire, feeding on their oxygen, and… what in the hell was she thinking? It was beyond reckless to even entertain fantasies, and she chided herself.

Far worse than carnal desires for Eddie was the equilibrium she noticed in his company. Accustomed to operating alone, Susie truly rarely felt lonely. But now? Now, she craved his steadying presence and the meter of their banter. She longed for the way he regarded her, listened earnestly, trusted her vault of knowledge and experience. She enjoyed the pull and push; it reset her in a way. He validated her authority even while he toyed with their power dynamic. She found his respect seemingly eclipsing his fear of her, and she wasn’t sure she’d EVER experienced this in a relationship that wasn’t blood-bound. She reveled in his quickened breathing pattern when she’d antagonized him, his parted mouth when astonished, his sweet tobacco and woody Blenheim smell, the intensity of his coal-black gaze in low light, the flexing of his enormous strong hands -

“Fucking hell,” she huffed a sigh in frustration, acutely aware that she’d circled back around to lust. Again.

As she pulled into the Walsh’s Gym car park, she drew her thoughts to the task ahead: how to coax a bargain from a notoriously licentious wanker. As luck would have it, Susie excelled in appealing to the pragmatism of the depraved, and this bolstered her confidence.

“You here to see Mr. Walsh?” A lanky man with ginger hair swung the glass door open, ushering her inside.

“I am. Susie Glass,” she introduced herself, stepping into the white glossy lobby, endless photos of boxers wainscoted the walls.

“I’m Sean,” he said, and nodded at a squat man dressed like a cartoon cat burglar in front of the reception desk, “that’s Don.”

“How’s it?” Don nodded, barely making eye contact as he rummaged through the thigh pockets of his black… leggings? Was he wearing leggings? She amended her cat burglar analogy to beat poet/jazz dancer.

“He’ll be down in two ticks,” Sean drew her attention in time for her to see his eyes sweeping over her body. “Mr. Walsh has great taste.”

She raised an eyebrow, “in what, Sean?”

He snorted, “in whatever you are.”

“Sugar and spice and everything nice,” Don stated without inflection, his expressionless brown eyes lifted to her as he mumbled, “found it.” He flicked his knife out of his leggings pocket, saluted her with the knife hand and dove over the reception desk with Balanchine-like elegance. Definitely a dancer.

“You’re gonna dull that gorgeous knife. Use a fuckin box cutter!” Sean shook his head in dismay.

“I didn’t see any other cars; are you closed today?”

Sean and Don exchanged a look and Sean snickered, “uh yeah, we’re closed.”

Don amended, “to the public.”

“I see you’ve met Sean and Don,” a booming voice called.

“Mr. Walsh,” she said by way of greeting when she spotted him strutting towards her.

“Ah no, love, you call me Sugar,” he smiled his oversized capped teeth, like a row of fresh white marble tombstones. He was a startlingly imposing man, at least 6’4” and obviously muscular in his fitted white designer tracksuit. His big square head was topped with a full head of blonde hair, curls product-tamed into place, grays brushing his temples. Through the cauliflower ear and the wide crooked nose of a former pugilist, she could see he was likely considered a handsome man.

“Let me give you the grand tour!” He placed his hand on her back and guided her to the right open doorway.

Sean interjected, before they were fully through the door, “Mr. Walsh, that shipment came in this morning.”

He stopped, hand still on Susie’s back and growled, “did you inventory it?”

“No.”

“Well inventory it then ya fucking eejit!” He laughed loudly, guiding Susie to the right with a squint of his gray eyes.

As they walked away, Susie heard the distinct metallic clicks and clacks of guns.

He led her into a red brick-ensconced training hall. Black heavy bags lined both sides of the room, hanging like abattoir hunks of meat on hooks. Enormous windows topped the brick walls, which would have typically given the room a vibrant quality. As it was, with an overcast sky, lights off, and dead quiet, it just felt like a slaughterhouse.

Susie stopped at the last heavy bag, “your gym is stunning, Sugar. Are these new?”

“Aye, they are. We don’t use this gym as we do the others. Well, not for the training anyway,” he winked and laughed, further confirming the talk that Sugar’s side hustle was indeed weapons trafficking.

Turning to her, walking backward, Sugar prattled off his history of purchases for the gyms punctuated by fighter accomplishments. She enviously eyed the red tatami springboard floors they walked upon, wondering what method could keep them so immaculate. Susie attempted to shutter the redesigns that populated her mind as they talked.

Sugar led her through another area with huge vaulted ceilings and five boxing rings, boasting of his success, “no other gym in England has turned out as many wins.

That was an outright lie, of course, but Susie didn’t balk. She was no stranger to the arrogant blustering of giant egos. She had wrangled worse.

As they entered the next doorway, she clocked the building's orientation as a horseshoe shape. It briefly conjured memories of the horseshoe above the door of her childhood home. “Pointing up, to catch all of the luck,” her mother had whispered to her, as though it was a secret. Well, it didn’t fucking work. But this would. Perhaps she would name it: “The Horseshoe.” She could hear her brother’s voice in her head, “what the fucks that got to do with fightin’?”

“Drink?” Sugar offered as they entered his office.

“Sure,” she sat at a mahogany table plonked at an odd angle within the large room.

He handed her a glass of whiskey and took his to what could only be described as a leather throne of a chair tucked behind the largest desk she had ever seen.

“This is Middleton Distillery. You know it?”

“I do.”

“So Susie Glass, what’s a pretty puff dealer like you want with a boxing outfit?”

She sipped her whiskey, and it reminded her that if she was going to drink posh Irish whiskey, she preferred Redbreast 32.

“Your succinct description is a bit off the mark.”

He laughed at her, “is that a fact?”

“I own and operate GlassKnuckle,” she offered. “My brother is a boxer, and my grandfather was a boxer. I’m interested in expanding, and this area would be ideal.”

“Yer fucking kidding! This area??” He slammed his hand on the desk. “ridiculous shite.”

“Which part?” She asked coolly.

“This has been my home for twenty years, and I’ll tell ya, it’s gone to gentrification, hasn’t it? Fucking hipster craft beer arseholes! I hate them all. It’s all I can not do to gut the little fuckers with their wee coffees and their precious art shows,” he swallowed the last quarter of his whiskey in one large gulp. “Used to be a standup neighborhood with decent folk.”

“So, not fond of Digbeth. I can understand that; the location does suits my needs, if we can come to a mutually agreaable deal.”

He was as well groomed as his unused gym, his nails manicured, he smelled strongly of some pine-forward cologne. She decided his attention to the superficial likely didn’t stem from breeding; instead, much like her own meticulous appearance, a stab at the control and exuding power.

“Another?” He offered as he poured himself a generous glass.

“I’m still working on this one,” she smiled politely.

“You nurse a drink better than Florence Nightengale,”

“Moderation has its merits,” she replied flatly.

He raised his eyebrows, “Are you judging me, Susie Glass?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“That’s good,” his face relaxed as much as she figured the Botox would allow, and he loudly drank the entire glass.

She sat patiently, sipped at her drink and waited for a natural opening to wrap this shit up, “Sugar, are you entertaining offers on this location?”

“I am,” he smiled and pointed to the picture on the wall with his gold ring-adorned fingers. “You know who that bloke is?”

“I do. Hero of yours?”

“Hero to everyone, should be. We have a statue back home, but here, right underappreciated, Rinty is.”

“I’m sure. Where’s home?”

“Belfast. But you know Rinty, he said, ‘It ain’t about how hard you can hit. It’s about how hard you can hit and keep moving forward.’ I feel sometimes I can hear him saying this to me. I just keep moving forward.”

Susie was well aware that quote was from the film Rocky, and wondered if he was fucking with her, until she noticed a framed quotation also misattributed to Rinty on the shelves behind his desk.

Her vision blurred momentarily, and she felt weighted with sleepiness. She made a mental note to grab one of those wee espressos from a hipster arsehole when this was done.

“And I’ll tell you what else, he could fucking sing!” He boisterously announced and pitched his glass into the wall, physically delighting in the thunderous crash with a loud laugh, his head kicked back. She hoped she hadn’t flinched.

“Sean and Don are fantastic with a Hoover and a mop,” he explained, as though it made sense to casually smash glasses into walls if one’s henchmen are good at cleaning. Cunt.

“I’ll sing it for you, one of Rinty’s favorites.” He wasn’t asking.

He loudly launched into a verse of “The Fields of Athenry.” Susie desperately attempted to somewhat hold the uncomfortable eye contact while he crooned to her.

She hoped he wasn’t set on singing another verse and clapped, quickly complimenting him, “you’ve a lovely singing voice Sugar.”

What she would have initially described as loquacious was now resembling mania. No matter. He wouldn’t be the first unhinged business acquaintance she’d worked with, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last.

The dizziness returned and she felt more at . She’d only had three-quarters of her glass, and when the force of realization hit her, she nearly shook. She steeled herself and looked into his eyes, which matched the dreary sky, “if you’re game, I’d love to discuss details with you, but I need to use the loo first.”

She stood and the room spun.

“You good there?” he stood as well.

She steadied herself and turned from him, “the loo this way?” She pointed and began walking away from Sugar as fast as she considered nonchalant.

“Yeah just up the stairs to your left.”

Stairs? Fucking great. She saw the stairs in the distance, her vision blurring in and out like faulty binoculars.

As casually as possible while attempting to walk with authority, she unbuttoned the top button on her blue blouse, and using her pinky to hold the sheath in place under her center bra wire, she slid the bone knife she had tucked between her breasts into her hand.

With no small amount of force, she slammed into the wall and was suddenly sandwiched between the bricks and Sugar’s body. Sugar’s mouth hovered at her ear, “look a bit wobbly Susie, you need a hand.”

He wasn’t asking.

“Get off of me,” she ordered with a calm ferocity.

“You drank too much,” he roughly spun her by the shoulders to face him and pressed her back further against the bricks.

“You clearly don’t know what you’ve done.”

“Just relax Susie,” he said pressing himself against her more firmly, his hands on her.

“You’re going to get off of me, or I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Just relax,” he ripped her shirt open with a flick of his fingers, and panic surged forward. Don’t fucking panic.

Her right arm was pinned against the wall, and she was using her left to try and push Sugar away from her.

Reworking her strategy as quick as her foggy brain would allow she spat, “that quote isn’t Rinty you fuckwit. it’s Rocky Balboa.”

That got his attention and he pulled back a bit to look at her face, “what are you on about?”

“And Barry McGuigan was an infinitely better boxer than fucking Rinty,” she sneered.

“McGuigan?! He was a fuckin eejit! Fuckin tout pussy!” He screamed, towering over her.

Susie felt her arm finally free of his weight and jammed her knife into his left eye socket with as much force as she could muster. He hurtled backwards as she yanked her knife back out of his eye. She dropped to the ground with a muted thud, her legs unexpectedly going out. He clutched his eye with a hand screaming, and she sunk her knife into his crotch, then frantically scuttled backward away from him.

Her legs felt like foreign objects on the cool textured floor.

“Purse, purse, purse, purse,” this was the mantra as she crawled, her hands slapping the floor, her knees and shins burning as she frantically dragged them along. Why was she so fucking loud?

Her vision telescoped into a purse vignette, and everything else was blurry and terribly far away. After crawling endlessly, she reached her purse and clumsily poured everything out on the floor with an immense clatter. What did she need? What the fuck was she looking for? Who was hollering? And there it was, gleaming amongst the clutter, her beautiful Beretta. She clutched at the textured grip and upright upon her knees turned in time to see what appeared to be an armed Sean and Don hustling toward her. Which was which?

She used one of her hands to push herself to standing, and hobbled towards them, towards the slaughterhouse.

“What the fuck is going on?” Sean (or maybe Don) squeaked, eyes wide, swinging his gun around.

“Holy shit!” Don (or possibly Sean) yelled when he spotted Susie.

Count them Susie.

“Count what?” Don asked.

She fired at them. OneTwoThreeFourFive,” she watched them collapse to the ground, unmoving.

“Five shots; three left,” she thought, or possibly said aloud.

Quite suddenly, she couldn’t breathe; was she in a straitjacket; no, she was being crushed in a bin lorry. Dizziness and confusion consumed her, and she desperately willed herself to make sense of what was happening.

Sugar Walsh’s arms were crushing her (clearly not a bin lorry,) and he was behind her and bellowing something, but she couldn’t understand words. They slammed into the floor; he rolled her onto her back, straddling her, his hands on her throat squeezing, blood dripping onto her face from his, huffing and puffing his whisky-tinged breath on her.

Do something!

She remembered the gun in her hand, deliberately pulled her noodle arm up, squeezed the trigger and Sugar’s head exploded. His enormous body collapsed fully on top of her like an avalanche of giant Irish cunt.

Her breath wooshed out like a bellows, and she couldn’t get it back. But she was alive. She couldn’t move, but she was alive. She used her free arm to wench his shoulder pit up up up far enough for her nose and mouth and chin to wedge from underneath him, and then blackness closed in.

When she regained consciousness, she frantically tried to move her pinned body, wiggling and screaming, “get the fuck off me!”

“Fuck!” She cried, and an epiphany struck her addled brain.

Phone, phone, phone, phone, phone, phone. Where is it??

She yelled, “Hey Siri!”

She thought she heard her phone respond. Dizziness weighted her body. Stay awake, stay awake, stay awake!

“Text The Duke my location!”

“Send your location to The Duke?”

“YES! Yes!”

“It’s sent,” she thought she heard Siri say, and the last thought she had before the darkness swooped in again was “I hope I don’t chuck up.”

[kirwond]

Fate Spins Along As It Should

A playlist for Baldur's Gate 3, following characters and events for the game.

Notes from the game, cover art from BG3 concept art.

Listen at Spotify.

Even more playlists here.

Tracklist and notes below the cut.

Help I'm Alive - Metric

Narrator: As you wake, the tadpole squirms in your skull.

Army Of Me - Bjork

Lae'zel: Who am I? Your only chance of survival. Now move. You are wasting time.

The Wolf - PHILDEL

Shadowheart: Most people fear the dark, like children, because in darkness they see their fears reflected. But Shar teaches us to step beyond fear. Beyond loss. In darkness we do not hide - we act.

Icarus - Bastille

Gale: "What if," I thought, "What if after all this time, I could return this lost part of herself to the goddess?" You know me. My gestures can never be grand enough.

The Devil Is A Gentleman - Merci Raines

Astarion: On my honour, the only thing on my mind is depraved, carnal lust.

Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) - Emily Browning

Dream Guardian: There is great potential in you. It comes from that parasite. Your instinct is to resist the power it gives, but you must accept it, nurture it. I will keep it from consuming you. But for the sake of both of us, you must learn to wield it.

I Am The Fire - Halestorm

Karlach: Avernus was never my home. It was my prison. I'm free now. AND I'M NEVER. GOING. BACK.

Woke Up A Rebel - Reuben and The Dark

Wyll: Gods damn her straight back to the Hells. Just look at me. I did what was right. And Mizora made me pay for it.

The Curse - Agnes Obel

Halsin: There is a terrible curse surrounding Moonrise Towers, a shadow curse that drains away all light and life. That place is where the cultists send their captives, to be infected. Innocents go in, True Souls come out.

Don't Fear The Reaper - Blue Oyster Cult

Gale: The truth is, I was living on borrowed time already. Consuming those items would only have kept the orb sated for so long. If anything, I feel more at peace than I have in months. At least I know my death will have purpose. It won't be a distant bang in the footnotes of history.

Queer - Garbage

Astarion: He had me go out into Baldur's Gate to fetch him the most beautiful souls I could find. It was a fun little ritual of his - I'd bring them back and he'd ask if I wanted to dine with him. And if I said yes, he'd serve me a dead, putrid rat. Of course if I said no, he'd have me flayed. Hard to say which was worse.

Wrong Side Of Heaven - Five Finger Death Punch

Lae'zel: Vlaakith! I have wielded your fury as a blade, roared your wrath as a dragon! You promised ascension, yet I crawl among my own people, low as an asp's belly. I followed your path. What good, this heart of stone, for it to be shattered?

Bad Moon Rising - Satin Puppets/Nxghtshade

Jaheira: I have every reason to be cautious. I've traced people like you, people with parasites in their brains, all the way here from Baldur's Gate. We tracked them to this ancient village only to be faced with a man we killed and buried over a century ago.

Goodbye - Ramsey

Karlach: Listen. You heard Dammon. There is no solution. It's Hell or bust. I choose bust.

Wicked Game - Boyce Avenue

Astarion: Look. I had a plan. A nice, simple plan. Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. It was easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you. Which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart.

Losing My Religion - BELLSAINT

Shadowheart: I... I can't believe I just did that. Lady Shar will disown me.

Battlefield - SVRCINA

Dame Aylin: Our Lady of Silver. Hear me! She Who Guides, the Moonmaiden Selune, mother of the so-called Nightsong. THE NIGHTSONG IS NO MORE!

O Death - Bobby Bass/Lauren Paley/Colm R. McGuiness

Ketheric Thorm: Join the army of the dead, True Soul. Witness Lord Myrkul's glory!

In The Wind - Lord Huron

Halsin: Oliver is helping Thaniel to recover. They both lie dormant, like trees awaiting spring. I would like to return here someday - see Thaniel and Oliver again, in my meditations, or perhaps in person, if the Oak Father wills it. I hope he does.

Flesh And Bone - Black Math

Wyll: He returned to an unsuspecting city and a wayward son with a smirking devil at his side. I tried to tell him the truth, but my mouth couldn't form the words. I led him to the battlefield, but Mizora had swept it clean. I showed him my stone eye, but he only turned away. After, he said only one word. "Go."

Nothing Is As It Seems - Hidden Citizens/Ruelle

The Emperor: Before you do anything, I am your ally.

Red Right Hand - Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds

Duke Ravenguard: Enver Gortash. The Council appoints you Archduke of Baldur's Gate.

I Will Not Bow - Breaking Benjamin

Lae'zel: Forsake one protocol and forsake Vlaakith. Forsate Vlaakith, and be the blood and meat which sates her dragons. If Voss speaks true, if ascension is a lie, if tadpole purification is a fairy tale, then I have not sinned against Vlaakith. She has sinned against me.

Broken Mirror - Trees of Eternity

Astarion: Back at the ritual, all I could see was the power on offer and the safety it promised. I was so blinded by it. Just as Cazador was. You saved me from myself and let me walk a new path where I can be free. Truly, honestly free.

Three - Sleeping At Last

Gale: I've work ahead of me before I'll feel myself truly redeemed of the damage I caused. But I intend to try.

Mind Games - Sickick

The Emperor: I studied you. Your motivations, your actions, your desires. I deduced the best way to align your goals with my own. I anticipated the challenge, and I anticipated your resistance. What I didn't anticipate was how much I would enjoy your company. Your mind.

Hamsters - King Missile

Minsc: I have no idea what any of that was about. But we shall simply - GAH! Boo, why do you gnaw at my soft parts? I am trying to... *urgent squeaking* Once again? In smaller words? *SQUEAK!* I see.

Soldier - Fleurie

Jaheira: You twine your life around the people you love. And when they are gone, you grow around their absence instead. Which is my sage way of saying I am in no danger of forgetting how my husband died. But I choose to remember how he lived.

I Come With Knives - IAMX

Orin: Did it think it could protect? Did it think it could save? Only the blades can offer salvation.

Never Look Away - Vienna Teng

Shadowheart: She's as much a part of who I am as Jenevelle. I can't just forget her, that's not what I do anymore. Besides, Shadowheart still suits me - even better than before, perhaps. You can't cast a shadow without some light.

Heroes - Mans Zelmerlow

Wyll: When I left the city, my father saw only a boy carrying the stench of the Hells. Now, he sees the man I made of myself.

Raphael's Final Act - Boris Slavov

Raphael: It is said that hope is a fine breakfast, but a poor supper. Well, the shadows grow long, and the hour is late. It's suppertime.

King Nothing - Metallica

Gortash: I'm not here for games. Hand me the stones, or face the black hand of Lord Bane.

Legends Never Die - Against The Current

Karlach: I'm dying. My heart feels like a live grenade - gonna blow any minute. If this is the end for me, let me be the motherfucker who saved the world.

Seven Devils - Florence + The Machine

Narrator: You feel it - a sudden shift. The brain is weakening, its grasp of self slipping. This is your chance.

First Light - Hozier

Astarion: I can't say what the future holds for us, but I know we'll be facing it together. And we're going to have a lot of fun.

[tehjai]

media nox, obscura nox (also on AO3)

(Spoilers for the conclusion of Astarion's personal story through to Act 3. )

Astarion is free. He's down for a night of passion. The camera pans away from Astarion and Ariane in the graveyard, and this is what happened that night. Tags: Vampires, Blood Drinking, missionary in the graveyard with the lights off, Vaginal Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Love, Monks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

The weeds and ivies that Astarion had brushed away from the sole monument to his existence were now sticking into Ariane's back; the flower she'd put down for him was likewise crushed beneath her, mixing in with the scent of sweat and sex and by the Gods, here they were. For a few long, lurid moments she could not speak as she laid in the grass, thighs parting automatically at the barest nudge of his knees. Astarion pressed himself to her and his cool, satiny lips were locked with hers–

"You–" Ariane tilted her head back, breaking the kiss and trying not to laugh at his momentary disappointed whine, "weren't kidding, were you? When you said you were in the mood." She rolled her hips up, a playful motion, to find that her panting vampire paramour was hard as iron beneath his trousers. She drew back just slightly, grinning up at him when she noticed.

Maybe if he could blush, he would have been doing so, but all she had to go by was the soft, desirous look in his eyes. He scoffed dramatically. "I am a man of embellishments, darling, but I am no liar."

"Good, because damn if I don't want this as badly as you might…"

"I did say I wanted you, my sweet, and all of you besides." For a moment Astarion sat back on his haunches, to drink in the sight: this lithe, powerful woman (his choice, his lover) whose mismatched green eyes were still locked on his. There was no shortage of depraved, carnal lust therein, but even a fool could see the tenderness in her gaze.

"I don't want to hurt you," she admitted. "So if it's too much, just–"

Ariane saw in him what he so desperately wanted to be, but she also cared enough to say these things when she was but two unlaced pairs of breeches away from the cock she truly wanted the most (she had told him this that night she'd come back from her tryst with the druid, gently laying her head along his lap so he could easily feed from her neck, relaying every sordid detail to him because she'd promised him they wouldn't keep these odd sorts of secrets), and it was something he found so unfathomably selfless that it left a lump in his throat.

He didn’t immediately respond, though he did glance down at her and grin by way of acknowledgement before moving to crawl over her once more, spending a few more blissful moments with her lips against his.

"Oh, sweet, generous Ariane," he finally said, and maybe his voice was cracking, maybe he wasn't the suave seductor he once was any longer, but Astarion found that he didn't care, "you could never hurt me. You could never be too much."

"I also want to be enough for you." Her voice pitched high as his cool, dexterous hand wormed its way down the front of her trousers. He moved so achingly slowly, his red eyes crinkling and a fanged grin spreading across his face as his fingertips met the wet heat of her folds.

She was warm - so warm, a marked contrast of sensation against his skin; that feeling of life that he would never feel within himself again. Still moving slowly, he used two fingers to spread her open, giving space for his thumb to graze gently over her clit.

Her hips lifted to meet his hand, and she ground herself against him, gasping. She felt alive, and he felt it through her. “I know I’m not ideal–”

"Well, darling, you're certainly wet enough," Astarion murmured, leaning in to breathe his next words against her neck: "And don’t sell yourself short – you always were enough for me." He placed a line of kisses up her delectable brown neck before his fingers below finally found their way into her cunt– “Am I enough for you, you insatiable little thing?”

“Yes–” Elegant was the only word for what he was doing to her, despite his hand being so constrained: he pressed the heel of his hand against her mound and worked against her like some kind of bardic virtuoso on a lute – the sensations of his stroking both inside and out coming in shocking waves that hit her from head to toe, as though the very ki in her body was resonating alongside him. And he did it all while smiling at her with fangs hooked over his bottom lip, for what seemed like an astonishingly pleasurable eternity.

And then Astarion did something with those skilled fingers and Gods only knew what it was, and the resonance seemed to break and give way to a sudden, unexpected climax that left her squirming beneath him, her fingers grasping at the grass.

He stroked at her until she stopped writhing about, kissing her forehead affectionately. “You’re very easy to read, you know.” The words were out of his mouth before their likeness to habits past dawned on him. It sounded too much like an old line. He sucked in air through his teeth and winced slightly.

She sighed, her inquisitive eyes heavy-lidded, slowly bringing her breathing under control. It was the moment where he found her to be the most beautiful. “Only because I let you right in. You were invited.” His heart soared and he knew then that he was doing this for her. For them.

Another first, it seemed, between him and Ariane.

"Thank you," Astarion whispered, taking his hand back from between her legs so he could push her trousers down and out of the way, then loosen his to finally free his aching cock and enter her, gently yet urgently, "for waiting."

She arched her back, grabbing greedily at his ass, utterly radiant beneath him, an odd thing to consider when she was laid out upon his grave in the moonlight. Being with her filled him with all those ever-present lusts but there was something else there, blazing like the sun that he would inevitably end up needing to hide away from again some day. If this was love - and it was, even if it was complicated and unorthodox - he certainly did love her. Perhaps most remarkably of all, he was free to do so simply because it was what he wanted.

"Astarion–" Her voice was tinged with desire and reverence both, and it made him gasp.

"You are perfect, Ariane," was the only rejoinder that he could muster before instinct took hold, but no longer was it desperate. Now he sought his pleasure against hers in equal measure, languidly thrusting into her while untying her shirt, exposing her whipcord muscles and deliciously pert breasts. "So perfect," he repeated, leaning down to tongue at her nipples and grinning broadly when she gasped, "and so responsive for me."

All those times he had asked her if she wanted to lose herself in him, and now he found that he was lost in her. With an idle grunt he doffed his shirt, intent on holding her closer against his bare chest – anything at all to feel more of her. Perhaps she knew him better than he did. Perhaps she just wanted the same thing he did, but before he could gather her against him she was already there, rolling her hips, spreading her thighs, and she might have whispered in his ear for more but she was running her fingers down his throat and his bare chest and he couldn’t comprehend anything in the moment except his desires to both ravage her and to weep for the tenderness of her touch and the absolute filth falling from her lips.

"Do you have," she grunted, "any idea how good your cock feels?"

"Why, I do not," Astarion intoned, hands and tongue by now wandering all over her body as he fucked her. "Enlighten me, my sweet."

Ariane looked up at him, her eyes a little glassy. "I– you– I'm filled up just right and you move like a fucking dancer and Gods you're the one I want most!" Her words were interspersed with moans and the more she spoke the deeper and faster he moved. "I love you. Nothing feels the way you do."

A salacious, carefree smile spread over his face and he drew back to take one of her legs in hand and to push it against her chest, his other hand grasping at her waist as he tried, perhaps futilely, to fuck her deeper. She was tight, and lithe, and fit, and the old reflexes he was worried about were absent this time – he wanted this in a way he’d never wanted anything before. This was emotion and instinct and love and his desire to give her more and to keep her satisfied because he wanted to make her happy. "Gods, to hear you say that–"

"I mean it." Ariane was panting with the exertion of it all, moving as best as she could with how he’d folded her up beneath him, her hands gripping his biceps to give her leverage. “Everything I’ve ever said, I meant it.”

Sighing, Astarion pressed his forehead to hers, momentarily distracted from speaking by how good it felt to be inside of her. "I know. And I love you all the same."

"It’s good, right?"

"It’s exquisite. You’re exquisite." he whispered. “I– it’s been awhile, darling, and I–” Gods, he was close, on the cusp of losing himself in the feeling of being with her. It was almost shocking how quickly all of his old hurts could be… not eliminated, but certainly set to the side, under the right circumstances. With the right person.

Ariane laughed, her arms moving to slide around his shoulders, eyes locking with his. She licked her lips and pitched her head back. "Don’t hold back. You can always have a snack, and we can go again if you want.”

A desperate sound left his throat, the rhythm of his thrusts faltering. It still perplexed him that she was so at-ease with all of his… idiosyncrasies. "Anything to get me to bite you." Well, it certainly was his nature. "How naughty."

Her cunt practically gushed when he said it, and that left him reeling in the most pleasant of ways. "Yeah. But I also want you to embrace exactly who you are. Because I do. I love everything you are. Take what you need from me."

His lips found her neck instinctually; she had been allowing this from the start, and the smell of her skin, her blood, her sex threatened to overwhelm him. He had nothing to say to her, just a few featherlight kisses against her neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist, a clear invitation. Astarion made a soft, affirmative noise against her skin, bared his teeth, and bit down.

And he was utterly lost the second her blood hit his tongue. The moan she let out was so deliciously depraved and her cunt clamped down on him so tightly that he didn't get to eat all that long; a monastic mastery of body, he realized, meant that she could make him come so hard that he couldn’t help but cry out; as a result, his grip on her loosened and his fangs let go of her neck.

Ariane didn't seem to notice as he sputtered to a stop and pulled out of her; she seemed entirely pleased and sated by the whole sequence of events. She was left trembling beneath him on her back in the dirt. She looked utterly debauched, her chest still heaving as she brought her breathing under control, her thighs still laid open in the moonlight, her folds still gleaming with her arousal and his seed both. Despite all of that, Astarion could not tear his eyes away from the puncture wounds on her neck. They were still open, streaking her neck with two tantalizing rivulets of blood.

After a few long, dazed moments she let out a soft groan, sitting up and shifting so that her back rested against his headstone. Arching an eyebrow, she touched fingers to her neck, seemingly realizing he'd left her bleeding, but merely observed her fingertips for a moment, and then–

Often, she would demur that she was too inexperienced to have any luck at actually seducing someone - the reason she had, for a moment earlier, seen herself as not ideal - and Astarion refused to believe it when she raised her bloody fingertips to her lips, locked eyes with him, and daintily licked herself clean.

It was probably the most sexy thing he'd ever seen any of his lovers do. And yet if he didn't do something about it, she was going to bleed out on him. He gasped audibly, horror and arousal equally noticeable in his expression. "Darling, I didn't mean–"

"Hey," she said, pulling him closer, offering her neck to him once more, "I'm pretty sure that was my fault. I'm sorry. If it helps, that was a pretty good return to form." Ariane laughed, sliding her open shirt down to her elbows. "But I'd rather not bleed out stuff you didn't eat. Get to it." Her smile was warm. Playful. Accepting.

"You," Astarion said, grinning, "can still surprise me." She was carding fingers through his curls, humming softly while he lapped at her neck, rejoicing in the invigorating feeling that every sip afforded him.

She really was a safe place for him to land.

"Well, it would be horrid if you found me boring."

[thedevilsmemes]

ASTARION ANCUNIN QUOTES ~ BALDUR'S GATE 3 SENTENCE MEME!

"Hello, darling. Don't be shy, I promise I not to bite until we've been formally introduced."

"The tadpole's influence broke his dominance over me, and now I can finally pursue the one thing I've hungered for these long dark years."

"I'll be the last thing the bastard ever sees."

"Given that my choices were 'eternal life' or 'bleed to death on the street', I took him up on the offer."

"It was only afterwards I realized just how long 'eternity' could be."

"By the Hells. Sex, my dear. A night of passion."

"I'm out of wine and flowers, so I hope an introduction will suffice."

"And I wish I was drinking out of the skull of everyone who's ever wronged me. Life is tough."

"I've been waiting. Waiting since the moment I laid eyes on you. Waiting... to have you."

"Yes darling, that's what we call a lie."

"All I want is a little fun, is that so much to ask?"

"Why hello. Welcome to my humble party."

"Oh, we're lying to each other now? Excellent."

"But... you're no stranger now. Just strange."

"I hate it. This is awful."

"Wait! Don't interrupt them. Let me do it. They sound disgusting."

"I don't know, I'm sure a vampire spawn could still rip out your heart."

"My, My. Who knew our friend had so much blood in them?"

"Oh, you're such a sweetheart."

"I'm just glad you're being sensible about these revelations. I was worried people might turn up with torches and pitchforks."

"Although, there's still time."

"I already apologised. What more do you want? Unless you're looking for another nibble?"

"Yes, darling? Do you need something?"

"What in the sweet hells were you THINKING activating that lance, I was right there!"

"Next time? No no no, if there is a 'next time' I'll be the one aiming the all-powerful weapon."

"Although, I do appreciate you trying to fix your mistake, just don't do it again!"

"It's just that I happen to be a... what's the best way to put this? A vampire?"

"Oh my honour, the only thing on my mind, is depraved carnal lust."

"You couldn't wait ten seconds before being an absolute freak."

"Oh, good, puns. Because clowns aren't enough of a horror already."

"What? Was it something I said?"

"Really? - Anything in particular?"

"Now, I can't help but notice that one of us is positively drenched in blood. So..."

"At least the smut peddlers of Sharass' Caress will have a field day writing erotic verse about us when we're both dead."

"Hundreds? Urgh, it'll take hours to kill them all. She/He's right, we should just go."

"Oh? Then what do you want?"

"Five seconds into this relationship and I already want to break up with you."

"Oh the one hand, killing Gortash will be fun. On the other, Halsin can be very annoying."

"The man can't stay quiet about 'enjoying the freedom of nature's gifts'. I bet he'd outlaw clothing if he could."

"Good Morning. Thank you for not killing me the other night."

"Of course, what fun! I'm going to fucking kill you."

"I am. And beautiful - not enough people mention that."

"Hmm. Hmm. Thank you for helping me. It was very kind."

"I can't even tell if any of you are acting strange because you've been replaced or because this group is full of weirdos!"

"So... I was wondering if maybe - perhaps - you might be able to..."

"Can you read what's on my damn back? Please?"

"Well, hello... Looking for a cuddle?"

"What are you? No. We are not jumping down there!"

"Oh - eh - Hello again?"

"Easy now. Let's not do anything Hilarious."

"You have a manner of irresistible desperation about you. I like it."

"I'd trust a devil over a vampire any day. I think he likes us."

"Oh, bravo! Encore!"

"Why she sounds positively demented."

"I love it! let's tell her everything!"

"Don't be touchy. I'm sure he meant 'better off dead' as a compliment."

"I'd shake her hand, but she can still snap me in two, so... probably safest to skip it."

"Anyway, it's a brand new day. I'm sure we'll find lots of people for you to kill."

"I must see this. Don't you dare say no."

"Well, this seems like a lovely little spot. The sense of impending doom aside."

"I suppose it was only a matter of time until [ insert name ] took vengeance."

"For the Lady/Lord of loss, She/He does not like losing."

"Come to kill me again, darling?"

"Guilty as charged. Sometimes literally."

"What? No! Don't you dare! This isn't funny!"

"Huh, thank goodness, I was almost worried."

"Nice as it is, she still doesn't have the best hair in the camp."

"Well, I mean... kind of? It's a long story, honestly."

"You'll get back to me? This is important, devil! When?"

"It's not enough we have a gallery of villains to look out for, but now we could be infiltrated by a shapechanger?"

"But you're serious about this? About... us?"

"Tailor's mannequins? I never figured [ insert name ] for a follower of fashion."

"Well done again on besting Baal and all that. It was very twee."

"You filthy devil. I'm shocked."

"Haha! That's - Oh, you're serious."

"Well, of course we can leave him, it's the easiest thing in the world. We just have to keep on walking."

"Well, at least you purr for me..."

"The thing that will decide my fate forevermore? Yes, it has been on my mind, why?"

"Who knows how long before the others go feral without us there to guide them?"

"Let. Me. Go! - Ah... Hello!"

"No, as much as I'd like to become a Lord, ruling over the Underdark's vampire spawn, we have unfinished business with the mind flayers."

"I'm glad you had your fun then. I am here to provide an endless array of delights."

[tadpole-apocalypse]

Ok now that I’ve had a chance to play all the way through Morgan’s game to the epilogue and work on her story in my head, I’ve got some new ideas for how I intend the story and romance to proceed.

Act 1 - very early game

Morgan knew something was off about Astarion from the beginning. All of the other tadpoled brains in their party had minds that she could skim surface thoughts and feelings from to determine threats to herself. But her magic bounced off of him with no impressions...unless she uses her tadpole. But she's still getting used to being connected to a hivemind with all the others and can't go digging in his head with the finesse she is accustomed to; it's all clumsy and obvious and they can tell right away when the tadpole is being forcibly used to read into the other's mind. (And everyone gets mad when she tries)

Even without doing it deliberately they do still get impressions of the other’s thoughts and feelings over the mind link. And his seem normal to her considering their situation, except that she cannot use detect thoughts on him and it pisses her off.

When she caught him at her neck the third night, she forcibly used her tadpole on him because she thought she was about to be attacked. She saw and felt echos of what he felt, the pain of a never ending hunger, the disgusting slide of coagulated vermin blood down his throat and the barest amount of satiety it brought. The entire conversation he made himself as small and pathetic as he could and it worked on her; she pitied him.

To Astarion's delight, she knew nothing of vampires other than what she'd read in tawdry publications. She believed him when he said he would only need a little of her blood. He wasn't anything monstrous that she could see, just had peculiar diet needs. Now she understood he had a condition that prevented her from reading his mind and she was able to relax around him. The vampire thirsting for her blood.

(Shadowheart eventually has the vampire talk with her)

Astarion at this point thought Morgan was a naive idiot. For willingly offering her neck like the fools who showed up at Cazador’s front door begging for his dark gift, and while she didn’t go out of her way to help others, she could be swayed by the occasional sob story and then waylay them for days off on some unprofitable venture she swore would only be a trifle to deal with. He resented having to tag along to all of it, especially once they knew they had to stay in range of the artifact to keep their minds. He had to stay with this group because he’d lose himself either to the Absolute or to Cazador if he left on his own. And he had to get her on his side (in love with him would be even better).

He didn’t find her looks particularly attractive (he has elvish beauty ideals and also Cazador’s twisted beauty standards in his brain, he’s a dumb idiot bastard man) but her naiveté towards what he was was too enticing for him. And useful. She had experience being pursued by random men for sex and was stone faced to his usual sweet talk. But she still responded to his flirtations anyways and was eager to see if he lived up to his boasts about his sexual prowess, and then was pleasantly surprised to see that he did indeed. It was a welcome reprieve from the constant threat of death they faced each day, and he was nicer to her and bitched less about her decisions, at least to her face.

No one caught feelings yet, this was just depraved carnal lust as far as both are concerned, or at least what Morgan assumes is the case for him as well. She doesn’t know or pick up on his ulterior motives because she assumes his motivations are sex and blood. This early in the game he is still vague about his slavery and Morgan does not stop to really think about it; she assumes he was in some kind of shitty servitude arrangement; not a continuous, torturous hell he had no escape from.

She won’t really comprehend that until much later into Act 2 dealing with his scars.

Next part - Tiefling party, and Morgan’s sexuality thoughts 🤭

[sakumasmut]

from 🌊

all the fanservice stuff in the anni events... if you never hear from me again it's because i'm dead and hibiki wataru's cuteness killed me. do not prosecute him though he did nothing wrong. but like i actually desire him so bad it's fucking insane. i understand eichi. i too would start a war for the chance to get cock from a theater kid who is silly

makes me think about how his entire life is putting on a show and trying to entertain others, and while he delights in being the clown it sometimes comes at the cost of his most sincere feelings and expression. he implies this in his conversation with tomoya at the end of the phantom thieves vs detectives something or other event (! era) where he says he once "performed the greatest trick ever" but no one was entertained because they didn't understand it. it makes me so emo i just want to hold him and kiss his sweet handsome face and let him tell me everything he really thinks and feels and,,,, i would apologize for being a wataru simp on your blog but i'm not actually sorry lmao he's cute and i adore him

i also think a lot about something you or an anon said about him being more in control when he's subbing and less when he's dommjng... that's so real because when he's the sub (or sometimes the dom depending on the scenario) he's focusing on you, and no matter how intense it gets he's usually stable and can control the situation because he's in his comfort zone. but when the focus is on him, whether you do something for him or give him permission to take what he wants from you, he kinda doesn't know what to do. he's not used to it, and he gets lost in the moment pretty quickly. moaning and whining without holding back, holding you and fucking you over and over in every way he can think of, he looks and sounds so pathetic because he is. this is what you to do him, you're the only one who can reduce him to this depraved, lustful being driven by passion and carnal instinct. he can go at it for hours, no matter how tired or overstimulated he gets he just can't stop. even when he's cumming dry, it feels too good to quit.

normally his aftercare is god tier but not in this case, when he finally snaps out of his trance he's so exhausted that he can only do the bare minimum to clean you up before he passes out. even though he's sore all over and thoroughly drained the next morning, he doesn't regret a thing. he showed you how he really feels and you weren't just okay with it, you accepted every last bit of it. he couldn't ask for anything better 🥹

awww there’s something cute about him fucking you silly until he’s actually exhausted, like a puppy that wants to give you all his attention. definitely would like to see him let himself go for a night, no acts or anything just lust

[astarionfreak]

Me: I'll tag this with eventual smut because who knows when they'll finally get around to it.

Also me: Hahahahaha we've waited long enough. Sex pollen time.

Teaser for chapter 3 of The blood on your hands is mine

// Astarion x Wren (Fem!Durge)

“Oh.” Wren gasped. Even something as simple as his fingers curled around her wrists sent a wave of pleasure cascading across her body. “I seem to remember you offering me a night of depraved, carnal lust. Can I finally take you up on that?”

Even through her lust-fueled haze, Wren noticed Astarion frown. “I’m not sure if that’s the brightest idea. Ethically speaking.”

“What can I say to convince you?”

“I’m sure you’d say anything to get what you want in your current state,” Astarion said.

“Please, Astarion.” She squirmed, trying to get closer to him. “I want you. I wanted you that night. Now, I need you. Please.”

Astarion held impossibly still, but there was something in his eyes that let Wren know begging was having some sort of effect. If begging worked, would jealousy?

“If you won’t have your way with me, maybe I should find Wyll?”

Astarion laughed. “Wyll? Really, Wren? He’s far too pure to take advantage of you like this.”

Wren growled softly. “Fine. Gale then?”

Oh. That struck a nerve. Astarion spun Wren to face his tent, pinned her arms behind her back, and pushed her inside. He kept his grip on her tight as the tent flap fell shut behind them.

Wren shifted to press her back against Astarion’s firm chest. Anything for more contact.

He made a frustrated noise. “Wren.”

“Astarion.” She whimpered and tried to get closer.

Astarion released her wrists and wrapped his arms around her — holding her body tight against his chest. “Do you want Gale to fuck you, Wren?” His lips ghosted over the shell of her ear.

Her heart slammed against her ribcage and that ache between her legs grew more intense. “Use our connection. Go in my mind. See for yourself.”

Wren was too overtaken by her desperate need for contact, for him, to realize how risky this offer was. As long as she stayed focused on sex, hopefully, he wouldn’t see any of her other — more dangerous — fantasies.

So, instead, she focused on the first night she masturbated while thinking about him. Then, she opened her mind. She waited for the telltale squirming in her brain before letting the fantasy play out.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

All The Things Love Could Be

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 671 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: Astarion trying to be manipulative, waltzing, drinking, soft Astarion, brief mention of Cazador

--------------

“On my honor, the only thing on my mind is depraved carnal lust.” Astarion said with confidence.

You smiled softly, “Liar.”

Astarions face dropped, “Excuse me?” 

He sounded offended.

You softly took two goblets from the table and gingerly poured a sweet red wine for you both. 

“I think you forget these tadpoles connect us. I know you use sex as a manipulative tactic… but I also know that’s not your fault. I’m so sorry Cazador used you like that… for so long.” you said, passing one of the goblets to Astarion before taking a swig of your own. “Don’t get me wrong, you are beautiful, and I can’t deny the feelings I have for you, but I won’t use you. Not like that, not ever. If you want something you need but ask, you don’t have to repay me using sex. You don’t have to repay me period. Helping you makes me happy, that’s all I need.” 

You looked into Astarion’s eyes and they were so soft, looking closer you could see tears brimming in his eyes. He was speechless, a rare thing for him to be.

You smiled at him softly, stepping closer to him. He looked down at you, tears finally falling. You raised your hand to his face, gently brushing the tears away with your thumb before tilting his chin up ever so slightly so his eyes met yours. He searched your gaze before letting out a cough. Staggering back, he let his hand caress your arm until it softly held your hand. You gave it a soft squeeze, letting him know you were there for him. 

“I don’t recall the last time somebody turned me down for sex.” He paused, “I… um… thank you.” he said with an air of disbelief about him. He regained his seductive facade in no time. Turning away from you and sauntering off into the depths of the tiefling party. You watched him go. 

-----------------

The night dragged on and sleep eluded you. Only a few remained awake at this hour. The drunk bard continued to play soft melodies. You sat near the fire, watching the flames dance and sputter, crackling with life. Astarion sat next to you gently, you hadn’t even heard him walk up. 

“Hey.” you said softly, unsure how he would be around you after what you said earlier. 

“Hello little love.” he said, sounding surprisingly sincere. 

You started swaying back and forth, the bard played a waltz you knew all too well. You may not have been royalty before this ordeal but you were… highly refined for your station as a lower noble. Your parents insisted. Astarion chuckled watching you. He set his bottle of wine down, standing. He bowed before offering you his hand. Your eyes gleamed, you had missed this bit of normalcy. Astarion danced you around slowly, gently. A dance with a well acquainted partner was always easy and smooth. He spun you away from him before pulling you back and dipping you. The music faded and your little moment with it. He pulled you back so you were standing. He kissed the back of your hand. 

“Thank you for the lovely dance.” you said, smiling widely. You hesitated for a moment before throwing caution to the wind. Your hands rested on his shoulders as you gave him a brief peck on the cheek. 

“Thank you… for everything.” he said, his round eyes making a rare appearance. He walked you to your tent, holding your hand the whole way. “Goodnight little love, sleep well.” he squeezed your hand before walking to his own tent. 

You smiled as you settled in for the night. You could never hurt him, but maybe you could show him love didn’t have to be rough. It didn’t have to be lust and self degradation. It could be sweet. It could be kind and gentle. You wanted to show him, and in time, if he consented to it - you would be happy to show him all the things love could be.

--------------

Naboo's Note:

In the mood to write dribbles today I guess. I hope you guys like them and as always - thank you so much for the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! Ilysm <3 xoxoxoxo

[wheretheharekissesthefox]

Bon appétit - Chapter 8: Funfetti

[Astarion/Gale]

It's 2 a.m., Gale's tired and wants some food. Astarion, the cute barista/waiter at the Emerald Grove knows how to sate his cravings.

Trigger warning (18+): Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, No Magic, No Vampire, No Wizard, Graphic Description of Sex, Smut, Anal Sex, Cum Eating, Cum Feeding, Fellatio, Fingering, Rimming, Food Porn, Unrealistic Refractory, Improvised Lube & Sex toys (don't try this at home kids), Waiter Astarion, Professor Gale, Depraved Carnal Lust

Fair warning: In this chapter, I fully embraced the @patheticfangirl Aesthetic™ (food porn, cum eating, cum feeding, stuffing food in various orifices, etc.). Enjoy (?) the questionable debauchery.

P.S. The author advises against most of these sexual practices. Please, use real sex toys with flared bases as well as actual lube (water-based is best because it won't damage the silicone of condoms and toys).

With a groan, Gale buried his face in his hands. He was doing the taxes and things didn't look good. If this would go on for another year, the situation would truly become dire. Gale really didn't want to think about that. He was grateful when he got a text message from Astarion, asking to be picked up from work. With creaking knees, Gale got up and left the paperwork behind.

The Emerald Grove's green neon sign welcomed him from afar as Gale parked at the side of the road. He quickly walked into the alley, pelted by the sleety rain, and pushed open the door to greet his fiancé. Astarion was already waiting for him, the café/bistro spotless and ready to be closed for the night.

"You're done early," Gale remarked. "It's only midnight."

"I know. I'm so happy about that," grinned Astarion and kissed him hello. "I have an idea."

"Oh-oh," chuckled Gale teasingly.

"I already prepared my weapons of choice," his partner announced, gesturing at a neat lineup of things on the counter. The brunet snorted a laugh.

"I think you have a food kink. It's always vegetables."

"And, on one lovely occasion, a red-cheeked apple," Astarion snickered, wiggling his brows suggestively. Smiling, Gale rolled his eyes at him.

"You're a menace."

"You love me."

"Obviously."

"Did you do what I asked you to?" Astarion purred. Blushing a tad, Gale nodded.

"Yes."

"Show me."

Astarion's pupils were blown, a slight flush had crept into his pale cheeks. Obediently, Gale unzipped his trousers, shoved them down to his knees, bent over the nearest table, and spread his legs to put his well-prepared hole on display. Almost reverently, Astarion ran his hands across his fiancé's buttocks.

"You are a vision, my love," he murmured. "Beautiful. Utterly breathtaking." He probed at the pink hole and was happy with the way three of his fingers could easily sink in without any resistance. "You prepared yourself well, love. All for me." He licked a long stripe up between those plush cheeks, making Gale groan. "I'm blessed." Then, Astarion drew back and patted Gale's hips to tell him to straighten up. He pulled the brunet into a kiss before gesturing towards the thick blanket on the ground. "Come on. Make yourself comfortable."

How considered of him to think about Gale's knees. Contently, the latter toed off his shoes and got rid of his trousers and boxershorts before sitting onto the blanket.

"How do you want me? Direct me," Gale asked, smiling softly. Instead of answering, Astarion kneeled and pulled him into a ferocious kiss.

"Why are you so perfect?" he murmured. "God, I fucking love you." He leaned in for another messy kiss. "Get on your hands and knees, love."

Gale did as he was told, dutifully, and was rewarded with a third kiss.

"I'll spoil you tonight," Astarion said. "I'll show you things you've never seen. We'll have a feast, my love. First, an appetizer."

Swiftly, he got up, walked over to the counter and grabbed the first two items. Curiously, Gale glanced at him over his shoulder. Astarion came back with a small ceramic bowl. After kneeling back down, he dipped his fingers into it, watching how the clear fluid dripped down.

"What's that?" Gale asked curiously.

"Bacon grease," his fiancé answered with a shit-eating grin. "Collected over the course of the entire day by yours truly. Strained and warmed up to spoil you and make you taste like a piece of juicy pork belly. I cannot wait to eat you right up, my love."

With these words, Astarion pushed his grease-covered fingers into Gale's ass and fucked him this way for a few seconds, dipping the digits into the liquid bacon grease anew each time he pulled them out. Gale was moaning wantonly, arching his back sluttily. Astarion absolutely loved it. It was driving him wild.

"Fuck, you're so hot."

He gently bit Gale's left ass cheek before pulling his fingers out, spreading him apart, and eating him out. The brunet cried out in ecstasy, fisting the blanket, and shoved his ass into his partner's face. Groaning happily, Astarion pushed his tongue in as far as he could, licking the bacon grease off, before he drew back to suck on the rim. Gale's breath hitched and he whimpered as his torso collapsed onto the floor. He spread his legs wider to wordlessly beg for more. Astarion kept licking and sucking his hole with possessive, little growls while digging his fingers into the ample buttocks to keep them spread. Gale's eyes rolled back and he wished Astarion would never stop as he panted, mewled, and drooled. His gut clenched and he wasn't even able to utter a warning before he came, spilling against the swell of his own belly and the soft blanket. With a litany of moans, Gale's legs gave in and he collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air. Astarion licked his lips like he'd devoured a greasy, juicy burger instead of ass.

"Now, you're ready for the appetizer."

"That wasn't the appetizer?" rasped Gale, still out of breath, and Astarion snickered.

"No, my love. The appetizer’s a cheese stick."

The blond guided the brunet back onto his knees, whipped out the white, tube-shaped item, dipped it into the bacon grease, and carefully inserted it into Gale's ass. The latter gasped in shock.

"Cold!"

"Yeah, I put it in the freezer in the hopes that it would keep its shape that way. It wouldn't be fun if the cheese stick breaks while I fuck you with it."

Gale barked a nervous laugh. Astarion started to slowly fuck him with the cheese stick. It was rather uncomfortable; too cold and the shape was weird.

"Not your thing, hm?" Astarion remarked, clearly able to sense Gale's discomfort.

"No, it's - it feels weird. Itchy. And the cold hurts," mumbled Gale with his head pressed into the blanket. For some reason, he was ashamed. He so desperately wanted to please his partner and it felt like he was failing him. But all those negative feelings vanished when Astarion placed a kiss on Gale's tailbone and whispered: "It's okay. You're doing so well, love. We'll move on to the salad."

He sped over to the counter and grabbed the next 'meal'.

"My veg of choice," Astarion grinned, wiggling the cucumber around, making Gale snicker.

"Zucchinis, cucumbers, cheese sticks... What else do you want to shove up my ass?" the latter asked and snorted amused when his fiancé answered: "Anything that's vaguely phallic-shaped."

"Really? Even a cactus?" Astarion's pondering silence was concerning. "Please not a cactus," Gale said faintly, suddenly rather worried about his anus' well-being.

"Of course not, love," Astarion replied hastily. "The only prickly thing that goes inside you is me."

Gale laughed so hard, the cheese stick got ejected from his hole like a missile from a NERF gun.

"You ruined my appetizer," tsked Astarion, but couldn't hold back a snicker. "Well, I promised you to move on to the salad anyway."

He lubed up the cucumber with the bacon grease before fucking Gale with it, hard and fast. The brunet trembled with the force of it, moaning high-pitched each time his prostate got hit. Suddenly, Astarion stopped moving when the cucumber was deep inside Gale. He bent over and took a big bite, his lips brushing Gale's ass cheeks.

"Hmm, a bit bland. My salad needs some salt," Astarion remarked. He slowly pulled the cucumber out and swiped the bitten-off end over Gale's sweaty back before taking another bite.

"Perfect."

Gale couldn't help but giggle at his crazy fiancé. Sex at the workplace, fucking at the farmer's market, robbing a veterinary clinic... What else had this ridiculous man up his sleeve?

Grinning, Astarion manhandled Gale onto his back and the latter went willingly, utterly curious about the next step.

"Now, it's time for the main course," Astarion narrated, patting Gale's thigh gently. "Just lie on your back like this, legs apart."

Gale complied immediately and was rewarded with a sweet kiss. Astarion got up once more to fetch the needed items from the counter. After settling back down, he coated the sausage with some bacon grease before pushing it into Gale's slightly gaping hole. It felt like nothing and slid in easily. Gale's eyes widened slightly when, to his surprise, he found the sausage to be warm. Astarion had observed his face, clearly waiting for said reaction.

"I kept it warm for you," he said, stroking his fiancé's sweaty hair. "I thought you might like it."

"I do. Appreciated, sweetheart," Gale replied, smiling. Astarion blushed at the term of endearment, still not used to it, and felt all warm and fuzzy inside. He locked lips with Gale, caressing the latter's tongue with his own until they were both moaning. Then, Astarion used a soft hotdog bun as a cock sleeve, sliding it up and down Gale's leaking dick, while keeping the sausage in place. His partner panted and groaned like a man dying (maybe he was a little) as he was jerked off. Astarion enjoyed gazing at that bearded face scrunched up in pleasure. As Gale came with a breathless gasp, Astarion caught his cum with the hotdog bun. Dazed, the brunet witnessed how his partner pulled the sausage out of his ass to assemble the hotdog and finished it off by squirting some ketchup onto it.

"Perfect."

Astarion took a big bite of the hotdog; cum-soaked bun, ass-flavoured sausage, and all. He chewed with his eyes closed and swallowed with a satisfied moan before going in for a second bite. Gale stared up at him, feeling slightly ill.

"You're disgusting."

"You love that about me, darling, don't lie," quipped Astarion, grinning, and offered the hotdog to Gale. The latter, never-endingly curious as always, overcame his disgust and ripped off a chunk with his teeth. It didn't taste too bad, but the cum definitely threw him off a bit. He made a face.

"It tastes weird."

"Snob."

With a huff, Gale gently swatted at Astarion's arm before pulling him in for a kiss. The blond grinned into it.

"How about a palate cleanser, hm? Something sweet? Does that sound appetising?"

"Mmh, yes," sighed Gale against his partner's lips.

Reluctantly, Astarion drew back to gather the next item and presented a squeeze bottle of caramel sauce to Gale. The latter squinted at it.

"Isn't that the caramel you drizzle over the bougie lattes?"

"Guilty as charged," giggled Astarion. "Only the best for the best, and the sweetest for the sweetest feast before me."

What about whipped cream?" Gale asked grinning.

"I produce my own," replied Astarion with a shit-eating grin and his fiancé almost choked on his own spit. Now, the blond popped open the lid, drizzling the sticky caramel sauce onto Gale's junk. With a moan, Astarion slurped at the latter's flaccid dick, swirling his tongue around to gather up the sweet caramel, sweat, and cooling cum. Gale groaned gutturally, carding his fingers through his partner's blond curls.

"I don't think I can come again," he admitted quietly.

"I don't mind," Astarion replied and sucked one of Gale's balls into his hot mouth. The brunet hissed, barely able to keep from kicking his foot due to the overstimulation. Astarion moaned and slurped, cleaning Gale with his tongue and swallowing it all with gusto. His partner started whimpering, it was too much. Tears welled up in his brown eyes as he squirmed in discomfort. Astarion finally had mercy on him and sat up. Gale sighed a breath of relief and placed kisses on Astarion's knuckles.

"Let me put my mouth on you," he begged. "Please."

"Fuck, yes!"

Astarion rid himself of his trousers and boxershorts before giving his weeping, rock-hard cock a few strokes. He was properly pent-up at this point.

"Sit on me," Gale ordered, embarrassment and shame forgotten thanks to his horniness. Astarion straddled his chest, knees under Gale's armpits, and drizzled caramel sauce onto his erection. Wordlessly, Gale opened his mouth, lolling his tongue out. Astarion couldn't help but stare.

"Fuck, Gale, you're beautiful," he breathed, in awe. "God, you're perfect, love."

With a low whine, the addressed pulled Astarion closer by the thighs and swallowed his cock down to the root. The blond cried out, bucking his hips.

"Fuck, Gale! Oh, God!"

Humming happily, the brunet started to suck him off while rubbing his index finger over Astarion's hole. The latter collapsed onto his elbows, bent over Gale, and thrusted into the hot, wet mouth around him. Gale let him. With a cry, Astarion threw his head back and shot his load down Gale’s slackened throat, and the latter swallowed it all like a shot, still able to taste the sticky caramel sauce on Astarion's skin, before placing a kiss on the tip of his dick.

"Fuck... oh, fuck..."

Trembling, the blond collapsed next to his partner, still drooling onto the blanket. Gale kissed him sloppily, and Astarion tasted himself, but didn't care. They rested for a while, limbs heavy with sexual satisfaction.

"How about dessert?" Astarion drawled, sleepily, and Gale chuckled amused, kissing his flushed cheek.

"What have you planned?" he asked, mouthing at the blond's ear.

"Mmh, it's a secret," giggled Astarion, goosebumps spreading over his arms and nipples perking up at the way Gale's soft, wet tongue probed his ear canal.

"I'm looking forward to it," whispered the brunet, gently biting his partner's helix. It made Astarion moan and he rolled on top of Gale, grinding their hips together.

"You drive me mad, my love," he admitted as he ran his fingers through Gale's salt-and-pepper mane. They kissed messily, all spit and tongue, panting into each other's mouths.

The bells jingled happily when the door opened and a hunk of a man stepped into the Emerald Grove. Gale gasped, wide-eyed and scared.

"Halsin!" squeaked Astarion, immediately blushing from head to toe. The owner of the café/bistro chuckled amused as he took in the scene. His gaze fell on the stray, thawing cheese stick on the floor, and he raised an eyebrow. Astarion seemed unbothered, but Gale's face burned with shame.

"You went home three hours ago. You're not supposed to be here!" the blond said, trying to sound as reproachful as possible. Halsin simply kept smiling warmly.

"When I arrived at home, I realised I've left the dewormers for Scratch in my office," he explained. "Is this your infamous fiancé?"

"Yes. Halsin, Gale. Gale, Halsin."

"It's nice to finally meet you, Gale. I've heard so much about you," Halsin spoke casually as if he didn't just witnessed his employee and his partner lying butt naked on the floor. "I heard you're a regular, but unfortunately, I've never seen you before. I hope this will change in the future."

"Yes. It's nice to meet you too," Gale replied awkwardly.

"I'm usually only here in the afternoons because I have to look after the garden and the animals, but I hope to see you in the Grove again soon. Now, I'll be out of your hair in no time."

Gale nodded dumbly as Halsin, true to his words, crossed the small café/bistro and entered his office in the back. Gale stared up at Astarion, who was still sitting in his lap, feeling deeply uncomfortable.

"We should apologise and go home," he whispered, but his fiancé frowned displeased and hissed: "Absolutely not! We were here first! I'm not letting my boss ruin my plans!"

Gale bit his lips, uncertain, wishing for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Halsin marched out of his office, humming, and playing with his key ring. When he was right next to them, he made eye contact with Astarion, and asked amused: "Are you having fun?"

"Yes, until you walked in," the blond fired back, cheekily. Halsin chuckled, glanced down at them once more, and licked his lips.

"Perhaps, you'd like some extra company?"

"Absolutely not! Fuck off, Halsin!" growled Astarion. Immediately, Gale was worried about the way his boyfriend had snapped at his boss. They couldn't afford losing Astarion's steady income. Thankfully, Gale had panicked for nothing. Halsin simply chuckled amused, shrugging, the insult rolling off of him like water off a duck’s back.

"You will clean up the mess according to hygiene protocol, I hope," he said, good-naturedly.

"Of course. That's what the sanitiser spray and wipes are for," retorted Astarion, rolling his eyes. Halsin nodded towards the half-eaten cucumber on the blanket.

"That's not going back into the fridge, right?"

"Clearly not. I'm not an idiot, Halsin," sighed the addressed. "The last two times, I wiped it down, washed it under hot, running water, and ate it for dinner. I'm not going to ruin my own workplace."

"Good, that's what I hoped," hummed Halsin, contently. "I can hardly blame you for ravishing your partner in here. It's a beautiful space that holds wonderful memories for me too."

At that, Astarion perked up.

"So, you did fuck the hot mechanic? From down the road? Dammon?"

Halsin nodded with a beaming smile.

"We enjoyed each other's company many times already. He's really good with his hands."

"Hah! Lae'zel owes me twenty gp!" cheered Astarion. "She bet on the personal trainer from across the street. The one with the cool mohawk."

"Aah," Halsin mused, eyes soft. "Karlach. Those thighs feel fantastic around my head, and she has a wicked hip thrust. Perfect for when she uses a strap-on."

"Well, shit," grumbled Astarion, slumping back down. Then, his eyes lit up again when he remembered something. "Did you fuck that cocky Blackstaff substitute teacher? Lorry, or something?"

"You mean Lorroakan?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"His inexperience and shyness are refreshing, and he's a natural with his mouth," said Halsin. "I'm lucky to be allowed to share my body with him."

"That means I actually win the bet with Lae," grinned Astarion. Halsin tut-tutted half-heartedly, smiling softly.

"The matters of hearts are delicate and must be handled with care," the hunk of a man said. "If you play with them too roughly, they'll break."

"Mh, yes, darling, wonderful poetry, but could you please piss off now? I'm rather busy," Astarion told him. Chuckling, Halsin indicated a bow and walked towards the door. Before he left, he turned around again, shooting Gale a beaming smile.

"It was lovely to meet you, Gale. Take good care of our wonderful Astarion. Enjoy your evening."

And with that, the owner of the Emerald Grove was gone. Gale blinked up at his partner.

"What just happened? Am I tripping?"

"Not at all, love. You've simply made the acquaintance with Halsin, the hippie who preaches free love, and is a living, breathing fuck machine."

"Did you two ever..."

"Yes, right after I escaped Cazador," explained Astarion frankly. "I was in a shitty place and this job literally saved my life, so, out of gratitude, I fucked Halsin for a while. But he isn't one for monogamy or begrudging other people's happiness, thus, it's not an issue that we've stopped having sex. Don't worry."

Gale couldn't help but wonder how on earth Astarion had fit Halsin's dick into his ass. The hunk must be hung if he was proportional.

"I'm impressed you were able to fit his monstrosity into you. How did you manage that? I'd be scared of tearing something."

"Oh, no, not at all," grinned Astarion. "I wasn't the one who bottomed."

Gale's eyes went wide.

"Oh! Holy..."

Chuckling, his fiancé bent down to kiss him.

"Enough talking about other people. I only want you."

Warmth bloomed in Gale's chest upon hearing these words.

"Now, it's time for dessert," Astarion announced, running his fingers through his partner's chest hair. "And you're the sweetest thing I can eat."

The brunet snickered at these cheesy words, but actually didn't mind them one bit. Astarion kissed him once more before he stood up to get a small plate from the counter.

"Dessert's something very special, darling," he purred and placed the plate on the floor. Gale got up onto his elbows to take a look, curiously. They were cookies. Flat, round, with a hole in the middle. Not a doughnut though. Gale identified them as Halsin's specialty pastries called 'Honey rings'.

"Only the sweetest for the sweetest, and the best for the best," purred Astarion. His fiancé watched, enraptured, as he squirted some caramel sauce onto his hand and started to stroke Gale's cock to hardness. When Astarion deemed it enough, he slid one of the cookies over Gale's erection and pushed it down, careful to not break it.

"An alternative cock ring?" giggled the brunet. For some reason, it amused him immensely. Grinning, Astarion licked some caramel off his fiancé's dick before diving down for the cookie. Gale's giggling turned into moaning immediately, and he buried his fingers in the blond's hair.

"God, Astarion..."

The addressed hummed, happily nibbling on the hard cookie and licking the familiar cock in front of him. With each lick and dribble of precum, the cookie softened, until it crumbled apart and Astarion ate it directly off Gale's dick. The latter groaned, feeling more precum leak from his tip, as his partner put the second cookie over and down his cock. Its hard, dry dough scraped uncomfortably against the sensitive flesh, but Gale didn't mind. Astarion went to town again, mouthing and licking at Gale's cock and the cookie. The brunet was covered in sweat, his wet hair fanned out around him like a halo, drool running down the corner of his mouth and mingling in his beard. Gale whined and tried to keep his hips down while his weeping cock strained against the unorthodox cock ring, and then - the cookie snapped with a loud crack. One of the pieces hit Astarion square in the face, while another one flew across the room never to be seen again, and the third was sliding down Gale's cock, slowly disintegrating in the mixture of caramel sauce and precum. The couple stared at each other, wide-eyed, shocked and surprised in equal measure. Then, the burst into howling laughter.

"Holy shit! Your dick broke the cookie!"

"I didn't mean to!"

They laughed and wheezed until they had tears in their eyes. Astarion licked up the soggy cookie piece from Gale's crotch before straightening up to admire his work. Gale looked utterly wrecked; face flushed, eyes hooded, chest heaving, body covered in sweat, bacon grease, caramel sauce, and cum. It was the hottest thing Astarion had ever seen.

"Can I fuck you?" he blurted out and Gale nodded enthusiastically. Astarion slowly sank into him as he leaned over Gale, and the latter wrapped his legs around him. They made love leisurely while trading lazy kisses. It was a welcome ending after all that frenzied fucking.

"I'll fill you up, buttercup," Astarion panted into Gale's mouth before slurping on the latter's tongue. He climaxed with a long moan of relief, spilling into his fiancé's perfectly plush ass. Astarion pulled out and had the decency to collapse onto the blanket next to Gale instead of on top of him. Utterly loose-limped and fucked-out, the brunet gazed at him and asked: "How was your full-course meal?"

"Divine," smiled Astarion. "How about yours?"

"Perfect," answered Gale before leaning over for a kiss.

It got quiet around them, only their own panting was audible. In the back, the fridge and freezer hummed lowly and one of the light bulbs buzzed. The stormy rain pattered against the covered windows while they were sound and safe in the warmth of the Emerald Grove. It felt peaceful somehow.

As they lay on the blanket, utterly blissed-out, Gale's phone vibrated. With a grunt, he stretched to reach into his coat pocket and looked at the e-mail he'd gotten notified for. While reading, Gale burst into laughter.

"What a night! What a bloody night!"

"Everything okay?" asked Astarion concerned, stroking his fiancé's chest. Still laughing - almost hysterically at this point - Gale lolled his head around to look at him.

"First, I was tortured by the taxes, then, I got my brains fucked out, and now, I get informed that I got the job." He laughed boisterously, beaming at his fiancé. "Astarion, I got the job at the library!"

With a happy squeal, the addressed pulled Gale into an embrace, paying all the bodily fluids between them no mind.

"That's fantastic, love. Congratulations!"

Smiling broadly, Gale cuddled Astarion closer, kissing him over and over again until they both were breathless.

"Now, my sexy professor is a sexy librarian," purred the blond. "Lucky me."

"Lucky indeed," chuckled Gale and kissed his adorably supportive fiancé once more.

The storm outside raged on, but they were safe.

[hieromonkcharbel]

“Give your blood and take the Spirit”:

My eyes are exhausted from ceaseless weeping. I cannot stop the tears. They leave my eyes with the fiercest of sorrows, sparse and painful, they are akin to drops of blood: with such suffering come the tears of inexhaustible sorrow. My sickened heart is torn by grief. Filled with perplexity, filled with horror, I look at the calamity that has befallen you, I seek solace in compassion for you. My brother! My brother! What happened to you? What an unexpected and terrible transformation has befallen you! You have been shipwrecked in a quiet harbor of the monastery! You suffered it not in the midst of the waves of the sea of life, not among the pitfalls that dot its bottom, not from the storm that roars and rises, merging the sky and the sea together.

Why do you not leave the path of the depraved? Why do you still linger in the filth of sin? Why do you lie and wither in despondency and duplicity? Make up your mind and repent! Make up your mind and forsake sin! Tear away your heart from sin, cut it away! The feat of repentance is painful and difficult for those who have fallen into mortal sin, into carnal habitation and worldly thinking. This feat was called bloodshed by our Fathers and, inviting them to it, they proclaim a saying that seems cruel in appearance: "Give your blood and take the Spirit". A right saying, a saying that explains the essence of the matter. Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God; nor does corruption inherit incorruption: those who wish to be with Christ must crucify the flesh with its passions and lusts. Do not be frightened by the difficult feat! As difficult as it is, so much desired and sweet it is. A monastic feat is equivalent to a martyr's feat. Its crowning achievement - salvation; its crowning achievement - eternal bliss in the abodes of heaven; its crowning achievement - the removal of fallen nature, the renewal of nature, its ascension to an immeasurable height by the union of the human nature with the nature of God.

God is infinitely good and infinitely powerful: approach Him in the spirit of contrition, expose your sores and ulcers before Him, repent and ask for forgiveness, ask Him for healing and you shall receive it. In your repentance, use the expressions used so successfully by the fallen Prophet: have mercy on me, O God, he said, according to Your great mercy, for no other reason, and according to Your many bounties, for no other reason, purify my iniquity. All those who asked for it received it: no one was refused. There is no reason to delay repentance, to doubt, to hesitate. I am frightened by your remaining in sin more so than falling into it; I am not afraid of repentance more than of stumbling. I am afraid that death will find you in your iniquities, will take you out of their midst and will suddenly place you in the Judgment of God.

A Monastic's Lament For His Brother Who Has Fallen Into Temptation

St. Ignatius Brianchaninov

[yanderenightmare]

How suspicious do you think our yandere BNHA boys would get when their darlings get hit with the stockholders syndrome too soon?

yandere ! BNHA headcannons

EARLY STOCKHOLM SYNDROME

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere-themes, DUBCON/NONCON elements, abuse, profanity, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, mind control

TIP-JAR

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

Katsuki is full of himself.

However, he is insecure and therefor highly unstable with his temper. And because of this he has a very hard time understanding how his darling is able to thoughtlessly curl up on his chest as though he isn’t a ticking time bomb.

He’s very suspicious to say the least.

He doesn’t know whether he wants to confront her about it or not, or whether he maybe should confront her about it, for her sake. He doesn’t exactly think it’s healthy for her to be smiling so sweetly at him, when he has the power to burn her to a crisp and the fact that he’s regrettably shown countless times that he is very much capable of acting on his temperance.

He feels as though they skipped some important part in her readjustment, and because it’s all built on an unstable unfinished and rushed structure, that it will all crumble and fall to ruble around him.

But, the feeling of incompletion is hard to give any attention when she snuggles so softly into his side, small adorable snores indicating how she’s truly and indiscreetly completely comfortable.

TODOROKI SHOTO

He knows her loving attitude is genuine, and welcomes it all with open arms.

He bares little to no reservation for caution whatsoever.

He rather celebrates the fact the she is finally as devoted to him as he is to her. His heart sweltering on the account that they can now both drown in bliss by each other again and again with as little resistance as possible.

He never once finds her clingy needy nature any suspicious, knowing it all to be genuine since that’s the only destination you'll find yourself when you’ve been locked in the same room with a person who brings you to your unraveling again and again.

And he's isolated her from everything and everyone except himself, forcing her to reach that blissed-out state again and agin, leaving her with him and only him to latch onto both while reaching her max and when coming crashing back down again.

It only takes a few days of pure and utter worship to make someone forget who they are and forgive who they’re with.

After all, humans are intimate creatures, not made for solidarity.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Izuku’s a good teacher.

He knows he is once his darling starts greeting him at the door like he taught her.

In fact, he’s such a good teacher it's hard to tell when it all started becoming so very heartfelt. Giving him his jacket whence leaving for work in the morning, having stopped eyeing the door so yearningly and instead keeping eyes locked on him, smile bright and present on her face.

The yearning is still there, he can tell, however her focus has shifted.

Compliments and sweet sentiments come to her lips like second nature now.

She’s constantly looking for his approval and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him want to skip patrol and stay right there with her, giving her all the praise he could muster and watch her take it all so humbly, grateful and so very happy to have pleased him.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

It was expected, however no less appreciated.

He knew his darling would fall into his little trap. She was bound to crack under his game of good cop and bad cop sooner or later.

Fear and pain are such great tools, but so is cooing and snuggling, and they work best together when creating that adorable chaotic confusion that makes his darling so lenient in fear of punishment and grateful for every lick of mercy he has to offer.

She’s so rigid without him, unstable, sporadic, confused, so utterly lost and afraid and unable to stop crying.

And well... dependence isn’t that far away from love, at least not in his mind.

Besides, feeling her crawl up beside him in bed, limbs shaking as small smooth hands wrap around and touch ever so softly on his scarred flesh, feeling needed can almost feel better than feeling loved.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

He living for it.

Suspicion can go fuck itself for all he cares.

She’s smiling, she’s laughing, she’s even gotten so good at playing console she’s gaining on his records in all his videogames!

He’s never shared that with anyone but meaningless nobodies he convinced were somebodies that pale in comparison when seeing her roar beside him in the fit of winner’s delight.

She’s beautiful, like what he expects the sun to look like, but she must be better because the sun always makes his eyes water and red in irritation.

It really couldn’t be any better. How she runs her fingernails through his silver locks in that motherly tender fashion. Letting him rest his head on her lap or chest listening to the mellow thumps of her heartbeat, it sounding so calm and comfortable despite his presence on top of her. It’s a good reassurance.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

It was suspicious which is why he had his guard up.

However, his other instincts told him she was being truthful in her shift in behaviour. And he’d be lying if he said the change wasn’t pleasant.

She was always throwing broken dinner plates at him before, snarling and growling and screaming and roaring like some inhuman beast, feral energy all being concentrated in nasty comments or biting and scratching and clawing and kicking and fighting, fighting, fighting.

Until… nasty comments turned a different type of nasty, the biting was accompanied by kisses, scratching and clawing was done to hold onto him instead of pushing him away, kicking turned into wrapping her legs around him.

They still fought, brutally, viscously, ferally, yet the fight had become so very carnal all of a sudden.

SHINSO HITOSHI

He had no need to be skeptical, he'd enforced her honesty from the get-go, embedding the command into her brain over and over until he knew it stuck, her being unable to tell him even the slightest lie.

It makes her affection that much sweeter.

When he asks her if she wants anything, knowing how she’s unable to hold back because he’s made it so, how she just has to spill her guts, all her little secrets flooding from her mouth about all the depraved things she has grown so used to and become so attached to and wants and needs from him.

How she’ll look at him, biting her lip despite it serving as no help for the oncoming confessions she’s about to shamefully voice.

He knows that it’s far from love still.

He knows how love is cultivated through more than just lust, but the ambition cannot be that far out of his reach when she answers his question when knowing how she's allowing him to play with her like putty in his hands, as though she trusts him or doesn’t care or… wants him to.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

If there something Kai hates, it’s lies.

Lies, deceit and dishonesty are all just forms of impurity.

His darling cannot be allowed to lie to him.

She cannot be tainted with that filth and treachery.

But... it’s hard to support his suspicions when at night she snuggles up to him on her own volition, instead of having him drag her into position.

He’s at a loss for what to do. Because, despite his brain telling him it’s too soon for her to be acting like that, his heart melts when she looks up at him with that doe-eyed look, telling him how she missed him today, how she felt lonely without him there, how she wanted nothing more than to help him wash the day off his body and out of his hair, to help him get clean and safe.

It takes time for him to trust her words, yet her smile is just too genuine and her eyes too bright and blinding for him to want to continue pushing her advances away.

TIP-JAR

[ironmandeficiency]

untitled (because it has no plot)

pairing: tech / reader

word count: 1621

summary: porn with almost no plot, no title & no apologies

a/n: tech is a tits kind of guy, you can’t change my mind

warnings: minor thigh riding, biting, normal riding, tech is the top we never knew we needed. he’s also the personification of the troubled bird painting that says “can i nest in your cleavage?”

the moment the havoc marauder’s ramp shut he was on you, giving you no time to adjust before hands wandered everywhere they could reach and lips stole your breath before giving you his. it had been too long since the two of you had any semblance of privacy and tech intended on using every second to his advantage.

you had been able to convince hunter (with enough mechanical jargon, of course) that two sets of hands were necessary to repair the ship before you’d be able to leave the latest planet. making the strenuous repairs the ship needed on your own “would have put the guys at risk if they needed a quick escape and their ride was in disrepair” and the argument was solid.

in all honesty, you were extremely exaggerating because this repair you deemed imperative to the wellbeing of your group could have gone a solid two months without being addressed. that being said, you were not going to wait two more months to get your hands on tech.

it seemed that he had the same mindset. nimble hands gripped your hips as he slowly walked the two of you backward. your boyfriend knew exactly what to do in order to get you melting against him, his slender and toned body pressing you against the ship’s walls. his tongue pushed into your mouth and you weren’t about to fight against him because the languid movements of the muscle were far too enticing and you missed it far more than you could express with words.

he groaned into your mouth when you ran a hand through his auburn hair, letting your fingernails drag along his scalp. tech’s thigh nestled itself between your legs and you held no reservations about trying to move your hips along the taut muscle.

tech didn’t approve. “oh no, my dear,” he tutted at you with his crisp accent, hands now pressing your hips against the wall with just enough force to guarantee that you weren’t going to move them without his say-so. “we’ve got plenty of time, no use limiting ourselves to the bare basics of what we need.”

he did have a fair point. that particular method of getting off was saved for expending the remnants of post-battle adrenaline and the tides of relief about him coming back in one piece. now, with the marauder vacant of any potential interruptions, you two were free to take a bit more time than you were normally allowed. this also meant indulging in your favorite carnal acts with the genius that regarded you with the highest reverence occasionally fogged by the thickest clouds of lust.

your neck’s pulse point was his latest target and he nipped and lapped at it with glee, relishing in the wanton moan with which you said his name. gods it’s been too long since he’s been able to taste your sweet skin and hold it between his teeth & he was going to enjoy every second of it.

lips moved from the pulse point and down to your clavicle, tongue collecting the fine droplets of sweat already beginning to form from the beginnings of your arousal. there was something about his tongue that sent you up a wall, the calculated fluidity tech worked it with identical to how he behaved during a mission.

when he was confident you weren’t going to try chasing your orgasm against the thigh holding you up, he slid his hands up your hips and tugged away the shirt concealing your chest from his hungry gaze, discarding it with an unfocused flick of his wrist.

“tech,” you moaned when his teeth gently grazed the valley between your breasts, catching slightly on the bra keeping your chest from spilling out. he ventured down the curve of your stomach and began to bite at the waistband of your pants, occasionally snagging the material and letting it slap against the soft skin. your hands went to your back to unclasp the infernal device and you felt him grin wildly when he identifies the action. the straps loosen around your shoulders and you let the material fall to the floor.

it’s barely a breath before his hands are on each breast, kneading and pinching your nipples. the engineer was fond of your chest, more so than the rest of your body, to the point of lavishing it with his unique brand of rapt attention every moment he could.

“so beautiful,” he mumbles into the skin between your breasts. after a few twists of the hardening bud between his fingers, his lips are on it. his mouth is hot and divinely wet against you, his teeth almost feeling sharp when they began to leave marks. canines catch on a sensitive area and you whimper, tech taking it as a cue to suck on the spot a little harder and dig his teeth in a little deeper. the hand in his hair tugs the roots at the sensation, your head falling back and gently thudding against the durasteel wall you’re pushed against.

this love of having his hair played with was discovered shortly after you joined the team. the two of you had stayed up for several hours longer than needed working on a new attachment to his vambrace and he had eventually slumped against you, head ending up in your lap. you knew that some people took comfort in people running hands through their hair and figured that it wouldn’t hurt to try. this man nearly purred at the motion and from then on, his hair was never not played with.

now you used it to your advantage, the tugs you knew he enjoyed spurring him into getting a move on. there wasn’t time to waste; even though the boys would be gone for a considerably long while, it did nothing about the fact that you’ve been depraved and you’re yearning for him.

he takes the hint and frees you from the wall, guiding you toward the cockpit where the pilot’s chair waited for its regulars. hands begin fumbling with the other’s clothes and they quickly turn into landmines on the ship’s floor, leaving you both in only underwear (which won’t stay on much longer, not at the rate you’re going).

tech takes his spot in the pilot’s chair and pulls you on top of him. it’s a dance you’ve done plenty of times and the motions only grow in their grace and familiarity. no words are shared as you tug his briefs down, nor as your underwear becomes yet another landmine. there’s nothing to say, at least not through talking. you communicate with each other through pants and whines and grips and caresses, each touch carefully translated with the ease that follows the formation of an unbreakable trust.

it’s an eternity within seconds as he pushes into you, the wait making the sensation all the more euphoric as you clench around him. the sensation has him burying his head into your chest, your now-speckled breasts a reprieve from the stimulation.

when he’s fully sheathed inside you he’s uncharacteristically still. he’s never held much patience while his desires are given to him on a silver platter and it’s got you spoiled. you try to hold out but it’s an attempt made in vain, your body revolting against your sense of control as you raise and lower yourself back onto him. he hissed through his teeth at the movement and bites the nearest patch of skin in retaliation.

you whine because of how tender your breasts are and how rough he is with them, and you whine because he just won’t give you what you both need. you whine because you’re completely fucking desperate for him to do something. hell, even if he removed you from his lap and went on about his business would have been at least some relief because he would have to move on the way out. this sitting still thing? you probably would have enjoyed the tease of it all were you not so desperate right then, but that could be pondered another time.

your whining and preening for him did the trick, flipped the switch in tech that told him to take what he needed from you, what you offered him so freely in these shared moments. he immediately set a fast, grueling pace that you both realized wouldn’t be easily kept, not after this long apart.

skin slapping skin and choked moans echoed in the cockpit as your climaxes grew near. tech strangled out praises of your beauty, how divine you felt around his cock, the sounds you made. he asked if anyone else made you feel this way, if there was anyone in the galaxy that would dare to challenge him in pleasing you.

you held nothing back as you cried out his praises and your love for him, how he was the only man that could bring you the blinding pleasure that always accompanied his touch. it was getting harder to hold on to coherent thoughts as you teetered on the edge. your hands braced themselves on his thighs as he gripped your hips and pulled you down each time he thrusted upward.

his pace had slowed to execute a few more perfectly aimed and executed thrusts. seconds later he jutted himself balls deep in you and came, your name spilling from his mouth in ragged breaths between hot, wet kisses on your breasts. hearing him so needy and feeling his release inside you sent you over the edge with him with an arched back and quaking body. time was irrelevant in the comedown, neither of you knowing or caring to know just how long you stayed in the chair wrapped up in each other.

[fly-like-a-phoenix]

House of Lust (part 5)

Abbé de Coulmier x reader.

Summary: Five years has passed since the events of Quills. The Abbé de Coulmier is released of prision by a misterious event. And he will know again those feelings he never thought will meet again: love... and lust.

Warnings: spoilers from Quills, some mentions of sex, things will go a little wild from here...

"Excuse me, madmoiselle." François said. "But I don't really understand anything. My parents said you will---"

"Oh, yeah. Your parents, yeah." Odelle interrupted him. "They... They came here two weeks ago, maybe more, before leaving to Spain. Are you hungry, Abbé?"

His stomach was grunting. He was thirsty too. He hadn't drink anything since the morning. But he needed some answers from those women wearing their nightgowns.

"Who are you two? Why am I here?" He said, his voice deeper than never.

"Come with us. You too, Y/N." Josephine said. But you stepped in front of François, covering him from your sisters view.

"He asked you two questions. Answer him, Odelle." You said. Knowing your sisters, you will try to protect him to all costs.

"My name is Odelle, and she's my sister Josephine. And it seems you already know Y/N, the little one. You knew us all, Abbé. But let me explain you better in the dinning room."

François and you shared a look. You nodded with your head, walking right next to him while he zipped his shirt. You weren't going to let him alone with them.

François saw the large hallways, admiring them. The walls were full of paintings, but there were not enough lights to see them properly. Some red courtains covered the windows, not letting the moon light enter the house.

And then you all arrived to the giant dinning room. A large table was in the middle, at least thirty chairs surrounding it. Josephine moved her hand to him, inviting him to sit.

"Y/N, can you bring him some food?" Odelle said, siting next to him. "As I was saying, we knew you from before. The three of us went to that theatre play in Charenton five years ago. We thought we were seeing The Happy Shoemaker, but actually you allowed the presentation of the Marquis de Sade play.

"I didn't allowed it. I didn't knew the inmates prepared another play to mock about doctor Roger-Collard and his young wife. I didn't---"

"Shh, shh. Whatever you say, Abbé. But let me finish. That play, those moments, seeing everyone enjoying it, and some quotes said from the actors... That changed us completely."

"It changed you both, Odelle." You said, bringing a plate with potatoes, a piece of meat and bread, letting it in front of François. "Don't talk for me, please. I was just sixteen years old, and I didn't care so much about---"

"Let me finish, then, if you think you didn't change too."

The silence crowned the large room for a few seconds. You looked at your sister with hate. You did hate her, actually. Because of many things.

"As I was saying before my sister interrupted me," said, as she didn't do it before with you and him. "That Marquis' play changed us. We started to read more of his work, you know? More of those hundreds of stories he had to tell. And then, we started to believe different, to feel the world and see it with other eyes. Seeing that we're just here to enjoy the carnal pleasures."

François looked at you, but you were with a hand in your face, trying not to see him or your sisters and not showing the shame you were feeling. Josephine continued what Odelle was saying.

"It's like a creed, Abbé. A creed based on lust, greed and violence. And we believe in it, as many other friends of ours do. You are pale, Abbé. Are you okay? Is the food alright?"

François was breathing heavier. He remembered that horrendous play very well. The Marquis, with Madeline's help, used the inmates to perfom those blaspheming performances that made Roger-Collard angry with him.

"This is the House of Lust in France, Abbé. Many people come here to satiate their thirst for sex and perversion. We help them to do it. And we enjoy it a lot too, just as the Marquis used to say."

"You're damn crazy, all of you!" He said, getting what Josephine just told him.

"Abbé, I'm not part of---"

"Shut up, Y/N." Odelle interrupted you again. "What were you saying, Abbé?"

"Please, stop calling me Abbé. I don't have that charge anymore. What am I doing here, for Christ sake?"

Josephine left her chair, and went to stand just behind François, letting her hands in his shoulders. Odelle touched his hand with her fingers slowly, her nails scratching the skin, hurting him a little.

"Your parents asked us to help you, that's true." Odelle said. "But they didn't know about our... activities this month. And you, as a man who took the vows, have never experienced things like we do. You're still innocent and pure, even if your body doesn't feel like that. And you got free and arrived the Villa just at the perfect moment to discover those feelings.

"What the hell are you talking about? I just wanted a place to sleep and eat something. I think I'm going to Paris again..." He responded, trying to get up. But Josephine stopped him, sitting him again.

"Now, Abbé, are you going to be a good boy and accept we're helping you? or you are going to try to escape? It's not gonna be easy, tho. Guards are everywhere, and we're not letting a cute virgin guy like you to come to this house and let you go like that. He have to taste you, you know what I mean. Or we kill you right now and we say to your parents you were killed by a thief. You choose."

François looked at you again. This time, you were seeing him too. Not only shame in your face, but fear. You nodded again, convincing him not only to stay in there, accept and survive, but also that you were in the same situation, under their threat.

"Alright, mesdemoiselles. I see I don't have other option. What do I have to do?"

"For now, just go to sleep. You arrived late, and every room in the Villa is full of our guests. We don't have other, maybe the dungeon. But I think Y/N doesn't mind he can sleep in her room. Do you, Y/N?"

You saw the young man with pity. What a poor lad! Just getting out of his unjust imprisonment to get beaten and now under the power of those mad women that your sisters were.

"It's okay." You answered, knowing that in your bedroom, at least, he will be safe for some hours. And that you both could plan a way to escape.

"Amazing! But will you let her fuck him, Odelle?" Josephine said, as if he was just a toy. "We should take care of that first."

"And we will, sister. We will. Tomorrow we will see how we start him in this. They can do whatever they want. But as I see it, she's too shy even to touch herself, so I don't think she will do nothing. And he... well, he can't do nothing without our permission. So don't you dare to do nothing to our little sister, Abbé. You're still a priest to her, until she doesn't respect those vows. She never wanted to be part of our creed, but she's our sister, and we love her. Are we clear?"

François couldn't believe all that was happening. How could people be so sick? You see them on the streets, walking, shopping, being arrogant assholes. And then, you learn how depraved they are, as Roger-Collard and Madeline herself.

"What will happen tomorrow?" Said he, scared.

"It's a surprise, my dear." Josephine responded. "For now, finish you dinner, go and sleep. Recover from that beaten you took. And wait for us. Tomorrow you will get a bath and new clothes."

Josephine squeezed his shoulders, and left with Odelle, both talking low and laughing while they went to their bedrooms.

François kept his eyes in the plate, looking at the meal in shock. What did he got into? He just needed some help his parents promised. What a fuckminded friends they got!

You served him some wine, and gave it to him. He drank it quickly, feeling the sweet savour going through his throat, waiting for you to say something.

"I'm sorry, François. I'm truly sorry. I don't even know if your parents really came here and talked with these two harpies. Maybe that isn't even true. But I should have taken you out of here as soon as I recognized you."

François looked at you in awe. He couldn't believe you were so different to them. He took your hand with care, and smiled even if he didn't knew what your sisters will do to him the day after.

"Is other people in here?" He asked.

"Around seventy guests of the famous House of Lust my sisters run. God damn it, I can't believe this is not an awful dream. They've being doing this since the last five years. And it's so wicked that I can't believe is real. I fear all them."

"Well, I can't believe you're so different to them. It's true you're not part of this madness." Said he, smiling again with pain in his eyes. "So you think we can't get through this? I'll help you escape if you help me."

Your prayers were answered! This young man you felt attracted to five years ago was going to got through many things these days, but you both will go out that Villa, that was for sure.

He finished dinner in silence, you looking at him, admiring his factions and manners. He was in prison a lot of time, but he was still a gentleman.

He decided to sleep in the divan you cured his face before. He didn't want to disturb you. But he was the most normal man in that house at the moment.

You regretted talking about him to your sisters that time after the play five years ago. Maybe him being in there was all your fault.

"That priest is really gorgeous." You said to them when you were at the carriage, leaving Charenton. "I wish he hadn't taken the vows. Maybe we could know each other and have been friends."

Your sisters seemed to take this seriously, because when they knew he could get out of the asylum, they took advantage of it.

And now, there he was, a prisoner again, like you were those last years, of your own family. Hopefully, his mind would not get so dirty those days as his body covered of mud when he was out the Villa a few hours ago.

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