#mysticrosed
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I think Quil passes!!!
Squints at some of the unmarked options. "I have solutions to some of the unmarked problems here, but just know that you're still on thin ice with me, zombie boy."
A pause.
"I think you're edgy."
#mysticrosed#;ic#Alasdair vc: If you grab me again I will bite your hand off and no I will not be giving it back
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@mysticrosed sent That’s it. You can take a lot more, can't you? Hold on to me from rook!
It feels like they've been at this for a while. An hour? Maybe more? Time loses meaning when he's here with Rook like this. The man has brought him to orgasm over and over again.
First, with touch alone, then with his mouth, and then again with more touch, fingers inside of him, mouth on him - Rook does everything at his disposal to bring him to orgasm over and over again.
And now he's inside of him and Astarion is still trembling with his legs wrapped around Rook's waist. He doesn't mind the closeness but it's almost embarrassing when he knows he must look like a lewd mess.
Breathing comes out in quick gasping breaths and Rook tells him he can handle more and the sound he makes in response is embarrassing. "I-I can't. Rook. I can't take it." Despite his pleas, the word 'no' never falls from his lips and instead he obeys, wrapping his arms around the other's shoulders as he thrusts inside of him.
Over and over, at that fast and rough pace that is driving Astarion insane. The pleasure is overwhelming, so overwhelming that it hurts, the tears that prick in his eyes is inevitable.
It's so good. Despite his protests, he doesn't want it to stop, he just isn't sure how much more he can take.
Already he can feel the orgasm coming on again, leaving Astarion to dig nails into shoulders and cling to Rook as if his life depends on it.
He's made a mess of himself already, cum splattered all over his stomach and chest. He wants cum inside of him, that desire is what brings him to rock himself desperately against Rook as he arches his back.
He wants him to fill him up but he can't find the words to say, he can hardly find his voice. "I-I can't." It feels pathetic to say yet again and he worries that because he's said it three times now, Rook might think he wants it to stop. That is not the case.
"D-Don't stop."
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for astarion !
05. what are the top kinks that your muse enjoys? 06. what some/a kink that your muse wants to explore? 19. how does your muse feel about eye contact during sex?
astarion's kink is being loved.
the serious answer: astarion is pretty adventurous however he has to trust someone deeply to get to more intense things like bondage and bdsm and such. He's okay with it but you def have to ease him into it. One of his kinks would def be blood play, probably a given, but there's something so incredibly pleasurable about feeding when he's right on the brink of orgasm.
Honestly, Astarion doesn't have an answer for that one. So much of his life has been spent catering to the needs and whims of others, he hasn't actually sat back and thought about a kink he wants to explore. He's open to most things if his partner brings up a kink, though.
He's fine with eye contact, enjoys it really, eye contact can be sexy and Astarion knows how to use that eye contact to drive someone insane, he enjoys it a lot.
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𝚆𝙸𝚉𝙰𝚁𝙳 𝙸𝙽𝚅𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽 .
@mysticrosed [Rolan]: rolan is here as advised by babsi. he's a good boy
An excited series of tiny claps, just as the tiefling arrived. Ah, how wonderful he made it in time ! ( There was never a clear time or date, though. ) Not waiting for him to make his way deeper to camp by himself, the little lady insisted leading him on — small hand resting on his back, giving the tiniest gesture of a push.
❝ I was not expecting you to show up ! Do not worry. I made enough room for you too. This way, please. ❞ Was Babette's tent big enough for a literal tea-party with more than three visitors ? No. They would all have to cuddle with each other at the end of the day.
Which was very much fine with the hexblood !
#mysticrosed#mysticrosed: rolan#business meeting with the wizards!#She's about to live her dream#✂ ˚ The Hexed Seamstress ˚⠀⠀/ ic .#✂ ˚ I take commissions ˚⠀⠀/ answered .
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@mysticrosed sent: “i’m ten times funnier and sexier than you.” from quil!
A silver brow arches, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he leans casually against a tree, arms crossed. His crimson eyes flicker with amusement, tracing Quil with the kind of lazy, predatory interest one might reserve for a curious insect. ❛ Is that so? ❜ His voice is smooth, silken, the kind of drawl that suggests he's already several steps ahead in this conversation, thoroughly enjoying it. ❛ Well, darling, I must applaud your confidence. It’s always endearing when someone reaches for the stars, even when they clearly belong in the gutter. ❜
He pushes off the tree with feline grace, sauntering closer, his gaze never leaving Quil’s. ❛ You see, confidence is one thing, but I find that true charm——real allure——is something you can't quite measure. Not by numbers, certainly. ❜ He pauses, tapping a finger against his lips, feigning deep thought. Astarion steps back, hands raised in a gesture of mock surrender, that wicked glint in his eyes never fading. ❛ But please, don’t let my existence get in the way of your delusions. After all, someone needs to be second best. ❜
His smirk broadens, the hint of fangs visible. ❛ And I do so enjoy watching people try. ❜
#lolol he said#oh we woke up and chose violence today i see#his tongue is as sharp as his teeth lmao#mysticrosed#askbox prompts. answered#ic. replies.#he’s actually a mean bitch wtf lmao
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PROMPTS FOR SPENDING THE NIGHT TOGETHER
↳ @mysticrosed : "there's no harm in cuddling." from rook!
oh , why had lolth forsaken him ? of course he'd be the one who got stuck sharing a tent with romeo , over here . the drow shifts slightly , pulling himself away onto the cold floor , only to find the other moving along with him , refusing to give him an ounce of personal space . his brow twitches with barely contained irritation , his forcefully closed lids threatening to pull open as he growls . ❝ - there will be if you don't stop moving . ❞ the drow warns him , their fussing and bickering while confined to that narrow mattress keeping everyone at camp awake at this point .
spindly fingers reach blindly in the dark , feeling its way down rook's arm to grab it , forcefully , and yank him forward , draping the obnoxious little creature over his back ; if he insists on this madnes , then he'll just have to serve as a blanket . ❝ now stop talking or i'll bite . ❞ he warns , closing his eyes and letting his muscles gradually relax so his consciousness could properly fade .
#mysticrosed#˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ prompts — asks.#˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ ft — rook.#and the new chapter of 'vhaal pretends he doesnt like rook'#vhaal said how dare u cuddle me?? //cuddles even harder
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i feel like i belong here. from zevlor!!
@mysticrosed
Jaheira looked at Zevlor, a warm smile spreading across her lips. His words, simple yet profound, caught her off guard. He felt like he belonged here. It was what she had wanted for him, but hearing it now filled her with an unexpected sense of pride and relief. She had fought for this — for him, for all of them. But more than that, she realized, she had fought alongside him. Zevlor had become a part of her life in ways she hadn’t anticipated.
Yet something else simmered just below her thoughts — an unspoken connection, feelings she hadn't fully acknowledged. They were there, lingering at the edges of her heart, brushing against it in fleeting moments like this. But she couldn’t afford to dwell on them now. She brushed them aside, focusing on the joy of seeing him find peace. But the weight of what she felt remained, somehow.
Stepping forward, Jaheira wrapped her arms around Zevlor, her embrace warm and genuine. For a moment, she held him tighter than she intended, her emotions almost betraying her. "I'm so happy for you, Zevlor," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat. The words were honest, but the depth of what she meant went far beyond that. "Of all of us, you deserve this new beginning the most."
As she pulled back, she couldn’t help but linger, her gaze softening as she looked into his eyes. She hoped he understood, that he could see how much he meant to her — even if she didn’t quite have the courage to say it aloud.
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@mysticrosed for Rozoroc
Nyssala hauled the last crate into place, stacking it with practiced ease to create a makeshift stage on the side of the bustling road. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the scene as she rearranged the crates to ensure stability. She dusted off her hands, surveyed her work with a satisfied nod, and took a deep breath. “Perfect,” she murmured, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Now, let’s see if this roadside theater can pull in a crowd!”
She stepped up onto the stage and began her performance, hoping that people would be more willing to pay for a good laugh than for a music act.
"I never knew doppelgangers were experts at crashing parties, but those bastards managed to wreck an entire carnival back there!" Nyssala glanced around at the audience. Some people chuckled nervously while others shifted uncomfortably in their places. She could see a few wide-eyed stares, their reactions a mix of shock and amusement. The inability of the surfacers to laugh over a tragedy always shocked her.
Very well, then. Time to change her approach. Her eyes quickly scanned the crowd. The audience was a mixed bag — mercenaries, traders, a few shady types whispering in a corner. And there, near her makeshift stage, was a half-orc with a hulking frame and a stoic expression that almost dared her to be funny.
Nyssala grinned, her mind already plotting. “You know, folks, I always thought the hardest part of life on the surface would be the sun. But then I met this guy!” She pointed right at the half-orc, who barely blinked. “You look like you’ve been gargling gravel and bench-pressing boulders since birth. Seriously, did you get lost on your way to the Coliseum?”
The crowd chuckled. Encouraged, she pressed on. “But don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you’ve got a sensitive side. Maybe you write poetry when no one’s looking, huh? ‘Roses are red, violets are blue, I’ll smash your face, and eat your stew.’”
The crowd roared with laughter. Nyssala winked at the half-orc, enjoying the moment. “You’re a good sport. Let’s be real though, with those muscles, you’d make one hell of a bard — just play the lute and let the strings weep in fear!”
Nyssala stepped confidently onto her makeshift stage, sidling up to the half-orc and draping an arm around what she could get of his shoulders, though he still towered over her even from atop the crates. “Tell me, friend! What’s your name?”
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@mysticrosed continued from here
"I can't help it; it's just how I'm wired," he said with a sweetness that felt almost rehearsed, his frame swaying like he was caught in some private rhythm only he could hear. A finger idly between his teeth, his eyelids fluttered in a way that should have been absurd but wasn’t —not on him, not in this moment. "So, what do you think? Will you do it?" The question came with a cheeky smile that curled at the edges, and he moved closer, closing the gap like it was nothing. "It would mean the world to me if you helped me out," he added, and his hand found its way to the other bard's chest, a gentle touch that lingered just long enough to leave an imprint.
He started to circle around him, slow and deliberate, like a predator with all the time in the world. "And you know," he whispered, his voice dropping to something hushed, almost conspiratorial, "I can make it worth your while… a reward you won’t soon forget." His words were barely audible, but the promise in them was unmistakable. He stopped behind the bard, leaning in just close enough that his breath brushed against the other’s ear. "A reward you'd be left very pleased and satisfied," he murmured, the growl in his voice soft but undeniable. "So, what do you say? Will you lend me a hand?" His lip brushed against Tryck’s ear, the touch fleeting but electric, before he let his head rest on the other’s shoulder, crimson eyes wide with that too-earnest hopefulness that bordered on something more, something dangerous.
There is something simply wickedly attractive about Quil that Tryck can't seem to escape from. The other bard intrigues and entices the more dark and wily side of Tryck in a dangerously alluring way. It doesn't help that he's absolutely enraptured by Quil's beauty and skillful tongue. He appreciates someone who can seduce him as well with his words as he can with his body.
The predatory performance Quil gives as he's circling around Tryck has him electrified with anticipation, and he doesn't even attempt to hide the pleasured shivers that run through him when Quil's breath is on his ear.
A con knows a con, however, and Tryck knows exactly what Quil is doing to him. Does he really mind, though? Not at all. With the way Quil's lips leave his, the way he rests his head against Tryck's shoulder and looks at him with those hopeful and dangerous yes... how can the blue bard resist?
"Well, my dear, I am rather fond of receiving rewards," Tryck's voice drips with his own seduction an innuendo as he let's a hand wander up and down along Quil's back, almost like petting a pampered and attention seeking cat. "Especially if the reward is a sizeable one. What exactly is it I have to do for your... reward?"
#mysticrosed#mysticrosed; quil#quil is such a wicked influence on tryck and i am here for it#give mr. blue sky a little bit of stormy darkness
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@mysticrosed
The lakeside next to their camp in the Underdark is a picturesque scene of bioluminescent mushrooms and sharp, colorful crystals. The rock where Erala and Kitty stand at is a colossal, jagged boulder, smooth and cool to the touch. It juts out from the bank, the water below steady, dark and calm. The top of the rock is flat and wide, with lush moss grass growing around the edges.
Erala could feel Kitty's impatience, etched in her posture and expression. She turned to the half-elf, her red eyes reflecting the lights of the mushrooms. "Patience, little one," she murmured, her voice a low, husky purr. "Magic doesn't rush. Neither should you.”
“You were doing so well lately. It’s just a matter of practice now.” Erala’s voice was calm and almost soothing, though there was a subtle edge of patronizing eagerness beneath her words. She could see it — Kitty’s raw potential simmering just below the surface. The girl was filled with anger, untamed emotions, and some powerful feelings that she harbored toward nearly everything around her. Kitty was like a crystal of raw energy, sharp and unrefined, and Erala was determined to shape that power, to hone it into something formidable. If she could just focus all that energy, Kitty could become something… unstoppable.
Erala reached out, taking Kitty’s hand with a firm but gentle grip, just as she had done before. Her fingers curled around Kitty’s, guiding her through the precise motions needed for the Firebolt spell. “Feel the energy here,” Erala leaned in close, her voice low and rasping as she murmured instructions into Kitty's ear. Her arm slid firmly around Kitty’s waist, steadying her as they stood together. The warmth of Erala's body pressed against Kitty's back, grounding her, while the heat of the magic they were conjuring pulsed between them. Each breath Erala took was calm and measured, guiding Kitty's focus, keeping her centered as power crackled at her fingertips. Sparks began to flicker as their hands moved in tandem, the heat building in the air between them.
“Wield it. Unleash it.” Erala said, her eyes fixed on Kitty’s with an intensity that matched the growing flame. Slowly, she eased her grip, letting Kitty channel the final burst of energy on her own. The Firebolt shot forward, small but focused, and Erala allowed a hint of satisfaction to curl at the edge of her lips.
“Well done, Kitty,” Erala praised, her voice a low rumble, still holding her waist firmly. "Very well done." Slowly, she released Kitty's waist, turning to face her fully. Her gaze lingered on Kitty for a moment, a subtle pride in her eyes, though her expression remained composed, the magic still humming in the air. Kitty had done well — better than Erala had expected — and the thrill of seeing that raw power begin to take shape stirred something deep within her.
With deliberate care, Erala raised Kitty's chin and pressed her lips against hers, a slow and tender kiss that lingered with the promise of more. It was a reward, a sign of her pride, and a taste of the power Kitty was beginning to unlock.
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💋 jinx
Affection comes natural to him, hence he doesn't think twice about his actions as he finishes bandaging her wounds. He's healed their party members left and right so he doesn't have a lot of energy left, but... But he rises from his seat beside her and gently kisses her forehead, casting a simple spell to ward away some of her pain. "There, good as new."
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❛ i just, i don’t want anything bad to happen to you. ❜ quil
The words have the dhampir stop in their tracks, brows furrowing slightly. He doesn't want anything bad to happen to them? How sweet, and a sentiment that was far too late.
Rolling their eyes, they would reach over to grab their rapier. "I can simply misty step away if anything happens, I've survived far worse than bears or bandits." Though, they didn't believe for a moment that he was truly worried for selfless reasons. It was likely because they were more useful to him alive, or half-alive at least. That's just how things worked. No one cared unless they needed something, but in most cases they didn't hold that against anyone. After all, who are they to begrudge practicality?
"Unless, you're too scared to stay at camp all by yourself." A little smirk toyed at their lips as they look over at him. "I'll only be gone a half-hour at most." They just needed to find something with a pulse, get some blood, and come right back. Then they could finally just go to sleep.
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@mysticrosed ⸻ Play strip poker with my muse —Rook ☼
Everything about this was a mistake. A trained calm and an unrevealing expression was not enough to make up for a lack of experience. Vigor was not a card player, and certainly not a gambler; he took enough risks in his profession to not enjoy it in his free time, and rarely took risks by choice. Vigor stares unwaveringly at the cards in his hand, keenly aware of the sweat forming on his brow despite the chill breeze against his chest.
❝You know, I'm more than happy for you to take your winnings now,❞ he says, forcing his laugh to sound sincere, and not nervous. ❝After all, there's no prize to be gained from another round,❞ he adds with a playful smile, before firmly keeping his eyes fixed on his cards, biting his cheek as he tries not to blush.
#mysticrosed#rook#idk how good rook is at cards i just know my boy sucks at them#even in his assassin verse ok#lanceboard? ok sure. but poker? NOPE#rook can be winning or struggling too - either way vigor is nervous#hope this works <3
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hc about astarion and rook's sleeping arrangement!!!
At first, Astarion would have wanted his space but the deeper they get into a relationship together, Astarion wants to sleep by his side There are plenty of times where Astarion has to be alone and I feel like Rook is very understanding of that but by the middle of the night, he's usually climbing into bed with Rook.
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👀 + will astarion marry rook hihihihi <3333
Send me a “👀 + a question” and my muse has to answer honestly!
"Oh...marriage....is that something you want?" It's not the answer, he knows, but he's stunned by the question. Marriage? Him? Rook want's to marry him? He'd never even thought that far ahead.
"I....perhaps I can be convinced."
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@mysticrosed → liked for a starter .
the damsel in distress , such fragile , helpless creatures . who would ever dare to dream that the dragon in the tower was not the enemy , but the guardian ? who would ever dream that the princess and the witch were one and the same ? she wears it well , does she not ? exuding thankfulness , as damsels so - what could she ever do to repay you , hero ? with her long blonde hair cascading down her shoulders , and her big , soft blue eyes wet with gratitude , she can't help but wonder - is this everything he'd dreamed of ? ❝ you ... you saved me ! ❞ the damsel exclaims , as they do , shrinking herself into the narrative , dainty palm to her sternum , lungs rising and falling with the softness of her breaths .
❝ i was so scared ... for a second i thought - ❞ a hand lightly hovers over his shoulder , light as a feather . ❝ if it wasn't for you ... gods only know what that horrible man would've done , ❞ that horrible , horrible little man , who'd tried to the bitter end to withhold knowledge from his bright , young pupil . and when nothing could deter her - he tried to trap her . ensnare her . he should've known better . such a horrible thing to do . ❝ my hero . ❞ adelaide perches herself onto the tip of her toes , pressing a chaste to kiss to his cheek .
#mysticrosed#✚ . ◞ * / SCRIPT. › you tell the wolves things ‚ sometimes .#✚ . ◞ * / FT. › rozoroc .#mam how have u already told so many lies in like two paragraphs#jail 2 her#jail
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