bardspo
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Dozens of people have touched him this way, from nursemaids to bathhouse girls. Hell, he was manhandled bare-arsed into a tub only moments ago without so much as blinking. There’s no reason for Henry’s touch to feel like this. To make Hans feel like this. But it’s nice, God, it’s nice, Henry’s big blacksmith’s mitts impossibly gentle as he loosens the blood from Hans’s hair.
For the first time since taking that decoction, his heart kicks in his chest, hard enough that his pulse jumps noticeably under his neck.
And elsewhere.
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Gale was so preoccupied that he didn’t think to ask why Astarion had stopped using her thigh, her neck.
Not that he couldn’t lead Tav into temptation by the arm.
Astarion shifted on the bed and laced his fingers through hers from below, bending her hand back until the veins in her wrist stood out, stark and green-blue. His thumb brushed absently over her palm as he lowered his head to that thin and sensitive skin, lined his fangs up deliberately with the existing puncture scars.
Like he wanted his mark on her, too.
Series
- Part 2 of punch, drunk
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“When this tadpole nonsense is over,” Astarion had often said, “I won’t let you out of bed for a week.” He had failed to keep this promise and had in fact not let Ryld out of bed for two.
Could’ve done three, if it hadn’t been for the knock on their door.
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“You didn’t seem to mind it much, by the way. Being eaten alive. For a moment, I thought, have I been wrong all these years? I always expected a person would react to being bitten by driving a stake through my heart, not putting their tongue in my–”
Tav grit her teeth. “Astarion, tragic backstory or no, I will still gladly punt you into next tenday.”
(smut in earnest ch 8 but horniness throughout, you're welcome)
Series
- Part 1 of punch, drunk
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Five years after the Inquisition’s disbandment, a disillusioned Dorian takes a leave of absence from the Magisterium and journeys south to visit Cullen, where the fully recovered once-commander runs a rehab program for templars out of his manor house in the Bannorn. Dorian, wounded grievously in both body and spirit by The Iron Bull's final betrayal, is still struggling with his losses and the man they've made him. Seeing his old friend awakens memories, both good and bad, which he'd thought long buried. As the two reconnect, spending time together on the farm with Cullen’s many dogs, they begin to realize they may have more to offer one another than simply reminiscing about a shared past.
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- English
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- 26/26
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Bookmarked by bardspo
10 Aug 2024
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This is what had always been most treacherous about the Forsaken One--people are usually acclimated to its presence, long before they’re sacrificed to it. Loneliness isn’t the experience of finding yourself the only person in an empty room. Most of the time, people feel loneliness like a habit. Sometimes, there’s no reason for it all.
Series
- Part 1 of At the Interim
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- English
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- 22,928
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- 1/1
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- 247
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Bookmarked by bardspo
06 Jul 2024
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The sun falls on Astarion’s face and he lets it.
The moist blue morning is a poor time to be in a fight, but they’re here with their weapons out, confessing to whoever sees them that there is no other option but to fight.
Bookmarked by bardspo
16 Dec 2023
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“I am not eager to throw myself upon another altar for naught but scraps in return.” Gale steels himself with a deep breath. He speaks his peace to the wilds and the cosmos rather than his lover's face. “And yet. Marble skin, silver tongue... eyes like Moonsea rubies. Oh, you cast a fine altar, Astarion.”
With two discerning appetites, a deal to keep each other fed is the one thing that ties Astarion and Gale together. But the proverbial collar slips all too easily around Gale's throat, the lead feels right in Astarion's unchained hands, and both men think they've bested the other in a game neither should be playing.
In any case. As the greats say in lanceboard: there is no shame in losing to a stronger foe.
- Language:
- English
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- 93,014
- Chapters:
- 14/?
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- 1,344
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Bookmarked by bardspo
08 Dec 2023
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Tav can’t say he’s visited many brothels in his life, more the type to pick someone up at a tavern instead. But he gets it; a handful of gold for a moment of dreams, of fantasy becoming reality. A worthy exchange, in his eyes. Pleasures of the flesh are one of the few things of worth in this godforsaken world. His mind can’t help but wander off, wondering what kind of services he would have requested.
Could he have ended up in this very room?
Bookmarked by bardspo
07 Dec 2023