tavlesskink | Rules and Prompts

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For anyone who enjoys the old-school fandom vibes of anonymous prompts, but who wants to focus on origins characters and BG3 NPCs.

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A kinkmeme is a place to post story ideas, plot bunnies, and concepts anonymously, in hopes that they'll inspire someone else in the fandom. As implied in the name, kink and smut prompts are welcome, but so are gen prompts! This is a choose not to warn space - there may be offensive content in prompts and we do not require warnings in titles.

Mod Post | Fills Archive | Prompt Index (by character)

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From: (Anonymous)

OP I may have gone a bit overboard with this one and added in a totally unrequested kinks in here (light s&m, roleplay, very minor fantasy-only pregnancy kink, plus a long-term free-use dynamic in the polycule). Hopefully you still enjoy and maybe someone will fill the prompt as written. Sorry! I got into horny astarion mode XD

---

The fingers that explored his mouth tasted of steel and oil and sweat. “You were correct,” Lae’zel said. “He is a vampire.” She hooked one finger against his upper lip to reveal his canines, holding his chin with her other hand.

Astarion wiggled against the ropes around his arms, tied behind his back. He couldn’t move them at all; they were secured to the harness that was knotted around him from shoulders to hips, laced in from wrist to elbow. The way a rogue was supposed to be secured, with no way to wiggle free, not even if he dislocated his fingers.

“To find a monster in our midst after all this time,” Wyll said, setting his hand on the hilt of his rapier. “It’s a shame to behead a creature as comely as this, but what else can we do?”

“Because we are monster hunters, and killing monsters is very much our business,” Gale added. Gale should shut up, Astarion decided. He was ruining the mood.

“Please,” he begged. “Anything if you’ll spare my life. I wasn’t even going to bite you, I swear.”

“Life? A vampire doesn’t have a life to beg for,” Shadowheart said. She looked him over, inventorying his bare chest, the dirt-stained pants, his missing boot from where Lae’zel had tackled him to the ground and sat on him earlier. He shivered under her calculating gaze. The chase and the struggle were all over now. It was time for the hunters to reap their reward.

“And what sort of anything might we want from you, vampire?” Wyll asked, voice all steel and danger.

“You said I was beautiful,” Astarion begged. “You want me. My body. Take it. Spare my life and I’ll serve you – all of you. As long as you want it.”

“A tempting offer,” Karlach said, all devil-swagger as she leaned down behind him, hooked her fingers under the ropes around his shoulder and lifted. Just for a moment, just enough to make his back arch into her hold and an undignified noise to escape his throat. She smiled at him, licked her lips. “I say we take him up on it. It’s bleak in these dark lands, we could use the amusement. And I have been hurting for a fuck.”

“An audition,” Wyll said.

“To see if he’s worth keeping,” Shadowheart agreed.

“Please,” Astarion whined.

Above him, the adventurers shared a silent conversation. Astarion could feel the blood flush rising in his cheeks already, spreading to the tips of his ears. He was horribly aroused, not that the horrible oration was the cause of it.

“Yes,” Lae’zel said. “We will share him; see if he is worthy of receiving our pleasure.”

“Yes, please, yes,” Astarion said.

Lae’zel nodded at Karlach. “Up,” she commanded. Karlach lifted him again, this time pulling him to his feet and beyond, his weight pressing the ropes of the harness into him. While he was lifted, the others stripped off his remaining boot, then the belt, then his pants and smalls. He panted, fully naked while all the rest of them were dressed in their armor and gear.

They carried him to the fire and laid him down on one of the bedrolls piled near it. They sat around him on their scavenged camp furniture. Astarion waited for something to happen, but there was a clink and clatter of metal on metal and when he craned his neck to see the other side of the fire, Gale was dishing the pottage into bowls and Shadowheart was pouring herself a glass of wine.

“You’re eating dinner? Now?” He asked.

“Did you think you would be our first priority, vampire?” Shadowheart asked sharply. “You agreed to let us use you – and we’ll do that when we please.”

“Chk,” Lae’zel said, using one booted foot to roll him onto his back. Her boot brushed against his erection, already electrified by the humiliation. “Look how desperate it is already to be ours.”

“He can wait,” Wyll said steadily. “Patience is a virtue for a public servant.”

And so they ate, and talked, and ignored him while Lae’zel played with his cock, teasing and threatening in turn with idle motions of her boot. When they finished eating, Gale stepped aside to wash up the dishes, and people left the circle one by one to change into more comfortable clothing, still ignoring him all the while. When Lae’zel got up, leaving him utterly untouched, he whined piteously.

“Poor thing misses you, Lae,” Karlach said. She sauntered back over, stripped to the skin but for the leather harness around her hips and the massive red and black glass cock jutting out of it. She knelt down beside Astarion and lifted him again, this time with one hand under his back and the other beneath his knees, like some fairytale princess. Her arms were deliciously hot, her soft skin interrupted by the tangles and snarls of burns that felt so good against his neglected, sensation-seeking body.

When she sat back down on the bedrolls, it was with him on her lap, the rapidly-warming glass cock sandwiched between them. It was already slick with oil, dripping with it. “They wanted me to take you first,” Karlach said, “so you’d be more enjoyable when they fuck you later. I gotta get you all warmed up.”

She lifted him up, up, hands against his hips like branding irons. Until the warm tip of her cock brushed against his hole and his breath caught like a wildfire. She was big, she was so big, but he’d taken bigger. He could do this. He braced his knees against the blanket beneath them and nodded. She let go of him and he sank down onto her cock.

It was so big, and it was so hard that it felt even bigger and he was shaking with it immediately, breath coming in gulps. The glass was spiraled in sinuous ridges, like a true devil’s cock. He sank down just until he hit resistance then waited, let the pressure of her press against him until she broke him of it. Then he sank down the rest of the way in one smooth slide, sensation lighting up the backs of his eyes like fireworks. He moaned, ground against her to feel the weight of it inside of him.

“Fucking beautiful,” Karlach said, petting his sides, then his hair, canting her hips to give them a better view of the base of her strap buried in his ass. “Isn’t he fucking beautiful, guys?”

“Very,” Wyll agreed. Astarion opened his eyes again and looked, saw that the rest of them were back around the fire. Watching him. Shadowheart’s hand was definitely down the front of her pants already, and Wyll had his laces undone, just beginning to tease himself as he watched. They were all looking at him.

“Well? Go on now, you are fucking, not sitting for a portrait,” Lae’zel commanded.

“Aye, aye, soldier,” Karlach said. Her grip tightened on Astarion’s hips, hooking under the ropes again as she met his eyes for a moment. Then she smiled, and began to fuck him properly.

It was like standing on top of a landslide, if the landslide had also slid inside of you and was hot as a forest fire. It wasn’t like that at all. He didn’t have words for it. His head fell forward against her shoulder, entirely within her power as she used him. Like he was the toy and that rod of glass was part of her. The others were watching, seeing the way his cock bobbed as she fucked him, the way his legs twitched and shook.

He couldn’t be blamed for coming first in that onslaught of sensation.

Karlach didn’t blame him. She didn’t comment on it at all, just fucked him through it till he was crying from how much it was. Then she rolled them into the ground, never relenting, using her new angle over him to lick the tears off his cheeks. When she came, it was a quiet, sudden thing, a pleasure that has never known freedom from surveillance.

That thought was unpleasant, and he pushed it aside. He wasn’t there to think about their damage, he was there to be fucked.

“Gale next,” Lae’zel declared.

“Wonderful,” Gale said, walking over in his absurd velvet sleep set, still wearing his damn shirt. “Now I don’t have the strength to toss our new...acquisition around like a bag of potatoes, so if you wouldn’t mind, Karlach? Just for a moment.”

At Gale’s instruction, he was flipped onto his stomach, then hoisted up in Karlach’s arms. Gale pronounced some invocation, waved his arms and something silver and molten dripped from his hands, spreading out in the air beneath him to form a spectral circular platform, hovering above the ground. Karlach let go and he fell onto its surface – hard and perfectly smooth and humming with energy.

Astarion wiggled against it, his cock pressed between his belly and the arcane tabletop.

“Mm, no, enough of that,” Gale said, hooking his hands around Astarion’s thighs and pulling him backwards until his ass fell off the edge of the platform, his legs hunting for ground and finding himself on his toes to reach it. Hands braced around his legs on either side, pulled them open until he couldn’t touch the ground at all. He could recognize those hands if he tried. He didn’t.

Gale stepped up behind him, the velvet of his sleep pants brushing Astarion’s bare skin. “I think the vampire suggested this because he likes it,” Gale said, like this was an intellectual curiosity. “He likes being a pretty little toy for other people to fuck. Is that right? Is that why you suggested this, Astarion?”

Astarion whined, shook his head against the buzzing platform of energy.

“No? You don’t enjoy this?” Gale asked, one teasing finger tracing around Astarion’s rim in unending circles, never getting closer, never doing a damn thing for him. The vibrations weren’t focused directly on his cock from this angle, but they were still carried from the crease of his hips, and Astarion rocked into them.

“Well, this is certainly a testable hypothesis,” Gale said, finally lifting his hand away. “A little game for us to play. When you admit that you love this and that you wanted this from the start, I’ll let you come again. Until then, all the pleasure here is going to be mine.”

The mage hand he invoked, because he couldn’t resist using mage hand, wrapped thumb and forefinger around the base of his dick and squeezed: an overcomplicated magic cockring. Astarion would have grumbled about it, except that the other spectral fingers were resting against his perineum, tapping lightly against it in a pattern that was going to drive him to distraction in a few minutes.

Gale rocked into him, no need for prep after Karlach’s strap. His dick wasn’t especially memorable in the Astarion’s mental lineup, but he was persistent and patient, a terrible combination. The first time he worked Astarion up to writhing with the need to come, he didn’t even ask the question; just pulled out and walked away. Maybe had a glass of water, Astarion couldn’t see anything from his angle except the fucking fire. And Wyll on the other side of it, smiling at him like he’d never seen anything more beautiful than a vampire drooling on themselves because they wanted to come. It was hideous.

Gale came back and did it again, pulled out and gentled him with hands stroking his flanks. Then he did it again, the magehand around Astarion’s cock was beginning to take the shape of a black hole at the center of the universe, sucking in all of his thoughts. He wanted – he wanted -

“You want to come, don’t you, slut?” Gale asked.

“Please,” Astarion said. “Please. What I want doesn’t matter, but please.”

Gale’s hands stilled. “What you want matters a great deal, actually,” he said. “And the question is, did you want this? Did you want to be our slut? Do you enjoy being passed around by us, being fucked by us?”

There was a right answer to this question, but he was already floating somewhere beyond where his brain supplied right answers. “Yes, yes, please,” he said. “I want it, I want to be yours, all of yours. Please.”

“You want to be our beautiful fucktoy?” Gale asked. “Used just how you need it, hard and rough and always for someone else’s pleasure? You want to be ours?”

“Yes,” Astarion whispered.

“Good,” Gale said. “Because that’s what you’re going to be.”

The hand around his cock disappeared, just as a second Gale appeared in front of him, pushing the spectral platform aside to present his wet and dripping cock to Astarion’s mouth. Gale rocked into him slowly on both ends, inexorable, not hard enough to make him collapse. The pressure built again, almost – almost -

A hand wrapped around his cock from beneath just as Gale’s motions finally slipped into erratic peak-chasing, and Astarion orgasmed first again. The soft cock in his mouth turned to tingling and then nothingness as the spectral Gale disappeared and the real Gale came over Astarion’s back, hot and sticky against his cooling skin.

Everything was so good. His arms ached like fire, and his cock was throbbing, near pain, but it was so good. Someone touched his arms and that pain went away, washed away by something cool. They unwrapped the ropes that fastened them to his chest harness and he whined at the loss. But then they flipped him onto his back and secured his arms against his chest and that was good again.

“Do you want more?” Lae’zel asked, her green face leaning over him and cutting out the glare of the fire. He blinked at her, taking a moment to realize the question.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, more. All of you, you promised.”

“That we did,” Lae’zel said. “Do you want Shadowheart to hurt you?”

Shadowheart was standing next to Lae’zel, leaning against her. Watching him like a cat eyeing an especially delicious mouse. Astarion shuddered.

“Would you?” he asked.

Shadowheart smiled. “Of course. Anything our sweet fucktoy wants.” She leaned forward, pressed a kiss against his forehead. Then she was up, up on top of the disk, sitting on him with her leather pants rubbing against his skin.

Lae’zel handed her a candle - a huge, fat pillar of wax. Shadowheart handled it like an artist, dripping the molten wax onto the skin exposed between the knots, letting it pool and fill the space, lighting him up with pain. Then she set the candle aside and began to pinch at his skin, fingers icy cold as she cracked and peeled away the wax, twisted at the rings through his nipples. The cold of her fingers through the piercings was as good as the sting of shocking grasp.

He was begging again, and the words didn’t make sense but he wanted. He wanted more, more closeness, to peak again, even if it was agony. Someone kissed him on the mouth, lips cracked and warm against him and he melted into it. He was theirs. He didn’t have to worry about any of it, they would take care of him eventually.

And then the kiss was over and there was someone sinking down onto his cock, tight and blisteringly hot around him. His eyes popped open to see Shadowheart’s back, her leather pants finally removed so she could ride him. She was facing Lae’zel, who was stepping up between his legs, pushing them up and onto her shoulders.

In one motion, Lae’zel shoved her cock inside of him, forcing his legs back further so that she could kiss Shadowheart. Her thrusts were shallow, allowing Shadowheart to wrap her arms around Lae’zel so they could devour each other, with him beneath them as an intermediary of their pleasure. Theirs.

Shadowheart climaxed and he would have, he would have except that it had been twice already, and it was all so much. She rolled off the platform, wrapped her arms around Lae’zel from behind and whispered something into those lacy-edged green ears that made Lae’zel’s eyes glint. She pulled out of him, left him bereft.

From: (Anonymous)

He whined, pulled his legs back against his chest to encourage her to keep going. She hadn’t finished, he hadn’t satisfied her yet.

“It’s okay, Astarion,” Wyll said. He was finally up, finally almost close enough to touch, close enough to get his mouth on that delicious cock. But instead, Wyll just leaned down and kissed him, along the shudderingly sensitive shell of his ear. “It’s okay,” he said. “Lae’zel isn’t done with you yet.”

And then he was lifting Astarion’s shoulders as Lae’zel took his legs and the shuddering, vibrating platform was gone and they were lowering him onto the nest of bedrolls and blankets and pillows. The pillows were moved around him, shifted, and then Lae’zel was back between his legs, running her long bony fingers over his cock. It was painfully red, but not leaking anymore, nothing left to wring out. He shied away from her touch as she twisted and pinched at the skin of his sac. She smiled, that smile she shared with Shadowheart.

“I want to see you perform your sword swallowing trick for me,” Lae’zel said. “While I fuck you.”

Astarion groaned, the image brushing against his mind and then overwhelming it. Him on his back, his spine curled, his knees pressed against the ground beside his head, suckling at the head of his own cock. Lae’zel over him, pounding into him, the force of her thrusts moving his own cock deeper into his mouth. Along with the image he could feel their lust, almost as strong as his, humiliation and pleasure entertained. He made a noise that wasn’t words and they knew that as agreement.

He was too fucked out to maneuver himself into position, but there were hands to help him. The pressure on his neck and shoulders was uncomfortable, but the image of it, overlapping, refracted through five tadpoles, was enough to make him almost come on the spot. His cockhead touched his lips, and he let them fall open, let the tip of in, still tasting of Shadowheart’s juices. He moaned, both at the sensation and that he could recognize the taste of her. That he was hers, theirs.

Then Lae’zel thrust inside again, and everything narrowed to sensation. To the cock in his mouth, the way it moved against the flat of his tongue as she hammered into him, the building pressure inside of him, the way her cock slipped and squelched in the mess of grease they’d forced inside him. The sensation of all of their lusts, their affection, their love. He fell in love a little bit all over again, half mad with the sensation as Lae’zel came inside him, pulled her cock out and immediately replaced it with her fingers so she could keep fucking him until he came, cock pulsing in his mouth as she fucked him through it, and past it, right up to the point where he would have cried for her to stop and no further.

There were stars up above them, drifting in and out of the smoke from their fire. The blankets under him were soft, so many textures, rumpled and bundled together. The rope harness was being untied, and of course he found Wyll kneading the sore muscles of his arms, smiling at him.

“There you are,” Wyll said. He leaned forward and kissed Astarion. His tongue slipped gently into his mouth and he luxuriated in the kiss as the rest of the rope was pulled away. Astarion could still feel the phantom of it, pressed into his skin. He had enough blood to bruise now. If they didn’t force a healing potion on him he could be branded with the ropes of the harness, painted in bruises.

Well said, “I think we got a bit carried away. The roleplay fell by the wayside pretty quickly.”

“Well, our fucktoy can’t help being enthusiastic when we’re giving him what he loves,” Gale said cheerfully.

Astarion flushed, ears going red from root to tips. “Gale!”

“Are we not still in the scene? That’s your name when we’re sharing you, isn’t it?” Gale asked.

“It is,” Lae’zel agreed.

“Well, what do you think Astarion? Do you want to keep going?” Wyll asked. “I can sit this one out tonight if it’s too much.”

“You promised me all of you,” Astarion said. “You promised.”

“And if you want it, we’ll give it to you,” Wyll said, kissing him again. “I just don’t want you to feel bound to live up to the rather grandiose promises of your younger, stupider, more cock-hungry self from three hours ago.”

“I resent that remark, you bastard,” Astarion grumbled. “I’m never less hungry for your delicious, perfect, wonderful cock. Give it to me.”

Wyll laughed at him, but he lay back and let Astarion rest between his legs, let him burrow under Wyll’s shirt and pull his cock free from his small-clothes. The taste was somewhere between the bitter flavor he expected of humans and the sweet spiciness of his blood. Infernal corruption was delicious. Astarion licked at him, explored all the ridges and the soft-shuddering prongs, the swell of it at the base. Making circles beneath the head of his cock, in the spot Wyll liked best, until his tongue was so exhausted it felt like it was going to fall out of his mouth. It would be more efficient to use his core to fuck his mouth onto Wyll’s cock but after the rest of them, his muscles had gone to jelly.

He slowed and finally stopped, just holding Wyll in his mouth, trying to blink away his exhaustion. A question poked at his mind and he wasn’t done yet, he just couldn’t keep going.

Hands lifted him and Wyll sat up, pulled Astarion into his lap, slipped his cock into the loose and dripping mess of his hole. Then he reached out, tangled his fingers in Astarion’s hair and pulled him forward, till his fangs were resting against Wyll’s neck. “Like that, sweetheart,” he said. “You were so good for us, you deserve it. Drink.”

Astarion bit down into that sweetness and Wyll was the one to moan this time, his shared pleasure like eating a star, swelling in Astarion’s chest till he could almost burst with it. He suckled on his neck, no desperation of hunger urging him to go faster as Wyll rocked into him, pushing deeper with each thrust until he’d even swallowed the base of him. His soft cock rubbed against the thatch of fur covering Wyll’s belly. He wasn’t even interested in coming again, just riding on the vicarious pleasure of Wyll fucking into him, the squeeze of his hole against Wyll’s transformed cock, the satisfaction that he’d taught his body to take it, even when Wyll had thought it impossible.

Wyll started babbling sweet things at him, calling him ‘love’, and ‘darling’, and ‘beautiful’ and Astarion knew it would be over soon. Marshaling the last bit of strength in his legs, he began to rock back into Wyll’s thrusts, force his gentle pace into something rougher. The swollen base of Wyll’s cock slipped out of him and back in, a stretch that had him howling with pleasure-pain, so big inside of him that Wyll needed no finesse to light up all of his nerves. He did it again and Wyll was groaning, hands forcing him to stillness as he came in pulsing waves, burning hot inside of him.

Astarion finally released Wyll’s neck, lapped at it with his tongue as Wyll shuddered through it. He nuzzled closer, soft cock pressed between them as he imagined all of Wyll’s come swelling him up, setting seed in him, making him theirs. Thankfully a fantasy he was safe from falling into without magical intervention, because when he was high on sex he was willing to forget things like how much he hated children. But still, maybe someday Gale could simulate the effect. He let the thought linger in the air between them and Wyll moaned.

Karlach laughed. “Down boy! That’s enough marathon sex for one night,” she said, pressing herself against Astarion’s back, kissing Wyll over his shoulder as she rubbed circles against his stomach.

“Maybe,” Gale said. “But it would take some experimentation. Not on the road. If you want to be staggering and plugged up with our imaginary children you’ll have to help us save the world first.”

“Ugh,” Astarion groaned. “That sounds like so much work.”

“Once we win, I promise, we’ll fuck you till you can’t get out of bed for a week,” Karlach said. “We’ll let you try all of Gale’s perverted spells. We’ll let Wyll kiss you as long as he likes, which I assume is at least a full twenty-four hours. Wouldn’t that be worth it?”

“You promise you’ll keep me?” Astarion asked. Surely this was just an arrangement of convenience; he was a willing body and they were all stuck together. They enjoyed him well enough, he knew that from the tadpoles. He loved them, all of them, so much that he thought his dead heart might start beating again. But once they weren’t forced to stay together, once he was a spawn again fully, trapped in the darkness, surely they wouldn’t want him anymore.

“You aren’t getting rid of me,” Wyll promised. “I love you Astarion.”

“Me too,” Karlach said.

“Why would we ever let you go?” Gale asked, leaning his head against Astarion’s shoulder. “You’re ours?”

“Precisely,” Lae’zel said. “Though I may have to go away, once in awhile, to destroy the tyrant leading my people.”

“How long can that take, for a woman as determined as you?” Gale asked with a smile. “A couple weeks at most, really. And astral plane sex is wonderful anyway, you won’t have to be without Lae’zel even if she’s away.”

“Maybe she’ll take us with her,” Shadowheart suggested. “I think Astarion would enjoy sex on the back of a dragon.”

“Chk – not a good idea. The draa get all riled up,” Lae’zel said. “They would want to participate.”

The image shuddered to life between them and Astarion wasn’t even sure who’s fault it was but he moaned, cock twitching a little even though he couldn’t possibly have gotten hard again. Karlach laughed, swatting at his ass as she said “Down boy! Gods, you’re insatiable.”

“No death-defying sex until we save the world! Those are the rules,” Gale announced.

“If you insist,” Astarion said. “As long as you’ll keep me.”