I'm not saying Astarion would wear this to his wedding with Gale. But I'm also.. Not saying he wouldn't.

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I'm not saying Astarion would wear this to his wedding with Gale. But I'm also.. Not saying he wouldn't.
@architaciturn / STARTER CALL. ˗ˏˋ 👑 ◝
𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓 hadn't been particularly challenging. Attempting to flee in boots with STILETTO HEELS hadn't worked out too well.
The Half-Elf was tied up, his long golden locks in disarray. And, to his horror, his pastel finery, embroidered with golden stitching and opals, had a tear ( his outfit alone was worth more than some commoners ever earned in their lifetime ).
"YOU WRETCHED...!! BRUTE!!" He kicked and complained, his voice high-pitched from anger and fear, though he tried to hide it by throwing a tantrum. "Do you have ANY idea who I am?! They will hang you for this, mark my words!!"
@architaciturn sent: “Your heart is racing, darling.” (Haarlep, from Astarion // architaciturn)
"Please," they begged. It was so rare for the incubus to genuinely plead. There were many times when they begged because their partner wanted to hear it, wanted to think they could reduce a sex devil to a puddle. But now? They needed it.
Down on their knees, Haarlep pressed their forehead to the vampire's stomach. "It hurts," they sobbed. They had gone much too long without sex, and their body was turning against them. In a last ditch effort to find a mate, pheromones wafted off their body and slick trickled between their thighs.
Clawed hands grabbed a fistful of his shirt. "Touch me - let me touch you." It didn't matter which, as long as there was an orgasm for them to feed off of.
Verse with @architaciturn He was young when Cazador changed him. Stupid. He believed blindly that his master loved him in those first twenty or fifty years. Until one day he realized.. That wasn't love. But it had already damned him, molded how he saw the world and how he felt love.
Damned him. Cursed him. To see hatred, anger and violence in shades of affection and love. His brain was rewired on some deep level he couldn't reach, couldn't scoop it out without harming something irreplaceable. Believe me, he tried, all the methods and ways he could think of.. He tried to fix, to heal, his defects.
And then Reos, his darkest Urge, came into his life and though his trust was hard won.. His love was an easy target to locate. Growled words. Rough hands. A mouth that gave as it took.
Even as the darkness took him, started shifting and changing him, Astarion followed him knowing what was to come. He loved Reos with a burning strength, though he knew it would never reverse what was happening, he held fast and removed.
Damned.
Cursed.
He clung to the man he loved, at his side or directly behind him. Even as he gave into his father, even as the madness took him, even as the world grew black and red, Astarion stayed.
Changed himself, altered himself in ways that should disgust the pale elf and yet.. He wouldn't give up the love he felt for the Chosen of Bhaal and he wouldn't give up whatever.. That stilled the ruby tipped claws from adding his body to the pile at his feet.
(don’t fuck w me I’ll write Reos as slayer and make all you monsterfuckers weep)
Did I stutter? Don't be a coward. Let's unleash some hell. See just how far we can push it before they come crying in our askboxs.
❛ you’re a fucking nightmare. kiss me, little pet. ❜ (Cazador - @architaciturn)
⚝ ╰ ‘ 𝑨𝑵𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑫 ╱ @architaciturn.
"Dreaming about me, are you~? How flattering." His voice was a soft whisper, teasing, his lips hovering dangerously close to Cazador's, the warmth of his breath ghosting over his skin.
This was an awful idea.
"... If you keep calling me that, I will reduce you to ashes, wretched leech," he murmured, his lips brushing against Cazador's before he closed the barely there space between them and kissed him —— with more passion than he had intended, despite his better judgment. It seemed reason had momentarily deserted him.
darker vibes ( accepting )
Gale Dekarios. Of Waterdeep.
No man had ever made him feel as seen as Gale does. Even in the very beginning when Astarion was using him as he saw fit, a toy to string along until he got what he needed from him, the wizard had known and let him play his games. Interesting enough that's exactly what slowly starts to make the vampire pay closer attention to him. He never stopped talking, he read in the most random of places and he was far to joyful about the strangest of things; with a slight obsession with a Tressym. He's everything the rogue isn't and so much more. A brilliant light that blinded. Of course Astarion was pulled to him. A moth to the flame. Gale was brighter than the sun and how could a vampire resist?
When the first feelings of attraction, true attraction, stir inside of him. He's startled, he's scared but he knows that whatever it is he feels for Gale.. He hadn't felt since his very first years as a spawn. Attraction before Gale bumbled his way into his life had always been fake, a manipulation to get what he wanted when it was needed. He had a hungry master to feed after all. And Astarion.. Was the crowning jewel in his plan. He was a walking temptation, sin dripping in leather and silk, perfection. And with his silver tongue.. He was near impossible to turn away. Was Gale any different? Did he find himself helpless to turn down his advances? It was hard to trust, to believe, that the wizard could be looking for more than the physical. Then in a stroke of genius the spawn tested this. And to his shock.. His terms are easily agreed to. Does the healing start then or that first time Gale asks in the gentlest manner possible to kiss him..?
When does curiosity and interest turn into love and devotion? When does trust bloom between them? When does his world turn on it's head? And does it even matter? Astarion belongs to him. Soul, heart, body and mind. Gale Dekarlos is a force to be reckoned with. A man patience and willing enough to put in the work, to claim a broken vampire as he was and love him still. All the bad with all the good.
@architaciturn Ta-da! I did my very best, spent hours on this masterpiece.