#this queue is on fire

[dalishflame]

Anybody ask for DA Atreion in a flower crown?

[beyzmonroe]

idk 'bout you but i'm obsessed!

[dalishflame]

Been a while, so mutuals please like for a starter.

[dalishflame]

🗣 ✍️ @undyingmedium

Send 🗣 to hear what my muse thinks of yours

"You're... intimidating. As powerful women often are. You have a good heart, though. You've shown me kindness when we barely knew each other, and I have not forgotten that. I hope that, should we grow more comfortable with one-another, I may pay it back in kind."

[dalishflame]

REVEAL: for sender to slowly undress themselves while receiver watches, but doesn't touch.

devoted, yearning & obsessive

It's all a game. Atreion knows it. In this world they've chosen for themself one must learn quickly to play it and play it well, and yet they still find themself being swept away.

Does the magic still work when one knows it is a trick? Atreion can say emphatically yes, because oh, Astarion is a master. He makes the simple scandalous and the salacious downright sinful, practice made absolutely perfect. The night is cold, so of course he wore gloves - not because he needed them, but for that teasing pull, finger upon finger. One, two, three, four, five between his teeth, and Atreion dreams of those fangs sinking into their flesh. They yearn for those fingers, cold upon their skin.

Next, his shirt. He could prolong things with another small article, a scarf, a shoe, but that tips the scale from tantalising to irritating quickly. The mark needs skin, real skin, and so he obliges with the slip of well-worn laces. He's beautiful. He knows he's beautiful, and he reveals every inch like a painter revealing his masterwork. Making Atreion want every inch.

They love it, this game where they can look but not touch sings to the longing in them, letting them wax rhapsodic before Astarion loses patience and demands to fuck them. But the best part are the moments where the mask slips, just a little. Or rather, Atreion hopes it slips. It's in the cheeky little grin when Astarion pulls free from his shirt, or the flicker of his gaze down to Atreion's crotch in the hopes of finding a reaction there. Or the honest, yearning hunger when Atreion balls their fists upon their thighs, throat tight and heartbeat flickering just beneath. In those moments Astarion slips, drawing in a deep, animal breath through his nose to taste their hot blood, their desire. That's the moment when one of them usually snaps, and today is no different.

They slip from the chair, sinking to their knees as easy as breathing. Above them, Astarion is still mostly clothed and wearing the smug, satisfied look of the cat who's got the cream. Atreion can't find it in them to give a damn.

"Astarion... please."

[dalishflame]

smash or pass from cas 😚💕

     𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃   "  𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇   𝐎𝐑   𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒  “   𝐅𝐎𝐑   𝐌𝐘   𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐓𝐎   𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑   𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐘   𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓   𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒.   𝐍𝐎   𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃  .

"Smash. Straight through the mattress. And the desk. And that wall..."

[dalishflame]

My  muse  nearly  confesses  but  quickly  backtracks.  “It’s  nothing.  Forget  I  said  anything.”

✧    ›   𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃     &     𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆     𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅

"What was that?" Grinning like a demon, Atreion caught her chin between two fingers, tilting her face up to meet their gaze. Their words were barely breath, so soft that only they two could hear. "I think you were about to say something nice about me."

[dalishflame]

✿ ❝Ah! There's that smile!❞ // from gale!

✿ Friendly Affection Starters

Atreion ducked their head to hide behind their hair, but it was too late, it had already forced its way out for Gale to catch. Pink in the face, they shoved at his shoulder like a schoolboy teased in the playground.

"Give it a rest," They grumbled, without teeth, "I'm just... it's a lot, alright? I'll be fine. Eventually."