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mood; peg that old man!!!!

listening to; luther -- kendrick lamar & SZA

anons; 🔌 & 🐉

currently watching;

n/a

to watch list;

moriarty the patriot

backflip!!

the case study of vanitas

promare

uramichi oniisan

currently playing;

dragon age: inquisition

sub!solas headcanons because he deserves it (18+ NSFW);

Solas is the truest definition of a switch imo, since he reflects the energy people give him, so i think if he were to encounter a dom…. baby girl would fold so fast

he’d be (pleasantly) surprised for sure, but he’d quickly follow the rhythm you’re setting

while i believe Solas piped back in Arlathan, ancient elf sex and modern day sex are a whole different ballgame. where the ancient elves incorporated magic far more frequently, mortals in current times are all about the exploration of the body — and how to push it to the limits

it makes for an entirely different experience, one that Solas hasn’t had yet. In some ways, you’re taking his virginity

he’s touch-starved. he might not even realise it until that first kiss. but in a relationship, he’s all about touching, cuddling, sneaking in little kisses, hand holding — you make having a body feel so much more enjoyable, in more ways than one

definitely a private guy, but if someone were to walk in on a cuddle sesh with you he wouldn’t move away. he’d simply stare, coldly, at the person who interrupted, and speak in a polite but clipped manner

he’s the little spoon obviously. cmon. that man screams “come hold me”

during sex, solas whimpers. a lot.

he’s not one for loud pornstar-esque cries of pleasure (although one might escape here and there), he’s more about quiet whimpers and moans and heavy breathing

he’ll bite his lip if he feels he’s getting too loud

But when he does, you bring your hand to his face and gently pry his lips apart with your thumb.

“You’re being naughty,” you say. “I want to hear your voice.”

Solas swallows, a bead of sweat trickling down his flushed face, and he nods obediently. “Yes, vhenan.”

after that, he’ll deign to not restrain himself so much, but restraint is so heavily entrenched in his being that you’ll need to remind him when he slips back into lip-biting

he. loves. being. at. your. mercy.

bondage, spanking, orgasm denial— all things he’d heavily fuck with. it’s a form of repentance, it’s pleasure, it’s pain, and it’s a release all in one. and you’re the only person he trusts enough to dole it out

LOOOOVES eating pussy (or sucking dick. yes he’s bi i decree it). he’ll happily go down until his jaw is sore, and probably beyond that

he loves to know that he’s doing a good job, that he’s pleasuring you right, and he is rock. fucking. hard. the whole time he’s doing it, even without stimulating himself

loves the aftercare just as much as he loves the act itself. just being safe, seen, and content with you chases away all the regret that he’s bound to feel later

secretly loves if you leave any visible hickeys on him, it’s a tangible sign of your love.

would never admit it, though. probably not even to you

if one of his particularly ballsy agents decide to point it out, he’ll glare silently until their resolve crumbles (which isn’t long when they remember solas is a dreamer who can kill them in their sleep) and they apologise

his agents quickly learn to never speak of solas’ hickeys ever again

probably cries during or after sex. just because it’s such a vulnerable experience.

you never judge him though, you simply hold him and kiss his tears away, which serves as both a balm to his aching soul and yet another knife to his conscience

slips into elven when he’s feeling particularly good. you have no idea what he’s saying, since much of it is obscure, but rest assured it’s the nastiest shit imaginable

which is probably why he’s saying it in elven and not in trade, where you would definitely understand him (he’s far too shy for that)

his ears!!! they’re insanely sensitive, even just a gentle touch on them can make him moan

when solas blushes, his ears get redder than his face does

sub!astarion (aka canon astarion) headcanons for the girlies and the babes (NSFW) (spoiler warning!);

Astarion appears to be a top-leaning switch. not necessarily out of preference, he likely performs sex differently depending on the partner, but more often than not is the one who has to do everything.

being with a dominant like yourself isn’t anything he hasn’t already done a thousand times before, but he must concede that sex with you has always felt somehow different. is it because you’re more skilled in the arts of intimacy than the vast majority of people he’s bedded, or simply because he had the choice in seducing you?

it could very well be both. you are a dominant of great talent, after all.

the first time you sleep together, it quickly becomes apparent what your intentions are and he readily submits to them. you toy with his body, cradle it, worship it while you ravish him. you can sense a performance from him, but that’s nothing you’re not used to— occasionally you’ve been with subs who think the louder they are the better the sex is. you’re accustomed to breaking past that wall.

astarion is no different.

he seems a little too eager, a little too excited by simple touches— you can tell he’s exaggerating. you want his real reactions.

you map every part of his body and take keen notes on parts of genuine arousal, his yelps of surprise, his deep sighs, his involuntary twitching.

it’s a challenge, and you doubt you’ve scratched the surface with him, but you accurately deduce some of his sensitive spots:

the points of his ears, his nipples, his collarbone.

it’s intriguing to you, how his most sensitive places are those that are far from the most obvious ones.

the first time you fuck, he cums with an intensity that he can’t remember having had before.

and all while you were going easy on him.

you sympathetically cringe at the thought of all the god-awful encounters he must’ve had with people before this, if one of your tamest nights was one of his best.

during your sexual encounters, you slowly notice more and more about his genuine enjoyments. but you notice one more thing too, one thing infinitely more important:

he’s unsure if he truly enjoys any of it at all.

he confesses to you his issues with sex, and like the good dom you are you cater to your sub’s— no, your partner’s — needs. it’s months before he’s ready to try again, but your patience is infinite for those you love.

once you resume your sex life, you start off tame again. tamer still than even your first night together, just to test the waters and make sure he’s comfortable.

astarion has learned to trust you in a way he’s never trusted anyone before, and likely won’t ever again. as the intensity begins to ramp up, he finds himself doing things with you that (given his backstory) he should probably balk at.

he lets you collar him, tease him, punish him, and occasionally even degrade him— because he knows it’s you. he knows you. there may not be many places where he’s safe, but by your side is a guarantee.

astarion is very vocal in bed. it starts out as dirty talk, but as he gets closer to cumming he talks less and moans more. whines more. pleads more. by the time he’s about to finish, he hasn’t said a word to you yet he’s told you everything you need to know.

whenever you go too far (which isn’t often), he pulls away a little. he’s not too good at using the safe word yet, but he’s improving. you know enough of his body, his mind, to know when he’s telling you to stop even if he’s not forming the words.

after every sexual encounter you have, without fail, you clean him up and rest with him. you cradle him in your arms and stroke your fingers through his perfect curls. you make sure that he’s okay with what you’ve just done, and reassure him that he can stop this at any time with no judgement.

it’s kind of annoying how nice you are to him, honestly. you’ve just given him a mind-blowing back-breaking orgasm, and you’re still coddling him? just how in the fuck is he supposed to pay you back for everything you do for him? he’s racking up one hells of a debt.

astarion has never had someone like you before, someone who seems to know him even better than he does. he loves that you’re patient and caring, that you’d give up sex entirely if he’d only ask, that he feels safe enough with you to relinquish control while knowing he still very much has it.

a submissive astarion is one that has reconciled — or has at least started the process of reconciling — with his past. one that has developed a trust so deep with his lover that he can feel comfortable with even the most scandalous of acts.

it will take time until he’s ready for the more aggressive side of being dominated, if he’ll ever be ready at all. but a soft dom is one he can very easily get taken from behind.

how astarion would treat his werewolf gf (SFW);

Astarion is not as surprised as one might’ve expected him to be. he’s likely had a lot of experience with lycanthropes of all kinds through Cazador (that bitch)

when you’re revealed to be a werewolf, the cogs in his mind are already turning for suggestive jokes he can make about it

you actually hear him (thanks to your superior hearing) in front of his tent mumbling them to himself as he workshops them

“‘Every good dog deserves a bone…’ hm… no, that sounds too seedy. Maybe… ‘if you’re a good little pup I’ll give you a… treat’? Gods, why is this so much harder than I thought?”

you have to cover your mouth to stop your hideous snickering. hearing his process on his meticulously crafted persona is simply too cute

you always end up turning the lines back onto him anyways. after all, if you’re the dog but he’s the one on all fours and begging, what does that make him?

astarion is a little disappointed that you can never wear silver, and he tells you so. it burns you to the touch, but also it would look so good on your gorgeous skin— isn’t a little bit of pain worth it for the fashion?

you throw garlic cloves at him for suggesting it. luckily for him the tadpole negates what damage that would normally do.

loves the bloodthirst. he’ll cheer you on when you’re getting worked up & rabid during battles

occasionally you’ll have bouts where all you crave is extreme violence. it’s quite manageable, they normally only happen when a full moon is close or when you’re in the middle of a particularly nasty fight.

one time, you tackled a man who’d targeted astarion and bit half his face off. you don’t even know why you did it, it just felt like the right thing to do at the time— and your adrenaline was running too fast for you to stop and think for a second

if astarion’s heart was still beating, he was sure it would’ve fluttered at that moment. seeing you defend him with such aggression was so… romantic

he had to resist the urge to pull you in for a kiss. at least while you still had the man’s face-skin in your mouth (did you eat it or spit it out?)

as your relationship shifts less from lust and more to love, he starts to express concerns over the darker parts of your curse.

astarion knows that while lycanthropy has a cure they’re often hard to find— and you’ve little interest in one at this point anyway. but doesn’t mean that doesn’t mean he can’t help you in other ways

when a full moon is coming and a horrific, agonising transformation is upon you, astarion stays by your side and tries to alleviate the pain by showing you have his support

after attempts of trying stronger and stronger pain-killing elixirs failed to make much of a difference, he decided that perhaps just being there with you was the better option

he’s by your side and resting your head on his lap, stroking your hair and offering the occasional word of encouragement

when it’s time to transform you get magically restrained and even still, he remains. sometimes he passes the hours with reading or embroidery, sometimes he tries to talk with you to see if you’re still in there

he hopes by doing this that you’ll learn to retain some control over yourself and you won’t need to be restrained each full moon. and it’s kind of working! once, he managed to calm you down enough to give you a little pat on the head— and that’s enough proof for him that you can best the beast

you’re not entirely sure if you believe him when he tells you that though

and as if astarion needed yet another reason to hate the gur, now he has one.

as a monster, they’ll be just as likely to hunt you. he won’t let them.

even if you have no strong feelings for the gur, astarion is brimming with more than enough spite and vitriol for both of you.

honestly, being a werewolf has made you two even closer than before. you can relate on certain issues now— you’re both bloodthirsty monsters, capable of losing all sense of control and reason, and when night falls is when the people of faerun should be the most fearful— for the night is your personal hunting ground.

astarion is very supportive of a lycanthrope partner (much like he is with a durge one) and will not judge you for it. when your control lapses, he reins you in, when you’re dealing with the pain of a pre and post-transformation, he helps you through it.

i said i was in bg3 hell babes and i meant it! here’s another drawing of my tav, chickie vierro. her default armour, camp clothes, and underwear (+ a little astarion for scale 🤭) backstory under the cut 💕

your vampire not-quite-boyfriend + the gang find out you’re a cheeky little pup (act i post-grove);

Lycanthropy wasn’t something you were born into like some. No, like most others bearing the curse you were infected with it. The transformation process was an excruciating, torturous one that is still branded into your very bones.

The bloodlust festers in you, day and night, like a splinter that’s burrowed too deep for you to dig out. It calls for you to rip, tear, dominate— kill. But you can suppress it. Mostly. You refuse to be one of the many werewolves that is controlled only by their base instincts.

But every full moon the beast blood takes you completely, and you have no choice but to transform. You never remember the night after you’ve turned back. Only brief snippets of red, pain, and fur.

Despite not tracking the stars, you can normally tell when a full moon’s coming because your body begins to ache, preparing itself to split open to birth the savage wolf that slumbers within. Usually you’d start your preparations to restrain yourself, to limit the carnage as much as possible.

But these aren’t usual times.

girls and babes, i’m in bg3 hell right now so i drew my werewolf tav chickie & the vamp boyf. also it’s been a year since i last posted lmao— am i coming back to write femdom reader x astarion fics????

william james moriarty is sexually attracted to idiots (and you’re the idiot);

at first glance, no one knows how the fuck a refined genius like William and a single-digit IQ buffoon manage to work

you’re vastly different people, after all. while William has enough brainpower to run all of England you have enough brawn to break it down by hand

you’re abnormally strong for your build, you always have been, and you tend to stray away from the law which is what attracted William’s interest in the first place

you became the brute force that would come in and fuck shit up whenever shit required fucking up, and you were more deadly barehanded than most people are equipped, so you became a “personal bodyguard” of sorts.

but holy shit were you dumb.

part of you hated being around william so much, because he’d say things and then someone else would reply with different things and you were always just completely lost

what’s going on? who does this dude want revenge on? how is will gonna get everyone out? who is this guy? how’d he find us? wait, did he find us or did we find him? i need a nap.

once you accompanied william on a train with a murder onboard. also onboard was william’s rival (another man who thought so hard it made your head hurt). and by the end of it you were still confused

“There’s just one thing I don’t understand…” you said, though it was a blatant lie, there were many things you didn’t understand. “Who was the killer?”

you remember the blank-faced stare from will and louis. those judgemental red eyes continue to bore into your soul.

but william found himself distressingly attracted to you anyway. he didn’t know why, but every time you opened your mouth and something stupid came out he was overcome with an urge to rip his suit in twain.

as you got to know each other better, he found himself seeking your presence whenever he could. you had a lot of stories about your life before you met him, and your comedic timing was impeccable. you seemed to be the only person who could make him laugh — genuinely, that is, not the “weird evil one” you always say he does.

before long you were paramours. there was no official conversation, there didn’t need to be, it was just where your relationship went naturally.

you’d spend as much time together as possible, and you came to notice that whenever you said one of your trademark idiot things that william would fix you with a hungry gaze. it wasn’t perceptible to the average person, but you’d known him so well at that point you could easily tell.

occasionally, whenever privacy permitted, he’d all but jump you once you were alone.

between his fervent kisses you’d ask, “Not that I’m against this—“ he steals your lips again, “but why’re you so excited all of a sudden?”

he pulls away and caresses your cheek, his eyes a mix of lust and adoration. “Darling, would you really prefer to talk when you could just take me?”

that never failed to get you going, which is why he’d say it. he wasn’t really looking forward to confronting that he got insta-hard whenever you acted stupid.

the only time he can hold himself back (other than being in public, that is) is when you’re injured or otherwise unwell. he gets so beside himself with worry that his persona cracks — just a little, but enough to be noticed by his brothers, and certainly more than anyone else can manage.

you stepped into the office one evening with blood pooling into the fabric of your shirt. Louis speaks up first, “You’ve been injured!” he all but yells as he rushes to grab a first aid kit.

you didn’t even seem to notice. you look down and jab at the wound. “Oh yeah, I did get lightly stabbed.”

Moran barks out, “You got stabbed?!”

“Lightly,” you correct him. “That guy William had me nab had a friend with him. I tried to grab him too but I uh… killed him. I didn’t try to snap his neck it just happened. Sorry, boss,” you say, nodding apologetically in William’s direction.

there’s very little to betray his emotions, but as soon as he saw your injury he bit the inside of his cheek. he shakes his head, his smile transfixed but now slightly strained. “Not at all. You did well. Once you get that wound treated you should get some rest, I’ll come see you soon.”

he doesn’t leave your side that night. you insist it’s not a big deal but he can’t bring himself to leave.

part of william hates that he puts you in danger regularly. the logical part knows that you’re near-superhuman with your uncanny strength and constitution, but the emotional part, the part that loves you so dearly it gets anxious when you’re not near, berates him for risking it anyway.

despite you being the one who’s injured, you hold will close and assure him that you’re not going anywhere. “I’d drag my sorry ass up from Hell to come back to you, Will,” you tell him. and you mean it. there’s scarce a force in this world or the next that could stop you.

he smiles a little and relaxes in your arms, inhaling your scent and tracing a finger along your muscles. “I know, my love.”

at first glance, no one knows how the fuck a refined genius like William and a single-digit IQ buffoon manage to work.