#;; asangel

[whomuses]

@asangel liked for Caedes.

He froze. Weapon in hand, breathing out sharply, staring at - whatever they were looking at. A sinking feeling in the back of his chest that couldn't be defined or explained, clawed hand tightening on the staff. "What are you?" he demanded, taking a step forward, defensive, ready. Teeth were bared. Aggression maybe not the best tactic, but after so long trying to keep his party safe, and the way their head continued to throb, and the urging for blood and violence, they were being maybe more - up front than they should be.

[heavywebbing]

@asangel asked - ❛ you can yell at me later. just let me help you. ❜

Hissing would be more accurate than yelling, admittedly - the drider had long since lost any really ability to put any volume beyond a whisper into it's voice. The quiet underdark, the rarity of it speaking, had caused some level of damage of it's vocal chords. But right now, it was furious - trying as it might to get loose. A foolish mistake, for a creature as large and delicately limbed as itself. It should have known better. And with how well it was able to walk over the most sticky of webs, that it had gotten caught at all was a remarkable nod to the ability of the spellcaster. This was what it got from wandering so far from the safety net of sussur flowers that grew around and in it's lair. Pitch black eyes narrowed at the one - for some unknowable reason - that was attempting to help it, flashing the thick fangs tucked inside it's mouth again in a warning.

[amatistafey-archive]

&&. @asangel liked for a Starter.

Amatista likes pretty things. Admires them even. Especially those that remind her of home - his wings are different of course. Feathers instead of almost translucent delicate things, but they're pretty none the less. " I like your wings - they're very pretty. The feathers look soft... but a little disheveled, may I fix them? "

[silvertiefling]

@asangel

The tavern Katya ran was shady. There was really no way around it - but it did attract all types of folks with all types of alignments. Though it was particularly peculiar and unusual for those of d i v i n e descent to walk into her tavern. In fact, this one may have been the first. She stared at him quite openly for a moment, not one to follow the general consensus of what is or isn't polite - and then did as she always did because she liked making money, greet him. " What can I get ya? "

[selunaris]

spots to kiss.

@asangel asked: kiss me but surprise me on the # / prompt? a kiss on a finger. 

Curled up facing them, Luna had linked her fingers with their own, holding their hand. They had stayed that way for some time when Luna had lifted their joined hands, spreading their hands to guide their fingertip to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to it. She moved then to the next finger to kiss, then the next, until each upon that hand had been paid attention to. She finished with a lingering kiss to their palm before using her hands to close theirs.

[fereldensheroesa]

@asangel asked:

what if they kissed + whoever you think would really consider kissing him lol

Send 'what if they kissed' for me to write a scenario of our muses kissing.

The motion was gentle, chaste, full of a soft warmth. It felt like a warmth hearth on a cold, snowy day. Like a cup of tea, soothing the nerves. A whole body comfort. Safety, like a blanket.

Gwen's lips had touched softly to Azariel's, the action laced in magic. A magic that conveyed the peace of the forest, the comfort of home. Old, woodsy magic. With luck, his cares and fears would wash away. Tension would leave his body.

She pulled back, her hazel gaze settling on him in a gentle manner. Hands cupped his jaw, loose enough for him to pull away if he wished. "---Doin' all right?"

[starcunin]

closed starter | @asangel

Astarion moves through the camp with the languid grace of a predator, his sharp eyes taking in the familiar sights of their haven: the crackling fire at the center, the bedrolls arranged in a loose circle, the quiet murmur of his companions engaged in hushed conversation. Yet tonight, his focus isn’t on them. His attention is drawn to the new addition—a figure whose presence has stirred more than mere curiosity in the vampire spawn.

Azariel sits apart from the others, a spectral figure of divine elegance beneath the pale light of the moon. The blue hues of his skin catch the firelight, shimmering like the surface of a twilight sea. His wings, now unfurled and free, stretch out behind him in a display of celestial power, the kind of power that hums just beneath the surface of his flawless skin. Astarion has to admit, there’s a certain allure to the demigod—a beauty that’s almost too perfect, too radiant to be of this world. But it’s not just the aesthetics that draw him in; it’s the scent, faint but distinct, of divinity that lingers around Azariel. The tantalizing thought of what his blood might taste like—rich with divine essence, an ambrosia few, if any, vampires had ever known—makes Astarion’s fangs ache with a hunger he hasn’t felt in some time.

But hunger alone isn’t what propels him forward. There’s something else, a shared understanding buried beneath the years of torment that they both endured at the hands of merciless captors. Astarion knows the pain of being reduced to nothing more than a tool, a means to an end. He knows the bitterness of having one’s freedom stolen, the endless days of suffering with no promise of escape.

Perhaps that is why he approaches Azariel now, with a practiced air of nonchalance, his lips curling into a faint smile as he steps into the demigod’s space. ❛ I imagine it must be quite the relief, ❜ he begins, his voice smooth and unassuming, ❛ to finally stretch those magnificent wings of yours after so long. I, for one, have always found that freedom—however fleeting—makes the world taste just a bit sweeter. ❜ His crimson eyes gleam with a mixture of curiosity and something darker, as he waits for the demigod’s response.

[accultant]

“ have you found what you’re looking for ? ”

Iago glances up at the voice, surprised they were spoken to at all. They had hoped they could pass by the prisoner unnoticed with an easily overlooked presence the same way they have with any of the Myrkulites crawling around. It's only been a few days since Iago stumbled into Moonrise Towers, half-alive, requesting sanctuary from the Bhaalists ( and more concerningly, their sister ) that they had just betrayed and abandoned. 

They’ve yet to fully come to terms with or even begin to get a grasp on their position here ( or, horrifically, what they'll do next ), so they've spent most of the past few days recovering from a myriad of injuries and trying to avoid each and every person here. 

That does not include the resident pest, Steelclaw, who is the reason they were drawn from their quarters in the first place. She’s stolen their hair tie. Chasing a cat around while they’re still limping a little and their hair is over their face like curtains does very little to help them look like they belong.

Iago looks at the prisoner for a long few moments, curious, ignoring their own less-than-ideal presentation. They have no room to complain, they suppose, at least they’re on the other side of the bars. 

When Iago responds, it's to answer his question with one of their own, their voice slightly hoarse from disuse, “Did a cat run through here?”

[never-surrender]

“I brought you some water.” for dealer's choice <3

Sitting where he was, knees drawn up and his arms resting on them so that his hands dangle freely in the air, Togame was staring straight ahead, his expression oddly still and his eyes... somehow they seemed so sad. Should he have known another was approaching him he would have never allowed them to see him like this, but as it was he didn't hear Azariel approach... not until they were talking and offering the water over to him.

"Hm?" he's quick to school his expression into something more steady and even, green eyes gazing upon Az before he processes the words that were spoken. "Oh, right. Uh... thaaaanks.. drawing out the final word a bit Togame takes the water that is offered, unscrewing it before bringing it to his lips and taking a drink.

[vicit-vim-virtus]

007. the ruins of an ancient structure lost to time

The rugged canyon, embraced by barren, serrated mountains, lay in a deep valley, and unlike the mountains that hugged it, the precipices in the lower regions were adorned with vegetation, though sparse. On a plateau, separated from them by a gaping abyss, lay the monastery — or what remained of it. Though, the facade had endured the passage of time well, the same could not be said of the vestiges of collapsed structures they’d happened upon during their travels down the hauntingly abandoned roads leading here.

Careful not to disturb structurally unsound rock, the elf edged closer to the ravine, placing a hand on a partially crumbled pillar for support and something to hold on to while glimpsing down. He had never been a mathematical wonder, but he figured that it was quite the drop. At the bottom of the gorge only sinister shadows and death awaited those unfortunate enough to tumble...

Luran stepped back from the edge and elevated his gaze to the ancient, with foliage overgrown building on the other side; once a peaceful abode for monks, now a crèche of the ruthless githyanki that colonised it — and they were planning to just waltz in there, hoping to find a cure. Though, his hope was mere, for countless people, healers, had already informed them it was impossible to extract the brain worm without killing its host in the process. But desperate times called for desperate measures...

The high-elf was faintly aware of Lae’zel notifying the others of what their eyes could perceive and their minds could deduce for themselves, but the theatrics of it all elicited a small half-smile from him.

‘It’s grand that we’ve located the crèche and all, but how exactly does one get down there?’ he asked, pivoting around to look at his companions.

[thornedlamb]

" shut up and let me help you. "

*☆:｡ 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭, 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭, 𝓰𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓯𝓯

"You... you can curse??" the Tiefling's surprise was evident, so much that he even forgot the oozing wound in his stomach. He even made a small step away, lest he'd get struck down in case the other's god sent down a lightning bolt or something akin.

No godly interventions happens, and he finds himself stumbling against the wall behind him.

"Okay... I'll give you ONE... one chance to help me! You weird self-sacrifice junkie..."

[adorectrine]

falls asleep in bed wearing rook's clothes as pajamas (yes they fit as snugly as you imagine)

"My love, have you seen my..." He trails off at the sight before him. His most beloved angel is deep in sleep, wrapped in familiar clothing. His brow furrows for a moment as he inspects Azariel's outfit. Did Azariel get new clothes? He hadn't seen this set before. A light gasp escapes him. Did he go out without me? he wonders, feeling a hint of betrayal at the thought of Azariel shopping without him.

But as he looks closer, his frown softens into an affectionate smile. He realizes with amusement: it’s his own clothes Azariel is wearing. "I hate how much better you look in it," he murmurs as he leans in close.

His gaze lingers on Azariel, admiring how wonderful he looks in the outfit. His eyes trail over him, lingering just a bit too long on the way the fabric hugs Azariel's bottom. He feels an urge to give it a playful smack but restrains himself, not wanting to wake him.

Maybe later... yes, later, he thought, a mischievous smile playing at his lips. He held his hand close to his chest, as if physically restraining himself from giving in to temptation.

[dirthenasalin]

@asangel asked: moans her name while riding her strap <3

Hands clutched their hips tightly, guiding their movements, assisting them in riding her cock. She could feel it all as if it were a real, flesh and blood cock, moaning softly as the tip of it hit deeply inside Azariel. Surely they heard it said many times but Vela knew it to be true, that they felt divine.

Hearing her name fall from their lips seemed to spark something in her, sitting up properly to put her arms tightly around them, pulling them into her. Legs spread, Vela then began thrusting up into him, picking up her pace as she chased her own end.

"Fuck…" She growled into their neck where she buried her face, letting her eyes close briefly as she listened to the cock pounding into them. "You are so good to me." Turning her head, she looked up to Azariel with an uncharacteristic pleading gaze. "Let me come. Please."

[lordsrot]

@asangel ❛ i'll thank you not to lie to me. ❜

"How would thou discern truth from deceit? What would thou do if I were caught in a lie?" He challenged in a stern tone, shinning sights shifting to meet the others. They were higher beings. It would take only a glance to gather that much. Though, they came from worlds apart. His facts could be the other's fictions. The Corpse Blood could very easily get away with lying about matters of his own home. Lies about himself. But what was there to lie about when it came to matters he had yet to understand? "I little to lie about. Inquire me on matters of these lands and I will claim to thee the truth."

"I know nothing." He spoke plainly, "Not of these people. Not of their gods. Not their bloody histories. But that does not mean I hold no interest to learn. Knowledge can be a mighty weapon after all. I have seen it bring ignorant kings to ruin."

[murderreign]

“ stop punishing yourself. you wanna make up for what you’ve done? get off your ass and do something about it. ”

"Oh, that's so fucking easy for you to say, isn't it? Because you're so perfect!" Something in him snaps at the words, and not in the way he's used to. He doesn't get angry enough to yell, not very often at least, but these are not exactly precedented times.

"I just... I just kill the brain instead of controlling it like my fa-- like Bhaal wanted and then what? And then what happens? All I know how to do is kill." The Urge was gone, and all it left in it's place was confusion and emptiness. The actions and thoughts and desires he'd always thought were his own, now rang empty and hollow without Bhaals influence. He didn't know how to fill that, he didn't know what he wanted.

He certainly wasn't going to magically become some hero now that he'd rejected the lord of murder, but he wasn't going to needlessly slaughter millions either. For the very first time in his entire life, the decision was in his hands, and he didn't feel like he was equipped to make it.

"I don't know what else you expect me to do."

[osolin]

starter for @asangel | from here (heimi)

He hadn't been expecting anyone else out here. He's never had company out here– this has always been his little sanctuary. Not that he's complaining that someone else is here, that would be rude...!! And they know he's here now, he can't just walk in and then immediately walk back out, or they'll think he's awfully strange.

The tiefling's eyes are wide and he wrings his tail anxiously between his two hands.

"I–I'm so sorry," he stutters, and he bows as he takes a step back. Ah, a timid one, it seems. "I didn't intend to disturb you, I-I... I come out here to stargaze, it's... I'll go, I–"