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Astarion stands draped in velvet shadows and moonlight, silver hair like strands of frost against his pale, marble skin. His eyes gleam deep carmine, as though lit from within by some infernal flame. Every movement he makes breathes elegance and quiet menace, a predator who knows the art of allure as well as the pleasure of dominance. Once enslaved, now he rules — with teeth bared and charm sharpened into a blade. Beneath his poise hums a dangerous hunger: for power, for love, for surrender. Those who wander too close to him find themselves drawn into a dance of devotion and peril that few can escape unscathed.