thinking about astarion's type but like bro what's the reference here...what DOES he actually like vs what does he pretend to hate but that's how you get him im just ????? shakes him around tell me??

happy that i have stuff going on here after months of wanting things thank you everypony, sadly i have to go to bed i am so tired !! but i will be here TOMORROW

astarion doesn't sleep deeply, it's rare the nights he isn't wasting away his life in that godforsaken place, but he does get a break. every now and then. he isn't used to some else roaming his apartment, a horrid little thing, it provides a roof, but it doesn't provide comfort or warmth. he stirs. the right crowd knows astarion is bad news, the wrong crowd thinks he's a fool, the type to make bad decisions, worse when in a tough spot. and right now as he exited his room quietly, the outlining of her. (be it key, salvation, the final piece of a messed up puzzle.) a shadow in the middle, contrasting with the lights from the window he does not need to close during the night, is perhaps the prime example of what a bad decision when in a tight spot looked like.

he is startled for a moment when she speaks. stays there in silence. a beat. and then another. he let's out a breath, and relaxes slightly when the knife is on the counter. there is a part of astarion that feels how knives seem to be so attracted to him, meant to cut and strip and get rid of the monsters that roam about the dark. he is one of them. the relief comes when he realizes it's not meant for him. not this one "i am a creature of the night, darling, i rarely get tired enough to sleep." he starts rather casually, astarion finds himself not disturbed by her. thinks that the company would do her some good. (or him for that matter). astarion makes his way to the couch, an old one. and it's rather ornate, out of place with the rest of the run down furniture. the silence is comfortable, but still there's an uneasiness he can't quite place. "-if you're hungry i know a place that's open." it's a light suggestion, and he makes himself stop staring. taking her in. hard not to when she's so... he isn't bothering to finish that thought. he doesn't know where it might lead. he stares out the window. a city that is always busy, a city that isn't quite. he knows that. there was a time where it brought him comfort, fun even. now he despises it.

she embodies an uncertainty and apprehension, going over and over the events as she wears grooves into the sodden carpet. black mold grows in the grout of the kitchen, lingering when she stares out the window into the dimly lit city before closing the curtains. a process repeated, a ritual born in the dreary kitchen. the air feels haunted with it all, something unsaid and unseen, something she can't quite unpick. (like a worm in an apple, like it's all leaking out when you sleep. nothing's quite remaining properly, sticking to your hands like honey when you run your fingers through your tattered hair.) pale hands hold it tightly, rotating over the wooden handle as she paces— insensate, desperate and clawing towards she fails to consume. nothing soothes it, longing and aching, terrified of her own potential.

a hand encircles her throat, fingertips pressed to the larynx— as if she's searching for something, dark eyes glistening in the dimming city lights. she toys with it again, not yet releasing it as she collars her throat with her hand. “ you can go back to sleep, ” in the silence, her voice is surprisingly soft. all of that longing stored between her teeth and stomach, wondering how deep she'd have to dig to find it all. but then she doesn't even turn around to say it. (you heard his steps, the rotten floor boards creaking with the slight weight of it. you're a little too attuned to this all, and without reason.) and she places the knife on the counter, the freed hand now tucking some hair behind her ear.

➜ @anquenin

I wanna do the bingo but astarion pulled out a knife on me 🙄

so i know that astarion staying as a spawn is like, the good ending but man is he having a miserable time...being a spawn has never been easy and like sure thank god cazador isn;t around anymore but astarion does not want to be a vampire anymore, he doesn't want to keep hiding, he doesn't want to feel like he's starving every single second of the day, killing can be fun and maiming can also be fun, and he's free but genuinely at what cost...

im just thinking about how astarion is touch starved where it matters, like hand holding, hugging, just...damn...someone hold him?

so like things happened and now i feel like a deflated balloon i can't explain it it's a lot, i just needed to say something...somewhere...i am not doing too good at the moment is all...

guys if you work in fashion or studying it and you make a dress please make sure a thread isn't sticking out before sending it in for a film because then i have to delete it off the screen and i have been doing this for 8 hours and its killing me it's destroying me my SHOULDER HURTS

i got a fc idea and it's a wrestler and like yeah no this is very self indulgent

making a palading durge who just was a complete failguy at being a paladin and then just became really good at being the chosen of bhaal but never stopped being a failguy because he keeps breaking his oath and how he is in charge of undoing the ONE plan he has managed to work until orin came and played scrambled eggs in his head so like this is good to me

you guys have no idea the self control I have to not be replying and writing instead of working I endure…

by the way astarion's ears twitch, like a cats, and they move around....you are welcome!

im awake, i have to work but i am around! feel free to chat me up on discord !

stayed up past my bedtime...gonna go snork mimimimi now

"well you're our fearless leader after all, darling..." he starts, content that he is able to stay far away from any ceremonial knife, and his blood is safetly kept away from shar and her silly trials.

astarion is about to protest when symon takes ahold of his knife. a pout takes over his face. he is busy staring at the blood being wasted, laments it for a second before the doors make a booming noise as they open, it interrupts his train of thought...he wonders for a moment when was the last time they did that. his eyes turn to symon then his dagger, which he takes and puts back into it's rightful place. he huffs at the line, the elderly first. he'll show him elderly. he starts walking, knowing that symon would follow soon enough.

"what ever was it that shar had said? vanquish your old life..." astarion certainly does not like the sound of that. a nervous feeling masked underneath his usual facade. he makes his way into the room, which is illuminated in a deep purple, rundown and unkept as the rest of the temple, stairs ahead and he senses something, his ears twitch faintly. something or someone is awaiting them further into the room. he feels more than he sees the shadows farther ahead move. "...looks like there's something's waiting for us." he states, rather cheery in hopes to further conceal the uneasiness the room has put him under.

Symon's about as keen to fight an orthon than he is to sit idle and freeze to death, but the threat of having to handle the moods of a tetchy elf on top of a frigid bench and mind-numbing boredom tips the scales in favour of Raphael's mark. Just slightly. Since the fight against the infernal creature was inevitable, spending a little less time in the deep-earth cold surrounded by Shar's undead is at least welcome.

Besides, doing his travelling companions the occasional favour isn't so bad.

(He laments the man he's become as late.)

The neighbouring trial has a similar antechamber to the first - sleek, empty and lusciously purple with a matching statue of Shar's torso in the centre. As they move closer to it, there's a sudden pressure against his temples and a cool, female voice pierces the space between his ears.

Vanquish your old life to receive my wisdom.

Sounds cheery.

The echo of Shar subsides in time for him to catch Astarion's words to him and-- well, Symon commends himself for only rolling his eyes a little.

"Funny how you're suddenly making this sound like my idea," he mutters, though picks up the knife without further complaint.

One look at the blade and he's grimacing. Sharran's were apparently not fastidious types: the edge is crusted with blood and, no doubt, a colourful selection of diseases for him to contract. Symon returns it to his spot on the bowl and lifts a dagger off Astarion's belt instead, making a shallow cut with the tip before the man can protest, and lets his blood run into the bowl until the doors ahead of them shift on their hinges and open.

He bows slightly, extending the dagger's handle back to Astarion.

"There we go, your lordship. Ladies and the elderly first."

it's exhilarating, to be in this position. astarion rarely gets to be right, rarely gets to have something going on for him in this place. but he knows, he knows he's right. this whole thing, this plan of his could blow up in his face, surely. she didn't look like the sort of gal who could just roll with it, she has buttons and astarion knows how to push them. sometimes. and it's not limited to him only, anything anyone else could set her off. he just needed her to cooperate. he half chuckles "-blackmail, why darling i would never." half a lie, no reason to blackmail when the truth is much more efficient.

the look in her eyes could kill, surely, and that's exactly what this god forsaken place needs. as long as that coldness and determination was pointed in the right direction, and far, far away from him. "-so it's settled then? we'll drink to this. and leave the talking when we're not here. there's ears everywhere." he in fact does not loose the grin, he just turns to the bartender and signals for two drinks. and he leans on the bar, looking at her. taking a moment even, he's giddy, excitement clear on his face. as soon as the drinks are placed in front of them, he doesn't grab his glass just yet. waiting, basking under the stare.

✉ ┊ ⇢ @anquenin　 ⋯　 inbox prompts (closed) !! ——— you and i are the only ones who can deal with this ⊰

Her lips curled into a sneer as she listened to his words, each one a bitter pill to swallow. Lihua despised the notion of being manipulated, his words were the truth and she hated the fact that she had to agree with him and that she had to play the good samaritan for people she could not care less about. of course he had long rose above that level of status within her, but she would not admit that to him, anybody else and especialy to herself.

❝ So you resort to blackmailing? Is that it? ❞

The glare she shot at him could have frozen fire, her eyes ablaze with a cold fury that dared him to challenge her further. She refused to concede an inch, refusing to let him see how much his words affected her. It wasn't exactly blackmailing if she gained something out of it herself, but she just needed something to disagree with him on, anything that didn't align with his plan or idea. If she had to fabricate things for that purpose, then so be it. As long as she made it clear that she hated it, she hated him (a blatant lie), and she hated everything to do with this place.

❝ Wipe that damn grin off your face. I need a drink, a proper one. ❞ It was a bad idea; she didn't trust this place or the bar. Besides, she was the type to get horribly drunk after just a quarter of a glass of wine and she will regret it.

im done with work i will write now heheh...

i think its so so so important for astarion to have someone be like hey man don't do this when it comes to ascending because in his head and in his mind there is like nothing better, there's no alternative there is no other choice BUT BUT one of his biggest regrets always has been letting cazador save him and turn him...a decision made out of fear and being put on the spot, kinda like the spot he is in for the acension, so to me it is like integral for someone to have the backbone to not fall for his little theatre show of like but im me and you like me and i would never BE LIKE THAT ! and be told like hey dude i am sure you do not need this actually, like being told that no actually he does not NEED to ascend....yeah yeah yeah i will always want to write that in threads