sanguisarcana

[sanguisarcana]

Oh hello new followers

For those who Roleplay Astarion, I am duplicate friendly as you can see I have a main twin @sanguisarcana (aka I lovingly yelled at them to be mains imkidding)

Anyway, feel free to pop into my dms with ideas or send me something in the inbox.

#{ yes yes. in this house we are duplicate friendly uwu #welcome one welcome all. have a look around. send something if u wanna! check out the folk i rp with #hit them up for a thread too if it's what tickles your fancy! they are lovely individuals all of them :D #i asked harley if i could reblog this cause i was lazy to write my own. this woman ENABLES me (love u harley) } #|| ❝ if the gods made anything better they kept it for themselves ❞ || ooc

[sanguisarcana]

“Is it honestly the chase that you miss? Because I think that what you truly desire, my dear,” body weight was balanced on a palm Astarion planted to the table while his index from the other hand curled under the cleric’s chin, coaxing her head to angle towards him until their eyes met.

Until Shadowheart realised there was no averting her stare from the cutthroat look of his blood moon eyes.

“...is to lose to me once more. Because now you know just how sweet defeat can taste, and you cannot help but crave for seconds, can you?”

Astarion tutted, skimming the pad of his thumb over rose tinted lips moist with burgundy and darkened by black currants from the wine. Some of it caught on his thumb, which he brought to his lips to kiss off the flavour.

“So you like the way I dress.” The pale elf concluded, angling back towards the table, part leaned part seated, to clutch its edges and fold his legs at the ankles. “How unusual. Most people prefer the way I undress.” Whatever impish playfulness his voice supplied was complemented by a rounded smirk on his end, one that was meant to echo the flirtatious mood Shadowheart so easily tapped into.

That is, until the cleric's mock impression of a vampire screamed Strahd von Zarovich and brought a chuckle to the spawn’s lips. Voiceless and cynical.

“I see someone has been rummaging through Gale's collection of vampiric entities throughout the centuries." An assortment of books depicting the most stereotypical vampires lords in the Forgotten Realms.

Lolling his head to the side with a lazy smile that was higher on one end and dripped with allure, Astarion looked off in mock exasperation before voicing a hoarse little rawr which dwindled into a snort. "Terrified yet?" He quipped.

"So offended," Shadowheart stated of his incredulous tone, amused that he'd taken it. It was true that it may have been a bit ... purposeful ... baiting. Only because she knew he might bite the hook (no pun intended) unlike the others who would take it in stride. She watches his approach, unmoving even as he dared her to another game, that sprung a laugh from her lips.

"It's been some time since then, though ... has it not?" She inquired almost innocently, catching his sleeve at the wrist, playful in tone and action, but not holding back the unsaid statement that they haven't had a moment like that, given all they've been through. "... since that little game of hide and seek ... and I think you'll find that I possess a little more advantages like you have. Namely ... some boots that assist with ... moving a little faster."

She was daring him a bit, that gleam in her eye very sharp, always up for the challenge, even if she thought (but would not admit aloud) that she might lose. Shadowheart was content ... regardless that they were having a moment to themselves, taking the chalice at the stem and toasting his with a small clink before a small sip was taken.

"Well ... while I may call it dated ... that doesn't mean I don't like it. Personally I think your look is not quite complete without the swish of a cloak. You could even grab a handful," She brought up her wrist to cover her mouth, eyes narrowing like she was miming a mischievous shadow. Something you may find as an illustration in a book of vampires, one that likely traveled to the masses as what they believed to be the norm. " ... put it up to your face like this and growl. I'd be intimidated, I assure you."

[ @sanguisarcana from here ]

#lunarrepel #|| ❝ what sweet venom it is the promise of freedom ❞ || act ii

[sanguisarcana]

The swell of a hyperbole never quite reached the vampire's silky voice. Crimson eyes deadpanned the young pirate lady for a second before the snide was registered, and his smile fell off into curled-lip sneer.

"Oh. You think I had a say on the matter, don't you?" Though Astarion was prone to obscenity of his own accord these days, choice was something new still. Something he's only ever had prior to his turning, and now, every night was spent by someone's side because he wanted it- not because he was made to. "Well, I suppose most people do."

Reaching for the wine glass filled with blood Astarion never cared to learn the source of, save for it being human, the vampire refilled his chalice halfway empty.

"It wasn't a choice, if that's what you are judging me for." Astarion was quick to add, unable to bay the resentment from his voice. "But from the moment sex goes from something you are forced to do to something you do of your own accord, it can have its appeal, yes."

"Two hundred years..." She couldn't even imagine living that long. Nami wasn't sure she wanted to. She was happy to be here, now --- though it had taken a number of years, and a few traumatic experiences to arrive at this point. And while she enjoyed her youth, she had no desire to be stuck in it.

"And thousands of lovers. Really?"

She was doing that math in her head, and doing her best to imagine it. It was almost cliché --- a hedonistic vampire. Vampire or not, she couldn't help her need to call his bluff.

"And that's not including people you've robbed, hm? Goodness. It's a wonder you're not bored with sex, altogether. Nice humble brag, by the way. Is that how you impress women?

#{ today is technically break from writing day buuuuuut- this was stronger than me } #|| ❝ measure twice. cut once ❞ || verse undefined #tw; sa mention #chatcambrioleur

[sanguisarcana]

I still think this is the best art with Ascended Astarion.

I see how many people draw whole comics about how bad everything will be with him in the future. I understand someone love angst, but sometimes I want a simple "they are both evil, they love each other and everything is fine with them" ^-^ artist: Schrodinger Cat

#|| ❝ my mad love ❞ || windwithinmyveins #|| ❝ all her blood will flood a river in my heart ❞ || durgestarion #tw; usft

[sanguisarcana]

I 🥺ed my way into this situation and I’m going to 🥺 my way out

#|| ❝ a crooked touch ❞ || musings

[sanguisarcana]

Just outside of camp, the moss-covered stones from a few of the more aged Baldurian winding paths were worn smooth from centuries on end of foot traffic. The air around them was heady with scents of nightfall and burning tinder, roasted meat and mulled wine spiced to perfection. Dappled shadows were cast by the canopy of trees overhead as they passed by the park. Astarion halted his steps to pluck a flower off the ground and held it out to the archdruid. It was a star flower. A small token to hopefully take the Halsin's mind off things for a while.

“What is a proper evening without flowers and wine to sweeten the deal?” It wasn’t too difficult to imagine why Astarion had become anyone’s favourite. He was a romantic at heart, bending every opportunity to his will, good or bad. Eros and Thanatos coalesced into a single being. “Though I’m afraid the wine itself will have to wait.”

As the two neared Sorcerous Sundries, a magical outburst of fireworks and sparkles assaulted the eyes. At night, the lively sounds of minstrels fiddling with their lutes and drunken laughter filled the air. Baldur’s Gate truly was a city that never rested. At some point, the pale elf even went from an empty pouch along with emptier hands to a full pocket and a bottle of Balduran’s Finest.

Nothing less should have been expected from a rogue of his calibre.

The trip to the shop was made quick and cheap by a mixture of charm and haggling expertise, leaving the place with Angelic Slumber in hand and a few extra coin the Astarion pocketed for later.

“Now all we have to do is to find you a proper bed." He chimed in. "And while I suspect that every surface turns soft when you are a bear, you look like you could use an actual mattress for once as opposed to your run-of-the-mill wicker carpet- or whatever that is that you normally sleep on. And I know just the place.”

A few steps later and they found themselves face to face with the Elfsong Tavern. An old haunt, for one, but nowhere as closely related to Astarion as the Blushing Mermaid had once been.

The Archdruid nodded in understanding. How often had he given the same advice to others? Talking, giving voice to fears and concerns, did something to take away the power they held when reverberating against the hollows of one's mind. Halsin believed that with ever fiber of his being, but the group had already experienced the horrors of Orin's trickery while wearing his face once. He didn't need to make them relive it by describing the scene from his perspective.

A curious brow raised at the spawn. Action? In a battle against the mind?

Astarion continued, and Halsin wearily waited for the point. Sorcerous Sundries was... overwhelming, to say the least. There were more tomes, scrolls, magical items, potions, and people than the Archdruid ever thought he'd see in one place. Potions of Angelic Slumber were incredibly rare, a unique potion that surpassed an elf's trance to provoke sleep--

Clarity dawned behind hazel eyes as Astarion finished. As achingly tired as he felt, he was playing a fool to believe rest and meditation would come easily to him tonight.

" --A wise suggestion, " Halsin commented with a small smile, " While I had hoped to never step foot into all that magical chaos again, I will take it as a worthy endeavor and no small mercy. "

He tilted his head toward the path that guided them out of camp and back to Baldur's Gate, glancing back at Astarion to ask, " Shall we? "

#alittlebitofmuse #|| ❝ my mouth filled with the aching taste of rebirth ❞ || act iii

[sanguisarcana]

"Well, yes. Where I come from, barbarity is normally paired with a deeper voice and a double chin. As well as a penchant for abrupt approaches."

Out there in society, a coarse behaviour was chiefly tied to ogres and men... less so to their female counterparts. Not to say Astarion was a stranger to a more crass approach from women on occasion.

"Oh, please." A chuckle wafted at her little quip there. "Two hundred years and thousands of lovers later are sure to wipe the stain of timidness from any person." From any monster too. "Not that I was ever shy to begin with. One simply doesn't expect to hear of a lady's desire mid-dinner very often- not that there's a problem with that, of course."

Her head tilted at him, penetrative gaze under dark lashes. She wasn't sure what her opinion of Astarion was, quite yet. He was interesting, even if the mere sight of blood made her queasy. She couldn't imagine drinking it. A little too pretty for her taste, but there was nothing wrong with pretty.

"Pirates aren't typically known for their tact," she states, matter-of-factly, cheek resting in her palm. "Hm... are you shy, Astarion?" Mischief glints in deep citrine eyes, a brow arching with playful intent.

#{ mcdying here scotty } #|| ❝ measure twice. cut once ❞ || verse undefined #chatcambrioleur

[sanguisarcana]

blasphemy prints | patreon (this is this month's print club postcard!)

#{ pasty af elf } #|| ❝ don't touch me ❞ || astarion ancunin #tw; usft

[sanguisarcana]

Astarion’s absence was marked by silence, and his return came without notice. Back in the elfsong tavern, the pale elf could be found by the wide array of strewn cushions around a hookah, book cradled in his hold and an engrossed look upon his face.

It would seem as though his gaze did not bother to so much as lift when the drow arrived along with the rest of their entourage.

And as the squad scattered about to seek for either food or conversation, filling the tavern room with laughter and life once more, the pale elf remained as he was. Far out and detached— like a shadow in the corner or a dark cloud looming overhead that folk only bothered to take notice of because it blocked the sun.

On the other hand, it would seem the hunt proved fruitful as the inkspill of bruises mapping out his body from before were all either gone or at the very least far less obvious to the naked eye.

There it was—the sound of her heart shattering. Or whatever she had in her chest, hurting so much that she felt like falling to her knees.

Don't go. Please.

It took a slick feeling on her fingers for her to notice that she had clawed her nails into her arms to the point of bleeding.

Please.

But this was no trivial matter; it was akin to handing Astarion a dagger and placing it against her throat, trusting he wouldn't slice it open—and…

…she actually trusted him not to do it.

"When you are done biting someone, please come back. I'll tell you. But please, come back." Was her voice always so quiet? Could he even hear it amidst the bustle of the city?

#windwithinmyveins #|| ❝ my mouth filled with the aching taste of rebirth ❞ || act iii

[sanguisarcana]

Nami's commentary came out of the left field. She almost reminded Astarion of himself when having a draught. Not only was the young woman a filthy little thief but also a demanding one to boot?

Astarion was starting to enjoy her company more by the second, even though Nami turned out to be insufferable sometimes.

"Only on occasion." The vampire took her handkerchief and wiped what splattered blood he could from his mouth and neck. The rest of it he'd have to wash. "Far be it for me to be a prude, but I certainly did not expect the remark."

@sanguisarcana replied to your post “Nobody's eating her out right now, and it's a...”:

*spits his mf drink. precious blood fell to waste today with that commentary*

​She hands him a handkerchief, her nose crinkling.

"Messy eater, hm?"

#{ gdi katie lmao } #|| ❝ measure twice. cut once ❞ || verse undefined #chatcambrioleur

[sanguisarcana]

"Ah, there it is." Astarion's visage took another turn, melting from mild offence back to appreciation. "From blundering tarrasque during its mating season to a beau straight out of Myth Drannor. You're a natural at this when you are not trying so hard to impress, you know?"

And that was where Karlach's charm truly lied. It wasn't subtle, but there was even a place of love reserved for those who were brutish and graceless… Dictum ac factum. A different flavour of charm, no doubt, but one that could be rummaged from the sincerity of her words and deeds.

Taking a step closer to Karlach - his Karlach - Astarion went for her hands and cupped them gently in his hold.

"I suppose that is what caught my attention the most." A pause and his shoulders shook in laughter. "Aside from your backlashes, of course." He was quick to add. "The ones that would make anyone cower in fear of having their spine snapped in half should they ever cross you."

There was an appeal to violence that Astarion himself couldn't explain so much as sit back and enjoy.

She watched him flit between several different things, and she cherished the very brief shift in his expression and it birthed a large pang of amusement that saw her grin crookedly at the vampire. The bulk of Karlach's seductive abilities had gone as follows: one - find out if they wanted to fuck her. Two - fuck them. Three - roll out of their beds long before they awoke, rinse and repeat.

Astarion was skilled at the craft, and she supposed he had to have been. A smile like his could bring entire cities to their knees- well, actually. It could bring her to her knees, and she had little doubt that he knew that well.

"Just as well I never set out to be a bard or a performer, isn't it?"

He turned on the charm as simply as one lit a candle and, not for the first time since they had met, Karlach felt a note of awe flit through her.

"Not going to be taking many lovers to bed, am I? I guess I will have to lean into the same brutish charm that attracted you, eh, Fangs?"

#infernaliscor #|| ❝ measure twice. cut once ❞ || verse undefined

[sanguisarcana]

🌺 send this to ten muns you think are wonderful 🌺

@wolf-eyes-wolf-soul || spreading some love

{ awww thank you!! right back at you, yeah? 🌸 }

#{ this is so sweet ahhhh 😭❤️ } #|| ❝ ask and you shall receive ❞ || asks #|| ❝ if the gods made anything better they kept it for themselves ❞ || ooc #wolfeyeswolfsoul

[sanguisarcana]

Carved from marble.

Sad/soft feels.

#|| ❝ don't touch me ❞ || astarion ancunin

[sanguisarcana]

@fiendrites @arcanecast @infernaliscor || spreading love today

{ mon, weds and fris are always the busiest days for me, so coming back to this was a delight to say the least. thank you qties <3 and right back at you! }

#{ using starry as mun icon just today cause im too sleepy to open up my editing stuff. thanks you guys <3 ; <; !! } #|| ❝ if the gods made anything better they kept it for themselves ❞ || ooc #|| ❝ ask and you shall receive ❞ || asks

[sanguisarcana]

I was so impressed in the Gauntlet. I didn't even know I could talk to Yurgir. My first Tav just attacked him. Now durge convinced him. He's so terrifyingly awesome. And Astarion approves that. A lot.

#{ this is one of my favourite moments in bg3 because #you actually get an astarion disapproves when he confronts you about ''talking'' instead of ''killing'' the orthon #and after astarion realises what you are doing you get an astarion approves right back lmao #astario the man that u are... } #|| ❝ don't touch me ❞ || astarion ancunin #tw; long post

[sanguisarcana]

"Are you serious?" Astarion's disbelief pulled his lips ajar. "So that's it? You just- cling on to someone else and we forget it ever happened?"

Astarion could smell a secret when it was poorly kept, sometimes when it wasn't, too. There was something that the drow had been hiding and he failed to adress thus far thinking she'd one day take on the initiative and do it herself. But now, everything pointed to the fact Ceres had every intention to keep on hiding things from him.

It was hard to hide the hurt in his eyes, or keep its strain from his voice.

"You know what? Fine." His jaw pulsed and, for a moment, Astarion couldn't bring himself to look at the drow lest she spotted the chip in his mask. "Do as you wish- I'm going to find myself another alley and, hopefully, I can sink my teeth into something there." Or someone.

Slimmer pickings where it pertained to animals in Baldurs' Gate have forced the vampire to up the ante of his meals- from four legged creatures, to two-legged bastards Astarion was certain no one would miss.

"You think you can win this one? Clearly, I don't owe you anything." The woman crossed her arms. "Fine, no clothes for you. I'll use the money to treat myself instead."

Perhaps a bath was in order; she disliked smelling like anyone other than Astarion. There was no need for him, or anyone else for that matter, to know. Why should she tell him anything in the first place?

Luckily, the others were already at the Elfsong Tavern, so he was the only one witnessing the embarrassing mistake.

Ignoring him would be difficult; she already felt the urge to touch him, but if there was one thing stronger than her desire for her favorite person, it was the pride of Bhaal's favorite with a Drow upbringing.

"So, are we going to stand here in the alley, or can we stubbornly wait it out while doing other things?"

#windwithinmyveins #|| ❝ my mouth filled with the aching taste of rebirth ❞ || act iii

[sanguisarcana]

Astarion's eyes fell to a narrow slant. Kindness? He bared his teeth without a shred of humour. Kindness and him did not exactly walk hand in hand. This was situational awareness at best- a mild concern towards a potential ally. Or so Astarion tried to tell himself.

"Oh, there's nothing to forgive." Baying the sentiment of disgust towards being kind, the pale elf put on his best smile along with that staged chuckle of his. "I was merely- passing by and figured you might need a pointy ear to talk to." His reasoning ran deeper than that, but Astarion settled with a lie as a sweetener. Something lighter to digest than the truth- Halsin had already been through plenty, and far be it for the pale elf to add any more distress to the archdruid's plate. "Sometimes it helps, you know? Talking. I mean, it's not about to solve any problems- that, my dear, takes some action in the mix."

Consideration lurked behind those crimson eyes, and a fang dug into the corner of his bottom lip.

"You see, as much as I despise Sorcerous Sundries and all of its sparkling paraphernalia - it's never easy on the eye - I do recall spotting a potion of Angelic Slumber the last we've been to it." Astarion only spoke after a pause long enough for the information to sink in before his words confirmed any possible suspicion the woodland elf might have had. "And seeing as that's the closest any of us elves will ever get to some actual sleep, what would you say to a little detour before we settle in for the night, hm?"

Astarion sounded surprised -- genuinely, not the feigned ignorance he sometimes displayed. Halsin started to shake his head to confirm he didn't recall, but... it didn't feel right. He did remember something -- this gruesome image -- and an ugly, dreadful feeling began to spread through his chest as the other elf continued.

" What--?! " Halsin gasped, hazel eyes wide with shock, horror, at the idea that he would ever do such a thing, " I would never--...! "

He stopped himself, fury and disgust rolling off him in waves as he glanced back at Scratch and the Owlbear. Of course he would never, but Orin undoubtedly would. A foul violation and cunning tactic -- for Orin to use his shape to kill and cause fear in their group -- and odious forethought to leave the memory with him as some twisted parting gift.

He grappled with his anger and another darker, more twisted feeling that lurked beneath it, watching Scratch carefully as the dog barked and yipped at the Owlbear. If not for Withers, the creature would be dead, and he would have died believing Halsin was responsible.

There was something gentle in Astarion's voice that pulled the Archdruid's attention from his spiraling thoughts. He tore his gaze from the playing creatures to look at the other elf. Halsin tried, and failed, to wipe the distraught look from his face as he listened. Astarion's hand was cool and comforting on his shoulder but did little to calm the boiling blood beneath the Archdruid's skin.

Insight, it dawned on him, was what the spawn offered. And perhaps a warning -- that this would be but the first memory he recalled. Had he not just recently -- finally -- freed himself from the grips of a memory that tormented him for nearly one hundred years? And now he was to prepare himself against Silvanus only knew what horrors his own mind would reveal to him? He eventually nodded slowly with some vague sense of understanding, and he suddenly realized he was very, very tired.

" ...Thank you, Astarion, " he said quietly, " This was... kind of you. "

Halsin took a step away from the other elf. He still felt sick, could still feel the blood on his hands and smell the metallic tang. Rest, he thought lamely, and meditation, and he would start to feel better.

" --Forgive me, although I'm certain I was unconscious for the majority of the ordeal, I feel as if I haven't rested in days, " he said with a hollow chuckle, a small smile that didn't reach his eyes, " I think I'll retire for the evening. "

#alittlebitofmuse #|| ❝ my mouth filled with the aching taste of rebirth ❞ || act iii