ASTARION.

[bloodthieved]

independent, selective, mutuals and 20+ only rp blog. features a take on ASTARION, from the BALDUR'S GATE III universe. as adored by ODDITY ( he/him, 25+, gmt+8 ). NOTE, that i have yet to finish the game as of the time making this blog, but have no qualms with spoilers of any kind. due to the intrinsic nature of writing within this universe, this blog is not spoiler-free. * IMPORTANT. view this carrd prior to interaction !

[bloodthieved]

hi hello

[bloodthieved]

sorry to everyone who's waiting on stuff on here </3 i don't feel quite confident in this blog specifically yet. in the meantime, you can find me on my dnd / bg3 multimuse: @spectrals !!

[bloodthieved]

astarion was young—especially young in elvish terms—when he had mortality torn from his husk, thrust into eternity. only 39 when he was beaten within an inch of his life within the sordid, muck-caked streets of baldur's gate, where he was forced to choose between his own demise or undeath. with expiration lingering in the periphery of his eyes, he thought anything better than dying like a squashed rat in the streets.

how wrong he was. when he tore through his wooden coffin, inhaling dirt and grass and rock, sputtering and gagging, as he ripped his way to the surface, there stood cazador, waiting. a smile much like a shark flowed freely over his lips.

how small and insignificant 39 years is to 200 years of suffering.

[spectrals]

#SPECTRALS. it's sink or swim.

independent, selective, mutuals and 20+ only rp blog. features a variety of original characters from the D&D and BALDUR'S GATE universes. as adored by ODDITY ( he/him, 25+, gmt+8 ). please look to pinned post for relevant information.

[senobium-deactivated20230912]

That looks terribly heavy. Why don't you let me carry it for you....

[bloodthieved]

@frestoniia sent in.

‘  requited  love  is  nice,  but  it  doesn’t  make  much  of  a  ballad.  ’

Their odd, ragtag troupe, were amidst talkings of music. Curious thing, music was, how it could marry those whose teeth gnashed, finding common ground where there was once a jagged chasm, hoping one or the other to simply ... slip. Astarion made a few, short offhand comments here and there, but the beginning pangs of a stomach scorned served as a well enough distraction.

He felt eyes on his. Craig gave a little quip, a little smile, seemingly hoping to invite him back into the discussion. Astarion's gaze lifted up from his own boots, red on blue. He smirked, lopsided, and chuckled, practiced.

"It could make a ballad, but it'd get bland and repetitive quite fast," he said, teeth peeking just a sliver beyond his smirking lips. "Even unrequited love gets bland and repetitive fast. Come on, dears, have some imagination. That's been done ten thousand times over."

Love.

Love.

The notion jostled itself onto the main stage of his thoughts, just for a flicker. There was a part, a small, scraggly part, that thought love would be pure bliss—but the remaining chunk rationalised that wanting, craving genuine love was just unrealistic.

Love would be nice, but love wasn't meant for him.

[sadprosed]

𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬  𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺.

↬   THE  INFERNAL  DEVICES  SERIES   (  2010 - 2013  )  by  cassandra  clare.

sentences  taken  from  or  inspired  by  the  dialogue  from  the  series,  including  the  books  clockwork  angel,  clockwork  prince,  &  clockwork  princess.

+   feel  free  to  change  pronouns  /  roles  !

‘  one  must  always  be  careful  of  books,  and  what  is  inside  them.  ’

‘   we  live  and  breathe  words.  ’

‘  if  there  is  no  one  in  the  world  who  cares  for  you,  do  you  really  exist  at  all  ?  ’

‘  they  say  time  heals  all  wounds,  but  that  presumes  the  source  of  grief  is  finite.  ’

‘  requited  love  is  nice,  but  it  doesn’t  make  much  of  a  ballad.  ’

‘  i  am  not  the  one  of  us  who  has  no  heart.  ’

‘  i  haven’t  broken  his  heart  at  all.  ’

‘  you  don’t  know  that  there’s  only  oblivion  after  death.  ’

‘  if  you  have  the  soul  of  a  warrior,  you  are  a  warrior.  ’

‘  i  thought  we  could  at  least  talk  about  books.  ’

‘  there’s  plenty  of  sense  in  nonsense  sometimes,  if  you  wish  to  look  for  it.  ’

‘  pointless,  needless  suffering  and  pain  ?  i  don’t  suppose  it  would  help  if  i  told  you  that  was  the  way  life  is.  ’

‘  you  hurt  everyone.  everyone  whose  life  you  touch.  ’

‘  it’s  all  heartbreak,  death,  and  unrequited  love.  ’

‘  such  harsh  truths  so  early  in  the  morning  cannot  be  good  for  the  digestion.  ’

‘  hell  is  cold.  ’

‘  i  seek  scandal  and  low  companionship.  ’

‘  perhaps  we  do  need  a  chaperon.  ’

‘  death  could  be  imminent.  ’

‘  the  handsome  fellow  that’s  trying  to  rescue  you  from  a  hideous  fate  is  never  wrong.  ’

‘  i  have  lost  everything.  ’

‘  who  said  we  were  owed  happiness  ?  what  about  what  we  owe  others  ?  ’

‘  he’s  going  to  kill  someone.  or  get  us  killed.  ’

‘  clearly  the  word  excellent  means  something  else  on  this  side  of  the  atlantic.  ’

‘  you  may  hide  here  with  me,  if  you  wish.  ’

‘  with  god  on  your  side,  what  does  luck  matter  ?  ’

‘  are  you  highly  intoxicated  at  the  moment  ?  ’

‘  you  wish  to  marry  me  now  ?  ’

‘  entreat  me  not  to  leave  thee.  ’

‘  don’t  be  ordinary  like  that.  ’

‘  is  it  because  i’m  better  looking  than  you  ?  ’

‘  dreams  can  be  dangerous  things.  ’

‘  declarations  of  love  amuse  me.  ’

‘  be  prepared  to  swoon  at  my  finery.  ’

‘  i  don’t  believe  you  can  threaten  people  into  goodness.  ’

‘  finally  broke  down  and  admitted  you’re  in  love  with  me,  have  you  ?  ’

‘  i  say  this  out  of  pure  selfishness.  ’

‘  is  loyalty  still  a  commendable  quality  if  it  is  misdirected  ?  ’

‘  you  must  be  terribly  dull  witted.  ’

‘  you  need  not  be  so  careful.  i  will  not  break.  ’

‘  there  is  more  to  living  than  not  dying.  ’

‘  men  may  be  stronger,  but  it  is  women  who  endure.  ’

‘  was  there  ever  a  more  beautiful  sound  than  your  name  ?  ’

‘  we  do  not  have  to  carry  the  burden  of  their  choices  or  sins.  ’

‘  life  is  full  of  risks.  death  is  much  simpler.  ’

‘  you  serve  a  greater  cause.  your  life  is  not  yours  to  throw  away.  ’

‘  there  are  so  many  worse  things  than  death.  not  to  be  loved  or  not  to  be  able  to  love,  that  is  worse.  ’

‘  you  are  human.  never  think  that  you  are  not.  ’

‘  if  you’re  determined  to  follow  me  into  hell,  i  cannot  stop  you.  ’

‘  i’ve  always  wanted  to  see  hell.  doesn’t  everyone  ?  ’

‘  come  back  to  me,  for  i  cannot  bear  to  lose  all  my  heart.  ’

‘  i  am  catastrophically  in  love  with  you.  ’

‘   i  can  offer  you  my  heart,  though  i  have  no  idea  how  many  more  beats  it  shall  sustain.  ’

‘  our  souls  are  knit.  we  are  one  person.  ’

‘  i  do  not  want  to  sit  by  while  tragedy  comes  for  us.  ’

‘  i  am  leaving,  but  i  am  living.  i  will  not  be  gone  from  you  entirely.  ’

‘  they  say  that  you  cannot  love  two  people  at  once.  ’

‘  i  cannot  leave  you  to  face  death  alone.  ’

‘  when  i  breathe,  i  will  think  of  you,  for  without  you  i  would  have  been  dead  years  ago.  ’

‘  the  world  is  a  wheel.  when  we  rise  and  fall,  we  do  it  together.  ’

‘  you  are  the  first  dream  of  my  soul,  the  only  dream  i  was  unable  to  stop  myself  from  dreaming.  ’

‘  when  i  am  in  the  darkness,  i  want  to  think  of  it  in  the  light,  with  you.  ’

‘  heroes  endure  because  we  need  them.  not  for  their  own  sakes.  ’

‘  if  there  is  a  life  after  this  one,  let  me  meet  you  in  it.  ’

‘  life  is  a  book,  and  there  are  a  thousand  pages  i  have  not  yet  read.  ’

‘  words  have  the  power  to  change  us.  ’

[bloodthieved]

@princguard

do you have a link to your art? I would love to look!

honestly i've never like. settled on ONE place to put all my art because i'm awful at remembering to switch accounts so it's scattered between a couple of blogs, and some of it is on instagram too (which is kinda dead now so don't look there shhh)

but! here, have some of my favourite pieces! you may have to click on them for them to look OKAY because tumblr likes to squimsh things that aren't perfectly in-sync in terms of dimensions!

[bloodthieved]

despite being an artist myself and knowing the importance of holding up other artists, i'm often very much....... without money LMFAO and this is the first time in my life i've actually commissioned someone............ i'm excited???? to see my creation in another's light and vision?????? the commission is of xahillid, my astral elf and i'm positively BUZZING y'all

[bloodthieved]

your hair is going to be the end of me, astarion

[bloodthieved]

open.

Knelt down by a small stream, fingers dipped amidst, water lapping. It was cold, but it was a coldness that was unlike those cursed with eternity. There was something so very alive with this chill, something that instilled a prickle of hope into him. A wisp of a smile, devoid of any malice, curled Astarion’s lips.

Bliss caressed his cheek, filled his bosom with a joy he thought long lost. To think, he could walk amidst the sun’s gaze, walk into houses uninvited, tread running water … that sense of delight gobbled him up clean, and left little room for what unravelled around him. He knelt there, stayed there in silent appreciation.

He didn’t notice that who approached him from behind. Not until they stepped unto a dried leaf, the loud, layered crunch resonating deep and clear in his eardrum. Astarion spun around, landing ungracefully upon his posterior as lips pulled back into a grimace warped by shock, anger—unveiling fangs he oft sought to shroud.

“Don’t—! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

[bloodthieved]

thinkin of making another blog for two or three bg3 / dnd ocs................

[bloodthieved]

one of my ideas is a cleric prone to lying. a trainer liar, whetted and drawn down to precise, fatal accuracy. claims, and does have some of the spells equating to the life domain and also is excruciatingly aware of most of the lore of agricultural god, chauntea. in actuality, trickery domain, and seems to be accordance with the prince of lies, cyric, known infamously for the death of mystra and the resulting spellplague. plants himself amongst baldur's gate's prominent political scene, planting seeds of discord where possible.

and now, a warning for minor spoilers for the spelljammer dnd adventure:

my second idea: an astral elf; the second (unknown) son of emperor xavan. he is the youngest of the three, his birth and upbringing were heralded far away from his twin siblings. xavan knew there would be much contention for the throne, not only with his twin children, but a third added to the mix. held as a family secret much of his life, where he were to only have inklings of his connection with royalty. upon the emperor's demise, all of the family secrets let loose by close subordinates, xeleth endeavoured to do two things:

remove his sister from contention, by placing her on a doomed planet. and two, remove his newly realised brother from contention, by sending him as far as the stars could take him. it was one thing to have his sister, a known figure of royalty, be displaced, but he needed his brother gone. gone, gone, gone.

[bloodthieved]

thinkin of making another blog for two or three bg3 / dnd ocs................

[vampireascendant]

the lifebringer | cloak of cunning brume | wavemother's robe | gauntlet of the tyrant | white lashes

[senobium-deactivated20230912]

You saved me back there....

[bloodthieved]

@grimdarkfables.

The sky’s blue fell to a blushing purple upon evening, and later still, velvety darkness swathed overhead. Little light were to be blessed from the stars, however many they were, and the low crackle of the campfire was simultaneously soothing and humbling. Embers danced with uncertain pirouettes, spinning and twirling, high and low, narrowly escaping becoming one with the hungry flame once again.

They’d set up camp. They’d been run ragged by their last encounter, and the air was pregnant with the sorrows of those pained and hurt. No souls of their own were pried from their fleshy forms—the same could not be said for their foes.

Most had subsided for the night. All, aside from Bethanne and Astarion.

Their stations were directly adjacent to one another. He’d been attempting to indulge in some light reading, but seeing her in his periphery stalking about, flexing her bestial muscles and grunting and snorting … well, let’s just say it soured the mood a little. It was distracting.

Red eyes peered over. A soundless sigh, a thud of his book clamping close.

“Dear,” he began as he sauntered on over, a light chuckle tinging the air, a smile curling his lips, “must you insist on retaining this form? Surely it’s more—comfortable otherwise.”

Astarion felt the scorn of his stomach, the burning emptiness that demanded to be filled. But this was a pressing matter. How could he eventually meditate with knowing that this beast might simply succumb to a hunger similar to his, and perhaps go on a massacre? Not that he'd mind trimming this troupe down a little, but it was his hide he was most concerned about.