By Comfortintheunknown

by comfortintheunknown

send me 🕯️to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character.

@tryckthebard made the fatal mistake of befriending me. 😈

The moment Tryck followed her off the ship and into the streets of Nassau, Anne knew she was done for. It was one thing to speak plans into the air while at sea, drunk on intimacy and affection, but quite another to act on them in the full light of day on unsure shores. Every man she’d made the mistake of before (and now with) Tryck was a good talker. But a good doer? He would be the first.

And she would hang herself by his violin strings before admitting that she’d only learned the literal truth of being made weak in the knees at the thought of him now.

“Thyself shalt see the act. For, as thou urgest justice, be assured Thou shalt have justice more than thou desir’st,” Anne reads. It would appear she’s most ways through the thin book in her hands, and from the shine in her eyes, it’s clear there’s conflict afoot in the plot. It’s one of Anne’s favorite plays, having often been called dubbed Portia—and Kate, and Viola, and a few other notables—by her father in her youth. It isn’t hard to guess why. The trickiest bit of this scheme, Anne’s favorite meting out of true justice, is mere lines away when the bed creaks again.

As before, she glances up at check it; very much not as before, the occupant in it is clearly awake. Anne does a double take before removing her feet from the frame of the bed, the front two legs of her chair slamming back down on the floor.

On anon or not, tell me who you ship my character with.

❝ Ours is a union of duty. You would do well to remember that. ❞ Astarion , Arranged marriage sentences (because.. why not? )

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ* ARRANGED MARRIAGE SENTENCE STARTERS 2.0

Sea glass green eyes cut across from a space over his shoulder right into Astarion’s eyes. There’s the smallest twitch under her eye, a subtle flaring of the nostrils: Anne is about to to blow. It doesn’t take much to raise her ire, but this—the insulting treatment, the impotence of her position as the wife-to-be, the way he looks down his nose as her (metaphorically speaking) at seemingly every chance he gets—this is beginning to enrage her.

“And ye would do well to remember this: ours is a duty with an expiration date.” Til death do us part. “Instead of pushing that date up, were I you, I’d find a way to talk to my wife that weren’t so godsdamned condescending.”

❝ eugh, don’t be nice to me. it makes me want to be nice back. ❞ (from Astarion of course XD)

baldur's gate 3 starters (part 1)

Anne opens her mouth, her brows lowered, to argue with Astarion—it’s not being nice, it’s being even—when a new thought occurs and draws her brows up, mouth closing. If he doesn’t want to be “nice” back, she just won’t be “nice” in the first place. She shrugs and pockets the trinket instead.

“Say no more. Kindness be gone—poof!”