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#bg3 Eden
eeveenicks · 6 months
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Hi! From the 30 Questions for your Tav ask meme: #2, #5 and #24 :)
I may have written a bit more than I intended
2)What relationship did your Tav have with their family/guardian(s) growing up? Has that changed with age?
Eden’s mother was a tiefling, and her father was a cambion. She only met him a handful of times before he went off and died in the Blood War, so she doesn’t really think about or remember him. Given that he was, unfortunately, a son of Asmodeus, she’s heard more about him from strangers than her own mother.
Eden had a pretty good relationship with her mom, or at the very least not a bad one. They were kind of distant. I think on some level there was always a sense that Eden was some kind of devilspawn. She was definitely a bit more devil than a normal tiefling, and she wouldn’t argue with that assessment. It showed in appearance and personality. 
Eden’s mother passed on at some point when she was in her 20s. Life is hard for tieflings to begin with, and being the consort of a cambion alienated her from tiefling society years ago, and that took a toll on her health. 
Eden has never met any grandparents or extended family. Eden is 38 now and doesn’t think much about it anymore. 
She lies about her ancestry if anyone asks.  5) Did your Tav have any formal or informal employment? If yes, what was their job? If no, how did they make ends meet? How did they feel about it?
I’d say she was mostly employed informally. She’s a sorcerer so there’s always something that she’d be useful for. 
She took a lot of adventuring/hero type jobs because they paid well and she enjoyed the praise. She’s not necessarily “good” aligned but she’s good at acting the part and will do it when it suits her interests. She likes the effects doing good has on her public perception. It gets her better deals while trading or pretty much anything else. 
She traveled around a lot, not staying anywhere too long. She would prefer to leave after an adventure, leaving some air of mystery. It helped her avoid getting too close to anyone. 
She does have a sage background. She likes books more than people. She’s taken a few short-term professor-type jobs while pretending to be wizard. Somehow no one ever figured out she wasn’t. She’s proficient in deception.
Her scary high levels of charisma helped. She’d be sure to collect top dollar for any services rendered and rarely paid full price for anything.  24) What first impression does your Tav give off to strangers?
A very good one generally. She’s very charismatic, but not in a flashy way. She’s got a delightful customer service persona that she uses with just about everyone she meets. It’s so well done, you probably wouldn’t notice that delightful smile never reaches her eyes. She comes across as heroic, even. She’s got a way that makes her feel easy to talk to and trust.
This is intentional. Making people comfortable makes them easier to persuade, which most of the time is for good and practical reasons. Other times it’s to talk people straight off of a ledge, as was the case for so much of act 2. 
She’s not evil, but why get into a battle if you can just get the enemy to stab themself or walk off unknowingly to their death?
As good as her first impressions are, it would eventually become obvious it was a persona. Her actual nature is solitary and a little grim. Far too concerned with efficiency. Low on actual empathy. So, she’s usually gone before this is obvious.
Of the companions, the only ones she’s truly comfortable with are Karlach and Astarion. Compared to actual devils and Cazador, she’s a saint. She knows they wouldn’t judge her for being a little off. They get it. She could let the mask slip. 
She actually liked Raphael and felt more at ease around him since they were somewhat alike in all the ways she liked to pretend they weren’t. She would have probably taken his contract because fuck it, he’s gonna get killed by Asmodeus anyway, but it would have made her girlfriend Karlach sad :(
So she broke into Raphael’s house, robbed him blind, and killed him just to impress her girlfriend. This felt reasonable. 
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milktian · 10 months
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Ough they r so gender I lobm her
I think I messed up in character creation cause I meant for them to non binary but everyone keeps referring to her as like 'ma'am' or 'lady'. Like its fine, Eden was originally she/they in my head anyway but jsjkslsls
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multi-lefaiye · 5 months
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i like my oc relationships to be intensely and unhealthily devoted. romantic or otherwise. if they're normal about each other what's the Point
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ririarts · 7 months
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No amount of self-sought fury
Will bring back the glory of innocence
x
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songofsoma · 9 months
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until you see stars
pairing: karlach x f!tav words: 2,402 rating: explicit
read it on ao3
“I have something for you upstairs.”
She turned the words over in her mind as Daefina lingered outside the closed door. Karlach had disappeared into the room after making her promise to wait a few minutes before entering—apparently, it all had to be perfect. 
Daefina thought Karlach was already perfect. 
She had listened wordlessly to the sound of rustling fabric as she presumed clothes were being dropped to the floor. Her mouth salivated at the thought of her girlfriend’s bare body just on the other side of the door. 
Was she naked, though? Or was the surprise some sort of lingerie? Karlach in a strappy leather number that covered absolutely nothing flitted across her imagination. If it weren’t that, Daefina would have to change that soon. 
“Okay, you can come in.” Karlach’s voice filtered through into the hallway. Even muffled, she could hear the nerves intertwined with every word. It only piqued her curiosity more. 
Daefina slowly pushed the door open, making it a point to linger in the doorway as the anticipation in the room built. When she finally looked to see what awaited her, her breath caught in her throat. 
There sat Karlach on the edge of a four-poster bed. Her body was bare besides the harness around her hips, the black dildo swaying as she fidgeted. Golden eyes were wide with anxiety and excitement. 
Neither of them said anything for a long moment. Daefina was too busy burning the image before her to memory. She wished she had a lick of artistic talent to memorialize the scene before her so that she could look at it whenever she desired. 
“Do you…like it?” Karlach asked tentatively.
Daefina shut the door tightly behind her, flipping the lock into place for good measure. No one was going to interrupt them tonight. 
“Do I like it?” she parroted, coming closer to Karlach until she stood between her legs. “I think this is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Hands rested on muscular shoulders, Karlach’s skin hot to the touch as usual. 
Karlach caught Daefina’s hips, large hands splayed over her ass. “Gods, I’m glad. I was worried it would scare you off.”
Her eyes dropped from her face to the strap between them. There was something odd about it. Almost as if it were encapsulated by some sort of magical aura. Curiously, Daefina circled the tip with a finger and gawked as Karlach’s hips jolted and a harsh breath was sucked in through her teeth. 
“Paid extra for an enchantment that lets me feel everything,” she said through gritted teeth as Daefina stroked the shaft. “Definitely not used to that.”
A wicked smile curled Daefina’s lips. Slowly, she began to loosen the ties in the front of her corset top before inviting Karlach to be the one to undress her. 
Piece by piece, Karlach discarded the druid’s clothes, fingers trembling in anticipation as she did so until Daefina stood before her naked. 
“This may have been my surprise,” Daefina murmured, leaning down so her lips brushed Karlach’s ear. “But I am going to make you come so many times you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” She nibbled on her earlobe and between that and her sultry words Karlach groaned. 
“I am so fucked.” She heard her mutter, much to her amusement, fingers flexing on Daefina’s hips.
Daefina began to drag slow kisses down her neck, gently scraping her teeth against the tender flesh. She could hear Karlach’s breathing turn uneven when she sucked on a particular spot and she didn’t stop until there was a dark bruise left behind, marking Karlach as hers. 
Pleased with herself, Daefina pulled away, enjoying the hazy look in Karlach’s heavy-lidded eyes. That gaze turned curious when she dropped to her knees and pulled the tiefling’s hips closer to the edge of the bed. 
“I bet I can make you come just like this,” Daefina teased as she lightly ran her finger up and down the base of the toy. “Since you can feel every single thing.”
Proving her point, Karlach’s thighs already clenched around her at the smallest of touches. 
With a grin, Daefina leaned forward to brush a soft kiss against the tip, never breaking eye contact. Karlach swallowed hard. Then, as her hand wrapped around the base to keep it steady, Daefina bent her head and swirled her tongue around the plastic head. 
A strangled noise left Karlach and her hips bucked, but Daefina’s hands kept her in place. 
She dragged her tongue up her cock once, twice, and then a third until Karlach squirmed. 
Finally, her lips wrapped around the toy as she took it into her mouth, not minding the saliva that had already dribbled from her mouth to trail down her cock and pooling on her hand. When she began to bob her head, Karlach’s moans filled the room. 
“Fuck, baby,” she cried out, a hand going to grip Daefina’s hair, but then deciding against it. It was clear she wasn’t sure what to do. 
Daefina fumbled for that hand and placed it on the back of her head, inviting Karlach to use her for her own pleasure. 
Clawed fingers threaded through her hair. She was glad she had undone her braids earlier that night so she could feel the sting in her scalp as Karlach tugged at the loose tendrils. 
Her moans and gasps were making things hotter by the second. Daefina could feel her thighs becoming slick as her desire surmounted with every erotic noise. She would finish Karlach off like this and then ride her until she saw stars. And from the way things were looking, it wouldn’t be long.
Planting her hands on both Karlach’s thighs, Daefina braced herself before taking as much of her cock as she could. She gagged around the toy which made Karlach shudder and openly gape at her.
Using the hand wrapped in her hair, Karlach guided Daefina’s head up, marveling at the line of spit that clung to the tip and her mouth as she came up for air. 
“Are you okay?” Karlach asked, bewildered.
Daefina snorted. “I’ve gagged on a hot woman’s strap before. But not one that can feel every little thing.” Hands caressed the sides of her thighs. “And not one that I was madly in love with.”
The look on her face softened and she smiled. Quickly, she leaned down to catch Daefina’s wet lips in a kiss, hands cradling her cheeks. 
Daefina hummed into the kiss, allowing for a moment of sweetness. That was until Karlach’s breathing stuttered as her hand began to pump the length of the cock. 
“You want me to finish you off just like this?” she murmured, eyes still closed as their lips were a whisper apart. Her other hand curled around the back of Karlach’s neck, keeping her in place. 
Frantically she nodded while muttering something about being close.
The hand on her neck fell away and slipped between Karlach’s legs. The harness had left her cunt still exposed, allowing Daefina to easily push two fingers inside her from just how wet she was. She wanted to feel Karlach come around her hand, wanted to feel just how much she affected her. It helped that she had access to finger her while still taking advantage of the enchantment whatever wonderful wizard sold Karlach. 
Karlach moaned and bucked and shook as her orgasm rocked her. She was gasping for air like she had never breathed before in her life. Claws gripped the sheets so tightly, that Daefina was surprised the fabric didn’t tear. 
She let Karlach regain herself as she planted kisses on sweaty thighs before removing her fingers so she could taste her prize. Karlach hadn’t seemed to notice as she slowly re-entered the plane of existence. 
“So, I’m guessing the enchantment was worth it, hmm?” she teased.
Karlach looked down at her and nodded. “Fuck yeah. Never experienced anything like that ever.”
“That’s good.” Daefina rose and planted a hand on the center of Karlach’s chest. “Because I’m just getting started.”
Her eyes widened as Daefina climbed onto her lap, arms winding around her neck to kiss her passionately. Fingers tangled into Karlach’s coarse black hair, tugging gently to force soft groans to echo in the back of her throat. 
“Am I not allowed to fuck you now?” Karlach joked as lips found her neck once more.
“Not yet.” Her words were muffled by skin as she was concentrating on leaving another hickey next to its predecessor. 
When she was satisfied with her work, Daefina pulled back and looked between them. Using Karlach as leverage, she adjusted so she knelt just above the toy. With one hand keeping it steady, she slowly sank onto it, their moans melding together until their hips met. 
“Oh hells,” Karlach gasped, hands gripping Daefina’s hips for dear life. “There’s no way I’m going to last long.”
Chuckled breathlessly, Daefina rocked her hips experimentally, watching as Karlach’s face twisted in pleasure. Just grinding their hips together was maddening and knowing she could feel every inch of her was euphoric.
Finally, she pushed herself up, drawing out the motion to maximize the feeling, and sank back down.
“Fuck,” Karlach rasped, those hands holding her moved to cup her ass as Daefina set a steady pace, dragging out each movement. 
She allowed Karlach to aid her at a quicker pace, taking advantage of the strength in her arms from years of swinging battleaxes. 
Daefina ignored the burning strain in her thighs. Every muscle in her legs began to ache with the exertion. She would not let up, not until she was finished. 
Karlach’s hips moved to meet hers with every thrust as she searched for that second impending climax. Daefina could see it written all over her face in the way her bottom lip was caught between her teeth and the line between furrowed brows. Her breathing was labored as she buried her face in Daefina’s breasts to muffle the sounds of ecstasy unable to be contained by traitorous lips. 
“Fina—” Her cry was smothered by skin. And finally, the hands that had been guiding her pulled Daefina’s hips down hard to meet hers as she came, shoulders quivering. 
Daefina soothingly stroked Karlach’s hair, rolling her hips to milk out every last bit of pleasure, loving the way she shuddered with every movement. 
When she was steady enough to sit up once more, a dazed look still hung in her eye. “You’re trying to kill me.”
She shrugged with an innocent smile. “I hope not, I’m not finished.” 
Karlach allowed herself to be shoved back onto the mattress, amusement glittering in her amber gaze. She scooted back so her legs no longer hung off the bed and that her lover would have better leverage.
“At least kiss me first before you use me, she teased, fingers dancing over Daefina’s hips and thighs. 
Who was she to deny such a request? 
Daefina leaned forward, hands planted on either side of Karlach’s head, and she kissed her sweetly. “I love you,” she whispered after a moment and felt Karlach’s lips turn into a smile. 
“Happy to hear that with the way you’re torturing me.”
She laughed, pulling herself back up as hands came to rest on the ridges of muscle carved into her stomach. “Oh yeah, you hate this so much, huh?” Just for added effect, Daefina ground her hips into hers. It made Karlach’s smugness break with a throaty groan. 
“Okay, maybe it isn’t so bad,” she rasped, hands clutching her thighs for dear life. 
“Good, because I’m not stopping until I come too.”
There was no time to answer as she pushed herself up again and eased herself back down. Karlach, still being sensitive, arched her back with a gasp. It only egged Daefina on.
She bounced herself at as steady of pace as she could manage, her poor legs begging for a reprieve soon. But she was too occupied chasing her impending orgasm. 
Daefina tipped her head back, moaning and groping her own breasts. Pinching and twisting her nipples for added sensation. Frustratingly, it wasn’t enough. 
“Touch me, Karlach. Please ,” she whimpered. 
“Gods,” Karlach groaned. “My name in your mouth is so sexy.” She obeyed, a hand sneaking in between Daefina’s legs to begin rubbing her clit.
Her cries intensified as pleasure surged through her body. She was so close she could almost taste her release.
“That’s it, baby. Use me,” Karlach groaned, drinking in every little detail. 
A feeling like lightning shot through her as she tipped over the edge into ecstasy. Her vision blurred and her limbs went numb as she collapsed against Karlach’s chest, heaving and gasping for air. 
It was Karlach’s turn to soothe her, a hand caressing her back as she nuzzled the top of her head. 
“I don’t think I’ve had an orgasm like that in ages,” Daefina finally whispered. Her words were still broken as she struggled to even out her breathing. 
Karlach barked a laugh. “You’re fucking telling me.”
Slowly, Daefina pushed herself up to look at her, nearly melting at the adoration inscribed on every inch of her face. She kissed her again, long and slow, savoring every second their breaths melded into one. 
Hands slid up Daefina’s back, sharp nails lightly scratching the skin. It made her shiver.
Karlach’s kisses slipped from her lips to move to the corner of her mouth and then her jaw. “Another round?” she murmured. 
It was Daefina’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, but you have to fuck me instead, my legs are tired.”
Words turned into a squeal as she was rolled off and onto her back. Karlach hovered over her, their bodies flush against one another. “I think I can live with that. Why do you think I work out so much?”
“Oh, is that the reason you wake me up every morning grunting outside our tent to do pushups?” she asked with a grin, a fingertip tracing over the slope of Karlach’s nose. “The first time you got me all excited, only to find out you were just exercising.” Daefina rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. 
“Sorry to disappoint, but I think I can make that up to you. I refuse to leave a lady disappointed,” Karlach proclaimed before catching Daefina’s lips in a kiss once more, prepared to prove just how worth it those early morning pushups were.
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leopardmuffinxo · 1 year
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Edynn Va’harai
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archivist-the-knight · 4 months
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please lord give me a bountiful harvest or something
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himitsuuuy · 5 hours
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Durgetash x Heathers 1988
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sunstream7 · 6 months
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of course its ROLAN that gets me out of artblock
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fandomchokehold · 6 months
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Astarion listens to Sleep Token in a chill “I like their lyricism and listen to it with my earbuds in public” way
Gortash listens to Sleep Token in a cringe “I’m gonna make thirst traps that definitely violate tiktoks community guidelines” discord mod kinda way
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you know what song is SOOOOOO astarion coded???
"from eden" by Hozier.
"Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door"
SLITHERED HERE FROM EDEN!!! DEVIL REFERENCES!!! "Innocence died screaming????" U know how astarions innocence was ripped from him, his identity as a elf, his identity as him stolen??? by that BITCH????
"Like my MIRROR YEARS AGO??" Hes a vampire so he can't see himself in the mirror, and yet years ago when he was normal he could?? him telling tav that they're familiar to him like a mirror seems sweet at first, but soon reveals that he is a LIAR because his mirror will never be familiar to him--not since he was bitten.
"Babe There's something broken about this But I might be hoping about this Oh, what a sin"
UIJCENR{IJDO this line just capsulates Astarions thoughts about true love and i-
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moon8child · 7 months
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Just listening to Ascensionism by Sleep Token and this song is so Astarion coded it's insane
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elonianmisfit · 4 days
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my entry for @dmagedgoods make Raphael romanaceable event. His warlock gave him the crown and her heart. Big thanks to all of those in the discord who were there while I was making this.
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multi-lefaiye · 5 months
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single 🚫
taken 🚫
in a weirdly intense and devoted homoerotic friendship with my best friend in which we are each other's one true god ✔️
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verbenaa · 3 months
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to eden | chapter one
𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: Rin lays there, her back against the grass as she stares resolutely up at the sky overhead, little drops of dew like tiny diamonds hanging heavy from blades of grass.
“I have nothing to say to you, just so you know.” She refuses to look over to the place where Astarion lays mere inches from her as she says the words, but it doesn’t stop her from moving her hand to rest it down in the small gap of space between their bodies. 
It’s an offering, if nothing else, though it is one Rin doesn’t know if he will take.
“Well then, I suppose it’s a good thing that you so rarely have anything worthwhile to say.” Astarion’s words carry his usual unaffected haughtiness that has her eyes rolling despite herself, a small huff of annoyance escaping her lips. 
But as she feels the coolness of his skin against her own, clever fingers intertwining with her delicate ones using only the slightest bit of movement she thinks that maybe, just maybe there can also be a little room for hope in whatever this thing between them is.
✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧
In which Astarion and Rin learn how to bridge the gap, because maybe all that distance between them isn’t quite so large as they once thought.
A semi-retelling of events; focused on themes of learning trust, intimacy, and perhaps even love.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Astarion/Female Tav
𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: slight rivalmance, idiots to lovers, romance, adventure
𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 5.6k
𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: discussion of wild vampire bites, feeling EMOTIONS, astarion being astarion
𝑎/𝑛: hello and welcome to my delusions aka a multi chap fic about learning how love and build trust and intimacy because i want to help HEAL HIM ♡
ao3 here
masterlist
Rin’s eyes open blearily, gaze unfocused, as she blinks away the sleep from her eyes. She squints against the bright sunlight seeping in through the tent, the thickly woven blue and white fabric illuminated as diluted rays of sunshine beam down, tiny motes of dust drifting lazily through the air around her.
It takes her several moments to orient herself as she lays there unmoving on the bedroll—one second to remember who she is, another for where she is, and lastly, several seconds to remember exactly what it is she did the night before.
She drags her palms up to cover her eyes, limbs heavy as if weighted with steel as she groans into the emptiness of the tent that surrounds her.
“Oh, fuck.”
Rin lets her hands fall back down onto the threadbare blanket that covers her, fingers twirling around a pull in the weave, the motion a small comfort, as she forces herself to open her eyes once more, dark green irises focusing on the sunlight that shines in from above.
She narrows her eyes at the diffused orb of the sun where it hangs in the sky above, leveling a glare towards it as best as one can while still laying down in their bedroll far past the hours of dawn. 
“I suppose it would be too much to ask for a little bit of cloud cover.” Her words bounce around the tent, aimed at nothing in particular, exhaustion still pulling at her limbs as she sighs audibly, drawing herself up to her elbows slowly as she looks down at herself, eyes scanning over her form.
She was, thankfully, free of tentacles. A win for the day, if nothing else. 
The twinge of pain in her neck was a new one, though. 
Rin brings a hand up, letting fingertips running over the tender marks that now decorate the column of her neck. It was a miracle she even woke up at all in retrospect, nausea curling through her body as the lack of blood from the night’s prior events wreak havoc through her system with every move she makes.
She can see the evening before clearly, the clarity of it all still bright in her mind’s eye. She remembers the way his lips twisted as he spoke words intent to be persuasive and confident, but those eyes of his had held nothing but thinly veiled desperation despite his every attempt otherwise.
She doubts he’s even aware of it, how expressive that handsome face of his really is. How his lips pull down ever so slightly at the corners, how his lashes sometimes shutter over crimson irises with a subtle apprehension she doesn’t quite understand.
She has no plans to tell him, either—she knows better than to waste a good weapon when she sees it.
It was a duality Rin found to be confusing, so at odds with the image Astarion works hard to present and had so carefully cultivated himself to appear to be.
This is a gift. This is a gift. This is a gift.
The words replay in her head over and over again, as if they were a broken prayer she never wanted to learn for an unknown god she does not want to know.
She doesn’t want to hear them. 
Doesn’t want to hear him there in her head, that gratitude ruining her image of him so thoroughly that she no longer knows if she can ever go back to seeing him the way she had before.
The words claw into her mind and bury themselves there deep and she wishes she could rip them out, cut them away with shears of the sharpest steel to forget about that small bit of humanity she had seen within him.
Rin desperately wants to tell herself she won’t do it again, would never again agree to letting him partake in her but she knows such words would be in vain, despite everything she wants to tell herself otherwise. 
She wants to be wanted. Wants to be needed far too much to ever deny him such a thing, a weakness in her that grows with every passing moment with leaves of green unfurling into her empty heart.
Rin stops that particular line of thought, ripping it out of her tadpole-addled brain before it can grow—before it too can bury its roots deep inside her mind and tangle there in the space next to his words. It was far too dangerous a feeling, one she is not keen to indulge in even in the supposed safety of her own mind.
Her cheeks heat at the memory against her will; the silver of his hair burnished to soft gold by the glow of the nearby fire as he followed her down against her bedroll, the rough fabric scratching over her too sensitive skin. The feeling of his breath against her neck as he searched for a place to bite, the brief lick of his tongue there, his murmured words “yes right here, perfect, darling” before the sharpness of his fangs pierced her tender flesh. 
That icy knife of pain, lasting only a second, before he began to suck. The way her body had responded, a deep fire of her own answering to that frosted heat in her neck as he drank his fill, the soft curls of his hair brushing against her burning skin as his lips move along the blood spilling from her throat like rubies.
RIn shakes the memories from her mind—everything, all of it—with a clench of her fist in the blanket. With a soft groan she rises fully, letting the blanket fall from tensed fingers and onto her lap as she moves to sit, hands instead busying themselves with rubbing the last bits of sleep still clinging to her lashes.
At the rate her thoughts were going she was going to have to ask Lae’zel to put her out of her misery, perhaps sooner rather than later.
Perhaps it was the dear tadpole that now sits in the space behind her eyes, wriggling away with its sharpened teeth deep inside her skull, that is causing such troubling thoughts to enter her mind.
Rin raises her arms above her, limbs stretching high above as she lets the watery sunshine filter over the planes of her face, soaking up the weak beams of light as if they could cleanse her mind of everything that plagues her—of the tadpole, of this mess, of Astarion. 
She doesn’t understand him, doesn’t understand why he would choose her—the one who he seems to carry such disdain for, out of everyone in this band of misfits. Her relationship with Astarion was competitive and petty at best, his half-hearted attempts at charm the only time he ever came close to being something that could be considered civil.
Maybe Astarion simply thought her to be the least intelligent of their group which, in fairness, she perhaps couldn’t outright deny. Maybe he’s not quite so far off the mark with that assessment if her present decision making skills are anything to go by.
Rin grabs at the decanter of water sitting next to her bedroll, the glass gleaming as she uncorks it before bringing it to her lips, taking small sips as she surveys the now familiar interior of her small tent, the space a surprisingly grounding constant in her life despite the short amount she’s had to call it her own.
It’s bare, mostly. She didn’t have many belongings before her illithid kidnapping, much less what she had on her actual person when she was taken and then deposited onto the sandy shoreline with little grace. 
Not much but a worn bedroll and blanket sit in the center, several books found over the past weeks stacked unevenly in a corner still waiting to be read, a tarnished hand mirror she found sitting atop the stack.
Her lyre sits propped up against a tent pole, miraculously undamaged after everything so far, the carved wood darkened from years of use in the places where the tips of her fingers have learned to rest.
She sighs once more as she makes her way on her knees to the small basket she’s made use of as a table, turned upside down to hold the rest of the scattered belongings she has. 
Her leather bound notebook still sits open from where she scribbled down the events of last night, drops of ink decorating the page around her words (neatness never was her forte). She’s written so much over the years—bars of music, lyrics to songs, words she’d never had the bravery to say out loud and instead immortalized with cheap, watery ink on paper.
She moves past the journal and past the tie for her hair, fingers searching for the small vial of perfumed oil sitting next to a chipped mug filled with the blue flowers she had picked from the riverbank days ago, blooms now withered and drooping.
She had stolen the perfume off a table at one of the many market stalls back in the city some time ago, the aroma of syrupy honey and fresh blooming jasmine filling the air as she uncorks the small vial to dab it onto her wrists and the space behind the slight points of her ears, running whatever oil is leftover through the waves of darkened gold as they cascade down over delicate shoulders.
Rin grabs at the mirror sitting off to the side, picking it up to look at herself. Still the same as always, her eyes flitting over the reflection looking back at her—the smattering of freckles across her sun-warmed cheeks still remain, same messy dark blonde waves a handful as always, lips still plush and pink despite the blood lost last night. 
She changes out of her night shirt, tossing the wrinkled linen to the side to spread against her bedroll before pulling on a pair of leathers and a flowing linen tunic, laces still loose around her chest as she adjusts the collar to hopefully hide the bite mark adorning her neck before standing.
With one last fluff of her hair, Rin exits her tent, coming face to face with the full brunt of the Storm Coast sunshine.
She winces at the light, a hand coming up to shield her from the rays with a discontented noise as she makes her way to the fire roaring in the middle of camp, Gale stirring a pot of something with one hand as he holds a well-loved spell book in the other, brow furrowed as his eyes scan the faded text. 
“I trust you slept well, friend?” Gale’s smile is warm and frankly all too chipper for such an hour as Rin approaches, setting down the book in his hand onto a small side table setting next to him, the wood aged and wrinkled with years of use.
“Any sleep is a successful sleep when it means waking up without tentacles, don’t you think?” She grabs at the apple sitting next to the spell book, bringing it to her mouth and biting in the crisp, red flesh. It snaps as her teeth bite in, the juice coating her lips with a refreshing, familiar sweetness.
“Ah, yes, our good friend ceremorphosis.” Gale ladles her out what looks to be some sort of porridge into a bowl, handing it to her before launching into a monologue on said topic with a confidence Rin can only envy. 
Rin sits down on a conveniently placed stool next to Gale’s cooking pot, content to let him drone on about whatever he pleases as she listens to the cadence of his voice, hoping it will provide a successful distraction from the other thoughts moving relentlessly through her mind. 
Everything about Gale was warm—warm brown hair and warm brown eyes, warm demeanor and warm voice. So very unlike another member of their group that seems to occupy her thoughts with a worrying frequency.
Out of the corner of her eye she can see a certain white-haired vampire trying his hardest not to look her way, a puzzled expression poorly hidden across his features as he fiddles with his hair, fingers brushing through the strands as he sways slightly from foot to foot. 
His timing is poor as he glances up at her the moment her eyes flick over to him, their eyes meeting for the briefest of moments across camp before Astarion looks down again. He hastily grabs a book from his table and opens it at random, fingers forgetting to turn the pages as he simply looks down upon it without motion, body still as stone.
Rin blatantly ignores him as she moves her attention back to Gale as he drones on, nodding blandly and answering him when appropriate, giving him as much of her attention she can manage with Astarion pretending not to look her way.
“Thank you for such riveting discussion, Gale. And such good food too!” She interrupts Gale during his soliloquy, moving to stand as she takes the last bite of porridge in her bowl before setting it down amongst the other dirty dishes.
“I’m not sure how we’d ever survive without your talents at both conversation and cooking.” She lets herself wear a charming smile as her compliments hit home, Gale looking thoroughly pleased at her praise, standing up straighter as his smile widens.
“Ah, yes. Well, it is always an honor to be able to nourish both one’s mind and soul. And body.” Gale adds on the last bit hastily, drawing a chuckle from Rin as she leaves Gale where he stirs the porridge with a polite smile before steeling herself and sauntering over to where Astarion pretends to read his book by his tent.
“Too many big words on the page, Astarion?” She approaches him with a raised brow, nodding towards the book held open in his hands. “You haven’t turned it in quite awhile.”
“And here I thought you were trying not to look at me,” Astarion slams the book shut with an elegant motion, the pages clapping together audibly in the relative silence of the camp. “I can’t say blame you. I’d have a hard time not staring at myself too, if I were you.”
“Yes, well, your glaring ego does make it quite difficult to ignore, especially in such bright sunlight.” Rin crosses her arms as she leans back, bearing her weight on her hip as she cocks it to the side. “Good Morning, Astarion.” 
“And Good Morning to you, darling bard.” 
Astarion stretches out the syllables of the last two words, and the emphasis on them has Rin rolling her eyes despite how the words send something in her belly tumbling despite Astarion’s obvious insincerity.
Astarion sets his book down on a decorated table next to him before looking back at Rin, his eyes running up and down her body before settling onto the place where he left his mark on her neck, still half-hidden by her collar. His gaze is intense, something about the look in his eyes unsettling her as his eyes flick up to her own once more.
“How do you feel?” His question is surprisingly genuine, any trace of his usual persona far away as he waits for her answer.
She wasn’t quite sure what to expect from him, his usual attitude so at odds with these small pockets of sincerity that she has somehow managed to see twice in the past twelve hours. 
She hates it. 
“Concerned, Astarion?” Rin raises her brows in question before deciding to grant him as close to an real answer as she can, though she doesn’t fully understand why she finds herself leaning towards such honesty when it’s never served her terribly well in the past. “I’ve felt worse, don’t worry.” 
“That’s…good. It will pass.” He nods his head slightly, silver curls bobbing with the motion. His voice carries that same thread of sincerity, the sound of it disconcerting.
“Well, it certainly beats waking up in an unmarked grave.” Rin’s tone is light, breezy; the tilt of her head almost charming as she steers the conversation away from such perplexing emotions.
“I can arrange that, you know.” He picks up a knife from where it rests on the table next to him, examining the blade with the same air of casual indifference he does everything, a familiar wicked smirk playing on his lips. 
This is the Astarion she knows, the only version of him she is comfortable with knowing, and its reemergence has her confidence surging back with it. 
“Can you? I’m not so certain those hands of yours have ever done much digging.” She nods her head where he still holds the knife between perfectly manicured fingers.
The shadow that briefly crosses over his eyes at her words is gone as quickly as it comes, Astarion leaning ever so slightly into Rin’s space instead, the motion distracting her away from the question forming on her lips.
“Darling, if you want to know what these hands are capable of, all you have to do is ask and I’ll gladly give you a demonstration.”
The smile Rin gives him is saccharine as she lets her body relax the slightest bit towards his own, ever mindful of that knife still held between nimble fingers that could so very easily find a home in the spaces between her ribs.
“I’ll pass.” She keeps her smile sweet as she leans away, shooting him a sly wink over her shoulder as she turns to leave him where he stands in the over-bright light of day.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
The cave yawns above, the sound of their footsteps echoing high against the sharp stalactites that hang down like crooked teeth. Rin keeps her feet near silent as she makes her way down a small offshoot, the rest of her companions back at the mouth of the passage as she scouts ahead.
She’s not entirely sure what she’s even looking for, though any possible lead about their current predicament is better than what they have now. Slowly, she steps, careful to keep her footsteps light as she moves forward along the rocky ground beneath.
The darkness is heavy, cloying almost, the bit of darkvision from Rin’s partial elven heritage barely enough to help her see. Her ears perk slightly as she hears the smallest of noises behind her, the barest movement of a rock on the ground alerting her of his presence as she scents him behind her, the potent mix of bergamot and brandy one she has recently become more familiar with than she would like.
“Is that the slithering of a snake I hear behind me?” Rin whispers the words low into the air as she stops moving, not bothering to look over her shoulder to the place she knows Astarion sneaks from several paces behind, his own footsteps practically unintelligible against the ground as he draws nearer.
“Darling, you’ll have to say that once more because I’m quite certain I didn’t hear you right.” Utter disdain drips from the words, his scorn leaving Rin no choice but to steal a glance over her shoulder at him if only to witness the inevitable expression of contempt that decorates his elegant features, eyebrows drawing low over crimson eyes narrowed in her direction.
“Fine, have it your way.” She throws a smirk at him from over her shoulder as he approaches her. “Would a prowling panther suit you better, then? Though, frankly, I think you have more the air of a house cat than that of an actual predator.” 
A lie, but he didn’t have to know that. The disbelieving raise of his brow tells her all she needs to know about what he thinks of her comment, though.
“Well, if I am to be a cat then what does that make you? Perhaps a little mouse in need of a chase?” He tilts his head with feline grace as his eyes flit over her features.
Rin opens her mouth to say something—pink lips parting to let out a retort, an insult, anything she can to fill the space, unwilling to let him have the final say—when she hears it, a subtle sound farther up the path that draws both of their attentions, heads turning in sync.
A bang echoes out, louder now as it reverberates off the cave walls, followed by ringing silence left to fill the space. Before Rin can react she feels Astarion move, his elven reflexes far quicker than her own as he grabs for her. His hands fall to her waist as he walks them both backwards with quick, quiet steps into the shadows of the damp wall, his claret gaze narrowed as he stares at something she cannot yet see farther down the way. 
Warning bells go off in her head as her eyes search the darkness beyond to no avail, dread settling in her belly as the inky blackness gives no notion of unveiling whatever lays beyond it. She can feel the presence of the being as it no doubt wonders what dares to disturb its lair; its dark power oily as it radiates through the narrow space.
He’s barely breathing, she notices, his chest practically still as it only expands and releases with the slightest bit of movement. He no longer seems to try to hide his fangs, and she absently wonders how she was ever able to not see him for anything other than a vampire as she searches the planes of his face instead of looking at whatever it is that lay ahead—how could she have ever overlooked and dismissed what seems so obvious now?
He is a perfect predator, every inch of him screaming it with a certain darkness that seems undeniable, from the tension in his limbs to the brows dipped low over cunning eyes.
Rin looks away from him for only a moment, stealing a quick glance towards where Shadowheart and Karlach have too flattened themselves against the wall farther down as they try to blend as best as they can, the great axe in Karlach’s hands at the ready as Shadowheart practically glows in time with the pulse of her blessing from Shar.
Whatever it is ahead seems to be ill inclined at the very least to put in much effort to come searching for them, that same presence pushing no closer as the group all stand frozen, waiting.
She can feel the damp cold of the wall seeping in through the padding of her stolen armor, a chill sneaking in through the metallic plating that permeates into her skin. But it’s nothing compared to the feeling of where Astarion’s hand rests against her waist, the weight of his fingers resting above her hip heavy as they press into her.
Their armor brushes where their bodies touch, Astarion making the profile of their bodies as small as possible as he crowds her against the dripping wall, Rin barely daring to breathe for fear of the metals clinking against one another and drawing the attention of whatever it is that sits somewhere up ahead. She can feel the warmth in her cheeks, the slight flush stealing across her face with a telltale rosiness at the lack of space between them. 
Some small part of her takes notice of that power receding slightly, slinking away slowly though she pays it little mind, her thoughts so suddenly filled with him that everything else seems unimportant in the wake of his closeness.
The proximity is electrifying. 
Her mind whirls at the nearness, flitting back to the few times they’ve ever been so close—the memory of his body hovering over her own as cool lips move against her bloodied skin; that very first day on the beach, his body dragging hers down into dirty sand with a knife to her throat and those same cool lips speaking threats into her ear.
Blessedly, Rin thinks, he hasn’t yet truly noticed her scrutiny of him or the flush that stains pink across her cheeks. She is unable to look away from his face this close, her eyes memorizing the sharpness of his cheeks, the brightness of his eyes as his face still stares in the direction of the noise; his senses, vampiric or elven, searching for something she cannot even hope to find in that impenetrable darkness ahead. 
Slowly, as if summoning his attention with her thoughts, Astarion turns his head to look back in her direction. His gaze moves downward, no doubt taking notice of the slight pink of her cheeks as his plush lips widen into a smirk. 
Astarion steps in closer to her body, just slightly, but the effect is nothing short of exhilarating. Rin finds herself somehow closer to the wall, the hand at her waist pressing harder into her armor as his thumb brushes up and down in light motions that have the darkest parts of her she had hoped to ignore lamenting the barrier of their armor, wondering how his fingertips would feel against the softness of her skin instead. 
With a torturously slow motion, Astarion drags a hand up, barely brushing over the silhouette of her body as he raises his gloved fingers to rest on the exposed skin of her neck. Rin stands there frozen as his eyes stare into her own with an intensity she’s wholly unprepared for.
Lightly, Astarion brushes his fingers over the new marks there, twin spots of healing red high upon the skin of her neck, barely visible above the collar of her armor. Rin’s breath catches in her throat at the feeling, a shiver running down her body at the touch, much to her dismay, as Astarion eyes stay stuck to her neck.
“You tasted absolutely divine, darling.” His words are a whispered, heady thing as his eyes move up to look into hers once more, full of a certain promise Rin is unwilling to put a name to.
But the expression on his face is one of perfected, calculated seduction that he tries to hide beneath a hot gaze as he watches and waits for her reaction. Rin keeps her features neutral as she considers him, the lack of much of anything there dousing any embers building inside her.
Astarion looks at her as though she is something he can simply win with a good enough strategy, as though if he plays his imaginary cards right he will emerge as the victor of some unknown prize.
She can spot a mile away what this is to him, what she is to him. 
A game. 
And she’ll be damned if she lets him win.
Rin puts on her best coquettish smile, looking up at him from under dark lashes as she wets her bottom lip. 
She moves her hands from where they rest at her sides to slide up the armor of his chest, touch light as she stops just short of his collarbone, examining the sleek black material under her hands as her fingertips play with the artful metalwork. She raises her eyes to his own again, challenge rising to life in the deep emerald of her eyes.
Astarion leans in slightly towards her, his scent filling her nose at the closeness, the smirk playing on his lips deepening.
“Play your cards right, darling, and maybe I’ll let you have another taste.” Her words are sweetly mocking, whispered on an exhale as her palms move to press flat against the planes of his chest before pushing hard.
Astarion stumbles back a step, air coming between their bodies once more as he rights himself, a brief look of surprise crossing his features before a wicked smile takes its place.
A part of her regrets something in those words the minute they leave her mouth—something wrong about them she can’t quite put her finger on—but she brushes the feeling away, shoving it deep into the recesses of her mind to be analyzed later like she’s done for years and years as she breezes past Astarion with a victorious smirk, ponytail swishing. 
Rin makes her way back to where Shadowheart and Karlach wait, unwilling to take note of the look exchanged between the two of them as she approaches, the blush yet to recede from her cheeks.
“Well, I think we’d better find another way around, don’t you?” Rin gestures to Shadowheart, ignoring the curious raise of her brow as she begins to walk ahead, Karlach coming into step beside her.
“Whatever you say, boss.” Rin dislikes how wide Karlach’s smile is as she turns to look at the tiefling.
“Oh, hush. Not a word from either of you.” And with one last noise of exasperation, Rin finds her way to the front of the group to lead them onwards.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Rin glances up at Astarion over her cards, held between her fingers with the finesse she would any other weapon. Her eyes meet his own as they assess her, attempting to see through her strategy as his elegant fingers draw another card from the pile sitting between them, a fat candle melting wax onto the tabletop off to the side illuminating the woodgrain.
Shadowheart gives an exasperated sigh from her place next to Rin, her own hand of cards long since flung out onto the tabletop in defeat, arms crossed in front of her chest as she rolls of her eyes.
Astarion keeps his face still, careful to give no tells as he places two cards into play on the table and waits. A lucky hand, to be sure.
But as Rin draws the next card, bringing it up to her face to look at, she smiles wide, the card just the one she had predicted she would pull. She carefully places her cards onto the table face up, her own set trumping Astarion’s own. 
“I win.” Rin eyes Astarion with sheer triumph as she says the words. 
“I’m shocked, darling. I didn’t know you were such a little cheat.” Astarion’s words are mocking, though Rin swears she can see something akin to amusement in his gaze as he arches an elegant brow, adjusting his posture to lean back with an air of indifference.
“And here I thought you liked that sort of thing.” She preens in his direction, still bathing in the feeling of the win.
“You’re both awful. What a pair you two make.” Shadowheart stands with a noise of disgust, dark braid bouncing behind her as she leave them to move instead towards where the other group sits in front of the fire, conversing happily about something or other.
“Counting cards. Really?” There was no real point in denying Astarion’s accusation—she was, in fact, cheating.
But, then again, so was he.
“Oh, don’t pretend like you weren’t hiding a card up that sleeve of yours.” She nods to where he has an arm draped casually across the back of the wooden chair.
Rin grabs at the bottle of wine sitting on the tabletop, eager to busy her hands with something as she takes a swig to fill the silence. She still felt somewhat off-kilter following the interaction with Astarion earlier, could feel his eyes on her the rest of the afternoon, as if he was appraising some unknown part of her.
Her fingers play at the handmade label of the bottle, ink and parchment warped by drips of the dark red liquid. Her earlier words to him keep drifting in and out of her mind, unable to be dismissed. 
She had written it out earlier, still fresh from their exploration, wet quill moving hastily over the vellum as she organized her thoughts the only way she knows how, penmanship rushed as she wrote word after word kneeling upon the packed dirt with still-armored knees.
He confuses her, and while she may not trust him (though she’s unsure she ever has really trusted anyone), she doesn’t want to let him starve either. Despite all his misgivings and abrasive nature, she is loathe to withhold and force him to work for his food when she could provide it so very easily. 
Everyone deserved a chance to eat. 
Even beautiful, pompous, agitating vampires.
“I didn’t mean what I said earlier.” She swallows, fingertips running over the smooth, dark glass in her hands, looking everywhere but his face as she finally says the words that had been plaguing her thoughts. 
“You’ll have to clarify, darling. I don’t commit every silly little thing you say to memory.” So dismissive, as always. His consistency is a small comfort, at the very least. 
Rin sighs as she forces her hands to stop their motions, resting her elbows on the table instead, as her eyes finally drift to his face. Astarion looks as calm and unbothered as ever as he pretends to be uninterested in what she has to say, though she can see the slight tension along the edge of him, lining his shoulders and neck he surveys her with a guarded indifference as he waits for her to continue her words.
“What I said earlier, in the cave.” She lets her eyes meet his own, darkened jade staring into depthless incarnadine.
“You don’t have to do anything, Astarion, to get my blood.” That carefully cultivated guarded expression on his face falls, lips opening as if trying to find words, but nothing but air releasing on his breath.  
“I’ll give it to you, gladly. I won’t make you ask.” 
Astarion does nothing, says nothing as he sits there and stares at her, face blank as the candlelight flickers softly over his features. No clever words, no cunning smirk.
And with those parting words Rin stands to leave, unknowing of the weight that those few words carry as she places the empty wine bottle down on the worn wood and walks to her tent, Astarion still staring at her empty chair aside the slowly burning wick.
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theviridianbunny · 6 months
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But you think that I can't see what kind of man that you are If you're a man at all
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