rainingmuses



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Astarion is quiet, when all is said and done.

    Casmir keeps a careful eye on him as they make their trek back to the inn, somewhere they can rest and heal. Astarion is unsteady on his feet, floaty, his ruby eyes glassy. As if he were miles and miles away from here, as if he were still in that Gods damned castle. He’s swallowed by Casmir’s undershirt, the only thing the tiefling had on hand that he could spare for him. Astarion’s pale face is stained copper with blood, clumps stuck in his hair and caught in his flickering lashes.

     

    (Or, Casmir takes care of Astarion after Cazador’s death.)

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    29 Aug 2024

  2. Public Bookmark 3

    Summary

    "Here is a story where everything goes wrong, here is a story where everyone has their back against the wall, here is a story where everyone is in pain and acting selfishly because if they don't, they'll die. Here is a story, not of good and evil, but of need against need against need, where everyone is at cross-purposes and everyone is to blame. How are you supposed to fall asleep to this?"

    Or, what happens to Thedas's heroes with the passing years.

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    05 Oct 2023

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Astarion moves his legs just slightly to press against Casmir’s broad shoulder, a teasing point of contact. The tiefling doesn’t shift away.

    But his hands still haven’t moved to tend to Astarion’s wound. “Can I touch you?”

    Astarion stares at them for a few moments, meeting that burning gaze, fanned by thick lashes. People don’t often ask him that—they just do. It didn’t matter whether he wanted them to or not, only that he was a pretty thing they wanted to get their hands on.

    He shakes his head before he can fade away into bad memories, blinking several times. He smirks instead, slipping into flirtation easily, eyes lidded and something like revulsion at himself bubbling in his gut, “As much as you’d like, my dear.”

     

    (Or, Astarion has had his consent revoked for over two centuries. Then he meets Casmir.)

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    03 Sep 2023

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Your fingers brush over the pages of the open sketchbook in your lap, a charcoal stick held in your other hand. You flick it over your knuckles, tounging at the back of your teeth as you allow your wrist to move with your flowing thoughts.

    You think of Astarion’s words from the first time you had caught him gazing into that broken mirror, fresh on your mind even if it feels like it’s been ages since you’d heard them.

     

    “I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. What you see.”

     

    (Or, you draw Astarion to show him what he looks like.)

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    03 Sep 2023

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “Allow me to make it up to you?” Essek heard himself ask, suddenly too soft, too genuine, all without his permission.

    Caleb cocked his head to the side just so, his eyes searching, lips caught parted halfway to whatever he’d been about to say before those words came tumbling out of Essek’s mouth. “How do you suggest?” he asked, that low, faintly rasping quality returning to his voice, his eyes catching the shifting light beautifully.

    What had he just told Caleb about the dangers of acting on impulse? Essek swallowed, his mouth dry suddenly. He held his hand out to Caleb, not trusting himself to speak. Wordlessly, a smile flickering at his lips, Caleb took his hand. Essek pulled him up to his feet.

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    24 Jul 2023