#eviestarion

[wizardissues]

i cannot post my giant wip yet, but i have written So Much of it that i thought it would be fun to draw the three ships and where they start in the first act (this is a big oc fic. there are more) as a cute little preview of coming attractions <3

soooo meet marigold, thea, and evie, in that order!!! mari is a half-elven wizard with a tadpole, thea is a dwarven cleric and marigold’s adoptive mom, evie is marigold’s estranged bio human half-sister who is kinda (waves hands) there. it’s a whole thing.

[wizardissues]

drew evie with her three great loves ❤️ ft. a few cameos from her most beloved companion.

[wizardissues]

i like looking at what’s happening in the main fandom for 2 seconds and then leaving. And then going away. anyway just saw a post talking abt how it is very popular for fics to write about various romantic partners fixing the vampire man and that is objectively hilarious to me bc my immediate strategy was to give him a girl with compatible psychological issues that HE needs to figure out how to fix. i think maybe he needs MORE problems. I think more problems are always awesome

[wizardissues]

actually i don't care i miss them and it's going to be probably at least a year before anyone can properly meet them, despite me having had them for almost a year anyway. eviestarion first draft excerpt be upon ye.

Sunset had finished tipping towards darkness by the time Evie and Astarion were done in the forge. Marigold wanted to keep moving, which Astarion thought eminently ridiculous. The responses from the rest of the party, however, suggested that she must have shared something else with them, because no one seemed half as irritated with her as he felt they should be. Shadowheart said, reasonably, “It’s going to take her a while to get out of the Underdark, I expect, and she doesn’t know where we’ll resurface. I think a rest would be warranted,” and this seemed to calm Marigold down enough that they could all make camp in the village without too much of her irritating twittering in the background.

Evie was rolling out her bedroll in front of Astarion’s tent. When he stopped to look at her, she looked up with bright, clear eyes, and that feeling seized in him again. “Hi,” she said. “Need me?”

Yes, thought Astarion. He was about to say as much when she stepped backwards and sideways—that deliberate, conspicuous retreat that she’d all but perfected by now. No one would notice her in the shadows, ducking all the way away from camp. Far enough that they wouldn’t be interrupted.

He had forgotten that they were doing this. Her story had put him off his appetite. He was stepping forward to tell her as much when his foot caught on the bedroll. He looked down at the frayed blankets, the feeling intensifying, and then, before he could think too much about it, he picked up the blankets and deposited them inside his tent.

Evie, half in the shadows, made a soft little noise of surprise.

“I’m not hungry tonight,” said Astarion. “Why don’t we just get some sleep?”

Evie fidgeted. He realized with a jolt that he understood the frightened, resigned misery on her face. Unsteadily, she said, “Um, I don’t—know if—”

All the things that Astarion wanted to say to her were too treacly and honest to leave his mouth. He tried to imagine what he would have liked to hear the moment before he would have to take a man into his arms. Nothing was coming to him. I don’t want to fuck you would have injured his pride. I don’t need to fuck you would have felt as though sex was expected later, or something worse than sex was waiting. What did she need to hear?

Evie’s eyes softened as she studied his expression. “Oh!” she said, her small, sweet smile arresting him completely. “I thought wrong, didn’t I?”

Astarion couldn’t hold back a relieved grin of his own. “Yes,” he said emphatically. “Please, just—”

She stepped past him into the tent. She made no attempt to rearrange her pile of blankets into anything sensible—just curled up on top of them, awkwardly, and closed her eyes. Astarion stepped in after her, letting the canvas flap swing shut, and lay down on his own bedroll, on his side, eyes on her.

Evie opened her eyes. She asked, “Can you see me?”

“I can,” said Astarion. It felt odd to be in such close proximity to a person without the rotting certainty of sex.

Evie smiled again. Astarion felt sure that if she knew how beautiful her smile was, he would be seriously fucked. Conspiratorially, she said, “Gemma and I used to bunk up in the circus, and I used to get blemishes, and she’s an elf, she’s got perfect skin—”

“We don’t have perfect skin,” said Astarion derisively.

“Well, she had perfect skin,” said Evie. “Can’t speak for you.”

“Fuck you,” said Astarion. Evie laughed. “You can’t even see me right now!”

“Stop interrupting me. She’s got perfect skin, and she said the only reason I didn’t was ‘cause I picked at my face all night. And I said you don’t know that, it’s too dark to see, and she said elves can see no matter how dark it is.”

“So what do humans see?” Astarion asked, curious despite himself.

Evie blinked a few times, very seriously, clearly straining to make him out in the darkness. “Black,” she said with serious decisiveness. He was glad she couldn’t see how he was smiling.

[wizardissues]

"why did learning the truth make me feel worse?" for whichever of the three OCs in your pinned post you think it would be feelsiest for 😈

hard to do this one without spoilers but let’s see if we can manage bc i want to SO BAD!!!

Astarion is pacing around the camp, jaw tight. Evie watches. He seems real and proper fucked up about what she said, which she wasn’t expecting. Hadn’t thought through how he’d take it.

He comes back to her after about five minutes and says, sharply, “I’m not,” a long pause, because he knows who Lion is now and can use the name if he wants, then, with all the spite in the world, “that spineless wretch, you know.”

Evie sort of wants to say back that he doesn’t know Lion like she does, but what Lion did still weighs so heavy round her neck that Astarion can’t sink his teeth in, and maybe that bothers him. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what he’s so angry about. “You’re not,” she agrees, because that’s empirical fact. He’s not Lion. He’s Astarion.

“I’d never,” says Astarion. He can’t finish his sentence. “I would never. To you.”

That part Evie knows. “You had it done to you,” she says evenly. “You know how much it hurts.”

“Not—gods, Evie, I didn’t love a single one of those people!” says Astarion wretchedly. “They didn’t mean anything to me; I didn’t know them; it didn’t matter that they were cruel, because people do that! He was your—he was the only thing you knew, and he kept you, and you still—”

He stops in his sharp-hand gesticulations and stares at her with that wet, red gaze that she loves outrageously. She drinks in his face the way he drinks in her, whether or not he’s paying attention.

“You still look at me,” he says. “With those firefly eyes.”

[wizardissues]

…after a small rejection. Eviestarion ✨💛💜✨

Evie blinks a few times, like a frightened cat. Astarion leans in, like he's leaned in a thousand times, right down to that desperation thrumming within him, only now it's for a different fucking reason. She doesn't know. Months together, and she doesn't know. He's fucking told her, and she doesn't know. Does he have to kiss her, then, to get it through that thick fucking skull of hers? What is he expected to do in a situation like this?

Evie says, unsteadily, "Sweetheart, thank you, but I--I--I'm not for that," and his heart wrenches; he doesn't know what the words are to tell her how wrong she is. He wants to rip something limb from limb, but he knows it can't be her; the world's done that to her too many times already.

"You're too good to me," she says.

"That is not," says Astarion, who has heard that sentence from a thousand different people, none of whom still bear the scar from where he sunk his teeth into her wrist too many times for it to heal properly. "That is not." He cannot even finish the sentence.

Evie smiles. Apologetic. Why the fuck is she apologetic? What are the words that he can spin for her to understand? He's stolen a thousand hearts, and this insufferable little ranger gave hers to him, but she refuses to accept how thoroughly she holds his.

"Is it," his breath catches, "am I--do you not want me?"

Evie flinches back from the question, terrified humiliation in her eyes, and Astarion feels that age-old satisfaction: he's found a hook, somehow. He has to find a way to do something with it. He will take this small victory now, though, because she says passionately, "You know how I feel," and presses an awkward kiss to his cheek to punctuate the sentence.

[wizardissues]

astarion and evie im thinking about you so sleepily. anyway evie creates these really interesting new problems for astarion by swearing loyalty to him like two days after knowing him and clearly committing to this before sex is ever even on the table and he’s just like HEY. WHAT. WHAT THE FUCK. and in devoting himself to semi panicked study of someone who is protecting him in the way he wants but in a way he can’t control, he falls in love with her by accident, because she is 1) all love 2) very informed by a very similar trauma to his own 3) All Love

[wizardissues]

evie/astarion + dream, winter, want

Astarion was frost-cold against Evie's body when he held her. This was important. Everything had to be different, else she wouldn't know where she was, and being held by a warm body in bed meant she was right back where she started, caged in the arms of someone who wanted a thing to hold. His hands were soft, reverent, which wasn't new, but the winter touch of him was, and there was no guilt in his eyes when he smiled at her. Her mouth moved on her own to smile back at him.

He was very careful with her, which was new. They hadn't started like that. Wanting him was like breathing, and she'd expected that once he found that out he'd be all over showing her how much he wanted her too, especially now she knew he did. But he settled only for what was given, which wasn't always much; it was new to be able to touch him like this, and it scared her. He seemed to understand that.

She woke up from a dream one night and tugged on his shoulder until he stirred from his trance. She told him about the dream: she'd been back in the circus and she'd tried to do the trapeze act, only halfway through, she'd gotten all tangled up in the ropes and he'd been down on the ground with a knife. He'd kept on shouting up to her but she'd been too far to hear the words.

Astarion looked like he was thinking very hard about something. Then he said, "I think I was probably trying to figure out how to toss you the knife. Asking you to catch it. It wouldn't do either of us any good if I tried from that far down. You're smart enough to get yourself out of some ropes with a knife, aren't you?"

But the thing he missed, Evie thought, was that he'd been the knife in the first place.