#Additional Tag: Angst

[harry-potter-archive]

Lumos by Treesap

Description: In Progress (60/65 chapters)

Summary: A “stray” obliviate from a dissenting blood purist hits Hermione as she’s debating on the Wizengamot floor for Elf rights. As a result, she loses the last 5 years of her life. Her most recent memory is Fred coming back to life in the Battle of Hogwarts. She doesn’t remember marrying or falling in love with her husband. In fact, when the healer asks her if she’d like to see her husband, she thought Ron would walk through the door. Instead, it was George.

This story follows two, parallel timelines. In the first, Hermione struggles to find her place in a world built by a different version of herself. In the other, George traverses before, during, and after the Wizarding War, finding himself more and more drawn to the most dedicated witch he knows. Too bad she’s in love with his brother.

Published: Archive of Our Own; 2020-Current Last Updated: June 10, 2022

[chrrywvea]

a serotonin boost for today:

✨️imagine married lokius at a christmas market✨️

(or: my brain going haywire at 4 am for these two idiots & leaving me with this half fic half imagine-ramble-story thing)

mobius obsessing over all the little trinket shops

like immediately upon their arrival, he's over the moon

loki detests all the masses of people but nearly melts when he sees how mobius lights up

he does enjoy it later on as well, very much even

sharing mulled wine

butterfly kisses & red cheeks (loki i'm looking at you)

mobius wears the scarf loki made for him for his birthday (personal hc of mine: loki can crochet & knit insanely well)

mistletoes, so many mistletoes

snowflakes in loki's curls make him look even more mesmerising (mobius stop staring please)

mobius gets fairy lights for their apartment

loki shields his tiny husband from all the people bumping into everyone (inspo from the cutest gay couple i saw at the christmas market yesterday thanks guys♡)

they try out all the different food stands together

(since christmas markets tend to have lots of nordic food loki gets to teach mobius about his favourite dishes at home when he was a child)

mobius loves listening to loki anyway, no matter the topic, but hearing him speak so freely of the good aspects of his childhood always warms his heart

they search more quiet spots for breaks when they both get a little overwhelmed

loki sings (though this time only for his husband)

holding hands in each others coat pockets & hand kisses to warm cold skin up

beanies

they try on all the beanies in the whole market (mobius puts them on loki who eventually just surrenders to it)

in the end loki buys them real silly, matching ones (if any artists want to draw this, by all means, go ahead! i'd love that so much but i have zero talent when it comes to drawing)

loki drags mobius to the ice rink, the only thing he's weary of since he's never been ice skating before - but loki is there to help!

he's a pro at it, frosty heritage and stuff

yes i believe frost giants can ice skate really well shush

lots of laughter and banter ensue with mobius attempting to stay upright

the waist hold™ is now reversed to prevent mobius from falling on his butt

but honestly they were gonna be close anyway so

touchy touchy

mobius gets the hang of the whole ice skating ordeal and loki cheers him on when he manages one round around the rink on his own

though he completely rams into loki's back upon his return

when they tire out after a while they get more food, sit around one of the nearby bonfires and cuddle

star gazing when it gets dark & planning for christmas eve

they both sneakily buy gifts for one another when the other's busy with something

mobius gets a little tipsy

too many samples at the liquor shops oops

+ i might add more if anyone likes this but this is what came out for now, enjoy :-D

[dirt-grub]

Amv. Choose

[sco07ut]

furry au thomas thorne accidentally shoots a human out of the sky in his duel pass it on

[industria-adastra]

Ideal Heaven (Let's become one in mind, body and soul)

Summary: To her, to love, and to act upon that love, was a very simple thing. Because there were exquisitely ugly beings in this world. Because she always knew best. And because she loved anyone and everyone, and because she knew anything and everything…

Kriemhild Gretchen’s love was overpowering, because she only wanted what was best for those whom she loved.

And Kriemhild Gretchen loved humanity.

-

L-O-V-E L-O-V-E

(Listen to me)

Note: I am held in a chokehold by Vampire Knight rn (It literally rearranged my brain chemistry as a kid) but it doesn't mean I can't write for other fandoms. Like PMMM. And for MadoHomu (kinda) Listen to DOKUZU by Nakiso for a better feel?

------

Today, like every other day, was quiet. Below, the people rushed to get to their destinations, eager for another day of heaven. As always, their hair was perfectly styled, and perfectly coiffed. Their buttons shone and their eyes were glassy. 

The sun shone brilliantly, the sky was a perfect blue, and the flowers were blooming—just like every other day. Nothing was out of place: the floor was as polished as a mirror, and the air was as clean as could be. Together, they breathed as one in unison; the air cycling through to be used again and again. 

No one was sad, no one was angry. There was no suffering to be found in the empty expressions of her most cherished denizens. Mercy had been given freely, and the consequences had been clear to see.

The birds above in perfectly formed, perfectly trimmed trees sang in pitch-perfect harmony, and Kriemhild Gretchen was happy. 

So, so, very happy.

It was a joy only amplified by the peace of the people. 

She could feel the happiness of the people—a stagnant emotion like tar. It enveloped every one of them, coursing through their veins and pumping within their hearts. Subsuming them all to elevate their happiness to new heights. Their happiness fed hers, and so out of kindness she fed it right back to them, over, and over again—a negative feedback loop that would never end. 

There was no sorrow, no malcontent, and certainly no monsters here. She’d cast the light down, swallowed the darkness and gave priceless salvation. Ugly things did not exist within Kriemhild Gretchen’s world, for neither was there a place for them, nor were they ugly anymore after her mercy. Only beautiful things existed within Kriemhild Gretchen’s world, shining gloriously as a testament to all the good she wrought with her mercy. Because from beauty came rapture, and from rapture came euphoria. 

Euphoria meant happiness. Euphoria meant that nothing, nothing would ever colour her pristine world with dreadful, filthy despair again.

Their hearts beat together as one, steady, steady—light and free—and Kriemhild Gretchen knew that all was well.

(But down, down, down, deep below the surface, she could hear that irregular rhythm, all out of sync. And yet—

The world was perfect, perfect, perfect. Trees swayed gently, the vibrant colours dulling further and further as Kriemhild Gretchen dove deeper and deeper within her perfect world.

And yet still, opening the doors, travelling down the path within her steel-cage heart, she found a single blemish. 

Not on her, of course. Kriemhild Gretchen was the perfect being who loved all. Her love brought salvation, but salvation had to be wanted. And yet, she supposed she could not blame this blemish within her. For it was that spot of corruption that taught her of the idea of “love”. Love, which was encompassing and all-powerful. Love, which she could take, take, and take.

A love that centred only on two.

For some odd, odd reason, warring with a part of her that screamed to purify that corruption, Kriemhild liked that spot within her. Somehow, she preferred her that way, imperfect and so lovely on her own—her little crow in a sea of doves. 

That Girl was so strange. Some days, she wept. Some days, she screamed. Some days, she was almost just content—just enough to sink into Kriemhild’s loving embrace, staining her lovely, lovely skin before yanking herself out. A pretty little bird with contradictory feelings and actions.

Unbinding the chains, Kriemhild Gretchen gently pushed open the doors. Of course, not before ensuring her mask was picture-perfect. In earlier times, in her haste, Kriemhild often came in with the wrong shade of pink, or an unfortunate melted mess of some poofy pink dress amalgamated with neutral beige, or even with hair all too long and ribbons all too mismatched. She even practised her expressions too, moulding her “face” to suit those flashes of images of that other girl. 

That being said, all those failures still wrought better behaviour than when she came in as herself.

Passing through those doors as if gliding on air, the Witch of Salvation beheld her one and only sinner. There she lay, sleeping on a bed of soft silk and flesh, eyes closed and her hands clasped over her chest. Kriemhild thought a delicate little crown might suit those elegant features, to complete this image—her own little sleeping beauty.

Slowly, slowly, Kriemhild crept closer; hands outstretched from the walls, closer, closer. She admired the black dress contrasting the pallor of her skin, head tilted as she stared. Yes, the Witch thought. Black truly did suit her slumbering doll.

Closer, closer, closer. Her hand moved to brush lightly against that girl’s cheek. Carefully, Kriemhild willed herself to simply grow out of the bed instead, painting legs on either side of the girl. Hands moved to open the crossed palms on her chest as the girl sunk deeper and deeper into slumber. Kriemhild went down, down, down, pressing her ear against that irregularly beating heart.

Thump, thump, thump. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

A wonderful, sublime sound.

Fingers reached to trace a line from her jaw to her heart, talon-like nails skimming over the unprotected flesh of her neck—lamentably marred by a singular, savage bite. One hand slid between raven black strands of hair, tensed, waiting.

And then Kriemhild yanked. 

The girl’s eyes snapped open in pain, shiny, dulling amethyst meeting with Kriemhild’s own brightly pink ones. At that, she grinned, ecstatic to see her most beloved sinner singularly focused on her. (What a terrible harbinger of salvation she was, having favourites. But then again, did prophets and apostles not exist?) 

“Helloo~ Good morning!” Kriemhild’s hands moved to roughly cup the girl’s face, nails pressing on delicate skin. Her torso moved forward until their noses were only centimetres away from touching, still keeping that manic grin on her “face”.

“M— Mado…ka?” Her poor darling slurred, still ever so out of it. But it was oh so adorable, and all Kriemhild wanted to do was eat her, swallow her down, and meld the two of them until she stopped calling her by the wrong name.

But Kriemhild Gretchen was salvation and mercy personified, so instead, she giggled—a soft, tinkling sound that would reverberate within your ears. Over and over again. She wasn’t angry. No, no. Her little birdie just needed a little…reminder.

In low sotto voce, she responded, “Silly… You know that’s not my name, don’t you?”

And then, a kiss, for the pretty princess. Soft but intent, leaving no other option than for the spell to be broken. Kriemhild’s hands fisted black hair, entangling it within her fingers. The scent of roses filled the air. Then she drew back, watching the fog recede from those purple eyes. 

“What’s my name?” Kriemhild calmly asked, seeing sparks flickering once more. The girl didn’t answer. The walls pulsed, contracting flesh and bone. Once, twice.

Thrice.

“Come on, I’m quite sure you know it by now, don’t you? I believe you’re smart enough to remember something as simple as that, right? Come now, say my name.” Kriemhild’s voice was poisonously sweet, a sign of her waning patience. Even a being as magnanimous as her was bound to have a limit to patience. Especially when it came to her name. 

Eyes more red than pink bore down at the figure beneath her. She could hear that irregular heart, fluttering its wings like a hummingbird.

“My name, Dear.”

The girl’s eyes darted around, searching for something Kriemhild couldn’t see. Didn’t she know there was nothing here but Kriemhild and her? Nothing else but the two of them (forever, forever, forever). A small, pink tongue quickly swiped at chapped lips, before a light, airy voice came out. “Kriem—” She paused, taking a small glance at Kriemhild’s current, waiting expression. “Kriemhild Gretchen.”

As always these days, her words came slow, not quite the sharp blades they once were. It was indeed a testament to Kriemhild Gretchen’s own mercy and patience, to wait as long as she could. But the reward at the end was always worth it.

“Good girl!” Kriemhild was as quick as always to hand out praise, arms wrapping tight around a thin torso before she squeezed with suppressed euphoria. Little laughs trickled out from her mouth, muffled only by the fact that her face was pressed against the girl’s chest—deforming as it was right now. Minutes passed by before Kriemhild deemed herself safe from melting before her raven’s eyes.

Once again, her hands moved to cup her little birdie’s face before she spoke. “You’ve been becoming more and more of a good girl these days, you know? Before, it would always take such a long time for you to remember that I’m. Not. Madoka.” White noise hung in the air, buzzing with an intensity that only grew and grew.

Her name was Kriemhild Gretchen.

The girl only ever called her “Madoka” when unprompted.

Yes, Kriemhild Gretchen was mercy personified. Yes, she was the most perfect, pure being in this corrupted (now violently cleansed) world. Yes, she only ever did her best to turn this world into paradise. But Kriemhild Gretchen did not share.

These people, this girl most of all, were all hers, hers, hers.

(Because she loved her, and her little birdie loved her too but only through a mask, no matter how inelegant and diminutive it was. Kriemhild Gretchen loved with a ferocity that belied an all-consuming desire for her beautiful raven to love her madly, truly—to allow Kriemhild one day fully swallow her whole, subsuming her so she would never, ever leave. Never, ever cry once more. Kriemhild Gretchen loved this pitiful sinner of hers and no one would take her from Kriemhild.)

It took her much less time to notice the blood leaking from the girl’s nose, eyes, ears, and mouth. This time, she didn’t even have to be told by the drip drip drip of crimson life. Kriemhild shifted in the girl’s lap, noting the subtle wince at the changing weight. She must’ve twisted and broken her legs again.

Gently, Kriemhild wiped away the blood nearing those soft lips, smearing it on her knuckles and her raven’s fine-boned cheek.

What a pretty picture.

She kissed her again.

“You know you’re mine for all eternity, right?”

Her caged bird did not respond.

----

Once, she held in her heart an ice-cold body, perfectly preserved in all its beauty. Mangled yet healing, Kriemhild’s hands held that small heart of her bird’s near her own makeshift body, wondering if she should simply eat it bit by bit or swallow it whole.

For some reason, she’d returned that glowing heart of purple glass back to its original body instead. Staring at the girl who should’ve only been another sinner to her, Kriemhild had not yet understood why she kept her—nor the three other bodies she’d consumed—inside her heart.

Yes, they’d come a long way from that moment.

And yet, and yet… It really wasn’t enough. Kriemhild could feel it in her very soul.

----

That girl… No, “Homura”, was still not content within this world, within her. 

How much longer until they would be one? How much longer would she come in, always hearing Madoka, Madoka, Madoka first? How much longer did she have to put up with that mask?

As she pondered those questions, Kriemhild Gretchen swallowed Homura deeper in, creating more doors, creating more thorny vines to keep her most beloved sinner. Perhaps Kriemhild Gretchen’s heaven was imperfect (and oh, how it stung to know so) for Homura. Perhaps Homura only needed to understand her more, by delving deeper into her world. 

Perhaps, one day, she would no longer be called “Madoka” first.

And perhaps one day, her heart would not feel so empty.

(Three bodies in, and yet still Kriemhild wanted, wanted, wanted)

[laurasimonsdaughter]

absolute favourite comment on the necromance post, you get it @georgiedoesntfloat, you get it

[unknownmusing]

Adoribull Fanfic: 'When a Thread of Fate Brings Two People Together'

-------------------------------

Plot Summary:

A story of how a Mage and Qunari who are both of different races slowly over time as they spent having adventures together begin to develop something more between them.

----------------------------------

Prologue - 'The Beginning of a Thread of Fate Weaving between Two Different Races to Join Them Together' (Part 1 of ?)

Location - Un-named river some distance from Redcliffe Village - Hinterlands, Ferelden - Late Evening

In an area surrounded by meadow grass and wildflowers, while a river winds it way through mountainous region a few feet away, Dorian Pavus flicks through the tome he picked up on his travels using the light from the crackling camp-fire to illuminate the pages so he can read them - some of the writing is faded over time with other parts missing paragraphs but the diagrams helped understand the spells being mentioned.

So absorbed in his reading of the tome he doesn't hear his second companion travelling with him approaching the camp, until a thud of something heavy lands close-by making him lift his head to see some kind of wild boar lays there - though looking more mutated and hybrid-looking - then flicks his gaze up to his large companion who's reached for a large carving knife to sharpen it with a whetstone.

"Don't worry, I know which cuts to get that won't make us ill." Iron Bull - a Beast of the the Qunari - states to Dorian who's wondering if should decline in eating but his stomach betrays him by choosing to grumble indicating he's hungry.

This makes the large Qunari chuckle at him, standing up to pick up the wild boar's body to take it over to the branch of tree to begin skinning it - removing the fur; other parts which are inedible and finally cutting it so effeciently and effortlessly that Dorian forgets for a moment Iron Bull has murdered various people in similar ways as he watches the sight of the minotaur working away.

The slope of the large muscles shifting, every soft way the hands slide over the dead boar's body testing to see which way to cut and turning it to check the other side of it that gulping slightly, Dorian shuts the tome to place in his travelling pack and getting up heads down to river needing some space.

His mind begins to flood with so many images, he quickly places a clenched fist in his mouth to silence any sounds - this was frankly embarassing, he's acting like a young randy male seeing a female they like but don't want to admit - when he reaches the beach-area nearby the river curve so that Iron Bull can't pick them up, his other resting over his abdomen close to his groin.

"Control yourself, Dorian…..Control yourself…..you hate his Race…..remember….." He mutters under his breath, only for sudden image of him and the beast embraced in such a way his clenched fist moves away from his mouth to grip his shoulder and other cup himself between his thighs arching slightly when unexpected heat floods through him at it.

He moans breathlessly to his shame, horror and embarassment knowing that the Qunari would pick it up with their acute hearing only to sink down onto the sandy ground lying back to begin to rub himself through his breeches, thighs quivering intensely and mind flooding with so many images, whispers and sensation of being embraced he can't help but let out mewling breathless gasps, pants and whimpers.

What is happening to him?

Why was heat flooding throughout his system like his body had realised he was compatible with the Qunari when records stated it wasn't possible for a Beast of the Qunari to be compatible with a Human and other species and only their own.

Was it because of when they met that fateful rainfall night the touch from the Qunari had left an imprint and somehow they both become compatible?

--------------------------------------

 PART 1 - 'How the Thread First Formed Between Two'

Location - Tevinter Imperium - Nothern Thedas, Minrathous - Approaching Late Evening 

2 Years Earlier

Rain is falling down heavily on the streets of Tevintar Imperium in Northern Thedas, Minrathous, drowning out the sounds of scuffle going on between four people – the fourth trying to make dash for it, an alleyway between two large buildings briefly becoming illuminated by an eerie light which fades away when they are knocked over before can get out of the alleyway where curses in native Tevene begin to fill it.

“Maybe we should gag him for good measure. This….fucking mage as a mouth on him doesn’t he.”

“Just remember his….the Magister Pavus I mean wants him alive.”

“Heh, yeah good coin being paid for escorting this….”

Dorian Pavus – son of Halward Pavus and Aquinea Thalrassian – finds him struggling in vain to get away from the larger of the Hired Thugs pinning him down onto the alleyway ground mostly grinding to his vain his face into it, discussing with the other two thugs debating on what do with him.

It is a handful of days since he run away from his home and for good intentions and reasons, he never wanted to set foot there again. Surrounded by something which had started to become the equivalent of a gilded cage which he begins to wonder would ever be able to get out of.

“Heh, seems our Mage here is being a little too quiet.” One of the Hired Thugs notes, squatting down in front of him to reach out to grab hold of the back of his head by his hair wrenching it upwards to force him to look at harsh, unforgiving cold eyes. “What you thinking about? Way to escape?”

Glaring back, Dorian refuses to answer resulting a hand immediately slapping him across the face so hard it leaves his ears ringing and splitting his lower lip in the process allowing blood to trickle down the side of his lip and chin closely followed by a hand grabbing hold of his chin to dig their nails harshly into his cheeks when they say their next words.

“You know I always hated Vint’s like this, Pompous, arrogant and vain. Only thinking about themselves.”

Brought up onto his feet, Dorian wonders if can summon a quick spell – one that will get rid of the Hired Thugs - when a gruff, deep voice interrupts it sends prickles up and down him in a such a way it felt like when one meets their Soulmate for the first time and their coloured Soul Threads connect.

“And does that count for yourself as well."

A very large, tall figure stands there at the entrance to the alleyway wearing a faded hooded cloak looking straight at the Hired Thugs surrounding him.

"So......Did you miss me?" Is the first words from the large hooded figure - who after the brief glimpse Dorian had seen of their face when they were fighting is a Qunari who looks oddly familiar and bringing back a memory of night at a Masked Party, an embrace in large arms and so much unexpected overstimulation it was feat he managed to get up to leave in the morning - as he leans against the alley brick-wall with his arms crossed over his chest and staff back in its holder on his back.

Sighing heavily with one hand up coming to pinch the bridge of his nose he wonders how he answer the Qunari - the hulk of a beast who he had a one night stand with, before escaping from the guest bedchamber lest fear of scandal of being discovered bedding a Qunari - whose name he doesn't know, who is busy going through the Hired Thugs until finds one still alive.

"I...Don't have a clue what you mean by 'Did I miss you?' because 1. I don't know who you are and 2. What are you doing?" Dorian replies, watching the Qunari turn their hooded gaze to him before gets up, just after bounding their prisoner in tight ropes so the singled-out Hired Thug cannot escape, walking up to where he stands.

A hand slams beside his head onto the alley brickwall allowing for the hooded cloak to slip off slightly revealing one ash-grey hand covered in snaking ink-black tattoos at the sametime the Qunari presses closer to him it forces him to turn his face to one side to not look at them.

"You have to understand....you felt the sensation didn't you?" The Qunari asks him, referring of course to the feel of a Soul-Thread connecting him to their's making Dorian, blush so heavily it's no doubt showing on his face even in the dim moonlight alongside the promixity of them against his body.

"Vishante kaffas!! I have no idea what your talking about!!!? Now if you'll excuse me....I like to get on....mmfffff!!!?" Dorian begins to say, only for lips to smash into his before he can even protest or cast a spell sending a throbbing wave of something through the forming Soul Thread making him slump against their large body, feeling one hand slide around to embrace him and the other come up to cradle the back of his head.

His fingers twitch heavily, hands spasming before manages to wrench free stumbling down the alleyway to compose himself.

Dorian brings up to his slightly swollen lips a shaking hand - the Qunari had just kissed him!!!? Without even a warning, just did it to him.

Angry at the forcefulness of it he forms a lightening ball in one hand, turning fully around to face the Qunari standing there watching him to send it hurtling towards them choosing not to hang around to check if worked or not. 

His mind beginning to flood with a memory of a masked party, the mysterious large Qunari and everything else that had happened that fateful night as he keeps on running and running through the weaving alleyways and down empty streets passing by houses, shops and market stalls until out of one of the many large city gate's into the wildness of a land unknown to him. 

---------------------------

Notes:

This chapter deals with introducing the characters called Verikas - an elf who doesn't want to be an Inquisitor - and his friend Ku'rac who is a Qunari who in next chapter will soon meet Dorian and Iron Bull

----------------------------

Part 2 – The Beginning (1 of ?)

Location - The Fade also known as The Beyond - Location of Realm Unknown 

It is an quiet, eerie stillness of without sound which makes Verikas flutter his eyes open, faintly seeing the blurred large figure of his close friend Ku’rac – a Qunari who had become exiled from his people due to disagreements with them – lying close-by then his vision fully clears to reveal he is in the Fade.

Around wispy emerald mist raises in different areas, structures of crumbled elvish ruins float in the air way above - some facing upside down and others dissembling - then hears a pained groan coming from Ku'rac making him get up, stumbling slightly forwards swaying due to experiencing the Fade for the first time trying to remember what happened but all he is getting is fractured memories of group of people talking; a cloaked hooded figure wearing a mask with liliac vines on it and then a explosion of raw, untimed magical energy originating from somewhere.

"Ku'rac....Ku'rac...." Verikas reaching his friend calls out, trying to rouse the Qunari who gives pained groan with both his hands twitching - unclenching and clenching - until flutters his eyes open, gaze soon focusing on him with Ku'rac allowing him to help him to sit up

"Verikas, what.....the Maker just happened?!! Last thing I remember was watching you from the balcony about to state you don't want to be an Inquisitor then nothing afterwards!!" Ku'rac asks him so many questions he cannot give his friend any of the answers to, because even himself doesn't know them.

"I....have faint memory but will have to discuss it later. We need to get out of here." Verikas replies, his keen hearing picking up that they are not alone with him helping Ku'rac to stand up, followed by noticing a bright light in the distance.

Both agree that they should head towards it to investigate what it could be, quickly making their way across crumbling platforms; clambering up floating islands above them and coping with walking upside down or even sideways until finally reach a flight of stone-carved steps.

"Verika, spiders!!!?" Ku'rac calls out to him, pointing to mass of them skittering across over to where they are located he begins to run up the stairs only to trip over a step when a sudden and unexpected sharp, lightening-like pain radiates from his hand through every nerve ending he finds himself giving out a bloodcurdling scream.

His legs give out on him with Ku'rac sweeping in to grab hold to cradle in his large arms, running up the stone-carved steps where the light of the figure waiting seems to enamate outwards that Verikas doesn't remember what happens next.

Just the words 'You'll will live. The both of you' closely followed by blackness.

-----------------------

[essektheylyss]

in the shadow of the serpent

Rating: T

Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast

Characters: Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Spoilers for ReuNeinted, this is like. ALMOST fluff. everybody be proud of me., also still on my 'caleb how do you not have sending yet' agenda, Dragons, helping your SO maintain their brand can be a love language, Magical Effects

Summary:

In the wake of the Nein's reunion, during one of Essek's longer absences, Caleb considers his future plans, and Essek returns with an offering.

[rotisseries]

the amount of people on that post who straight up don't fucking get what I mean when I say "conflict free fluff" is an actual nightmare

[sawyerconfort]

hey I wanted to ask for a Duke angsty fluff with the prompt “your not alone, you never were” as in like the reader and Duke are friends and they find out about Dukes bulimia and try to comfort her and then Duke confesses her feeling for the reader and it ends with fluff

Hey!

It's been a long time since I've been here to write, and I'll definitely do it more often next year. It's just that, my life is completely crazy, I have too many commitments and every time I come back here, I always have a new idea for a fanfic on Wattpad instead hahahaha

Anyway, but that's not the point now. I know I've been promising you this for a while, so here it is. Anon, sorry for the delay, I really wanted to get this to you sooner, and if you didn't give up waiting, I hope you like it!

Enjoy!

No, requests are not open, at least until next year!

-------------------------

Not Strong Enough | Heather Duke x Reader

PROMPT: I don't know what to tell you, just that you were in the wrong place at the wrong time with your best friend who always swore she wouldn't hide anything from you.

WARNINGS: Mentions of bulimia, eating disorder, mental health, distorted image, anxiety.

***

"Hi, how are you? Like, class has started, how long does it take you to touch up your makeup?"

You ask. You're standing outside the women's bathroom, trying to get the attention of your best friend, Heather, who is on the other side of the door. It was a long conversation until you got the teacher's permission to leave the class, because the students had just returned from break, and it was like a school rule that you couldn't leave after break, or something like that.

Heather Duke said that she was going to walk you to class, but she needed to touch up her makeup first, and, even though you didn't know exactly how long it would take to do that, you found it strange that she was taking so long.

It wasn't news to anyone that Heather practically lived in the bathroom. The other two Heathers knew why she did this almost all the time, but you, her best friend, apparently didn't even know the half of it, and she refused to tell you, who knows why.

Determined to put an end to this torture, you invented an absurd excuse for the teacher and left the room, going to the bathroom door, where you were now, just being careful that Ms. Fleming didn't catch you and give you detention while you 'spy'.

"I'm almost done, it's just…", you heard her say on the other side, and then, the sentence remained there, incomplete, hanging in an eternal echo on the bathroom door. Heather was never silent, you were fully aware of that, and so, even if it was inconvenient, you did the first thing that came into her head.

Thankful that there were no other girls in the bathroom, for countless reasons, you opened the door abruptly, without even blinking.

The scene was a bit embarrassing and scary at first. You heard someone expel, and then you came across Heather Duke in one of the stalls, bent over the toilet, with the stall door half open because of the wind when you opened the bathroom door.

Running as if this was the last thing you were going to do in your life - and it would probably be because she was going to kill you when she found out that you had practically broken down the door -, you knelt behind her and held her long hair up.

But it was too late. Her perfect green uniform had a few drops of vomit on it, and the smell was even worse.

“Hey, hey, easy, easy…” you murmured, and felt Heather Duke gasp in her arms, scared. "It's okay, it's just me. It's okay, relax."

She took a deep breath and finally raised her head. You made her hair into a loose bun and flushed the toilet, restraining yourself from throwing up too. Then he closed the lid and took it out of the cabin, to the taps. Heather looked in the mirror and sighed, lowering her head shortly after.

"Is everything okay? If you want to throw up again, I'll hold you back," you whispered, worrying. She looked at you for a minute and shook her head. "Okay, then this is better. Now… I know it's a little inconvenient to ask, but why did you lie to me?"

"And I didn't lie, I withheld, they are two different things."

You rolled your eyes, and Heather sighed. Suddenly the idea became a little funny, and you commented, to lighten the mood. "Look, I know the cafeteria food isn't appetizing, okay? You don't need to feel guilty about telling me this, I won't tell anyone."

But his joke didn't have the expected effect on Heather Duke. She looked at you, frowned, then raised her eyebrow.

"Isn't that what you were talking about…?", she whispered, but you heard her, and it was her turn to frown.

"About what?"

"Nothing," Heather said, shaking her head and looking in the mirror again. "You know I didn't eat anything for lunch, don't you?"

You looked at her, frowned again. "You didn't? Why? Did something happen? Or because the mashed potatoes…"

"No, it's not the mashed potatoes, (Y\N), stop talking about food."

"Heather, what's your problem? Tell me, I want to help you, please. You're hiding something from me and I'm your best friend, that's not fair at all, please tell me!"

You didn't expect to express that feeling of anger and fear with so much anxiety and so much euphoria. But you did. And she opened her eyes wide in surprise, swallowing hard. Looking at the ground, you witnessed for the first time the moment Heather Duke let her guard down.

"I withheld something from you because…", she began, and cleared her throat, before turning to you, hands resting on the sink. "…no, you'll hate me forever, and I know I won't be able to handle it."

“Heather, don’t…” you whispered, approaching her slowly. "Tell me, please, I want to help you. I'm not here to hate you, I promise."

She sighed again and lowered her head. "I… I have bulimia, (Y\N)…"

"You what?", yes, that was your first reaction, and of course you couldn't hold back that reaction, such was the shock of receiving this news. "Wait, since when?"

"Since the beginning of the year", she confessed, still very quietly. "I think it started, actually, when I joined the Heathers, and I had to come to high school with this mentality of being popular. I… I didn't like my body and I thought people wouldn't think I was popular and brilliant. If I were…you know, fat."

You swallowed again.

"I didn't know that stopping eating would lead me to this kind of thing, it's just… looking in the mirror was torture, and it got even worse after I started. I wanted to eat something, and every time I saw In my reflection I saw my body distorting, enlarging, and that wouldn't make me a popular girl, so I just… stopped eating because at least that wouldn't make my image distort and people would like me."

"And why did you hide this from me? I would have done anything to help you, anything at all…"

'Because you didn't care about that kind of thing, (Y\N). You saw me and see me as the perfect girl, I know that, and I didn't want… I didn't want to be responsible for getting that image of me out of your head…", she laughed. "Or because I was maybe trying make me look tough, you know? It also helped with me being popular…"

You smiled, but Heather seemed to have something to say, something else, so you waited, patiently.

"And also because… I… I didn't want you to see me as a failure because… because I couldn't stand it," she sighed. "Look, I'm sorry for keeping this from you. I didn't mean for you to be hurt, I was just trying to protect you because… because I love you."

Heather's speech took you by surprise, and you widened your eyes, increasingly confused. She stopped for two minutes and continued babbling, saying that she knew you would figure all this out eventually, and that she felt terrible for liking you as more than a friend, and that you would say she was confusing things, and that you would definitely want to get away from her now that you knew the truth.

And you didn't do any of that. You only stopped her from continuing to speak, pressing your lips to hers and holding her face with both hands. There wasn't a moment where you said you loved her back before the kiss, but it was enough like that. Because there was nothing more like you than surprising a girl with your unexpected, impulse-filled actions.

Heather pulled away from the kiss after a few minutes, frowning in her direction. "Aren't you mad at me because I just confessed to you?"

“Definitely not,” you whispered. "I love you too, silly. And I want you to know that I won't leave you alone. And that you will have me by your side to keep you on track with your looks and your body," you touched her face again. "I love you like this, the way you are, and I don't care if you're fat, ugly, full of pimples or with thin legs like someone who doesn't exercise during the week, regardless of all that, Heather… "

She smiled, as you leaned closer again.

"I love you. I've always loved you and I'll never stop loving you, whatever that may be, in whatever sense…"

"Go out with me?", she whispered, now acting on impulse. "Please?"

Your eyes widened. "What the fuck was that?"

She shrugged.

"I'm just trying. You don't have to accept it if you don't want to."

“I’ll take it, yes, Heather,” you said, and then touched her cheek. "But only if you agree to eat with me. Even if it's measly junk food."

[hermitagereheadcanons]

I feel like my tagging system is kind of lacking in terms of type of content, but I have a lot of trouble sorting things into subjective categories. Even just a vent or play regression tag feels difficult to decide, because a lot of my posts don’t have a distinct “this character regresses for fun” or “this character regresses to cope” theme.

I want it to be easier for people to both find and avoid specific types of headcanons but I’m not sure how to go about it. If anyone has tips, I’d love to hear them.

[inspiredrawaw]

hugs 16!! 👉👈

Touch ask list

I uh.. made this angsty ._.

But what’s OCs without a bit of traumatic backstory

Hugs 16. Not wanting to let go hug

This happens during a fire accident at one of Myrvins shows. Fortunately Jackie’s fire magic makes him more resistant to getting burned then others. Allowing Jackie to get the both of them out without any further injuries. But this injury changed Myrvins vision and he wasn’t able to perform his magic shows for more than a year

[autumn-solitude]

So the long wip I’ve been working on outlining for months ended up being the one posted. I’m currently more interested in it atm. I love writing whump, angst and pain before the character gets anything resembling something nice.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51786808/chapters/130925998

[hexiquin]

HOW DID I GASLIGHT/GATEKEEP/GIRLBOSS MYSELF INTO SHIPPING ABE NO SEIMEI X DOUMAN?!!??!?!

[innermuse24]

Deadpool Movie Fanstory:

'The Consquences of Messing with Cable's Time-Traveling Device and What it Brings with It'

-------------------------------------------

Notes:

Cable - Nathan Summers/Deadpool - Wade Wilson

Based on the end part of Deadpool where he pinches/steals Cable's time-traveling device.

-------------------------------------------------

PROLOGUE - When Deadpool Realises his Consquences Sort Of

Deadpool/Wade Wilson's P.O.V:

"WADEEEEEE!!!!?"

I'm in deep shit.

Literally deep shit at the moment having no time to react as Colussus - big, metal hunk of strength - grabs hold of me by the swords to pull me backwards to very pissed off Cable standing in the foyer of the X-Mansion hands on his hips glaring at me with both his normal eye and the golden one then flings me down at the older man's feet.

"Oh, hey…Cable. Miss me?" I ask him, rolling to lay on the floor in seductive pose with arm resting on my thigh for some reason making him glare at me - golden eye flashing heavily - and give a sheepish grin even though he can't see it because I'm wearing the red mask.

"Do you have any idea of what the fucking hell you have just done!!!!? You've just made sure you don't exist."

Oh, shit!!!!? I really should of listened to my inner reason voice. Oh, wait….I don't have one. Dumbass.

WAIT!!!? WHAT HAVE I DONE!!!!?

-----------------------------------------

PART 1 - Cable Confused about his Feelings and Deadpool just Winging it as they Go Along the Way to Fix One's Timeline

Deadpool/Wade Wilson's P.O.V:

Megasonic-Teenager-Warhead or whatever her name was seems to want to kill me slowly and painfully and she may have to get into line because of Cable as I find myself staring at my de-aged self without looking like what be considered by a friend "When a pineapple had sex with Avocodo." and more like when I met Wolverine after he called "That you, Wade. I see Stryker managed to shut you up." making me remember that soon the all of me would disappear if we didn't hurry to sort it out.

This would be so embarrassing. It would mean I would have to make sure my parents met, fucked and soon had me appearing in their already hectic lives then meeting Vanessa, falling in love and killing what-his-face again then saving Russel from being killed by Cable from the future, which Cable - The one standing at the doorway right now. Yeah, I know Stalkerish don't you think or does he like my ass in red? - says I will have to face himself alone and that may just help my timeline realign itself.

"Are you just going to stare at yourself in that mirror like…the Diva you are or ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING HURRY YOUR ASS OVER!!!" Cable shouting the rest of the words, meaning he is still pissed as hell at me for messing with his Time-travelling device.

"Okay, calm yourself, Honey. I'm just coming, let me apply my makeup; lace thongs and corset then high-heels and we're ready to go." I reply, seeing cough heavily to hide…Was that a blush on Cable's face?..and placing the mask back down skip up to him for some no-apparent reason but because I feel like it.

"Shut up. Just let's go." He say, trying not to look me in the eye and leaning close to him go to peck him on the cheek when he places his hand on my face stopping me making me give a muffled protest at it.

----------------------------------------

Afterwards with Dopinder - my dear cinnamon murder muffin - driving us in what was now affectionally called the Deadpool-Mobile, I look back at Cable looking out of the back passenger window with his large, muscular arms crossed over his chest.

Deciding he needs some company, I unbuckle my seat-belt to clamber into the back wriggling slightly in my process to squeeze through the gap between

Settling down, I smooth any crinkles in my suit and moving myself lay my head down on his lap making him tense slightly then flick his gaze down to me, clenching his fist slightly only to sigh heavily and un-clench it.

“I don’t why I even bother.” He says, surprising me at his choice of words that sit up to twist myself around to face him seeing how he's blatantly refusing to look at me. "You....just decided to take it and think what 'It be good idea to change the past, let's go' and not realise....fuck it....why do I put up with you."

"Uhh, Cable.....maybe it's because you enjoy my company." I tell him jokely, only to see he's blushing that sitting myself up, lean closer to check I'm actually seeing his face turning a wonderful shade of red.

The punch in the face is expected that comes straight after I lean into his personal space feels like 'Worth it' hearing Dopinder signing softly in the driver's seat at the antics going on in the back of the taxi.

-------------------------

[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - Prologue 1 to 3 (Act 1) (Spawn Astarion and Ascended Astarion Route)

----------------------

Note:

Spawn Astarion and Ascended Route will start with same prologue then it will be separate chapters as rest of fic progresses to represent both routes

-------------------

Notes:

A Baldur's Gate: Halsin x Astarion fic inspired by the game Baldur Gate 3 and watching ongoing playthrough of it on Youtube

Slight canon diverge with some made up Background stuff for Astarion and other characters

WIP mode as use the wiki fandom and playthroughs to get idea of characters

Title refers to how Astarion and Halsin join up with the rest of the *company ( *will be introduced in later on chapters) but also travel a path together which leads to something more.

Starts off with Astarion's P.O.V

-------------------------

Prologue - 'A Pale Elf in a Grove' (1 of 3)

------------------------------------------------

Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun - Approaching Early Morning

Astarion's P.O.V:

"Is Halsin a fool?!!! Why has he brought this 'thing' here!!!?"

"I do not know….it greatly concerns….Archdruid Halsin!!!… We…..yes…..we understand…."

Voices.

Whispering amongst themselves before going silent, footsteps fading into the distance of somewhere which smells moist, lush and fresh - like it's not been tainted by any pollutants - and movement of something large, warm and furry choosing to lay down beside me.

Why couldn't I remember what had happened? What even had happened? Had I been attacked by someone or something?

Those questions remain swirling around my aching head - like I been hit by something very heavy and large - that it is difficult to even force myself to wake up so can check my surroudings, only sink into deeper sleep like I'm being made to do it to help me heal. So different when my Master Cazador treated me - his more of punishment so cruel, unkind and harsh it border on machositic that he didn't really care how many times he hurt me.

I must have whimpered because a soft chuffing noise comes from the large, warm furry thing beside me with wet snout nudging me to force me to roll onto my side to face into a warm furry belly and chest of what scenting register is in fact bear at least I think it is. I want to wake, I need to wake.

But the drowiness is settling in so fast, a soothing calming wave washing over me that find myself relaxing for the first time in centuries, allowing myself to fall asleep against the warmth of the large bear beside me.

TIME SKIP

"Hnngh…..Gaahhh!!!?" It is the sensation of sunlight from above burning it's way up my exposed arm which forces me very rudely awake from the deep, healing slumber I had been placed under trying to get up when realise a large, muscular arm - human?…. No….scenting the air…..again….a Wood Elf - is over my waist effectively trapping me against a very muscular, large and naked Wood elf bearing a tattoo mark on one side of his face and horredenous, but oddly enough appealing scars from no doubt from being attacked on his face as well.

Concerned about promixity of our bodies, I shuffle my lower half backwards away from the Wood elf's groin area only to give out a yelp when the large hand which has been around my waist immediatly yanks me flush against the large, muscular chest forcing me to place both my hands on it - or more accurately on top of the Wood Elf's pecs on both their dusky hued nipples to my embarassment even though this unnamed Wood elf does look like a fine specimen.

The sudden hiss of sunlight touching my exposed skin causes me to thrash soon in their grip, managing to wriggle free to quickly roll over to the shadows.

Collapsing slump up against a base for a statue of a wolf carved from stone, I wince at the stinging ache from the sun-burn on my arm hoping my healing factor kicks in, only to notice the wood elf has woken up looking straight at me.

"It's alright, I won't harm you." the wood elf says, voice so deep, husky and soothing it sends a strange shiver through me at the sametime that luring scent of his sweet, smelling blood reaches me.

It is so tempting, I don't realise I prowled out of the shadows into a shaft of sunlight until I'm scrambling back into them cursing myself with my fangs unsheathing themselves, steam still rising from the sun-burnt wounds until finally wisping away and bits of my burnt skin turned to ash to flutter to the ground

"I…need you….to stay just there…" I warn them, only for them to ignore my warning coming over to kneel down in front of me taking hold of my wrist to pull my arm out straight investigating the damage, seeing when I turn my face to one side to wince with eyes slipping shut or peeking open slightly to watch what he's doing.

------------------------------------------

Notes:

Title refers how unexpected emotions begin to form in Astarion that he's not used to and how he loses control to them and Halsin the same.

Third part will deal with introducing the Leader of the Party and their background, plus the start of the Mindflyer attack then moving into Act 1

-------------------------------------------

Prologue (2 of 3) - 'Losing Control to Unexpected Emotions Rising within One'

Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun - Early Morning

Astarion's P.O.V:

Halsin – as the Druid or Archdruid to be precise of Emerald Grove is called – is an enigma of a Wood Elf, with most of his time discussing about Nature, protecting the Grove and in his spare time doing mostly mundane things which some to admit were interesting to know about:

his whittling of little carvings of animals so detailed it actually fascinated me to watch from afar doing his work; seeing him resist the temptation of honeyed treats being sold by travelling merchants that couldn’t resist haggling with them to include more of new variations every-time they came back to just watch his eyes sparkle and pretend he’s not drooling over them and finally, seeing him in his bear form allowing children to ride on his back.

Looking over to where he’s discussing something highly important with another Druid – a female Half-elf called Jaheira, who keeps on flicking her gaze over to me wariness showing in her eyes - probably about myself.

Deciding not to hang around, I keep myself to the large grove's shadows, avoiding the spots of sunlight to head to the extensive cave-system of the Emerald Grove.

Within the cave-system, I make my way down towards the halfling merchant - Arron - located nearby a Altar busy checking his wares he's ascertained from his travels.

He stiffens though, ears twitching side to side then turns his gaze to look at me leaning up against a rock pillar in the shadows causing him to give out a ‘Tch, it’s you’ turning to face me where crosses his arms over his chest.

“I told you already, Pale Elf, if you want to sample my wares find out who’s pickpocketing around here.” Arron states, forcing me to raise an eyebrow because it sounds like he's accusing me of being the one doing it.

"And you think I have something to do with it. Heh, I would not resort myself to such lowly act." I state back, slipping myself away deciding I need to go hunting to distract myself from the mutiple heartbeats that head up to the main entrance.

Reaching where the gate is, I stop myself just in time.

The sun has risen at it's highest peak meaning the gate area is completely flooded with light leaving no shadows for me to use to reach it.

Choosing to lean up against a pillar, I find myself looking over at it trying to ascertain whether make a dash for it or wait until nightfall to go hunting for Prey.

Tilting my head backwards, my mind floods to fact I've not felt any sense of my Master Cazador trying to will me back to the Lair where I took lured Prey - most ended up dead and flung into giant pit, others turned in Spawn like me or completely disappeared that even asking would have risked the ire of him so never asked.

"You seem lost in thought, silver-tongue." the disdaining, dripping tone of the female druidess half-elf Jaheira reaches my ears, I lower my head down un-leaning myself from the pillar I brush past her quickly refusing to even acknowledge when find myself suddenly yanked backwards by a glowing tendril of energy straight into large area of sunlight I'd been trying to avoid.

-----------------------------------------------------------

“Jaheira, what have….you done…!!!?”

“You are too soft, Halsin. We cannot trust this, silver-tongue. You must have noticed how ‘it’ avoids the shadows!!!”

“That I already know. It doesn’t mean you act irrational by doing what you did.”

Shuddering into wakefulness, the first thing to reach my nostrils is the scent of wildflowers – a mixture of so many it takes time to list – with my eyes fluttering open to reveal I’m lying naked in a on a bed of vines and wildflowers entwined together in a cocoon with no sunlight penetrating it.

My acute hearing had picked up Halsin berating until finally blessed silence with me having to use my Predator senses to see how many heat signatures are outside of the healing cocoon – only one – with a gap appearing to reveal the large, wood elf.

Realising he may see the circular scar on my back, I try to move myself only for so much agony to shoot through my body I curl into myself with my bandaged hands wrapping around my bandaged waist shaking so much at it.

“Hgnnnhh…..shit…..shit…..”

Cursing under my breath, biting my bottom lip along with his large hands rolling me onto my back – checking me over – until finally a soothing healing wave from both his hands spreads over me. He is leaning over me in the process, I find myself eying the throbbing, pulsing vein in his neck that pumps his lifeforce within his body.

“Is something wrong?” He asks me, so suddenly I don’t know how to give a proper answer to him which may convince him I'm just appreciating his body and not his blood flowing in his veins.

"I…..umm…may I taste…." I begin to ask, only for him to sit back resting his hands on his lap finishing my sentence. "…to taste my blood." it makes me scramble upwards needing to leave only for him to take hold of me turning my chin to force my face into the crook of his neck.

"Drink."

A command, but not a forced, soft and gentle with myself fully turning in his arms to rest up against his large, muscular chest slipping my hand up cradle the back of his head to tilt his head backwards by his soft, hazel brown locks.

Fangs unsheathing themselves, I sink them straight in hearing him give out a stiffening grunt at it knowing he will react to the venom which will give a numbness and pleasured feeling to the Prey being subdued.

All is quiet, except for occasional soft grunts coming from each-time I take a sip of his blood until finally his large arms are pushing me back seeing how drunk I've become on the taste on it - a blush rising on my cheeks, lips coated still in some of it, that it is so addicting it is feat in me trying to avoid going back for more.

Instead, moving myself over him and placing one hand on his chest to push him down to lay flat on his back noting his hazel brown eyes ringed with gold looking up at mine. Putting my hands either side of his head, I bend down my head down to rest my forehead against his wondering should I do it, licking my lips.

“Thank you.” I tell him, finding weird saying it because I’m not used to saying it – I been ingrained in Master Cazador’s rules and have already broken one – before sealing my lips over his, feeling him stiffening underneath me only to respond with soft, equal fervour it is something part of me wants and other is rebelling at it.

I try to pull away, but he pulls me back into devouring my mouth with his own – lips changing position each-time to deepen the kissing between us both, his tongue flicking across them begging admittance so allow for it to happen.

My whole body quivers up against him.

The sensation of his large hands wrapping around my body, one cradling the back of my head and other resting on my back with his warm, moist tongue entwining with mine inside and outside my mouth makes me want to pull away from him.

Managing to release my lips from his, I gasp breathlessly with my face turned to one side willing myself to calm down - use the seductive techniques I use for Prey to take back to Cazador on him.

“Astarion…..look at me.” Halsin says, voice husky with arousal making me turn my face to look up at him seeing how affected he is – his pupils dilated, lips still swollen from our kissing and no doubt his aroused below – then continues to speak. “I…. don’t whether I can control myself in what happens next.”

Bringing both my hands up to cup his cheeks, looking up into those hazel brown eyes ringed gold I realise what is happening to me - I'm losing control to unexpected emotions rising up within me.

And it is frightening me.

------------------------------------

Notes:

Connected to Prologue (2 of 3) - 'Losing Control to Unexpected Emotions Rising within One'

Introducing Asdalen - a drow elf with Dark Urge Origins and also Halsin's Half-brother (more will be explained about that later in further one chapters) and Lesia, his adopted fae child; Asdalen will be the main leader of the party and romance partner will be Gale.

What happens to Astarion and Halsin will be told in flashback.

------------------------------------

Prologue (3 of 3) - 'When an Unexpected Event Separates Those Close to Others'

Location - Baldur's Gate, Sword Coast, Western Heartlands - 'Whispering Weave' Tavern near the Harbour - Approaching Mid-Morning 

12 DAYS LATER

Making my way through the streets of Baldur's Gate towards the 'Whispering Weave' Tavern, I keep an eye on Lesia who is running ahead - her wispy fae form so different from the various Baldurians and other travellers walking back and forth - of me.

My mind is thinking about my half-brother Halsin - an Archdruid of the Emerald Grove located in the Western Heartlands, Western Faerun - knowing it's been quite some time we have met up to discuss things or even talk properly.

Approaching the Tavern, which is near the Harbour, I see two people are walking down towards it - though one of them seems to be keeping mostly to the shadows I notice and the other I recognise is Halsin, who spotting me goes to say something when I finally reach the both of them only to bite his bottom lip which his companion notices before flicking his gaze over to me.

Lesia, spotting Halsin runs up to him to greet him and hold out her little hands to be lifted up by him.

I wait to see whether he will do it, part of me - an unknown, uncontrolled side whispers, 'Kill them both' and other horrendous things - and the more rational side - though don't know how long it will last - knows he can't deny her.

Finally, he bends down to lift her up, surprising his silvery white-haired companion beside him that approach though still with caution because it's been quite some time since seen him.

"Hello, little one." Halsin says, smiling softly with his companion - keeping to the shadows - admiring in their own way until finally turns their gaze to me.

Behind the white-bone mask I wear to cover my face a strange, prickling sense that I'm being analysed by a Predator hits me.

My own unknown Predator's senses soon wanting to confront back and tear their throat out.

----------------------------

Astarion’s P.O.V:

Coming back to Baldur’s Gate after twelve days, I know at some point Cazador will send out my ‘siblings’ to collect me but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to do so as myself and Halsin walk through the marketplace close to the Harbour.

Stopping in the shadows of archway, Halsin turns to face me when sees I seem to be not my usual self – my body tone is showing wariness – so brings a hand up to cup my cheek to reassure me everything is alright with him being here for me.

Immediately resting my forehead against his, hands moving to rest own on his large, muscular chest it makes me realise the twelve days and nights we’ve shared together – his soft, breathless kisses he will give me; reassuring me when nightmares overwhelmed and finally, making sure my bloodthirst is sated – it has felt like freedom.

“I…don’t want to leave you….just yet….” I admit, knowing we must go our separate ways with him heading back to the Emerald Grove and myself back to my ‘prison’ kissing him soon on the lips where he uses his other hand to pull me flush up against him.

Around us the noises of the Harbour and the Marketplace reach my ears – Market stallers shouting out the wares; dock workers heading up and down ramps on ships delivering various goods back and forth and Baldurians going about their daily lives – but I’m not listening to it, just relaxing to kiss my ‘Mate’ is giving me.

Finally pulling back from it, licking my lips at his taste, I smile softly up to him slipping one hand down to clasp my fingers with his, while we soon begin to make our way to the Tavern called 'Whispering Weave' to share a last moment drink before going our separate ways.

Discovering that Halsin had a ‘brother’ of some kind is unexpected, because he never mentioned anything about having a family until now so meeting them – who wears long black thief clothing with hood included, plus bone-white mask hiding their face – along with a little fae child called Lesia, it is taking me some time to try and make sense of them.

I can tell they are like me almost – a Predator fighting their own instincts to attack the presence of another Predator in front of them.

Deciding to introduce myself is the better option of being silent and not saying anything to them.

“You have a beautiful child.” I comment, making them turn their gaze to me.

Body language still showing signs of wariness but relaxing enough to respond back to me.

“She’s….Thank you…Umm…” they begin to say, allowing me to introduce myself. “…Astarion Ancunin, a pleasure to meet you…”

“Asdalen.” They nonchalantly reply, causing Halsin to lower the little one wanting to say something but closes his month instead like he knows it may not help the both of them.

Torn between the awkwardness I’m sensing rising between them both, I decide to relieve it by deciding to say something which is mundane yet helps "I'm famished. How about we all get a bite to eat and all have a good chat together. Maybe even hear some of your lute music, Asdalen.' clapping both my hands together seeing how Lesia jumps up and down at hearing the words 'bite to eat' pulling her adopted father's sleeve.

Halsin having composed himself, slips his arm around my waist to pull me against his side and giving me a certain look of 'I didn't know you had an interest in music' it makes my chest ache at the look he gives me. The sudden thought is that I want to know everything about him - how he become Archdruid, what was his childhood like, how did he find out about his brother - and his brother.

Repair what feels like a fragile relationship between them which could easily be broken anytime.

------------------------

Location - Baldur's Gate, Sword Coast, Western Heartlands - 'Whispering Weave' Tavern near the Harbour - Mid-Morning

Asdalen’s P.O.V:

“Have you been travelling far?”

“Only to certain areas. There’s been some places refusing travellers entry.”

Drunken laughter, chatter and clinking of mugs fills the air with myself and Lesia sitting with Halsin and Astarion in an alcove at the far back of the Tavern where Astarion sitting next to my half-brother is asking me about my travels.

Most of what I tell him is about how on my travels where noticed Missing Poster had been appearing a lot; some places were wary of new travellers due to whispers about raise of Cultists and more monsters beginning to appear in certain areas.

“I see. To admit, I’ve not noticed….that kind of thing due….” Astarion begins to say only tail off, taking a sip of the wine he’s ordered with Halsin moving a hand to place it over his – squeezing it lightly to reassure the pale, High elf who gives weak smile.

‘You’ve been hiding in the shadows for too long.’ I state internally, not saying it out loud lest the Gur Hunters sitting only a few feet away from where we’re sitting overhear and come over to investigate.

Halsin, is happy. A soft, warm glow Lesia describes it to me in silent communication which reassures my brother will be alright in the relationship he has with Astarion leaving me to think of one person who I miss the most – Gale Dekarios, my lover and chosen Mate.

Where is he now?

Is he coping?

Has he returned to Waterdeep?

“Bard, do you play?” A new voice asks of me, leaving the internal questions in my head unanswered, so turn my face to the source seeing a figure wearing fine refine stands there indicating to the lute in the holder on my back.

“I play, yes. It depends on the crowd though and what they would like to hear.” I reply, seeing the newcomer raise one delicate eyebrow in amusement at it. “And you…. what would you like to hear?” asking them a question back to them.

“Me?! Well, let’s see…” They reply, bringing one hand up to tap their chin in deep thought until give small smirk at me. “How about an original composition. I believe this one should suffice ‘Beautiful Voice of the Past’ for you, Bard.”

A violent visible shudder goes through me, Astarion placing his hand on my arm to pull me back down into my seat – I hadn’t realised I had stood up to confront the newcomer – my mind torn in how they knew about the song – a song I composed only for Gale and no-one else – and who played it.

“I don’t play it for crowds.” I whisper under my breath, voice breaking with so much emotion I get back up with Lesia sensing I need to leave allowing me to pick her up.

Politely excusing myself when brush past the newcomer, I weave through the patrons and tables to reach the main Tavern door or would have if it hadn’t been for sudden explosion sending myself and her still in my arms flying backwards over the Tavern bar into the alcohol drink-rack hard.

Followed by tinkling noise of smashed apart bottles of wine, beer and brandy to name a few.

The wooden shelf collapses under my weight, forcing my body to fall to the floor in wounded, bleeding heap of a mess with Lesia beginning to whimper in my arms – her little fae body fading in and out focus due to being very frightened of what is happening – seeing the blurred image of the Tavern patrons running out in all directions only to be cruelly snatched up by what appear to be Mindflyers.

Another explosion rocks the tavern, sending shockwaves through the floorboards which begin to crack and splinter in all directions – sending shards of wood flying in all directions – feeling below me the wooden floor give out on myself with Lesia being wrenched out of my arms by something leaving me to fall into the blackness of the underground cellar.

The faint roars of my Brother’s Wildshape, Lesia crying out my name again and again reach me with Astarion lunging himself towards the collapsed hole made by the falling floorboards to grab hold of my wrist trying in vain to pull me back up – even though I can see he’s struggling due the wounds he’s ascertained.

“Asdalen, quick…..give me your other hand before the next wave hits!!!? It seems to be full-scaled attack on Baldur’s Gate!!!? We need….NO!!!! GET THE HELL AWAY ME…!!!!?” He cries out, only to panic heavily looking over at something or someone I cannot see due to my disadvantaged angle.

A fast, but to me blurred, inky-black shadow speeds it's over to him in such a blink of an eye to knock him over to the other side, leaving me with nothing to grab hold onto to help pull me back up to safety.

Falling for quite some time, I finally reach the bottom of what turns out to be the underground lower cellar for the Tavern with sickening, bone-crunching thud – worse agony than what my own people, the Drows have done to me – it shatters everything instantly, finding myself going limp at it immediatly.

So, this is how I die?

Separated from my half-brother who just met again?

I never got to even tell him…..everything……

Halsin…..Astarion……Lesia…

My thoughts wander in my head, my body is lying shattered beyond compare and any chance of moving is not probable with how serious my injuries are from the shards of glass embedded in it and large wood splinters.

My blood can distantly feel is pooling out from underneath my body or over it to trickle off it to cover the cobbled stones of the cellar in various array of crimson petals.

The unknown, uncontrolled side seems to be gleefully laughing in my head at the demise – death by falling, shattering every bone in my body and allowing my lifeforce to drain away.

It's the last thing I hear before blackness swoops in dark like raven’s wings and I remember nothing thereafter.

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