#afflicted lands

[fiercefauna]

I wanted to elaborate on the Crow-based mounts I’ve been slowly ruminating on. Basically, they are dinosaurs. And their presence in the hinterlands indicates the miasma is very old and has been active in our world for a long time - though birds and dinosaurs are immune to it so - it probably didn’t kill the dinosaurs. (I made birds immune to it to give crows a special status in a goth-themed universe.) Surely someone or something was controlling the miasma long before humans came into the picture - or is it just that the miasma knows better than to drive its prey items into total extinction? Who knows, the hinterlands and their plague-masked inhabitants are full of secrets. You can enjoy my character sheet or delve deeper into the mind of a Terra-Corvus in -

Quoth the Corvus

Zephyr had been living by the yellow house three days before he saw the builder. Not the builder of the house so much as one of the things of the type that had built it. It gave him a name, and he had given it a name. For the time being that name would simply be - Builder. Builder was very ill. But that wasn’t unusual. All the creatures of the type that built and lived in buildings were always very ill when one first encountered them. Very ill, and very, very afraid. Builders were useful, but they needed work before they could start, well, building, yet it was good to maintain one’s environs. Environs needed buildings and builders either made them or had something else to do with them. 

Not all houses had large living rooms but this one did. Zephyr preferred a room in which he could comfortably fit without needing to abide the clutter of the smaller compartments. There wasn’t much he could do save keep his patient warm and oversee occasional inspections by other builders as they gestured about their companion like ants. 

“Tolerance?” He inquired when the feverish little thing propped against his side seemed restless. It would probably make a more fitting name than Builder. “I’m - trying - not - to - offend - you. Is that what you mean by tolerance?”

Zephyr was glad to be sitting down, puzzling out the longer strings of sounds builders produced was difficult. They required so much context. It was often assumed more verbal creatures would be more observant, understanding the greater implications of a situation that made all of those extra words unnecessary. “Offend.” Zephyr replied. “So I can leave?” Builder quickly stood up and fled to the kitchen. Slowly, it was learning to understand plain English, a language it theoretically already spoke. There seemed a bell curve where the complexity of sentences eventually resulted in functional incoherence.  

Finally able to move with out risk of stepping on a limb, Zephyr stood carefully, mindful of a floor not meant for heavy, clawed quadrupeds. His back legs were the greater concern, for his front rested on thick knuckle pads that supported a folded array of defensive digits useful for driving predators away from foals and the vulnerable builders who were either suicidal due their constant suffering or assumed everything was a pet. 

With his beak, he took an overcoat from a couch set against the wall and offered it to his charge. “Temperature!” he enunciated clearly despite the object in his mouth. Builders were often bad at pronouncing things despite their far greater dependence on language. It appeared that “Intelligence” was a severe disability that required constant supervision but rewarded those who could properly care for the builders. For builders made towns and tamed lightning. Having many of them was power and comfort itself but you had to keep them alive. 

So many times just tossing back one’s head and snorting, “nevermore” seemed easier but circumstances always kept one coming back, for there was a need to immediately get in builder’s faces and take control of them before they started using words like “animals.” 

[widowshill]

1966 PARALLEL TIME.

In another version of Collinsport, Maine, where the road diverged in 1956: or, rather, Roger Collins swerved from it. devised with @tortoisesshells <3

DRAMATIS PERSONAE: 

BURKE DEVLIN: husband to LAURA, father to DAVID, and chief financial officer for Collins Enterprises. ELIZABETH'S friend and personal advisor; ROGER'S friend, adversary, fixation, and supervisor.

ROGER COLLINS: part-shareholder and glorified office boy at the Collins cannery. uncle and father-figure to CAROLYN; soon-to-be divorcé; the last Collins.

ELIZABETH COLLINS STODDARD: has majority control of the business and the household, depending steadily on her brother. facilitated ROGER'S engagement with family friends in London, but the marriage produced no children.

CAROLYN STODDARD: sole heiress to Collinwood, the business, and fortune. student at Bryn Mawr college. sometimes-girlfriend of JOE HASKELL on school holidays.

VICTORIA WINTERS: secretary, companion, and all other duties as assigned. MRS. STODDARD'S primary liaison between Collinwood and the cannery.

SAM EVANS: artist and part-time illustrator for Rumson Publishing Company. father to MAGGIE EVANS, whom he helps put through night classes.

BILL MALLOY: ELIZABETH'S fleet manager: oversees daily operations and management of the boats, leaving BURKE to the finances. safe harbor for Collinsport strays.

[divinekangaroo]

falling - pettiot - Peaky Blinders (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

PART ONE - DAY ONE

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9

PART TWO - MONTH ONE (Or Maybe Month Two, Or Three)

Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | Ch 13 | Ch 14 | Ch 15 | Ch 16 | Ch 17 | Ch 18

PART THREE - A YEAR (Or So)

Ch 19 | Ch 20 | Ch 21 | Ch 22 | Ch 23 | Ch 24 | ??

A Modern AU take on Tommy's immediate return from military service, and the period between his demobilisation and the start of S1.

(Tags shall be progressively updated)

.

Tommy Shelby/Lizzie Stark, Tommy Shelby/Freddie Thorne, Arthur Shelby, Polly Grey, Ada Shelby, John Shelby, Johnny Dogs, Various Lees, John Shelby's Children, Zhang, S1E1 Red Dust Girl, Sergeant Moss | Alternative Universe, Modern AU (ish), No iPhones (yet), Awkwardness, Age Difference, Disassociation, Miscommunication, Banter, Fast Food Vendor of your Choice, Pre-Season, Past Trauma, Flirting, Have I Met You Before, Heckling, Cars, Drug Use, Past Childhood Trauma, Mrs Shelby Lives, Gender Role Dynamics, Small Neighbourhoods, Past Greta Jurossi, Brotherly Dynamics, Sibling Dynamics, Class Issues, Attraction, Casual Sex, Car Sex, Military Transition Program, Wilful Medical Noncompliance, Melodrama, Illegal Bookmaking, 90s Fashion, 2000s Fashion, Slow Reveal, Slow Burn, Coming Home, Dysfunctional Family, Lasting Legacy of Catholicism, Bad SMS Etiquette, Gang Activity, Domesticity, Booty Call, Guilt, Shame, So Much Marijuana, Arms Dealing, Crimes & Criminals, Ill Informed Economic Theorising, Wanking, Ethnicity, Stereotyping

.

[saint-starflicker]

I do sympathize with people feeling the age about book protagonists who were the same age or older than the readers at the time of publication when they read the new releases, and now there's remakes or prequels and those characters are still young

but also...

...doesn't anybody still write post-canon future-fics?

The new generation of fans can still enjoy the new canon.

But imaginary people can do anything. Imaginary people can get old. They can get old and wrangle rent. They can take cars to mechanics. They can wait in line to do government paperwork and then wait in even more line. They can fall behind on slang or tech, and get shocked and scandalized by upcoming trends.

Doesn't that alleviate the angst?

[gigginox]

oughhogfugh zinogre

[lordgodjehovahsway]

Judges 2: God Sent An Angel To Remind The Israelites Of His Promise To Them And Their Disobedience To Him

1 The angel of the Lord went up from Gilgal to Bokim and said, “I brought you up out of Egypt and led you into the land I swore to give to your ancestors. I said, ‘I will never break my covenant with you, 

2 and you shall not make a covenant with the people of this land, but you shall break down their altars.’ Yet you have disobeyed me. Why have you done this? 

3 And I have also said, ‘I will not drive them out before you; they will become traps for you, and their gods will become snares to you.’”

4 When the angel of the Lord had spoken these things to all the Israelites, the people wept aloud, 

5 and they called that place Bokim. There they offered sacrifices to the Lord.

Disobedience and Defeat

6 After Joshua had dismissed the Israelites, they went to take possession of the land, each to their own inheritance. 

7 The people served the Lord throughout the lifetime of Joshua and of the elders who outlived him and who had seen all the great things the Lord had done for Israel.

8 Joshua son of Nun, the servant of the Lord, died at the age of a hundred and ten. 

9 And they buried him in the land of his inheritance, at Timnath Heres in the hill country of Ephraim, north of Mount Gaash.

10 After that whole generation had been gathered to their ancestors, another generation grew up who knew neither the Lord nor what he had done for Israel. 

11 Then the Israelites did evil in the eyes of the Lord and served the Baals. 

12 They forsook the Lord, the God of their ancestors, who had brought them out of Egypt. They followed and worshiped various gods of the peoples around them. They aroused the Lord’s anger 

13 because they forsook him and served Baal and the Ashtoreths. 

14 In his anger against Israel the Lord gave them into the hands of raiders who plundered them. He sold them into the hands of their enemies all around, whom they were no longer able to resist. 

15 Whenever Israel went out to fight, the hand of the Lord was against them to defeat them, just as he had sworn to them. They were in great distress.

16 Then the Lord raised up judges, who saved them out of the hands of these raiders. 

17 Yet they would not listen to their judges but prostituted themselves to other gods and worshiped them. They quickly turned from the ways of their ancestors, who had been obedient to the Lord’s commands. 

18 Whenever the Lord raised up a judge for them, he was with the judge and saved them out of the hands of their enemies as long as the judge lived; for the Lord relented because of their groaning under those who oppressed and afflicted them. 

19 But when the judge died, the people returned to ways even more corrupt than those of their ancestors, following other gods and serving and worshiping them. They refused to give up their evil practices and stubborn ways.

20 Therefore the Lord was very angry with Israel and said, “Because this nation has violated the covenant I ordained for their ancestors and has not listened to me, 

21 I will no longer drive out before them any of the nations Joshua left when he died. 

22 I will use them to test Israel and see whether they will keep the way of the Lord and walk in it as their ancestors did.” 

23 The Lord had allowed those nations to remain; he did not drive them out at once by giving them into the hands of Joshua.

[dullahandyke]

need to do a thing but im too busy envisioning a crossover fic in which ienzo kingdomhearts and athena cykes become bffs

[random-hippocat]

instead of sleeping I am researching insomnia

[simpjaes]

head empty..i just finished reading hypersexual for the nth time and i cant help it. please PLEASE PLEASE give me hyung line thoughts on all of them with the same affliction. its not a want anymore i need it sj PLEASE

hyper sexual hyung line

☆ jay:

jay is the type to let himself lose his mind until he enters dangerous territory. he has so many pocket pussies, he's fucked just about anything he can get his hands on to offer new sensations. has dabbled in porn that he should be incredibly ashamed of and only keeps getting worse...i think he'd need someone just like himself if he were suffering with chronic boner syndrome. all day, all night. drop out of college babe, he needs to get his dick wet. probably leads into a lot of different kinks too. public stuff mostly. what's even better is the thought of how insane he gets without it....and you, depriving him of it for fun. dom jay lets go. anyway, jay is also the type to genuinely expect you to drop out and let him take care of you if it means you'll spread your legs 24/7 for him.

★ jake:

this is basically just a small description of jake from the fic: hyper sexual, but yeah. He genuinely has an issue with jerking off to the point that he's practically numb to the feeling of his own hand, or jerking off in general. He can't fucking get off to anything anymore, which sucks when your cock is always pulsing and leaking in your pants. He's the type to go through every fucking dating app, never able to land a girl because he genuinely is just...way way too much for them. Absolutely gets horny at work, and practically tastes the heavens when any mention of "free use" is considered. Def into somno, and borderline dangerous if he doesn't get what he needs.

☆ sunghoon:

hides it well until he doesn't in the form of a huge boner always poking his friends via hug simply bc they rubbed against his arm the wrong way and he's way too sensitive. And thats what I think about sunghoon, he's sensitive. Any touch, any lingering touch will have him wanting to bury himself into anyone, fucking anything to feel good. definitely the type to pay sex workers for their services but also make them breakfast the next day before asking for a freebie. He would very likely go bankrupt if he can't find a girl to match his energy and be ready to fuck the second he pulls it out.

★ heeseung:

GOONER. an entire porn addict. Heeseung will jerk off to a fucking gaming magazine that shows a group of guys playing a table-top game just because there is a leg at the corner of a picture that kind of looks like it belongs to a girl he would absolutely fuck. he's desperate about it, which doesn't work in his favor at all. he's probably similar to jake in terms of being very close to committing....not good things. like, he will probably end up with restraining orders at one point because he'll find someone he wants to fuck and basically become obsessed with them until they give in. but hey, it's hard to meet people when you spend all day at home online, right? gotta make it count when he finds someone :/

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Aegon is the best big brother to his sweet sister, who is in third trimester of pregnancy; not only does he help her relieve the feeling of her heavy breasts by sucking on her tits greedily like a babe, he sometimes helps the aching feeling between her legs by sticking his cock, tongue or fingers in her cunny

Such a good brother, especially when she’s not even his wife

Blood of my Blood.

PAIRING: Older!Brother!Aegon ii Targaryen x Little!Sister!Fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,715.

WARNINGS: incest to the max, implied affair [Aegon is the father of the child], age gap [reader is of mature/consensual age], lactation kink, pregnancy kink, slight reference to breeding kink, p in v sexual intercourse, possessive!Aegon, swearing.

A/N - now I NEVER write brother x sister tropes even in the ASOIAF universe just because it’s not really my cup of tea, but this ask sparked something very very feral in me. I might make a neice x uncle version of this or a Daddy Aeg x daughter!reader version.

credit to the owners of the images.

Curse the Gods who afflicted the journey of motherhood, for it could be such a gruelling thing... Heading into the final few moons of your first pregnancy, you had never felt such intense discomfort in your life. Your beloved mother, Queen Alicent, had informed you of such grievances, although with little empathy for her pregnancies had been quite embracing and facile. Your eldest sister, Helaena, having already given birth to a set of twins, now in the early stages of her current pregnancy with your elder brother, Aemond, could somewhat console you, becoming an anchor of support.

It was Aegon, your eldest of the siblings, that you seemed most attached to, for it was Aegon that granted you bliss in your pregnancy, more so than your absent husband, some delinquent lord of the Vale. You had argued your way with your mother, and batted your eyes to your father, begging you to stay in King's Landing, in familiar territory with the finest maesters at hand. More so, it was Aegon who had plotted with you this essential plan.

"Do you truly think that the maesters of the Vale and that imbecile you call husband will keep you safe and satisfied, dear sister? Not in the least... But I can."

Aegon's temptress of a tongue was convincing alone, although it had been his merciful gestures of chivalry that kept you sane and grounded. Easing your aches and pains of expecting, Aegon became your sole beacon of ease, like the formidable arms of a warrior and you, the damsel he heroically carries.

"Do they ache again, sweet sister?"

The softness in his husky, drowsy voice breaking the silence of the chamber, woke you whole from your half-hearted daze. You had both succumbed to slumber [often Aegon insisted that you remain closely by his side, even in bed] what felt like hours long ago, and yet through the ginger firelight, by the open window, night remained swallowing the sky.

"Mhmm-" You uneasily stir: weakly trying to muster enough strength to sit yourself upright: however, with the sheer, bulging mass of your grown belly you visibly struggled until Aegon's efforts of pulling you effortlessly upright ended your dilemma.

"Want me to help, princess?"

His calloused, thick hands began to rub small, soothing circles against your lower back, knowing the babe inside exerted much pressure on your lower spine: its weight growing more rigid with each passing month.

"You've helped me enough, Aegon. I mustn't ask more from you... If this state is any indication of me being a mother, consider me a terrible one," You defeatedly utter, one hand stretched from behind supporting your upright position, whilst the other softly caressed at the protruding temple of your clothed belly.

"Don't speak like that, Y/N, dearest. This is your first babe, you must understand your body is adjusting. Hel suffered a great deal with the twins also, and now, look at her... You are going to be a beautiful mother, indeed. I have no doubt...C'me here."

Lightly tapping at your exposed thigh, your night gown had been pulled up just below your way with all the commotion and movement. Obeying, Aegon summoned you onto his lap, shirtless he had entered the bed, however before you could even gather motion to straddle yourself atop: he'd managed to tear away his undergarments, leaving his exposed girth, reddened at the tip with excitement. Modestly covering himself with the sheer, ivory linen.

"Right now?" Your snappy tone vicious, however Aegon remained unfazed.

"Well, little sister, if I'm being quite frank it seems you've been dreaming quite vividly... Do you not hear the moans and pleas that escape your lips in sleep, crying out for me, begging... Want your elder to sate you, is it? Was that babe growing inside of you not enough, you wish me to spoil you some more, hmm?"

"A-Aeg- We shouldn't..." You meekly whimper, a surge of heat coursing through your face, certain your cheeks had grown scarlet with shame.

"All you had to do was ask."

His dark voice a low growl, like some concealed predator eager to ambush. Aegon's motions remained in contrast, tender and cautious, easing your delicate and sensitive frame over his wide, gelatinous thighs. A scorching sensational painfully heightened sent lightning bolts in waves throughout the entirety of your body, shuddering with excitement as your aching cunt eased itself over his pulsating cock. It had been a while since you had been intimate with Aegon like this, prior to the pregnancy in fact: the changes your body had undergone since were bracing and raw.

Feeling the tensity beneath and the heat as you began to bob ever so slowly and sensually over Aegon's tense, fat cock: feeling its hard tip hitting at your cervix [you had hoped rather than the babe]. Your tight walls overstretched, desperate to adjust to his girthy width, you swore to yourself it had never felt this stimulating ever before: every primal sense in your body, every fibre of your being resisting the urge to collapse into a faint against Aegon's soft chest, gripping onto the bare, pale skin of his broad shoulders for dear life.

"That's it, rūs [baby], doing so-so well. It hurts I know, but Daddy's gonna make you feel so much better. Keep going, princess."

Head rolling back in admiration, you felt the intensity from between your inner thighs beginning to lessen, a wetness pooling between, coating the friction to ease the motions. Your hands release their strong hold over him, as your eyes began to wonder over his body, you had immediately noticed the raw, reddened marks lashed across his ivory skin. To avoid any more damage, you guide your relaxed hands up towards Aegon's short strands.

Tugging and playfully pulling at the loose, platinum locks, whilst Aegon's face remained buried, eagerly lapping at your petal-like skin on the base of your neck. One strong arm snaked around your back, gripping you firmly by the neck providing some lumbar support, whilst the other strategically untied the knots of lace at the front of your night gown, exposing your voluptuously full tits. Hardened nipples raw and perky, even as Aegon teasingly flicked at your tit with this thumb, a grimace forming across his handsome face you felt against your skin: kneading the swollen, plump flesh with his palm, you instinctively squirmed and moaned with such debility.

"Seven Hells, you are so fucking full, dārilaros [princess]. This babe is going to be so spoiled. Such a good Mumma, already eager with milk for the bub... Could feed the an entire realm, Mumma."

"J-Just you A-Aeg. Only you get to taste this sweet m-milk before the babe. T-Tell me how good I taste," Stuttering whimpers mottled between mouthful of moans echoed between the dense walls of Aegon's royal chambers. His fat cock still buried and plunging itself deeply inside of you, penetrating against your already tainted and filled womb, Aegon's hand cupped at your breast from beneath. Lifting your tit upwards, latching his mouth tightly against its curvature peak.

"Mhmm- Keep going big boy... M-Making me feel s-so good, A-Aeg. H-Have your full."

The imminent relief your occupied tit began to succumb to, felt like a blissful dream. You felt your breath could finally release, not hitched against your throat from the sheer agony of feeling it was about to burst. The milk you intently sensed, lusciously pouring into Aegon's ravenous mouth, his plump, moist lips suckling at your skin, totally encompassing the nipple in its entirety. His teeth lightly gnawed at your flesh, however, it was a pleasant sensation nonetheless.

"So w-warm and fresh- Gonna f-fill me up so fucking much. P-Poor princess... The weight of these, the copious a-amount- I-I'm greedy for you. Sh-Should've fucked you earlier in your womanhood... Drenching your w-womb of my seed, till we fill the keep i-if need be. M-Mother would rather enjoy it."

Aegon, famished like a destitute of the realm, bathed his taste-buds of your milk from one breast and onto the other: regaining his breath between each as he felt inclined to credit your production. Descending his face down once more, he spared no further second wasting away, as he continued to fervently feed, like a man starved of pure water.

"Th-The el-eldest you may b-be, such a b-big baby y-you are. S-So needy for me, huh? A-Always needing t-to take me, m-make me yours. Every bit of me... Is devout t-to you, A-Aegon."

As if your breathless, sensual words had struck a chord in him, a man gone mad with a fever. His hold on you had tightened, his mouth suckled deeper, tugging at the flesh of your bosom, whilst his cock felt it had grown a size more inside of you. The wet mess coating between your inner thighs now glazed all over Aegon's plump lap, expressed no denial of his power over you, the purpose he gave to you. In theory and practice, you felt your body collapsing into a bliss, a shudder of ecstasy waved through your feeble body as you screamed for Aegon, a gush of your wetness coating all over his stiff cock buried inside. Only to be met with Aegon's mutual appreciation of your vulnerability and submission towards him.

"That's it, baby. Such a beautiful woman... Gevives [beauty]. You honour me with this holy act. You privilege me to your womb, your body and your life... Skorkydoso kostagon nyke mirre deny ao mirros? [How can I ever deny you anything?]."

Easing yourself off of Aegon, your limp, frail body tiresome and relieved of such exploits endured. Aegon knew better than to leave you to your own strength, as absent as it was: carrying you over towards your empty side of the bed, still laying you closely against his natural warmth.

"Continue to serve me, brother. And I shall pay it back 100 times over... And besides, if it had not been for your mischief many moons ago, I would not be in such a state. Although, I wouldn't have it any other way, Aegon... I love you."

"Avy jorrāelan [I love you], my dearest, sweet little sister. Continue as you are and I might have to fuck another babe in you once more to teach you a lesson or two."

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @zaldritzosrose

Aegon ii taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11 @bucknastysbabe @callsignwidow

credit for divider - @/saradika-graphics

[assumptionprime]

Playing Dark Souls 2 again and damn, in spite of its rough edges, I think it’s my favorite.

They’re all good, mind you. Dark Souls 1 is the foundation, and 3 is playing the hits while also saying that it can’t just play the hits forever and has to end.

And Dark Souls 2 is doing its own weird different thing and I love it.

I think it has the best story of the three games, because it really concerns itself with people.

The intro isn’t a list of people and monsters you need to kill, it’s your story. How you came into this land. You are afflicted with the curse of undeath, and it’s destroying your life and your mind. Everything that follows is based around that. You’re not the Chosen Undead, a title put on you in the first game because of a role you’re expected to play in some legend. You’re the Bearer of the Curse, because that’s your concern in all this, your curse.

You see it afflict others throughout the game, too. Most of the characters in Majula can’t remember how they got here, their goals, their lives before Drangleic are fading, same as yours. Lucatiel is by far my favorite NPC in any Souls game, a tragic view of another cursed undead that doesn’t quite make it. You fight alongside her. She confides in you, forms a bond with you. And then, as the last remnants of her mind, her self, leave her, she begs you to remember her name. Vendrick, the mighty king of Drangleic, is a shell of himself. He shuffles around in his own tomb, having long ago succumbed to the curse. He may as well already be dead. In every way that matters, he is.

And if you don’t figure something out, it’s going to happen to you, too.

Some to do has been made about the world layout not making sense. Some say it’s bad design or development troubles leading to compromises. Others say it’s intentional, that time and space are warped, though I think that’s either not true here or done much better in DS3. I subscribe to a third camp I’ve seen a bit less frequently: These nonsensical ways you move between some of these places are because you forgot how you got from one place to the other.

“So you got to the top of the tower, then what?”

“Oh, then I got on an elevator, which took me up— up to… I was on an elevator… then I was in an old keep sinking into a lake of lava.”

You’re losing your mind and your memory, you just can’t remember what happened between Earthen Peak and Old Iron Keep.

So you go slay the old ones, find Vendrick, seek out the ancient dragon, defeat Nashandra and—

It doesn’t work. You don’t cure the curse. You can either take the throne, or keep looking for a cure. We don’t see what kind of monarch you are to your ruined kingdom if you stay. And we don’t see you find a cure to the curse if you leave.

You lose.

It’s left to you to decide, does continuing to fight this fate have meaning? Is the struggle, in and of itself, worthwhile?

Dark Souls 2 is about going Hollow, and I love that it goes in such a different direction with its lore and story to be that.

[silverfairywings]

— IN THE WAKE OF FLAMES. PT II

eris vanserra x reader

summary: even before you became fae, your favourite season was autumn. it’s a little hard to hide this when your least favourite newly appointed high lord has made it his life’s mission to be the most annoying male in your life.

a/n: this one’s really long sorry!! not proofread and I’ve decided it’s going to be incredibly slow burn… send ur thoughts, and if you want to be in the tag list please send an ask instead as I’m more like to see it :)

You make the mistake of breathing in deeply through your nose as you walk through the meadow of the Spring Court, the crisp air and smell of wildflowers tickling its way into your nostril and forcing a sneeze out of you.

The long stems of grass, wet with morning dew and brushing against your calves are like little needles poking your skin. The itching sensation in your nose caused by the sheer amount of flowers makes your eyes water and all you can think about is the relentless urge to sneeze over and over again.

“I don’t think there’s a single living thing within 50 miles that hasn’t scurried away,” Rhysand says, as if he’s commenting on the weather. You open your mouth to respond, but before you can even form the words on your lips, the thought vanishes as the tickle flares up in your nose again and another sneeze explodes from you. “I think that was sneeze number nineteen and we’ve only been here fifteen minutes.”

“I can’t help it. How does anyone live amongst all of this greenery without wanting to scratch their faces off?” you ask, sniffling pathetically. “And how long before the others arrive? Surely counting my sneezes is below the duties of a High Lord.”

“Most Fae don’t suffer with your affliction. It’s probably something to do with how you were Made,” Azriel adds, not unkindly. He stands slightly further away from you, Rhys and Nesta and if it weren’t for his shadows, you’d have thought he was too preoccupied with keeping watch to listen in. “And it’s sneeze number eighteen actually.”

Nesta narrows her eyes, peering behind Azriel and then sighing in relief. “Thank the Mother,” she mumbles. “Took them long enough. If I had to hear another word about your damned nose…”

You sniff loudly to make a point. You’re about to reply until you spot the two figures in the distance, walking towards the three of you at a deliberately unhurried pace. You first recognise Helion, the morning rays of sun setting his skin aglow as though his powers commanded them to; you wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually doing as much to make a fashionable entrance. The charming grin he shoots your ways is contagious and you can’t help returning it until your focus shifts to the person beside him and you try not to let your face drop.

Even half-shielded from view, the sight of Eris sets your teeth on edge. His tall, lean frame sharply contrasts with the brightness of the meadow, his deep mahogany tunic making him stand out further amongst the flowers. The way he walks with such easy arrogance and moves with an infuriatingly casual stride as though he just belongs there makes your skin prickle with irritation.

Eris’ sharp amber eyes sweep across the group until they land on you for a short moment, a flicker of recognition and something else you don’t care to analyse in his gaze before he turns back to Rhys. The brief looks feels like a challenge and you feel your irritation growing, so you wrench your gaze away from him and focus on Helion instead.

“My, what a pleasant little group we’ve compiled,” the High Lord of Day says, tone pleasant and amused as always. He tilts his head, considering. “Morrigan wasn’t available?”

“She’s with Feyre, Elain and Tarquin,” Rhys responds with a roll of his eyes, but his faint smile tells you he’s pleased to see Helion, rather than annoyed. Nesta looks as though she wants nothing more than to go home, and Azriel looks impassive as always. “They’re covering the border on the East side.”

“Lovely group all the same,” Helion hums, winking at you, teasingly. You shake your head at him, smiling despite yourself. “Shall we?”

Gesturing ahead of you all, Helion starts walking and the rest of you follow, but not before Eris catches your gaze again and raises an eyebrow in question. Your cheeks warm and the smile you had previously given Helion starts to slip, but Eris looks away and walks ahead before you can fully react. The few seconds at a time that you engage in eye contact with the male have you assessing how his expression is sharper than it previously was.

His hair is shorter, you realise. The fiery red strands are no longer draping down his back, instead the ends are no longer than his shoulders, the tips just brushing against his collarbones. The previously long front pieces have been cropped short, his hair no longer looking long enough to tie back in a braid without falling back.

It’s almost as though there’s now nothing to soften the intensity of his gaze every time it passes over you and if that weren’t enough to unsettle you, it’s the realisation that you’re paying more attention to Eris’ hair than to the main reason you’re here in the first place.

Diplomatic relationships had greatly improved between Tamlin and the rest of the High Lords after many years of healing after the war. The Spring Court, while nearly restored to its former glory, had become the target of some recent attacks near the borders. Thus, Tamlin had requested the assistance of the other courts, with the exception of no outside help, ever the paranoid High Lord. Unfortunately, that excludes the security of the soldiers you’ve grown accustomed to, which has you looking over your shoulder every few minutes.

You knew Eris had agreed to help, but you weren’t aware he’d be in such close quarters. Well, as close as he could be with you walking right next to Nesta at the back of the group as she twisted and turned the hem of her dress keep it from getting caught on all the foliage.

“Remind me why we agreed to this,” she mutters under her breath, not quietly enough.

Rhysand throws a look over his shoulder while walking. “Because Tamlin requested our help,” he answers, his tone carefully neutral. “And we have a responsibility to agree to reasonable requests from other High Lords. If not to keep the peace between the Courts, then to ensure whatever’s happening doesn’t become a larger problem for the rest of us.”

“You know Tamlin’s not here, right?” Eris drawls, sardonically. “Meaning we don’t have to act like we actually like him.”

“What, the same way we act like we like you?” you mumble, unable to stop the words from escaping. You wince when Nesta snorts loudly, hiding her laughter in her hand. Even Azriel’s lips quirk up.

Eris finally looks over at you properly this time with a faint smirk, tilting his head. “You wound me, darling,” he says, his voice a silky challenge that you know from experience is daring you to push him further. “But I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”

You force yourself to meet his eyes, physically unable to back down now that he’s spoken. It’s as though he flips a switch of irritation in you every time he talks, yet you never learn your lesson. It’s something to do with the amusement in his gaze, as if he enjoys your quick retorts that really gets under your skin.

“And you’re irritating as always,” you say, sighing as though you’re delivering unfortunate news. You look away, dismissively as you walk a little faster in an attempt to catch up to Nesta, from whom you’ve fallen behind. “But none of us would expect anything less from you.”

Eris continues walking at a leisurely pace, still closer to you than you are to Nesta and the others. Damn these stupid long-stemmed flowers.

A couple of them are particularly overgrown, the pollen seeming to waft right up into your nose and setting you off sneezing again. One particularly violent sneeze sends you stumbling and the world spins for a split second. Before you can hit the ground, a firm hand grips your elbow and pulls you upright, causing your back to bump against a solid chest.

You steady yourself and spin around to come face to face with Eris. His hand lingers on your arm, amber eyes glinting with amusement when you glance down, frowning before you yank it out of his grip. “I don’t need your help.”

“Clearly,” he replies drily, but doesn’t comment any further, taking a step back while keeping his eyes on you. His unwavering gaze makes you freeze, and it’s like he can sense your confusion as his lips quirk up. Bizarrely, he doesn't seem to be making fun of you, instead he just looks as though you’re both engaged in your usual banter and he’s enjoying it.

“Keep up, children,” Helion’s voice from ahead snaps you out of it and you step away, smoothing down your clothes and rushing forward to catch up with the others.

Before you looked away though, you caught Eris’ expression being schooled back into his usual aloof demeanour. It unsettles you, but you push the thought away as Nesta tilts her head at you in questioning. You shake your head slightly and smile reassuringly in answer, but her eyes narrow a little in suspicion.

The further you venture into the forest, the more your head clears, away from the pollen in the meadow, indicating you’re close to the border. The large trees offer you a welcome shade and you take a deep breath.

You’re grateful when you’re unable to sense any oncoming sniffling, but something else starts to tug at the edges of your awareness. It starts off as subtle and you brush it off, but the closer you get to the edges of the forest and nearer to the border, the stronger it becomes.

Rhys calls for a halt when you’ve reached your destination and your feet start to walk you to the walls of magic on their own accord. No one stops you, but they watch warily as you close your eyes, trying to understand what you’re sensing.

It’s took a while to come to terms with the abilities thrust upon you by the Cauldron, the ability to detect and absorb other people’s magic. You felt confident enough to distinguish what you felt from the magic of the people around you and it makes you exhale shakily.

“What is it?” Rhys murmurs, voice sharp but quiet as not to disrupt your concentration. You don’t need to sense anything else though, and so you turn around and shake your head.

“Fae magic,” you answer, slightly underwhelmed. “Just regular, old Fae magic. I don’t think there’s anything sinister here.”

The group all seem to visibly relax slightly, although Azriel’s shadows are still flitting around him like a flock of birds, some venturing out to explore and then returning to whisper at his ears. “Whoever was here has gone now. It’s just us.”

“What does it feel like?” Nesta asks, directing the question to you. She’s referring to the magic, knowing you can usually detect a type of feeling with each strain. “How dangerous?”

“It’s not that it’s dangerous,” you explain, feeling the weight of everyone’s expectant gazes. “It’s more angry than anything. And there’s so many of them, all with slightly different undertones.”

“Ah, how wonderful,” Helion remarks, cheery demeanour never slipping. “A large group of angry Fae with the nerve to attack the borders of a known crazed High Lord. Not dangerous in the slightest.”

You send him a withering stare, with no real heat in it. Rhysand ignores him, glancing back at the rest of you. “We should split up for a while. If something feels off, send out a message and we can regroup. Stay alert.”

You all nod, about to wander off until Helion catches everyone’s attention when he starts to literally glow.

The forest is darker where you all stand and it looks even more concealed further ahead so you aren’t surprised he’s doing as such, but the bright light is nearly blinding.

Eris scowls, the flames swirling around his own hands giving just enough illumination without drawing attention. “Why not just send out a beacon to alert everyone to our exact location?”

Helion frowns, glancing at Rhys who, surprisingly, just shrugs. The High Lord of Day sighs dramatically. “Fine,” he cedes, dimming his light slightly. “Happy, little Lord?”

“Ecstatic,” he deadpans, walking off without another word. The rest of you follow suit, going in opposite directions to inspect the border for signs of anything.

You’ve only been walking around for a few minutes alone, trying to feel unique differences in the magic that lingers around you, still fresh. It’s harder than you thought it would be and you’re so frustrated that you let your guard down.

You don’t hear the snap of the twig, but from the corner of your eye, you catch movement and reach for the dagger by your hip instinctively, spinning round toward the source. You swing the dagger out in front of you in a defensive position, just to see that it’s Eris emerging from behind a tree, his amber eyes glinting with amusement.

“Did I startle you?” he drawls, his tone dropping with feigned innocence.

Scowling, you sheathe your blade. “Do you enjoy sneaking around like that? Or do you just have an unhealthy desire to annoy me?”

Eris raises his eyebrows and his smirk deepens like you’ve just said something extremely entertaining. “Well, it’s a talent really, but what was that about desire? Because, that-”

“Stop,” you sigh, wanting nothing less than to hear out the rest of that sentence. “Just… go away and let me focus on this magic.”

You turn away from him and shut your eyes in concentration, but it doesn’t work as you dont hear him move. Knowing Eris is standing there watching you is doing nothing to help, and you’re about to say so when he speaks first.

“How do you know it’s not just mine or Helion’s magic you’re sensing?” he asks, seemingly serious. You frown at him, thinking he’s joking.

“Well, I have met the two of you before,” you reply, injecting your voice with as much sarcasm as possible. “I know what your magic feels like.”

“And?” Eris tilts his head in question. “What does it feel like?”

“Helion’s magic feels bright, awake and fresh and yours feels…” Inviting, warm, strong. You don’t say anything, because you can’t really explain what you sense in his magic as you still don’t fully understand it. Why you’re drawn to it the same way you would be drawn to jumping into a pile of autumn leaves outside your home as a child. You swallow, looking away. “Different.”

It’s not unusual for you to gravitate to certain magical auras, but it’s only ever been towards close friends, family, some select strangers with whom you had a kind word, for example.

Thankfully, Eris doesn’t push. Annoyingly, however, he changes the subject. “Have you considered my mother’s invite to come and visit Autumn?”

“Shush!” you hiss at him, shooting a glance over your shoulder to see if any of the Inner Circle are nearby. The last thing you need is for them to overhear your conversation. It would lead to an unbearable series of questions, interrogations and endless teasing.

Eris’ chuckle is soft, taunting. “Why so nervous, darling? Afraid your friends will finally put two and two together and realise how you truly feel about their beloved court?”

The mental image of Rhys being disappointed in you makes you feel physically sick. He took you in, gave you a place to be free and opened up his home to you. All for you to go and feel like you don’t even belong? Your chest tightens and you decide you could never do that to him. You glare at Eris and attempt to keep your voice steady. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Liar,” he drops his voice down to a whisper. “Would it really be so bad if your High Lord knew the truth?”

You swallow the rising panic in your body, the fear that he’s going to use your insecurities that only he can sense to his advantage. You close the distance between the two of you and your voice is low and sharp as you speak. “What the hell do you want from me, Eris?”

Eris’ expression falters slightly, like you’ve taken him by surprise for a split second. “What?”

“What could you possibly want from me?” you let out a derisive laugh, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “Do you enjoy holding things over me? Because I can’t think of anything I could give you that you don’t already have. So, if you are blackmailing me for something, then I’d prefer if you just came out with it already.”

The words spill out of you with an intensity that you’ve bottled up since you last argued with Eris, but your anger dims slightly when you realise he’s no longer looking amused. Instead, he stares at you with a blank expression and it’s somehow worse than if he were insulting you.

You realise just how close you had gotten to him only when he steps back slowly, as though wanting to draw your attention to the lack of space, snapping you out of whatever furious trance you were in.

A moment passes before he allows himself to give you a faint smirk, but his jaw is clenched and his eyes flicker with something you can’t figure out. “We should get back to your precious High Lord.”

You open your mouth to say… something. You aren’t even sure what there’s left to say, especially since the whole interaction has left you more unsettled than ever. “I-”

“Keep your guard up, Archeron,” he just says, cutting you off before turning around to walk away without sparing you another glance.

tag list: @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @abysshaven @nayaniasworld @rcarbo1 @paleidiot @tenshis-cake @bunnyredgirl

[lovelybluebirdie]

The astonishing failure of a simple plan

Astarion x f!Reader

Summary: Astarion tries to wrap his head around you, when a sudden tumult in camp occurs.

[AO3]

The concept of altruism had always been quite strange to Astarion.

Doing something solely for benefiting others, without one's own needs primarily in mind – how outrageously foolish. 

And yet, he caught himself considering the idea more often since he had met you. 

You, the soft-hearted soul who always seemed to stumble directly into the next best opportunity to solve the problems of complete strangers that would cross your way – gladly interfering with any sort of personal drama. 

Although you and the rest of your travel companions had been infected with a tadpole to the brain, leaving you in desperate need for a cure to this rather urgent condition, somehow you would always manage to save a child from getting gruesomely killed by harpies, pick a fight with a powerful hag to rescue some random woman you just met or annihilate an entire camp full of goblins to ensure safe travels for a bunch of Tieflings – without at least demanding a proper compensation for all your troubles. 

You just did those things, and it drove Astarion mad.  

Perhaps one of the reasons for your undeniable saviour complex were the recurring thoughts that plagued you. You had once explained it as particularly dark urges, the impulse to hurt and kill spreading its roots inside your brain, evolving into a yearn to act out the most gruesome visions one could imagine. Gloriously kill an innocent to bathe in their blood, crush a squirrel to death with your bare fists or rip off a stranger's hand in need of help – malicious ideas that would otherwise never cross your mind.

The origin of these unwanted desires were unknown to you, but you sensed that it had to be connected to your past somehow – a part of you that had yet to be completely revealed. Of course, you had sworn to give everything in your might to resist them. And luckily for the life of your travel companions, you were mostly able to succeed.

Regardless of these murderous tendencies coming with your affliction, you were still the kindest person Astarion had ever met. A contradiction in itself, and yet you were – well, you.

Lately, Astarion had caught himself just perceiving you. 

Taking in your soft expression as you were mindlessly humming a song to yourself, sitting barefoot by the river, hands elbow-deep in the cold water to wash your clothes, sticking this stupid little melody to his head for the rest of the day.

While resting at camp, he had watched you reading – one of your favourites, the lexicon of bird species in Faerûn – a terribly boring topic, but you seemed to indulge in the lengthy descriptions of a blue jay’s wingspan. You would fetch Astarion a caught smile between slowly turned pages, eyes half-closed, before eventually dozing off in the flickering light of the fire. He had barely been fast enough to catch the edges of your slipping book, saving it from landing in the dirt.

The other day, he noticed you carefully picking flowers from the road, acting like it was the most important task on your schedule. Later, you would sit in silence, brows furrowed in concentration and hands busy with knotting them into a beautiful headband. A gift for Karlach, since you had sensed that she hadn’t been too well on this particular day.

A sickeningly sweet gesture.

And yet, so typically you. Affectionate, always looking after your dearest companions.

He remembered the feeling of you casually squeezing his shoulder after an exhausting battle, the concerned look you would give him as you noticed that he had been injured, and how you insisted on treating his wounds with the utmost care, not leaving his side before you made sure his bleeding had entirely stopped.

There was the sensation of your fingers gently forming circles through his white curls, while he had buried his fangs deep inside your neck, greedily gulping down the blood you had been willingly offered to him. The quickening of your pulse, the little shivers your body would give away as he was feeding on you. 

Your thumb shyly placed against his brow, the tender movement as you traced his features. The sincerity in your voice as you described the outlines of his face to him, after he had shared with you that his lack of reflection had turned the image of his own appearance into a dark shape from his past. Profane vanity was all he had initially seeked from you that evening, listening to you calling him beautiful and stroking his ego, and yet there had been a certain intimacy resonating in that moment. You had described to him what the world would see when it looked at him – what you would see. 

Astarion groaned and pulled his blanket up to his chin, almost covering his bottom lip with the thin woollen fabric.

Gods, how you irritated him. 

How you had infested his mind with your nauseating goodness. 

When you first met, Astarion had decided that precisely this outstanding character trait of yours should be your undoing.

You offered an easy prey, he had thought to himself in a blissful glee, as he imagined all the ways in which he would bargain your trust. 

Luring and deceiving were practically moulded into him, therefore charming you appeared as easy as picking the lock on a broken chest. In order to survive under his former master Cazador, he had become an unwilling adept in these abilities. 

Astarion flinched as the memory of his ruthless tormentor reentered his mind. Cazador had turned him into a vampire spawn almost two centuries ago and made him his slave, forcing him to a life in complete darkness and made him use his body to bring more than thousands of victims to him.

In order to deceive you, Astarion had formed a rather simple plan: Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you would never turn on him – old habits that cemented over the past centuries had kicked in.

Therefore, it should have been easy with you. Instinctive. Following a pattern of studied behaviour, throwing his best lines at you until you would breathe his name between tousled sheets - leaving your body aching for him and trusting him unconditionally.  

All he had to do was follow this nice little plan of his, deepening the selfish bond he aimed to create between the two of you in order to secure his safety. To get you on his side. 

It should have been nothing more than an insurance. A simple transaction, so to speak: His honeyed words for your protection. Performing an act, yourself delightfully unaware of your leading role in this little play of his.

Well, and what else could it ever be? After all, manipulating others in order to get something out of them was the only way he had ever known. 

And yet: with you, things had somewhat felt entirely different.  

At least, his plan had evidently borne fruit by now: Not only were you voluntarily offering your blood to help him with his cravings after he had revealed his past of being a vampire spawn, you had also sworn to help him finding out the meaning of the scars on his back and dealing with Cazador when the time would come.

Still, instead of savouring his accomplishment he found himself distracted with his attempts to wrap his head around you. 

Sometimes he wanted nothing more than to peek inside this little skull of yours, picking your brain until he would satisfy his curiosity with you and determine the reason why you were lingering on his mind of late. 

He wanted to figure out what made him actually want to listen to the things you had to say, admire your wit when you would share a heartfelt laugh over one of your foolish jokes or why he would seek your company after a night spent in familiar solitude. And even worse: Why in the Hells he had caught himself enjoying how your face would light up after you had saved another unfortunate soul in need on your travels. 

Astarion sighed and pushed his fingers to his eyes, hoping that pressing them shut would free him from his vexing thoughts, as a sudden noise distracted him.

The pounding of hurried footsteps and jumbled voices rose outside his tent, growing louder and faster.

He let out another disgruntled sigh.

Gods, what would it be now?

Whoever was roaming around your camp this late at night, screaming like an animal, better had a rightful reason to do so.

His annoyance fell off immediately as he came to understand what the unfamiliar voices were yelling: Your name. Followed by pleas for help.

Before he even comprehended what exactly posed this sudden level of urgency, his feet had already dragged him outside in the dark, a cold breeze brushing against his skin.

“What is going on?” he heard his own voice meddling into the sudden tumult. 

Then he spotted you: Arms and legs hanging lifelessly, brought down on your bedding by one of the Harpers he remembered from the Last Light Inn. You were followed by a few other Harpers who positioned themselves around your tent - they were desperately shouting for a healer.

An icy grip twisted Astarion’s chest as he stormed forward to reach you, stomping through mud and dirt.

“Is she hurt?” His voice broke as he saw your face. You were lying on your blanket, eyes rolling behind closed lids, cheeks all flushed and a thin line of sweat forming on your brow. You looked utterly terrible: Weakened and sick, seemingly in a feverish delirium. 

Astarion had seen you wounded before, due to blood and gore being in the nature of your journey to free yourself from the tadpoles, but never like this: more dead than alive, not moving a single major muscle.

What in the Nine Hells had happened to you?

Astarion swallowed hard before he found his voice again and turned to the ones who had brought you in.

“What did you do to her?” he hissed, readying himself to grab the Harper next to him by the throat and shake him until his tongue would loosen. “Explain yourself, now!”

Before any of the men could open their agape mouths in response to Astarion’s daunting request, Shadowheart broke the heated atmosphere with a soft push to his shoulder and made way to kneel beside you. 

“Let me see her.” She spoke quickly as she felt for your pulse and started to spread her hands protectively over you, encompassing you in a blue radiance. She was already casting a healing spell.

“Your friend, she… she was fighting a shadow creature, and it must have poisoned her,” the Harper that had carried you pressed between quivering lips. “We already sent someone to call for Isobel. She will know what to do.” As he met Astarion’s furious glimpse, he hastily added “They – they should be here any minute.”

Poison? Astarion wrinkled his nose. Indeed, your blood smelled different – somewhat tainted. 

He focused his gaze back to you, suppressing the urge to slap that damned Harper straight across the face. 

Instead of acting out this violent thought, he sank to his knees next to Shadowheart and carefully laid one hand on your cheek. You were burning hot and letting out ragged breaths between your cracked lips.

“I can cast my spells, but I am not versed in the toxins of the Dark”, Shadowheart declared with the most tensed look on her face, her magic still hovering over your body. “We need Isobel – fast.”

Another twist in Astarion’s chest. He racked his brain for a solution, his hand still held helplessly against your cheek. You were in need of healing, desperately, and more adept than Shadowheart could provide. His senses began to blur.

Through the pulsing sound of blood rushing through his ears he could only gather a few scraps of the enfolding conversation between the Harpers and the rest of your companions that had hurried to your aid.

It was enough to paint a picture of what happened to you: During your night watch, you had noticed a Harper being dragged away in the shadows and went immediately to his aid. With a few quick blows, you had managed to kill the attacking creature and save the unfortunate man from his demise, but for its final act it stroked you with its claw, leaving a deep scratch on your right arm – the source of the suspected poison that would flow through your veins. 

Astarion bit the inside of his cheek, spilling blood. His mind was racing. 

Of course you had gotten yourself in danger over saving someone else again. 

In normal times, he would have loved to tease you for your foolish act of heroism and give you an “I told you so”, probably earning a defiant look from you while you would emphasise the importance of helping those in need. 

Hells, he desired nothing more than to listen to your moralising if it meant that he could just hear your voice right now. 

But instead of lecturing him on morality, you were still lying on your mattress, unmoving and probably on the verge of death, and he couldn’t think of a single way to rid you of this terrible state.

He felt numb. Useless. It made him sick.

A gut wrenching thought rushed over him. 

What if you would die right now – just like that? 

Before he could… Well, before he could do what exactly?

The image of your limp lifeless body with dead staring eyes entered his mind.

No. You didn’t deserve to die. You couldn’t die. Not like this. Not now, not ever, not from saving a goddamned Harper.

Then you whimpered. 

Silent, almost inaudible, but enough to set Astarion ablaze. 

The urge of punishing every single one who had dared to lead you to harm overcame him like a ruthless wave crashing shore. He wanted to cut open, to rip apart and to send everyone into eternal hell.

Fire took over his crimson eyes as he bared his fangs, the look of a predator on his pale face, ready to curse those wretched Harpers or worse, as another quiet sound spilled from your lips.

“As… Astar... ion…?”

He froze.

His name – spoken as gentle as a flicker of moonlight glistening through leaves. Not moaned in lust or used to denounce him in anger – just… him being called, in the most faintest way. 

He felt his eyes wet before he even knew it, his mouth opened for a split second only to his lips pressing it shut again, forcing himself to blink before a single tear could make its way down his cheek.

You sounded so fragile. So ... in need of him.

“Asta...rion?”

His chest twisted again.

He wanted to whisper words of comfort to you, chanting them over and over like a prayer, assuring you that everything would be alright.

“Don’t speak,” he managed to breathe in a cracked voice. “I’m here, my sweet.”

Your eyes were still closed and moving fast underneath your lids. You spoke in a fever, and he could sense that you were in pain. 

Astarion brushed a strand of hair off your sweaty brow, using just the tips of his slender fingers. A most careful touch, as if a hint of deeper force would break you. 

Then, there was no more sound coming from you.

“Hells, where is that goddamned cleric? If she doesn’t arrive here any second, I’m going to drag her over myself-” Astarion’s voice was nothing more than a helpless plea. He sounded way less threatening than he had wished for, almost spilling those tears he had to hold back, and seconds before bursting if there would be no aid for you right now.

“No need to shout, my friend. I’m right here.”

Isobel. Finally. 

A fire in his stomach again.

How dared she sound so calm, considering your condition?

With haste, Isobel knelt between him and Shadowheart and opened her pouch, revealing a set of different sized bottles. She began to examine you with concentration, lifting your eyelids to look at your pupils, checking your vitals and thoroughly inspecting the wound the monster had inflicted on you. 

Astarion gritted his teeth in anticipation, a thick lump forming in his throat. 

“Will she be alright?” he eventually demanded, his voice cracking like a violin out of tune, but Isobel ignored him and silently continued her treatment. 

“Astarion, I’m worried about her too, but I think we shouldn’t disturb Isobel right now,” Wyll interfered softly and squeezed his shoulder. 

Taken aback, Astarion pressed his lips together. Of course Wyll would be the voice of reason in a situation like this, but unfortunately he wasn’t wrong. Isobel was the most profound healer available, an expert on the shadow creatures - and unlike himself, she offered the possibility to save you.

“As I thought,” Isobel mumbled after a minute that had felt like eternity and opened one of her potions with a loud plop. “She will need this.”

She then put her thumb on your chin, carefully opening your mouth and pouring in a dark liquid, before she continued to clear your wound. 

Astarion eagerly watched her hands treating you with expertise, still not laying his gaze off you.

“I gave her a powerful antidote,” Isobel began to explain calmly as she spread a colourless balm on your torn flesh. “Such poison needs fast treatment. Fortunately, if dealt with in time, it can still be cured. I’m glad I was able to aid your dear friend before it made its way through her entire body. Otherwise… It most likely would have been fatal.”

Astarion’s muscles tightened and his stomach turned. You almost died tonight.

Isobel seemed to notice his tension, so she quickly added “With this antidote, she will be completely fine in the morning. Her fever might continue through the night, but I promise that there is no more reason for concern.”

“Are you completely sure of that, Isobel?” Shadowheart asked, seeking out reassurance that the treatment truly had succeeded.

“I swear by Selune, she is not at risk anymore. The antidote freed her from the poison and the balm will heal her wound,” the cleric responded confidently. “Her body will do the rest.” 

The tight, dark blanket that had wrapped around Astarion’s chest began to loosen up.  

“I… I’m glad that she’ll be alright,” was all he managed to vocalise as the adrenaline slowly faded from his body.

“Thank you, Isobel,” added Gale, who had been nervously walking up and down your tent as Isobel had tended to your condition. 

Even Shadowheart, a devoted follower of Lady Shar, spared a few words of gratitude towards the cleric following her sworn enemy’s beliefs.

A general sense of ease took over from the strained atmosphere that had prevailed just a moment ago.

“She needs rest and quiet now,” Isobel claimed and gave a telling look to your companions and the assembly of Harpers that gathered around your tent. 

An unspoken demand that it was time to give you some space now.

*

“I will stay with her,” Astarion announced to Shadowheart and the remaining group after Isobel and the Harpers had left for the Last Light Inn. There had been a quick discussion if you should have been brought with them, but eventually it was decided that you were more safe in your own bedroll than being dragged through the shadow infested lands again. 

“Are you sure, Astarion? I’d be more than glad to watch over her myself,” Shadowheart responded, not hiding her surprise over his proposition.

Even if Astarion wasn’t sure about anything in particular right now, he felt the pressing need to remain by your side until you would open your eyes again, ensuring that Isobel had spoken the truth and the threat had passed. 

“Well, I won’t be able to get some more rest tonight anyway, so I might as well just stay over here,” he attempted in a more indifferent manner. “Besides, her tent is by far the most comfortable one our excuse for a camp has to offer, and I’m looking forward to indulging in some peace and quiet after all of this night's terrible trouble.”

Karlach listened to his explanation in slight amusement and gave him a supporting nod. Liar, her smiling face said.

“Well, if you’re sure, and there are no objections… Then it’s fine with me, I suppose,” Shadowheart replied with a raised eyebrow. “But promise to shout for me if something’s the matter, will you?”

“Gods, would you please give me some credit here, you mother hen. I got this,” Astarion said and rolled his eyes. On the inside, he was still shaken up, and he could only hope that the slight pitch in his voice wouldn’t give him away. “So hush hush everyone, off you go now. Get in some  beauty sleep, as you all are evidently in need of it.”

“Chk!” Lae’zel interfered in the most angry whisper she could muster. “Leave Astarion to look after her for the night if he insists. I’m certain he knows the fate that will await him should she come to harm under his supervision.” Lae’zel’s very own way to express that she came to care about you.

“Charming as ever,” Astarion replied at this implicit threat, still holding no intention to move merely an inch from his spot next to your bedroll.

“You see, Shadowheart? There seems to be no need to worry about our dearest friend,” Gale added with a slight chuckle. “I suppose she’ll be in good hands for tonight.”

Shadowheart let out a grunt and readied herself to leave with the others, but not before she would lay one last gaze on you, ensuring that you had not gotten any worse over the last few minutes.

*

Astarion watched your chest rise and fall in a soothing rhythm.

What a mess this night had been.

From the moment the Harpers had brought you in it had been like a heavy weight violently crushing his chest over and over, turning him into an angry, scared wreck, and the pressure only began to wear off by now.

Realistically, he knew that you were safe and the danger had passed. But then, why was there such an uneasiness lingering on him?

He had been scared in his life before, probably more times than he could recall, and yet… The fear over losing you tonight had shifted something in him. 

You had called for him in your feverish delirium, as you were lying helpless and in pain. 

It was an image hard to shake off.

Astarion sighed, when he noticed that you were still in your armour. There was no way in Hell he would let you sleep in this reeking dirt-covered piece of cloth, so his dexterous fingers began to peel it off, piece by piece. Carefully not to wake you, he stored your armour aside, until you were lying in your undergarment. Then he took your blanket and wrapped it around you.

With another gentle motion, he let his finger stroke along your brow, brushing over the dampness of your skin. You were still feeling hot. 

His nose wrinkled as he pulled down his sleeve to cautiously wipe your sweat away. There was no need to get up to fetch some extra cloth, and he would be perfectly capable of cleaning his shirt the next morning.

For a while, Astarion would just watch over you, mustering your relaxed face and ensuring that your breathing continued steadily. You seemed to be in a calm sleep, still feverish, but evidently better looking than the moment you had been brought in.

The next morning came to his mind. Perhaps he might attempt to prepare your favourite food for you, a simple but apparently very delicious berry porridge. Not that he had any particular experience on the matter, since his culinary needs were restricted to blood these days, but if someone like Gale was able to cook it, he surely would be too. Maybe he would surprise you with the dog or the owlbear for some morning snuggling in bed, as you seemed to never spend a single day without indulging in some pets on your journey. Well, he probably should bring in both. Oh how delighted you would be, waking up to these furry little beasts, he thought with a grin. 

Then it hit him.

Shit.

His nice, simple plan with you had truly and utterly fallen apart.

What should have been nothing more than an insurance for his safety, a way to rid himself of the tadpole in his brain and offer him a powerful ally to face Cazador some day, had developed into something he never experienced before.

He genuinely cared about you - more than he thought himself to be capable of. You had become most precious to him, and he felt the urgent need to be honest with you. 

You were incredible, and you didn’t deserve to be lured into a selfish alliance.

You deserved something real. 

He wanted things between you to be something real - even if he didn’t know what real looked like. After all, charming and deceiving others was the only way he had ever known. Forming a sincere connection and being close with someone posed an entirely new and remarkably scary sensation. But maybe, with you…

Your faint voice brought him back from his thoughts. 

“Asta...rion?” 

His face softened, not as an act of will, more like a reflex.

You looked at him with half-open eyes, sounding still a little weak.

He bowed his head closer to you and spoke softly, letting his thumb brush gently over your cheek.

"There you are, my little fool. Getting ourselves in trouble over our constant need to do something heroic again, weren’t we?”

“Mh… Is that so?” you asked in a raspy voice, offering a weak smile through glistening eyes underlined with dark circles, your hair pressed damp to your skull. “And you saved me, I suppose?” 

Astarion’s heart grew tight with adoration. To him, you had never looked more beautiful.

“I’m afraid not, my dear. Actually, you have been poisoned by a shadow creature, so you were in need of a more adept healer. Isobel treated you.”

“Mhm.. How bad was it?”

He thought for a moment, the fear he had felt rushing over him for a split second and piercing his chest like ice. 

"Well, not as bad as it could have. I’ll spare you the details for tomorrow.”

“That’s… good.” You hummed, sounding drowsy and still a little feverish. Then, you gave a soft plea. “Astarion… Would you… stay with me tonight?”

There it was again, a pull at his heartstrings. 

Gods, you wicked little thing.

“Of course, my darling. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

A promise, unimaginable honest had it been another time, with another person, but this was now, and this was you.

He gave another gentle press to your hand, carefully intertwining your fingers with his, as if to underline his words.

"Thank you,” you whispered, eyes closed for a second before you let your gaze meet his again. Another quiet mumble. "Could you... hold me please?"

Astarion was overwhelmed by your vulnerability for a second. He wanted nothing more than to provide you comfort, to make you feel safe, but didn't know if he should give in. Even though you had often shared your bedroll these days, this somehow felt more open, more intimate.

Before he realised what he was doing, he swiftly lifted off your blanket to slip underneath and laid his arm around your waist, pulling you in close.

He could feel your hand on his chest. Your head gently resting on his shoulder, fingers loosely clutching around the end of his collar. Your warm body against his cold.

Astarion let his fingers gently caressing the small of your back.

You were breathing steady, already seeming to doze off again. A soothing calmness came over him.

“I hope… I didn’t worry you too much,” you mumbled, more asleep than awake.

Astarion bit his lip.

“Well…” he said and cleared his throat. “I managed.” A complete understatement of events, but this was also a confession for another day. “Rest now, my love.”

Astarion continued to gently stroke your back, his lips turning into an affectionate smile. He never thought his heart to be this full over the failure of such a simple plan.

Masterlist

[moonchild033]

Astro Observations -5💃

Here we go with part-5!!! My schedule is getting hectic, I managed some time to make this finally 😭😭❤💫

(These observations are based on the whole sign system, sidereal charts and all obs are subject to change with other aspects in the chart, so don't conclude anything with a single placement) ❤

1. Mercury in Capricorn/Aquarius or in Saturn ruled stars- Could've got late admissions in educational institutions or had academic gaps or breaks. This could also be true if Saturn is in Gemini/Virgo or in mercury ruled stars.😌

2. Jupiter in 10H esp in fire/air signs- They could have the tendency to change jobs frequently, mostly because their interests are diverse or they like the concept of exploring, taking a long time to settle down.😊

3. Having same ascendant in both D1 & D3- The person will be courageous, they could get benefits and significant help from siblings. Their source of motivation in life could come from their friendships, a close knit of circle who always motivates them to move forward.💫

4. Virgo mercury - Can be prone to losing money in share market, due to online frauds etc. These ppl should be careful with their money. You could even lose it carelessly, like forgetting the money purse somewhere. 🤧

5. Jupiter in 7H for Gemini ascendant - Even though Jupiter is in own house in this placement, it can give late marriage to the person if it's alone in 7H or doesn't receive any aspects from other benefic planets.😇

6. More planets in Leo house in D2- You will attain wealth by your own hardwork and independently. This placement can also make the person to start earning earlier than their peers or simply have more earnings regardless of what age they started going to a job.💃

7. More planets in Cancer house in D2- You will be blessed with extravagant lifestyle and wealth after marriage. Your partner will play a significant role in determining your wealth---you could either have a joint bank account with your partner OR after their arrival in your life, you could've experienced significant rise in your salary.🤩

8. Mars-moon conjunction in D4- The property you buy in your name could be located near water sources or you can be inclined to buy agricultural lands or at least buy a commercial plot with a countryside environment. If it's in a water sign, you would buy properties in your name near coastal cities.💙

9. Ashlesha/Jyeshta/Revati Moons- No matter how manipulative or cold they might appear due to moon in mercury star, they can fall in love easily. Even if they're slow, they're as obsessive, deep and consuming as Scorpio moons when in love. Some ppl might have had obsessive crushes or a long relationship for years during school days itself.💖

10. Mars-Sun conjunction in D4- House in your name could be placed near government owned buildings or in a colony where many government officials reside. You might construct a house in warmer places (by temperature in surrounding) than the ones you grew up in.🌡

11. Cancer Venus in a woman's chart- Female friends can get jealous of them, after wedding, even the female family members of the groom could do so. It's because of their perfect embodiment of feminine self, it can make other underdeveloped females insecure. Might not be the case for everyone, just observed this in few.💜

12. Placements and the type of house construction/aesthetics you may like & build:

(This doesn't mean you will end up building your house like this for sure, these placements should make aspects to the 4H/4H lord, 4H shouldn't be afflicted, favorable mahadasha should come and many more other aspects, so take the below ones as a fun read!)

Venus in Taurus/Libra/Pisces- Lots of interior designing & unique architecture. They want their house to be very aesthetically pleasing and appreciated by others. They have a eye for beauty.😍

Rahu in 4H- House constructed in an extravagant manner, has many rooms🤭

Mercury-saturn conjunction - Likes building staircase inside the house and basements having those spiral steps like in the horror films lol.🤫

Aries Sun - Grand entrance, the main gate or the house door will be big both in terms of height and width. They could like adding glass elements that reflect light on top of house door or any architecture near that.💅

Jupiter-Saturn conjunction - Loves unique and high class wooden sculptures and furnitures. These could be the people who would import specific type of wood to make their study table hehe.💪

Taurus/Cancer Moon- Water flowing architecture inside the house. You may also be fond of having fish tanks. This placement along with taurus or libra venus can give (for ex.) unique statues and water flowing from it or glass floors and fish maintenance below it.🤪

Leo Moons- Most probably likes having their own swimming pool in their house, especially purva phalguni moons.😻

Mars-moon conjunction - Loves doing indoor gardening. Rahu in the mix can give technological advancements in this, like having hydroponics system or any specialized type of gardening.🌱

Venus-rahu conjunction - Prefers different colored lighting settings, can even have home theatre setups. They like aesthetic light works with multiple colors and all shiny at least in one room for recreation.✨

Venus-Mars conjunction - Highlights strong security systems. They could appoint a watchman or have CCTV cameras surrounding their house. Mars in rahu's star having this conjunction, they might have advanced touch or face recognition type of security systems.😼

Let's Learn and Grow Together!💋💅

With Love-Yashi ❤⚡

Masterlist 💖

[ddarker-dreams]

Do you think Blade is the type to get jealous really easily? I think he is but like, to what extent do you think he’ll show how jealous he is?

blade is possessive to a near maddening extent.

however, he's familiar with warding madness off, no matter how enticingly it beseeches him. owing to this, he misinterpreted his writhing jealousy for mara. a bemused kafka refuted this conclusion. true, his mara adds fuel to the fire, but it's not what lit the match. this revelation leaves him at a loss. he finds it frustrating how his waning control weakens even more in your presence. it's agonizing.

he considers himself the most wretched creature in the universe when jealous — disembowelment would be preferable. at least that pain can be treated. you, though, you're a chronic affliction. his torment made manifest. it'd be so much simpler if he could conquer the fear of you hating him. he could butcher everyone who hoarded your attention, maroon you on a planet only he knew the coordinates to. he could, but he won't, because your smile makes death itself undesirable.

he's stuck at an impasse. and at this impasse, he broods.

consequently, you misinterpret the bone-chilling glares sent in your direction. it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand. you don't recall doing anything that'd upset the stellaron hunter, so why is he staring at you like he finds your very existence offensive? maybe he does, in the moment. especially if you're interacting with someone who makes you happy. he can't give that to you. he'd siphon away your warmth, bit by bit.

his jealousy centers around his shortcomings. when you bloom around others, he's reminded that he's poisoned soil. and even then, he wants you. he's always on the verge of plucking you from where you belong to satiate his greed. his gloved hand nears you, ready to do just that, the point of no return—

—then your ever-fickle focus lands on him. the very instant you wave and call out to him, you unknowingly save yourself.

... for a while longer.

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - September 8-14

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my new(ly repurposed) Patreon!

1. Pair of rare Amur tiger cubs debuting at Minnesota Zoo are raising hopes for the endangered species

“[The Minnesota Zoo’s] Amur tigers have produced 57 cubs, [… 21 of which] have gone on to produce litters of their own, amounting to another 86 cubs. […] “They’re showing a lot of resiliency, which is something that we work hard for in human care. We want these animals to have a lot of confidence and be able to adapt to new environments just as they’re doing today.””

2. Powered by renewable energy, microbes turn CO₂ into protein and vitamins

“The team designed a two-stage bioreactor system that produces yeast rich in protein and vitamin B9. [… The protein] levels in their yeast exceed those of beef, pork, fish, and lentils. […] Running on clean energy and CO2, the system reduces carbon emissions in food production. It uncouples land use from farming, freeing up space for conservation[… and] will help farmers concentrate on producing vegetables and crops sustainably.”

3. JCPenney Launches Apparel Collection Aimed At Wheelchair Users

“A major department store is rolling out a new line of clothing specifically tailored to meet the needs of women who use wheelchairs featuring options for both everyday wear and special occasions. [… The clothing have] modifications like zippers located for easy access, pocket positioning and extended back rises optimized for the seated position and shorter sleeves to limit interference with wheels.”

4. Snails bred in Edinburgh Zoo sent to re-populate species in French Polynesia

“Thousands of rare partula snails bred at Edinburgh Zoo are to be released in French Polynesia to restore the wild population of the species.The last surviving few of the species were rescued in the early 1990s[….] 15 species and sub-species [are being bred in zoos for repopulation], the majority of which are classed as extinct in the wild.”

5. [NH Joins 19 Other States] to Provide Essential Behavioral Health Services Through Mobile Crisis Intervention Teams

“[CMS] approved New Hampshire’s Medicaid State Plan Amendment for community-based mobile crisis intervention teams to provide services for people experiencing a mental health or substance use disorder crisis. […] The multidisciplinary team provides screening and assessment; stabilization and de-escalation; and coordination with and referrals to health, social, and other services, as needed.”

6. Recovery plan for Missouri population of eastern hellbender

“It is expected that recovery efforts for the Missouri DPS of the eastern hellbender will reduce sedimentation and improve water quality in the aforementioned watersheds, which will also improve drinking water, as well as benefit multiple federally listed mussels, sport fish and other aquatic species.”

7. How $7.3B will help rural co-ops build clean power—and close coal plants

“[The funds are] serving about 5 million households across 23 states [… to] build wind and solar power, which is now cheaper than coal-fired power across most of the country. […] Some of it will be used to pay down the cost of closing coal plants[….] federal funding could help co-ops secure enough wind, solar, and battery resources to retire their entire coal capacity by 2032, cutting carbon emissions by 80 to 90 percent and reducing wholesale electricity costs by 10 to 20 percent[….]”

8. Native-led suicide prevention program focuses on building community strengths

“[Indigenous researchers have] designed programs that aim to build up a community’s endemic strengths, rather than solely treating the risks facing individuals within that community. By providing support and resources that enable access to Alaska Native cultural activities, they hope to strengthen social bonds that build resilience. […] “In a Yup’ik worldview, suicide is not a mental health disorder, and it’s not an individual affliction, it’s a disruption of the collective.””

9. Another rare Javan rhino calf spotted at Indonesia park

“A new Javan rhino calf has been spotted in an Indonesian national park, the facility's head said Friday, further boosting hopes for one of the world's most endangered mammals after two other […] calves were spotted earlier this year at the park, which is the only habitat left for the critically endangered animal.”

10. Transparent solar cells can directly supply energy from glass surfaces

“[Researchers have] unveiled a method of supplying energy directly from glass of buildings, cars, and mobile devices through transparent solar cells. […] It has also succeeded in charging a smartphone using natural sunlight. It also proved the possibility that a screen of a small mobile device can be used as an energy source.”

September 1-7 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)