#aid each other in their healing journey!!!!!

[kits-ships]

i didnt realize it at first but the fact that leon and lunette both faced abuse from an authority/parental figure(s) kills me

[livmightlive]

Lu Boys Death Lineup

I was feeling a little edgy, a little angsty (perchance). I wanna say, this is based a little bit on canon and a lot a bit on vibes. Maybe this can be my (low effort 😔) febuwhump. Anyways, in order from first to last here it is.

Four - Four is in his mid-twenties when he gets called to help investigate with the resurgence of dark magic in the palace of the four swords. He goes in not expecting much, he’s used to being called to help aid in small things, like monster uprisings or in this case something to do with dark magic. He doesn’t expect things to go so wrong. It’s dark magic alright, but so much of it that it’ll overcome the land immediately if something isn’t done. Ganon is trying to return and Four is the only person in the way. So, he gives everything to seal it away. This effort fractures Four again, but not in the way it did before. This time the colors don’t reunite with each other but instead Four’s physical body is vaporized and his soul tears in to four pieces, each absorbing all the leftover darkness that Four couldn’t stop. Dot has no choice but to seal the palace completely.

Hyrule - When the chain’s journey ends, Hyrule doesn’t return home to a peaceful era. His journey continues and despite his and both princesses’ efforts things start to get worse. The cult has grown in an huge way and Hyrule soon knows no peace, constantly traveling to avoid them. They’re grasping at straws and with each year that passes since Ganon’s death they get more agitated. By his late twenties he’s more than exhausted. Hyrule no longer knows rest. He can’t return to the castle or any town, not even, especially not even, the ones that had been kind to him. The cult would find him. They burn would burn down buildings, cut down people, and even trample crops just to get to him. Unrelated to Hyrule, they destroy new growth forests and scar any attempts by the earth to heal. This has to stop. He goes to the cult and finds Ganon’s ashes himself. He makes sure that there isn’t anything left this time. The fire he creates, his last spell, burns for years.

Twilight - Twilight’s body is never found. Everyone who had known him had been greatly concerned for him for a few years now. It seems that he had been slowly going mad ever since he had turned 30. He had grown more and more restless, walking circles in his house until the carpet wore down. He withdraws for weeks, emerging with untrimmed hair and wild eyes. He holds a great sorrow at all times that cannot be quelled. He starts disappearing into the woods for weeks at a time. One day it all stops and it seems that he’s calmed down. His mind has returned to him. He begins tending to the ranch again, he smiles more, laughs more. But… There's an everlasting air about him that just feels like he’s waiting for something. A great storm descends on Ordon one day. It brings some destruction with it. Floods wash away buildings built too close to rivers and trees fall from loose soil. In its wake, it’s as if the world was shining silver. Twilight is nowhere to be found.

Wild - Wild is almost 40 when he leaves his and Flora’s shared home to go on a little expedition. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for this time but he craves fresh air and adventure. He’s on a well worn path, just leaving from a stable when he drops as if he were a puppet with all of its strings cut loose. And that’s it for him. Of course other travelers and stable hands try to check up on him, but he’s gone. There’s not a lick of life left in him. Purah runs a series of autopsies and can’t find anything wrong. He was in perfect health when he left and the people interviewed at the stables claim he was acting normal, or as normal as Wild can act. Purah decides that he must’ve thrown a blood clot or something, he probably had a left over brain injury from Hylia knows what, but both she and Flora know that’s a lie. They wonder if the shrine of resurrection only had so much to give Wild. They wonder if they have timers too.

Time - Time is almost 50 when he returns to battle. There’s a returning darkness that must be quelled. He prays that this won’t turn into another failure of his, that the mistakes he makes now won’t hurt his successors anymore than he’s already hurt them. His ocarina stays home; it’s buried deep under a floorboard beneath his and Malon’s bed. He takes some peace of mind from that. His fight takes him back to the lost woods where he never returns from. It’s decades later and Malon is old. Her hair has long been grey and she has grandchildren to keep her company. How she wishes Time could’ve met them… She’s called to the castle one day and asked if she recognizes skeletal remains of a Hylian body that was found downstream from the lost woods. She does. She prays that with a proper funeral her love might find rest, but she knows that he won’t.

Warriors - When Wars returns to his era, his work doesn’t end. He finds himself training the next generation of warriors and then the one after that. Wars never stops working as there is always work. There is always something he can do to make his home safer, to keep his people happier, to make them stronger. He’s still working by the time he’s halfway through his 70s. His friends and family beg him to retire, even Zelda has passed the throne down to her heir, but there’s still more to be done. He takes lunch one day in castle town and goes to his favorite pub. Despite the castle nurses banning him from eating overly rich food and beer until he has a less stressful lifestyle (it’s way too hard on his heart), Wars still likes to sneak a treat every now and then. What’s it gonna do? Kill him? He never finishes his last pint. 

Wind - Wind dies by complete accident. It happens when he’s in his 80s. He’s chatting with his mates while cleaning one of his old swords. He hasn’t had to use one in decades but he likes to keep them in good shape just in case he has to. Somebody tells a HILARIOUS joke. Wind doubles over in laughter, but as he does so he impales himself straight through. As he’s rushed to the newly opened hospital, Wind can’t help but continue to laugh. Oh boy is this stupid. He tells the nurses not to tell Tetra. She’d never let him hear the end of this. One of them starts weeping. Through tears she tells Wind that he won’t survive this. When they remove the sword he will bleed out unless he drowns in his own blood first. He cringes and tells them to DEFINITELY not tell Tetra. He’s a little annoyed when she and their closest friends and family come rushing in. She berates him. In between curses he can tell that she’s crying. He spends his last hours cracking jokes and sharing stories and gossip with those closest to him. When he starts struggling to stay conscious, they all bid goodbye and Tetra pulls out the sword. A year later, to her embarrassment, Tetra dies the exact same way.

Sky - Sky passes away peacefully in his sleep a week after his 100th birthday party and he KNEW it was coming. Sky knew for months. It started as small comments like at breakfast where he’d be like “Hylia willing I will see the solstice celebrations next week…” and his grandkids, and great grandkids, would be like “Grandpappy don’t say such things!” And he’d relent but it escalates to him asking his family members and friends which of his possessions they liked most. If they fall into his trap and answer, Sky tells them to write their name on it so they can have it after he passes. Nobody does this to his disgruntlement. Eventually they stop believing him because it gets to the point where every other dinner Sky mentions that his time to join Hylia draws near. Just in case they make his birthday a grand event. Somehow everyone, but Sun, is still a little surprised when he goes. She’s like *shrug* “he did mention it”. Like lovebirds, Sun follows him shortly after.

Legend - Nobody in the royal family knows how Legend is still alive. Some say it’s his great spirit, others claim that it must be courage, and those that know him best claim that it's sheer spite. If they were to actually ask Legend himself he’d spit. “The bitch goddess won’t let me.” He makes his opinion of his long lasting life obvious. No longer is Legend asked to attend prayer services or holidays in celebrations of Hylia. Not after the last dozen… incidents. Legend stopped counting how old he was after the passing of his dear sister and dear rabbit. The nurses who do frequent checkups on him mention that he is 121 years old. He rolls his eyes. Legend wants to go and he brings this up frequently, usually over dinner. He has great great great grand nieces and nephews now. He cares little to meet the next coming generation. Still, despite his fits of anger and general grumpiness, he is well loved. He lives in the castle now, not trusted to take care of himself. The kids love him best. “Grunkie Link tells the best stories <3.” He always makes sure to press treats or old rings into their hands when they pass. It’s a stormy night when the castle is thrown into pandemonium. Legend has gone missing from his chambers. Honestly, how hard could it be to find a wheelchair bound 121 year old man? They find him outside, screaming at the heavens. “Take me you HAG!” Screaming turns to pleading. “I want to see them again.” Before anybody can get close, lightning strikes from the sky and smites the hero. Nothing is left behind but ashes.

pls lmk what you think! Feel free to argue if you have a different idea <3

[brightsuzaku]

this isn't even that shot of your flight over the plains, to see everything the amalj'aa treasure and would have lost

The sweeping plains of Paglth'an have been home to the nomadic Amalj'aa for a long time. The vast grassland, adjacent to Thanalan, are for herding swaths of livestock and keep the nomads constantly on the move.

[fanaticsnail]

As far as I know, you're not a big Zoro girlie, but imagine, if you will:

Relaxing with Zoro in his hammock. You're both facing each other, legs tangled together as you're both occupied with your own little activities. It's quiet and peaceful;relaxing, even.

Breaking the silence and asking him a question, only to look up and see your favorite moss-head fast asleep. Allowing yourself to relax and drif off yourself, book still resting on your chest.

Not waking up until late in the evening, when Sanji's yell of "Dinner!" sends you both tumbling out of the hammock and into a heap on the floor.

-♡♡

Hey Anon. Your ask ran away with me and I had to see how some softness would play out. While Zoro is not one of my main blorbos, I do appreciate this marimo. Had to give him some appreciation with a drabble for you.

I Don't Sound Like That

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,400+

Synopsis: You and Zoro have grown closer over the past few weeks. Being invited to rest and study beside him in his hammock, you reflect on your journey travelling with your crew aboard the Going Merry.

Themes: Zoro x gn!reader, Fluff, teasing, tiredness, mention of injury (Zoro), kisses.

Notes: Had this request sitting in my asks for a day, and I needed this bad enough that it pushed my other thoughts aside.

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @indydonuts @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @i-am-vita

Lounging lazily within the hammock and entangled within a burly mess of limbs, your bodies rocked to the sway of the waves crashing against the hull of the Going Merry. The gentle rise and fall of the swell surrounding your vessel shepherding into your next adventure had you soothed from your restless day. Flipping through the pages in your book, you sigh softly and enjoy the warmth from Zoro’s encumbering embrace as he rested in his hammock beneath you. 

The reason you sought out the First-Mate to your Captain, Luffy, was not only because you felt protected under his care above Usopp, Nami, Luffy or Sanji, nor was it due to the fact that he wouldn’t likely tell you “no,” should you ask to enjoy an embrace with him. 

The reason you fell into his hammock and joined yourself in his resting space is because you had grown closer over these past few weeks. He was still healing from the large gash and soft stab in his chest from the legendary warlord, Dracule Mihawk. Fighting the Arlong-Pirates while in such a state did a number on his body, and he would constantly fall by your side and sleep within your shadow. 

He was comfortable with you enough to let you know how truly much he was struggling with his injuries. You were ships counselor, it was your job to be privy to the thoughts of your captain and crew - aiding them in their journey of reflective self-discovery. Luffy needed guidance as your captain, and as his counselor; you were ready and willing to provide that to him. 

While Zoro confided in you that his injuries truly ached, you offered to be by his side in his hammock to give him some pressure and warmth from your body to his. It was in the 'name of healing', you informed him, 'no funny business'.

As the ship waded through a particularly large swell, the hammock shook you from your thoughts and had you look up to notice Zoro had risen from his soft slumber. He was looking at your face through furrowed brows, attempting to get a read on your thoughts with an elevated brow. 

“Something on your mind, Counsellor?” he smirked, the corner of his lips ticking up as he looked down at you on your position on his chest. You anchor your chin over his heart, watching as he winces under your face. Noticing his soft wince, you mutter out a soft “sorry,” and readjust your position to not hit any of his injuries. 

Gazing up into his eyes, you look at him through narrowed eyelids and fluttering lashes. 

“Just thinking about how we all got here, is all, Swordsman,” you murmur in response. Zoro’s hazelnut eyes stare down at you, his expression softening as he witnesses your soft confession. He gently reaches his hand down and takes your cheek in the palm of his hand. Running his thumb over the apple of your cheek, his expression softens further. 

“Oh?” he murmured with a soft swell at the end of his question, “Regretting joining us already, hm?”

"Not at all," you laugh through your nose, rolling your eyes at his teasing tone. “You regret begging me to come with you at Syrup-Village?” He huffed a small shocked laugh at your tone, shaking his head slightly at your question.

“Begging?” he scoffed in return, drawing you closer to his face by your chin and jaw, “The way I remember it,” he moved his hand to the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair and smiling softly, “You were the one who said ‘Oh, big, burly swordsman. I need you so badly. Take me in your strong arms and usher me into a life of adventure at sea’.” You scoffed, hitting him on the chest playfully and earning a soft grunt in response to the small smack. 

“I don’t sound like that, and I never said those things,” you scrunch your nose up at him, “You were the one that said: ‘Luffy. You need guidance, and I’m not smart enough to give you the help you desperately need. We need someone way smarter than I could ever dream of being,” that comment had a small chuckle rise in his throat.

You continued to deepen your voice, openly mocking him with joy, “We need to get you a counsellor, and someone I can bare my soul to when I keep watch alone at night. The sea gets so lonely, and I need someone in my arms at all times. I am a sucker for comfort, and I need to cradle something into my stocky, broad chest after I get lost- mmfhph!” 

Zoro cut you off by joining his lips against yours. His lips were chapped and tasted of salt from the sea, and slightly sweet from the hard sake he drank earlier. Your eyes were wide and staring at his fluttering eyelashes. His brow was furrowed in deep concentration as he breathed in a sharp inhale through his nose, his lips parting to deepen the soft oscillation. He groaned at the feeling of you opening yourself up to him, enjoying the soft kiss he was pressing against you.

This was not something you had anticipated on receiving from the swordsman, particularly because you were yet to formally begin anything together. You shared embraces, sure. The odd sparring session, certainly. Using your body to sit on his back while he did pushups, or sit on his feet to hold them steady while he curled his stomach in a flurry of sit-ups, absolutely. But kisses? Not something you expected. 

After breaking the soft kiss, he cradled your chin in his hand and thumbed over your bottom lip affectionately, uttering a simple, “You talk too much,” before scolding you, touching his forehead to yours, “And I don’t sound like that.” 

You shook your head at him, placing your book face down and open on his chest beneath you, rubbing the tip of your nose against his affectionately. 

“That may be true,” you utter softly, “But you don’t deny you said half of those things I said.” He chuckled, removing his forehead from yours and giving it a soft shake. You laughed alongside him, scrunching your nose and looking at the mossy-haired swordsman cradling you in his arms with soft adoration. A flutter ignited in your chest as he pressed a soft kiss against your temple. 

“Get back to your reading, Counsellor,” he murmured, giving you a soft nudge and rolling you off his chest and onto your back beside him. He laced his arm over your side, handing you back your book that was once on his chest, nuzzling into your neck and pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder. “Let me know if you read something interesting enough to bother me with it.” 

Your mind was racing, knowing that he desired to leave the soft kiss at just that for now -  not desiring to dive into a flurry of: ‘what does that mean, what does that make us, how are we going to go about everything as if we didn’t just share a kiss’. You gulped back your racing thoughts and reopened your world discovery novel, choosing to ignore the tingle of his breath igniting your skin with gooseflesh. 

You do as you’re told, enjoying the warmth he was giving to you behind your body within the hammock. As you read further, you found something interesting regarding the metal and make of sword wielders in a distant land on the other side of the world. You turn in his arms, attempting to look at him over your shoulder as you ask him your question.

“Zoro?” you whisper softly, “Zoro, do you know anything about a country called ‘Wano’?” You turn to face him in his arms, noticing the heavy rise and fall of his broad chest before anything else. You gaze up into his face, his brow relaxed and his eyes clamped shut enough to indicate heavy sleep. 

Taking a moment to study his face, you allow yourself the luxury of giving in to the warmth in your face and simmered fluttering in your chest. These past few weeks of getting to know him further, and the soft kiss he placed against your lips and shoulder moments ago, had your mind running away with you. Taking a moment to appreciate his proximity, you realize there was truly nothing that could tear you away from this moment. 

Closing your book shut, you enjoy nuzzling into his chest and you press a soft kiss against the indent of Mihawk’s stab-wound over the swordsman’s heart. Eyes fluttering shut, you are ushered into a soft and blissful slumber within the cage of his body holding yours firmly against it. It does not take long until your breathing synchronizes, your dreams of what's to come on this next adventure a distant thought…

…Until the loud alert of your blonde chef wakes you from your slumber, his voice yelling a booming, “Dinner, moss-head! Get your idiot-ass down here and eat! Also, has anyone seen the Counsellor?” 

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Decision (Sauron x fem!Elf!reader)

-> in which you find out why Halbrand has been distant despite the intimacy you shared in Númenor, and now it’s your turn to decide whether or not to follow him on the path ahead

Warning: angst, implied smut, reader isn’t plain evil but she’s not saying no to touching Sauron the darkness either

Note: sequel to Choice but what happens there is explained here too

If you still had doubts before, now you’re absolutely certain. Halbrand has been avoiding you on purpose ever since you’ve reached Eregion and his lance wound has been healed.

Your pride would like you to pretend that it doesn’t hurt, but you cannot deny the pang in your chest each time you catch his eye only for him to look away. Or when, on the rare occasion that you do speak these days, he finds a way to cut the conversation short. But what hurts the most is that you are unable to discern the reason why.

Sometimes, you remember the night of passion you had shared in Númenor, trying to recall if there had been any misinterpretation on your part. You had met him in the smithy after he had refused Galadriel’s request to follow you to Middle-Earth and claim the title she believed was his as king of the Southlanders. You had told him his past deeds were of no consequence to you, that you believed he was worthy of leading regardless of whether or not it was his birthright. He had asked you, repeatedly, whether you were certain you could disregard his past as he had made his desire for you known.

And you had returned it. You’d had your fill of one another right there, on a table, utterly unable to restrain yourselves until you might have reached a more appropriate place for such activities. To say it was pleasurable would be an understatement. What Halbrand lacked in familiarity of your body, he made up in enthusiasm for discovering it, and becoming acquainted with his had been equally delightful for you. There had been no grand declaration of love, no spoken promises—but there had been unmistakable sentiment shared between you, during the deed as well as after. You had gently aided one another in redressing yourselves, and parted with a lingering kiss and a cheeky grin from him whose memory still makes your heart flutter.

The following morning, you had sailed for Middle-Earth. Whether because of you or not, Halbrand had decided to make the journey after all, and that was all that mattered. And while your accommodations on the ship hardly allowed for privacy, you sought each other out more often than before, and spoke more freely. Although you shared few kisses, only in brief moments when you were away from prying eyes, and his past still remained much of a mystery to you, you figured it was simply not the right time or place for anything further.

The battlefield in the Southlands was even less ideal. The chaos unfolded quickly, a great eruption separated you, and you were only reunited with Halbrand at the survivors’ camp, where you’d found him wounded half to death by an enemy lance.

You had kissed him, then—when you were left alone in his tent, awaiting Galadriel to bring the horses that would take the three of you to Eregion, where his wound may be mended. You had found yourself pressing your lips to his with a different kind of urgency than before, struck by such powerful relief tears slipped from your eyes and fell onto his cheek as you pulled away.

“I thought you were dead,” you had whispered in anguish.

“I’ve been worse,” he had quipped, as if it were some kind of game. But this time, you had no witty comeback in return.

“No, Halbrand, I...” you’d said gravely, caressing his sweat-slicked cheek. “I realized, if that were the case... there were things I should have said to you—”

“Please,” he’d cut you off then, gently but decidedly pulling your hand away from his face. “Not yet.”

You had frowned, more than a little hurt by his dismissal, but didn’t insist. He was in a great deal of pain, and too exhausted to handle such a heavy conversation. You could understand that.

But once his wound had been healed, he only seemed less inclined to speak with you. In Eregion, there had been many occasions when he might have sought you out, visited your chamber. You could have, of course, visited his, but the few and brief interactions between you didn’t exactly encourage you to do so. He had begun to work with Celebrimbor, and whatever little time remained after their long hours together, he hardly ever chose to spend with you. You could tell he was in his element by Celebrimbor’s side, his eyes brightening beautifully with each new idea and small progress, yet a shadow passed over them when they met yours from across the forge room.

A week passed like this, then two—and you were beginning to question whether the thread of fate you’d once felt connecting you to him had been only a figment of your imagination after all.

It hurts. You do your best not to feel it. You know the few matches attempted between Elves and humans ended in loss and tragedy, but not from lack of care on the part of the lovers. If that is what you and Halbrand ever were.

Perhaps it is your pride that prevents you from confronting him yourself, or from revealing what is ailing you to anyone at all. On the few times Galadriel has attempted to broach the subject, you had insisted that there was nothing to discuss. Though with a look that told you she knew better, she had left you in peace. So, when a knock comes at the door of your chamber one late evening, you suspect it is her on the other side.

With a sigh, you go to greet her, but begin to speak even before the door is fully opened.

“Galadriel, I am quite tired—”

The words die in your throat—for it isn’t Galadriel at your door. It’s Halbrand.

“Might we speak?” he asks. As if it were perfectly natural. As if he has every right to be here. The first few days in Eregion, you would have been more than glad to receive him, had stared at door in anticipation of his visit, even. Now, your heart twists in your chest with rage, even as it aches at the sight of him.

“You avoid me like the plague for days on end,” you say harshly, “and now you wish to be allowed into my personal chamber at this late hour?”

He crosses his arms, nowhere near as repentant as he should be looking. In fact, a light smirk tugs at his mouth. “Surely my boldness does not come as a surprise to you.”

“Your boldness? No,” you retort. “Your lack of honor, however—that is both surprising and irritating. Not to mention disappointing. Should I continue?”

He sighs then, and uncrosses his arms to lean one hand against the doorframe, finally having the decency to look somewhat awkward as he surmises, “You are cross with me.”

“Do I not have cause to be?” You glance down the corridor to find it empty, but still lower your voice. “You bedded me—”

“It was a table, as I recall—”

“And now you mock me.”

You go to slam the door in his face.

“That was not my—” He hastily grabs the door, holding it open. “All right,” he relents, raising a hand in surrender. “All right. Forgive me.” This time, he is perfectly serious. You contemplate locking him out either way, but in the end resolve to make that decision based on what next comes out of his mouth. “I bedded you,” he admits, taking care to lower his voice as well, “then allowed acts of affection to pass between us, such as those between lovers. Yet my intentions went undeclared, and of late I have acted as though none of that ever happened. Indeed, I have not behaved as a... man of honor should. For that, I apologize. Truly.”

His gaze never leaves yours as he says it. There is no teasing lilt to his voice, no trace of playfulness or misdirection. If you are being honest with yourself, you believe him.

There is a part of you that still wants to give him a taste of his own medicine, turn him away at the moment he most wishes to be able to speak with you. But that would mean denying yourself the answers as well. So, with a sigh, you step out of the way in silent invitation. He gives you a slight, grateful smile as he takes it.

“I know what you did, Halbrand,” you say, shutting the door behind him once he is inside your chamber. “What I wish to know is why.”

“And I did wish to tell you,” he reassures you. “Only...”

It’s you who crosses your arms now, looking at him expectantly.

“It was for your sake that I have refrained from any further... closeness between us,” he goes on, somewhat hesitant. “I felt it would be unfair to receive your sincere confession when I was yet unable to make mine.”

“And why were you unable, pray tell?” you ask, skeptical. “Why is it now that you seek me out?”

When he next speaks, his voice is laced with frustration, as though it is only now seeping through after simmering for too long within him.

“Because with each glance cast my way, you have stripped me of the patience to deny us both of what we desire any longer, despite my reasons for doing so.” He steps closer to you, looking into your eyes intently. “You see, before I asked even more of you than what you had already granted me, I meant to prove myself to you. To show you, beyond doubt, that the purpose of my craft is not one of destruction, but of healing.”

“Speak plainly, Halbrand,” you urge impatiently. You cannot fathom where this train of thought leads. He takes a breath as though to make a grand confession, but what he says is, vexingly, nothing you haven’t heard before.

“I am not a king—”

“I told you, I don’t care—”

“...or a mortal,” he finishes.

That does work to silence you. Your brow knits, silently questioning what in the world he means by that. A grimness lurks in his eyes as he speaks, each word measured and heavy.

“I have been awake since before the breaking of the first silence. In that time, I’ve had many names.” After a pause, he adds with finality, “I am the one you call Sauron.”

You search his face for any sign that he is jesting. Lying. There is none. The silence stretches as his words sink in, and you finally understand what is happening.

Then, you do the only thing there is to do in such a predicament.

You laugh. Hand covering your mouth, belly shaking, you laugh in the face of Halbrand’s furrowed brow at your reaction.

“Oh, that is... pathetic. Truly,” you say as your mirthless laughter dies down, leaving behind nothing but the burning indignation in your chest. “I might have thought you brazen or uncouth, at times, but I never once took you for a coward, Halbrand. If all you wanted was a quick tumble in the sheets—or, to be accurate as you prefer, on a table—and nothing more, you can simply say you wish for me to leave you alone, instead of conjuring such a ridiculous excuse—”

He’s gone. Everything is gone—as if between blinks, you are no longer standing in your chamber, but in a different room altogether. Your mind is slow to catch up as panic grips you, eyes darting around your new surroundings. It’s a place you know well, one that has been at the forefront of your mind of late.

You are standing in the smithy in Númenor.

“I am no slave to such base urges,” Halbrand says, and you whip around, startled to find that he is suddenly beside you, drinking you in with his gaze in the very same hungered manner he had done the last time you were here. “If I feel desire, carnal or otherwise, it is because the object of it has truly, undeniably captivated me. So do not insult the intimacy we shared in this place by assuming it held no greater meaning.”

“End this,” you breathe out, too shaken to process his words. “End this, now!” you cry out.

He clenches his jaw, displeased—but in the next heartbeat, you are back in your chamber.

Your hand flies to your heaving chest as if that would tame your rampant heart. It’s as though you never left, and in truth, you suppose you didn’t. Halbrand is still standing before you.

But he is not Halbrand anymore. He never was.

“You...” you say, voice trembling as you stagger back until you bump into your writing table. The swirl of emotions within you is too great for you to even know where to begin. Your face twists in rage, even as your heart crumbles in pain. “You lied to me—”

“Lied to you? Not once,” Halbrand says in earnest, coming towards you with slow, careful steps. “I called myself a new name, that much is true, but I have had so many, given by others—why should one I give myself be of any less value?” You shake your head, open your mouth, but no words come out. You are glued on the spot, leaning back against the table for support as he stops at a reasonable distance, close enough to touch if you reach out but far enough that he is not crowding you.

“I told you I had done evil,” he goes on. “I asked you, over and over, whether you would have me regardless of the past, whatever that may be...” He brings a hand to his heart as he steps ever so slightly closer. “...and you accepted me as I was. As I am.”

He wears a soft smile as he says it, as if in awe that such a thing was true. And in truth... it is. You remember exactly what you had thought at the time. You knew he had suffered through a war, that the ‘evil’ of which he spoke must have meant some kind of death or betrayal. But over the years, through all the battles and the horrors you had endured yourself, those sins were part of your past as well. You wanted to believe they could be forgiven, that they had not been for nothing—and so you had forgiven his.

But you’d never imagined... You’d never suspected...

“Why me, then?” you ask quietly. In the end, those are the only words you find within yourself.

“Galadriel only asked me to fight at her side because she convinced herself I was the true king of the Southlands. But you...” Halbrand says, and you can tell when he means to reach out and touch you, but restrains himself. “You encouraged me to fulfill that role not because you believed it to be my birthright, but because you believed I was worthy of it, even if a lie was needed to unite the Southlanders. Because you know that what is right is not always what is considered good. Where others see black and white, you see the grey, and embrace it. There is light in you as well as darkness. Balance. That is what I seek for Middle-Earth as well. Harmony, perfection... lasting peace.”

You eye him warily. His words ring true within you, they resonate with parts of you which you rarely let show. Whether or not he means it when he says he wants peace, of one thing you are certain—he sees you.

“What you are crafting with Celebrimbor,” you ask, unable to withhold the curiosity he has sparked within you. “It’s meant to accomplish that? Peace?”

“It will,” he vows. But then his gaze shifts, uncertain. “Unless Celebrimbor learns of my identity, and refuses to proceed.”

“He surely would,” you agree wryly. “He would sooner let all of Elvendom abandon these shores forever than carry out the design of... one such as you.” You find yourself hesitating to call him by the name your people have given him. Somehow, despite everything, ‘the abhorred’ does not easily roll off your tongue when you look at him.

“That is why I meant to wait until the work was complete to reveal the truth to you, or to anyone else,” Halbrand confesses further. “But perhaps this is how I regain your trust—by leaving the fate of your own people in your hands, rather than decide it myself.”

His searing gaze, his words, the truth of what he is—it’s so much to take in all at once. You turn your back towards him, leaning against the table as you shut your eyes briefly so you can think.

“You would have me become a deceiver,” you say, staring outside your window at the lights of Eregion, “for the good of my people?”

There is a small silence, broken only by the sound of Halbrand’s soft steps towards you.

“The same as you once asked of me,” he reminds you. You feel how much closer he has come, enough that you feel the heat of his breath on your neck, yet you don’t feel compelled to move away. “The middle path between light and dark.” His fingers brush one of yours wrists, grazing your skin without wrapping around it. “I chose it,” he murmurs close to your ear. “Will you?”

Your gaze drifts to where he is touching you, and you remain staring as your heart rages in your chest.

The part of you that knows what is moral and good tells you to turn and run. To warn all Elves who cross your path that they have been deceived, that a great foe has been living amongst them in fair form, carrying out his plans unhindered.

But are those plans evil indeed, if they are meant to preserve the very light of the Elves? They would not even stop to consider such a question. His name alone would be too great a threat. It should, by all means, threaten you as well.

Yet his touch at your wrist does not feel threatening. Nor does his breath falling softly on the back of your neck. You’ve felt him close before in body as well as spirit, in ways that went beyond the words spoken or not between you, and you had never once sensed wrongness. Only a perfect, most fulfilling fit.

“If I do...” you ask quietly, feeling as though your world is tilting on its axis, “what happens then?”

He closes the last of the distance between you, and your eyes flutter shut as you allow him to press his front to your back. You hear his smile in his voice as he murmurs in your ear, “We end all wars.” The hand on your wrist slips downward to lace your fingers together, the other coming to rest on your waist. “We bring balance.” His lips brush your neck, and you tilt your head to grant him better access. “We heal Middle-Earth,” he vows as you shudder. “Together.”

His arm is coiling around your stomach, then, aiming to pull you more tightly against him—but you take a breath and turn around sharply to face him. There is desire in his eyes, the same kind that thrums beneath your skin. Still, you plant a hand on his chest to keep him at bay. Or to touch him. Both.

“You deceived me,” you say firmly. Regardless of what happens next, that is a grievance you still carry.

“I know,” Halbrand admits. “And I intend to make it up to you. Starting now...” His gaze drifts to your lips, voice lowering to a suggestive whisper, “...if you would allow it.”

You don’t think. You’ve done enough of that in your long life. It may be madness, but one thing is certain—for once, you decide to act upon what you feel.

So, you fist your hand in his shirt and pull him into a kiss, moaning softly as he grabs your waist to press you flush against him. You feel his deep satisfaction, mingled with relief in the way he greedily tastes your mouth once more. You only now realize how subdued his kisses after your night in the smithy had been. He has held himself back from you so as not to deceive you further, confessed his identity of his own free will. That counts for something, doesn’t it?

You’d like to think so, at the very least, as you swallow the groan he makes into your mouth. He hoists you up onto your table, and it feels as though you are back in the smithy again—not within an illusion this time, but in the urgency and abandon of your embrace, in the way you wrap your legs around him and the fervent sounds of desire you pant out into each other’s mouths.

It’s almost the same, but everything has changed.

“This is not an answer,” you breathe out as his lips release yours, only to trail a line of bone-melting kisses down your neck. Your words, however determined you mean for them to sound, are but a soft moan as you sink your fingers in his hair and hold him to you. “I am only... exploring my options.”

He hums, understanding but not entirely pleased—perhaps that is why he briefly catches the sensitive skin of your neck between his teeth, drawing a whimper from you with the pleasurable sting. When he lifts his head to meet your gaze, however, he seems anything but discouraged.

“Well, since tables are a trodden path...” he says, lips ghosting over yours, “let us explore the bed this time.”

Worrying less about what is good, and choosing what feels right, you make no protest as he carries you into that particular uncharted territory.

[feyascorner]

Ok but what if tav is the hero of baldurs gate right, the god killer, slayer of the chosen three, savior of the emerald grove etc etc and after all that is told they had this incurable illness that the parasite had only slowed down. Now, with it gone, it’s progressing again and Tav can’t help but feel so stupid, weak even, that such a mighty hero could be struck by the weaknesses of their own body

Maybe pushes everyone away when they find out, too afraid to tell them that after everything they’ve been through after surviving all of that that they were going to die anyways

AND THEN ASTARIONS REACTION!!! Because surely he would not take that news sitting down (if he found out at all)

a/n. anon how did you know this type of prompt is exactly my cup of tea <33

It's not fair.

You did everything right. You saved the grove, the Tieflings, the Druids, the gnomes, the city, and even those who did not deserve saving, you always came to their aid. You've slayed gods, mind flayers, githyanki, even a bloody elder brain. And now, finally, after so long, with the brain having been defeated, and nothing but pure bliss occupying your headspace, you think you finally have time to relax.

Instead, you're reeled over the bathroom sink, eyes blurry from how much your body seems hellbent on making you miserable.

Ah, you remember. No matter what you've done for others, no matter what you've sacrificed, you're reduced to nothing but a sick patient. One that has no hope for a cure.

The months spent with little to do with your illness has left it to come back tenfold, and now all you can do is grovel on the bathroom floor, head in your hands as you understand that this is all you were meant to amount to. In the end, you were always destined to rot away by yourself and succumb to this gods forsaken disease. You are no hero. This is what you truly are---the pitiful remains of someone who longed for more.

The weeks following the defeat of the elder brain are filled with mournful streets for those who lost their lives and the joyous laughter of those who live on for them. Celebration--though it's difficult with half the taverns having collapsed in the battle--is not out of the ordinary. Strangers and friends alike come together every night, singing praises to whichever gods they worship. Your companions are no exception.

But each and every time, you deny their offers. You've become quite skilled at making up excuses about feeling tired, about having errands to run, or having loose ends to tie up. In reality, you're a coward. Despite the trust they put in you, you cannot provide it back--not in matters like this. Not when you've all been through so much, just for your own journey to amount to nothing.

It's not like you haven't known about this disease. You knew your death was imminent. But now, after experiencing just a fraction of what life has to offer, you no longer want to let go.

It's just not fair.

For what seems to be the millionth time this week, you hear someone knock at your door. Whichever one of your companions it is, you don't bother taking a step from your bed, face still planted into your sheets. You don't have the energy to move, and the useless healing herbs scattered across the room don't exactly hide your secret. So instead of standing, you bury your face deeper into your bed.

"You can't stay in there forever."

You flinch as you realize it's a voice you've dreaded hearing. One that invokes so much love yet fear as you remember that if you see him right now, it might be your last. And you don't want that. Not at all.

"I don't know what we've done to make you push us away like this," he says through the door, and your fist tightens in front of your chest. "But this is getting ridiculous, darling. You have to come out eventually."

You remain silent.

"Gods, just--" he stops, and you can hear the hesitance in his voice. You swear it almost cracks a little. "--Have I done something wrong?"

At this, you're suddenly on your feet, rushing to push yourself against the door, but unwilling to open in. "No, Astarion, you haven't done anything wrong. Don't you dare think that way."

You can hear him shift. "Then why do you avoid me? The others, I can understand, but me?...I mean, I thought we were more than that..."

"We are, it's just..."

"Just what?"

The final thread of your resolve snaps, and you reach toward your lock. Your hand falters for a moment, but you eventually open the door slowly. And if the way his face falls tells you anything, you must look absolutely dreadful.

"Oh, my sweet, what's happened to you?" he whispers, his eyes widening even more when he sees the mess of your home behind you. The clothes all over the floor, the blinds shut despite there being no sunlight to shield from, the healing potions and herbs messily tossed around...you'd feel ashamed if you weren't so tired already.

"...Are you sick?" he steps inside, taking his time to take in the state of what you call home. When you don't answer, he whips around to you, alarmed. "You're sick. Is it a cold? Flu?"

You shake your head, sick of having to lie to the one person you don't want to deceive. "It's a long story."

"I'm undead, darling. I have all the time in the world."

"It's not a very nice story."

"If I wanted a nice story, I'd be listening to a bard someplace else," he says, and you feel your eyes bubble with tears as he steps closer. "What's happened?"

The words spill out like vomit, and you're soon telling him what's been weighing on you for so long. You find yourself sliding down to the ground, and he goes with you, letting you grasp desperately at the sleeves of his shirt while you tell him everything. You can barely breathe with how fast your talking but you're afraid you won't say everything if you get any slower. The entire time, he just stares at you, his arms circled around you, and only when you're done does his gaze finally flicker.

"...Surely, there must be a cure." He's suddenly glancing around the entire room, at pieces of herbs. "Surely, at least one of these would--"

"None of them work, Astarion."

"Then we can find the finest healers in the city--we can even go back to that damn druid, and ask him."

"I've tried."

"Well, you haven't tried hard enough, obviously, if you haven't found a bloody cure!"

You give him one hard look--one with dark bags under your eyes and a weariness that stretches on for weeks--and his temper seems to cool. His shoulders slump, but he reaches for your hand, rubbing his thumb against your skin. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just felt so weak," you whisper. "I didn't want you to think that too."

Immediately, his eyes harden, and he takes both sides of your face in his hands. "No. I don't think you're weak, and that's not going to change. You've proven yourself more than I can count, and I know you enough to know that you can't let it end like this, love. You can't leave like this."

"Astarion..."

He shakes his head. "I won't let this take you from me. There have been too many opportunities for us to lose each other, and we've overcome them all. We'll just do it again. We'll go to the most skilled healers in Faerun. We'll go to all of them if we have to, and we'll start tomorrow."

You can feel yourself tear up again, and he kisses your tears away while you sob in his arms.

"I'll save you," he mumbles against your temple. "Even if it's the last thing I do."

[erosastro]

Composite chart observations 🍁

*none of the observations are guaranteed outcomes or are meant to be 100% representative of your relationship. These are just from personal experiences and observations

🍁Moon square ascendant - Could be that you guys initially were on different pages about the relationship. One person could have been more emotionally invested than the other. The other may have wanted something more surface level. Having the “what are we?” Conversation and still not understanding what you are.

🍁Mc square/opposite sun - something about the relationship makes people almost uncomfortable OR something about this couple is controversial. For eg there’s a big age gap. Can also seem like an opposites attract type of relationship. Like people couldn’t picture the two of you together yet here you are.

🍁Jupiter square ascendant - Jupiter is about growth and when it squares the ascendant, which represents the initial meeting of the two/how they come across, it tends to show a relationship that is stunted. It doesn’t develop into a next stage, of maybe something more serious.

🍁Pluto - ascendant aspects - Very transformative and full of growth, even in harder aspects, the relationship is there to teach you a valuable lesson, whether lasting or not. It is obviously more favourable with good aspects. This also indicates strong sexual tension and the two being very attracted to each other and drawn to one another.

🍁Harmonious aspects between moon and mercury - you both get each other on such a deep level. You just know what to say to each other and comfort each other when the other is upset. You feel like you can be yourself around one another and express yourself easily, without judgement.

🍁Venus - Uranus aspects - you bring a fresh perspective on love into the relationship. In harmonious aspects, you both know how to keep a sense of individuality in the relationship while still maintaining the connection between you two. You could find each other fascinating. Difficult aspects of challenging each others views on romance means it might be harder to come to some sort of compromise or agreement.

🍁Chiron in tenth house - the way you two heal and help each other grow could be something that people notice or they’ve witnessed the journey of it. You two might be noticeably different, especially emotionally, after entering the relationship. When in signs like cancer or Pisces, it emphasises on how nurturing the connection is that aids in the healing process. This couple has similar wounds around their reputation/what people think of them/validation and/or how to reach a certain level of success.

🍁Moon trine/sextile Mars - this is the “I’m your biggest cheerleader” aspect. I love this aspect because this person will encourage and motivate you to chase your dreams, desires, ambitions etc. it works well for both romantic and platonic relationships imo. There’s good support without feeling like the other person is overbearing or putting pressure on you.

🍁Gemini moon - oh this one gets such bad rep it kind of pisses me off sometimes. Aspects to the moon obviously make a difference but it’s not always a “two-faced” relationship or always on and off. There’s a playful, flirty nature to this couple who can communicate their feelings well with each other. It’s the perfect harmony of intellectual meets emotional. It’s a multifaceted experience to have a moon in Gemini with someone; you can go from a light-hearted conversation to a serious one whenever it’s required/needed without feeling like it’s forced due to Gemini’s ease for adaptability and duality.

🍁Saturn in fourth house - The sign is also important but in a general, Saturn can bring challenges to the couple who want to settle down or live together in some way, perhaps even start a family. There may be issues with one another’s mothers. But this can also be a rewarding relationship as if the couple withstands the challenges, they have a stable, open and strong foundation for their relationship, especially emotionally.

🍁Taurus Venus - soooo sweet and romantic and sensual. This is the type of couple that always finds a way to touch each other, whether it’s locking their pinkies together or leaning on each other, it’s one of my favourite Venus signs for composite charts. The one thing I’ve noticed is the undertone of stubbornness though with Taurus Venus, but it’s not drastic.

🍁Jupiter in harmonious aspects to Saturn (even conjunction) - wonderful balance here. Constantly helping and encouraging each other. Being a source of optimism and positivity when the other is down and knowing exactly how to lift the other persons spirits and encourage them to keep going. You empower each other to grow spiritually and probably career wise as well.

[thehigherseekerastro]

No. They are not your twin flame. You are not twin flames. Stop it.

IDC what tarot readers have told you... you do not have a twin flame, and your crush is definitely not your twin flame.

Your separation is not the "twin flame journey", it's the "you couldn't make it work like adults" journey.

"Oh, but our synastry-" Still not your twin flame.

And you wanna know why?

BECAUSE TWIN FLAMES ARE EXTREMELY RARE!!! And I mean EXTREMELY.

If everybody under the sun with an internet connection had a twin flame, that would be a very low number of souls on the planet.

Wake up.

Twin flame is just a term that got tossed around on the esoteric internet to hook you into tarot readings and other bogus relationship pseudo-spirituality.

And now every girl with a TikTok account thinks her toxic ex is her twin flame and they must be on this complex spiritual journey and that is why he cheated on her 17 times before they get married and have 5 children together.

🙄

Now, I don't mean to say that tarot readings are the problem. They're not. Get you a PERSONAL reading for your energy alone, first and foremost.

But also realize that spiritual connections don't exclusively mean twin flames. They might not even mean soulmates.

Sometimes you are meant to fall in love with this person FOR THE FIRST TIME in this lifetime. That's also a spiritual connection.

Planet Earth is not The Sims. You are not here to play pretend and have fun and kiki with a boyfriend just for the cutesy of it. You are meant to evolve spiritually INDIVIDUALLY. A partner is just a travel companion working on their own growth, who you might make an agreement to help each other out with. Your relationships (romantic and others) are designed for your spiritual growth and they have a purpose.

So are 'twin flames' and soulmates different? 🔥

Yes. Absolutely. And it's not easy to brush up on a soulmate, even though you have MULTIPLE soulmates, not just the one person. So let alone a twin flame.

A soulmate is another soul with whom you share an affinity and you've made a pact to aid the other in their learnings in this lifetime. Sometimes through challenges, sometimes through healing and pleasures. But it's a joint effort between different souls that are fond of each other.

A twin flame on the other hand would be the exact same soul split into two. That's an anomaly. It's very, very, very, very rare. Because there's just too many souls for everybody to be out here with only half their soul.

Long story short...

Sorry to burst the bubble.

I know you might want to feel special and spiritually connected. I know you might want to feel like your relationship was something special and make it matter. But it's just simply 9/9 times not that deep.

You might for real be soulmates. That's more likely. Not twin flames.

But even if you are, there's upwards of 20 soulmates you might come into this life with. Which means that maybe even that one relationship you felt was the one of ones, might just be just that... one of many 'the ones'.

And you might come into this life with no soulmate at all to begin with.

Which doesn't mean you are not meant to find a great love. It just means that you're meeting that person for the first time as lovers, and you need to develop that new connection, and it could be equally beautiful.

Soulmates might not even reincarnate in the same lifetime. So you know... Just live your life, man. And enjoy all the beautiful things life presents to you when it does.

[midniqhtt]

eric (aqpdo)

masterlist • 08/16/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 easy living I @fairyysoup

You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?

𑣲 just trying to be brave I @websterss

The reader only knows of one way to calm him whilst he's having a panic attack during the madness, and they gently let him rest against their chest and listen to their heartbeat until he calms down

𑣲 love and mercy I @lovebugism

you're more stubborn than the apocalypse. eric is the personification of a sad, wet dog. your world's collide when the world as you know it ends.

𑣲 shame is useless I @corroded-hellfire

Sam has noticed how much you look at Eric, and encourages you to go for what you want because no one knows how much time there is left.

𑣲 the great gig in the sky I @sunsburns

you had come to the library with only one thing in mind; to finish your final paper for class. but then there's this cute forgein lawyer asking you for help finding a book, and you think you're hitting it off with this guy but then the next thing you know, the world is ending.

𑣲 fallen fruit I @/sunsburns

you and eric go on a supply run to help aid the mother and her child at your safe spot, where dozens of other survivors are hiding. it isn't too far of a journey, and travelling in groups is better than alone, however, when the military starts bombing the bridges in new york city, the two of you are forced to go into hiding after being chased by a death angel.

𑣲 be quiet darling I @eddiesxangel

𑣲 i’d find you in any life I @storiesforallfandoms

in which two idiots in love find their way back to each other after the end of the world

𑣲 hush I @kitscutie

after you obtain an injury which requires stitches, you do your best to keep absolutely silent.

𑣲 perhaps, perhaps, perhaps I @pasukiyo

perhaps it's chance. perhaps it's happenstance. but perhaps it is fate.

𑣲 needs and wants I @babybluebex

in the direct aftermath of the apocalypse, you meet a man who's worse for wear in just about every regard. even though you can't do too much to heal his injuries, it's possible that you can heal his heart.

[elrielsgarden]

As evidenced by many a comment and post, yes, they do. At the very least when it comes to Elain Archeron.

And it’s largely, from what I have seen, women saying these things while still uplifting characters such as Feyre, Nesta, etc. Why has the major girlbossification of female characters been taken so far we have now circled back and missed the point of feminism? It is good to be more traditionally feminine, or to go slay enemies (if you’re in a fantasy novel anyways), or to be some wonderful combination of those sorts of traits. One is not “good” while the other is “useless.”

Elain is similar in many ways to Elide and Yrene, from the Throne of Glass series. But they are each individual presences, their own person. I also cannot accurately describe Elide or Yrene to be “popular” in the ToG fandom; it is rare indeed that I find someone whose favorite character is one of these ladies (I personally adore them). And one cannot properly compare their story arcs to then say that people don’t hate the two women from ToG because they’re perhaps more traditionally feminine (which in many ways I might argue against, if you’re comparing simply their more “feminine” traits)—and so readers don’t hate Elain for this reason. In fact, the hate for Elain seems to come from a lack of reason.

The very fact that, despite their similarities, Elide and Yrene are loved while Elain is not would indicate just how this hatred lacks reason and is indeed based on a superficial judgement of character based solely on Elain’s more traditionally feminine traits.

Elain has a presence. An absolutely essential one. And her story is not complete, meaning she will grow and surprise us in beautiful ways.

Good. I don’t want Elain to be perfect. She isn’t perfect. Aside from “plot devices” that aid good storytelling, a perfect character is not worth reading about. No human is perfect—so why should we be interested in the life of a perfect fictional character? Find a character, in book or other media, that’s perfect. I’ll wait.

Elain can be gentle, kind, and a dreamer while still being a beautifully flawed character. That is what makes a good story. A good character who readers can get behind, but who also messes up, has flaws, and finds or creates ways to overcome those very flaws.

I don’t buy this for even a second. Assuming that sweetness/gentleness and flaws can’t both contribute to what makes a character who they are is quite simply incorrect. You maybe don’t “buy the nice persona” of someone like Amarantha, when she tricked Prythian. That logic simply does not apply to Elain. She is kind, gentle, a dreamer. And flawed, too. Every character is layered. The whole of the rest of the inner circle. As Elain is, too.

Elain is disliked because readers choose to look past and away from her gentle, nurturing qualities, instead labelling her as “useless,” “boring,” and “personality-proof.” All that tells me is that you did not read the books, not truly. You took one cursory glance at her, missing every moment of her trauma, every part of what makes her who she is.

Nesta’s flaws are louder—darker, perhaps. This, too, drew hatred from readers. I never hated her, just as I never hated Elain. I saw a deeply wounded and traumatized character, who dealt with that in different ways than her sisters did—because her flaws are not the same as theirs, because she possesses different strengths and good qualities than her sisters. Nesta’s journey of healing was beautiful. As Feyre’s was. As Elain’s has begun and will continue to be.

To not identify with a character is perfectly acceptable. To dismiss and discard someone simply because one hates her kindness says many things about the reader who does this, about the ideas society has cultivated.

Elain is a beautiful character. To dismiss her is to dismiss every reader who identifies with her gentle soul. 🌸

[sillybruja]

Synastry question? Do you think there are fated aspects in synastry where there are high chances to meet with certainty? If so state some, btw would North node conjunct ascendant in Gemini mean both are somewhat destined to communicate on some level? Thanks:)

Oh for sure! in terms of aspects I feel conjunctions are the strongest indicator of meeting with certainty, or of coming together to accomplish the themes of the aspect, but to be more specific here's some more that i feel have higher chances of meeting with most certainty:

Sun conjunct Moon:

This one is the most obvious because when I see see this in a synastry chart, I immediately know that two people simply know each other, and not in a surface-level way. Be it sun or moon person -- you both tend to feel like each of you really know the soul needs of the other -- you know how they would feel about things, what they need, their fears, their desires -- an a lot of the time, this feeling of knowing these things just comes naturally. You might feel like you have known each other forever. Soulmate vibes.

Saturn conjunct personal planets:

Any time I see saturn making a conjunction to a personal planet in a synastry chart, I immediately know that these 2 people had to come together to learn (harsh) lessons of the aspect. Couples with this aspect come here to learn about how to conquer their own limitations through the limits (and harsh realities) put on each other from this relationship. Feels very karmic in nature, but it is not all bad. On the contrary, this could suggest you two come together to "mature" and achieve long term success. These aspects also suggests longevity in relationships or knowing the person.

Venus conjunct chiron:

Healing is possibly literally the "theme" of this relationship. There is lots of love in this connection, despite any hardships. Chiron person is meant to help aid venus person in their healing journey. Relationship, in general, could help both individuals heal. This is also a strong marriage indicator.

[astariontopofme]

𝐀 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐂𝐫𝐲 𝐎𝐧 🤍 (Astarion x F!MC)

Summary: Astarion is on a personal journey of self improvement to support his relationship. A little fluffy / hurt/comfort drabble.

Word Count: 1.8k

—————

By any sense of the word, Astarion was not known to be a nurturing man.

He wasn’t quite as in touch with other people's feelings in the way that Wyll or Halsin could be. If anything, he was rather cold in the sense of comforting another. Comfort was something he was deprived of in his two hundred years as a slave to Cazador, so what he’d never received he felt could not give out.

Which left him in a tricky predicament tonight.

Unlike most nights, she did not wish to indulge him in the details of her brutal adventure as soon as she returned. His strong little love had arrived shivering, distant and doused in dozens of conflicting scents of cold blood. All he could do was gawp at her for a moment, unsure of whether or not he should do something. It wasn’t uncommon for members of their party to return in such a state of gore and emitting a strong stench of death, but to return looking so mentally sore and empty was something he was yet to deal with.

Entirely unsure as to why, he wanted nothing more than to be the comfort she so clearly needed after such a day. He wanted to see her smile, it was the only thing that brightened up his night at camp. Smiling was obviously not in her repertoire of emotions that evening. 

As much as he wanted to give in to this new desire to nurture her, he didn’t dare get close until she had washed away the temptation staining her skin. No matter what, he had to resist the urge to aid in the cleaning of such an abundance of thickly spread blood. Visually, she was in a bad way, and he wouldn’t be able to help her while resisting the temptation to help himself to the scarlet feast she was drowning in.

All he could do was sit outside his tent, watching as Halsin helped to wash away the liquid badge of accomplished combat whilst healing her own open wounds. He studied the gentle touch of the well-built Druid, his large and rough hands so carefully patching her up as he tried to coax her out of her hypnotic-like state. Although the kind words from Halsin didn’t seem to be soothing her, Astarion made a note of the words of encouragement and sickly sweet pet names the healer used in an effort to make her feel safe.

Once she was patched up and in a much cleaner set of comfortable clothing, Halsin had offered her a shoulder to lean on and ear to listen to her troubles, but she quietly declined. Before she made her way to the lake, she thanked him for his help as she stood from her makeshift seat, not stopping when he suggested that she return to him if needed.

Astarion suddenly felt uneasy about her leaving such comfort to go and sit alone. Sure, she was his partner, but even he couldn’t deny that Halsin could give her emotional support and likely the warmest hug of her life to at least give her the slightest sense of security. 

It often made Astarion wonder what it was she actually saw in him. There was no doubt that the two of them were pretty nifty in battle, and she knew as well as he did that they had each other's backs. They were fearlessly protective of each other, each willing to do anything to shield the other from harm. 

But was that all their relationship could be defined as?

He wanted more for her, and admittedly for himself as well, but he was the only thing in the way of their progression. She was ready, willing and able to begin that chapter in their relationship, but he couldn’t let it be one sided. The cuddly and intimate side of things was still a learning curve for him as he progressively taught himself what he was and was not comfortable with and where his boundaries lie. He’d never had the luxury of boundaries before now, so her encouragement of him slowly discovering his own was greatly appreciated.

For that very reason, he had no qualms with her seeking comfort from other members of their party. If anything, it helped him learn the importance of patience and understanding and taught him how to express his own feelings. Although it wasn’t something he had yet expressed to the others, he was grateful for their unconditional support of her where he couldn’t yet give it.

Many nights he sat in his tent, building himself up to take that first step towards being the partner he wanted to be to her, only for his courage to come crumbling down as he thought more and more about whether or not he truly was ready for it. So as he watched her sitting by the lake, her arms wrapped around her own waist and shoulders slightly shaking from her torment, he felt something new.

Almost like a feeling of connection, he was suddenly completely drawn to her. He was standing from his uncomfortable perch on the bumpy terrain below him before he could even process any thought for what he was doing. She needed him, and this was both the first time he had recognised it and the first time he was acting on it. He moved toward her quickly, actually sensing her level of distress before he even knew what was truly eating away at her.

Unlike any other night at camp, he wanted to hear every detail of her troubles; tears and all. He wanted her to confide in him the way he had in her so many times before. He wanted her to lean on him for support because he wanted her to feel better.

Most importantly, he wanted to be her main source of comfort.

So as he approached his sniffling partner and silently sat himself behind her, he felt the first almighty crack in his hefty barrier. Fighting off the sudden quickening of his breath took mere milliseconds, a record by all accounts. That defensive stance of panic that repeatedly presented itself at even the slightest thought of being part of someone else’s emotional support system was overstaying its welcome, and he was ready to rid himself of it.

His hands gently pried her arms away from the tight hold they had on her waist, her grip so strong that it seemed she was trying to hold herself together before she fell apart in front of him. He locked his own arms in their place around her middle, pulling her back into his chest with a reassuring squeeze.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered suddenly, his mouth taking on a mind of its own.

Never before had he said such a sweet sentence with zero malice or ill intent. Every little doubt in his mind slithered away as her tense form shook pathetically in his hold. She was holding something in, a traumatic detail from her adventures that she may not want to relive.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The more he rubbed little circles into her waist with the tips of his fingers, the more she sank deeper into him. Her raised shoulders began to relax as each muscle softened within her, the unsettling tension slowly leaving her. He could feel himself doing something right, something that made him feel worthy of her love and time. Not even sex could make him feel as good as he did in this moment.

Astarion waited patiently for a response as she seemed to be clawing through her thoughts for an answer. His cold lips pressed a gentle kiss into her hair, the faint smell of blood still presenting itself upon her person. The smell did not deter him from his focus on her state as she began to break down into pitiful sobs, each heartbreaking tremor shaking them both as he completely enveloped her into him.

“Shhh,” he whispered softly. “Shh shh shh…it’s okay.”

She shook her head quickly, inhaling a shaken breath in an attempt to calm herself enough to speak. “I-I couldn’t…s-save-”

She needn’t speak any further, unable to anyway as she buried her face in her hands to muffle her sobs. She couldn’t save somebody, something that had been a reoccurring torment for her whenever she faced what she deemed as the highest form of failure. If Astarion was being wholeheartedly honest, he didn’t entirely understand her strong feelings for helpless people that had zero relation to her. 

She couldn’t save everyone.

He didn’t want to lose her in her personal mission to be everyone’s saviour, but he tactically held his tongue about his opinions. Conflicting opinions was, as Gale would put it, a normal part of a relationship, but Astarion knew he could be rather cut throat in his approach to such topics. He didn’t want her to think him heartless, because he really was trying to at least see things from her point of view first. And even if he couldn’t see why she was so attached to the helpless and needy, he wanted to convey that in a way that wouldn’t damage their relationship.

He still had a lot to learn, but truth be told, he was rather enjoying this personal journey to becoming his own person. A shocking turn of events to say the least. Something about this particular adventure made him feel like he was doing something right for a change. He was finally finding himself. Not the slave that Cazador created, but a man with his own morals and feelings.

His lips pressed many more little kisses wherever he could plant them, shushing her softly to alleviate the harsh sobs wracking her body. The back of her head eventually found its way into the crook of his neck, her soft hairs tickling at his puncture scars. He swayed them both slowly, resting his cheek upon her head to embrace her as much as he could.

She wasn’t in the right mind to tell him the story of her tragic day, so as much as he currently didn’t want to blindly promise her that she’d be presented with this side of him tomorrow, he wanted her to know that she no longer needed to seek out comfort from anyone but him. He wanted to hear about her upset, whether that was tomorrow or a week from now. All he knew was that tonight was not the night. 

Tonight, she just needed a shoulder to cry on.

_____

A/N: Hope you enjoyed my first little fic/drabble for BG3! FYI, I do accept requests! If you haven’t followed me from my HL blog, then please know that although I’m fully confident in my English, it is not my first language 🤍

[heartstringsduet]

I published around 300k worth of fic this year. Which is…crazy. I also have around 150k that I wrote and haven’t published yet, which is even crazier. I’m so grateful to have had the time to heal and writing and drawing helped a lot with that. As did everyone reading these, leaving a kudo or a comment. I try to write for myself but also who am I kidding, I write for others too, so thanks if you had time to go on one of my journeys with me. I’m so inspired by all of you, honestly! Thank you! 🎉

🚨 First Aid (161 k) - AU / Hurt Comfort /

NYC AU of the both of them meeting shaped by different circumstances, that force them to lie to each other.

⛓️ In this sweet surrender (29 k) - BDSM & Kink Exploration

A vacation is what both of them need to recalibrate after tragedy and as with everything, Carlos is prepared. The bags are packed, his mind filled with every scenario of how to unravel TK completely within three days.

🥄 2AM, Kitchen Floor (23 k) - Angst - 

To TK, the kitchen is a place of joint cooking with his new boyfriend, his friends' laughter, and most of all - dread. - tw: Eating Disorder

🎉 Changed For Good (12 k +) - TK Strand centric short stories

Thirty stories of how TK's life left its marks. Tbc.

⚾ Win or Lose (8 k) - BDSM  PWP 

What if the softball game ended with nothing but TK receiving his rightful reward for winning? What if Carlos ever so slightly tweaked his plans?

👕 It's in the fabric  (2 k) - Fluff

Carlos and TK share a single powder blue sweater. It doesn't go unnoticed.

♥️ You're the cause of celebration (5 k)  - Fluff

Valentine’s Day is cursed for them. Good thing they celebrate February 20th from now on.

⛓ In grief and lamentation (11 k)  - BDSM / Grieving / 3x08

The death of his mother rips the floor out from under TK’s feet. Carlos tries to break his fall, leaning more into their dynamic to guide TK to a safer landing.

🦵🏼 What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh? (6 k) - PWP Carlos wears shorts so of course TK needs to sink his teeth into his beautiful thighs and worship every inch of his skin.

🔥 More Than That (4 k) - PWP Carlos and his breeding kink. That’s the story.

📖 In your own words (12 k) - BDSM - Grief and Kink Exploration

Ever since TK's mother died, the fantasies Carlos had allowed to roam free in the past months seem inappropriate. Ever since his mother died, TK struggles to let go and give himself to pleasure. 

🎶 Your shotgun rider 'til the day I die (4 k) - Fluff

Carlos joins his husband for the concert of his life.

🍬 Blink and You'll Miss It (3 k) - 5x01 Coda

A night spent at the station, to try and get closer to finding his father's killer. A night steeped in the compromises and sacrifices a marriage entails.

⚠️ Eyes Wide Shut (3 k) - 5x03 Coda

Carlos always had a sixth sense when it came to TK. But this time, nothing could have happened. Everything was fine.

😎 The Weight of Your Name (2 k) - Undercover AU / Angst

“My real name is Carlos Reyes,” Diego says, voice breathy and wet against TK’s cheekbone. TK stops struggling. “I love you. No matter what, that has never been a lie.”

To Come 2025:

A Few Moons Ago (100 k+) - Werewolf AU

3AM (planned) - Sequel to 2AM 

This Line Of Work - (20 k+) Angsty Canon Alternative Let Me Part 9 & 10

Glee Club AU (4 k+)

Fantasy Soulmate AU (30 k+)

AU Collab I’ll tease you with but won’t share just yet

Tagging some peeps (back): @paperstorm @lemonlyman-dotcom @alrightbuckaroo @ladytessa74

@freneticfloetry @never-blooms @carlos-in-glasses @bonheur-cafe

@welcometololaland @rmd-writes @eclectic-sassycoweyes @liminalmemories21

@emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @pameluke @everlastingday @reyesstrand

@strandnreyes @butchreyes @goodways @lightningboltreader @tellmegoodbye

@literateowl @carlossreaders @henrygrass @honeybee-taskforce

@theghostofashton @orchidscript @nisbanisba @irispurpurea

@decafdino

[merwgue]

Let’s talk about the impossible feat of loving Nesta while simultaneously shipping Nessian. Yes, it’s possible to admire Nesta’s fierce, complex, and deeply troubled character, but it becomes a mental gymnastics routine when people insist on pairing her with Cassian, the very character who consistently undermines her healing and mental health.

There’s a fundamental issue here: Nesta is on a self-destructive spiral for the majority of her arc in A Court of Silver Flames, and Cassian, the supposed "love interest," isn’t helping—he’s actually worsening the situation. Cassian doesn’t just harm Nesta emotionally; he’s also not great for himself, which turns this into the classic case of two people who are absolutely not ready for a relationship but are shoved into one for the sake of drama, attraction, or—let’s face it—trauma-bonding. So let’s get into why loving Nesta means rejecting the idea of Nessian, because at its core, this relationship is toxic.

Cassian's Actions: Love or Harm?

In what world is it okay for a man to force a woman into an intervention-style imprisonment because she’s hurting? That’s not love; that’s coercion. The moment Rhysand, Feyre, and Cassian decide to lock Nesta up in the House of Wind without any real professional help is the moment you realize how warped their perception of "helping" is. Cassian actively participates in this isolation, and no matter how it’s spun, that’s not caring for someone’s well-being—that’s control. Realistically speaking, throwing someone with severe PTSD, depression, and a ton of guilt into a glorified prison doesn’t scream "let’s heal together"; it screams "I don’t want to deal with your pain, so I’ll just shove you into a corner."

The thing with Cassian is that he keeps asserting dominance over Nesta under the guise of tough love, which, at best, is misguided and, at worst, is abusive. There’s emotional manipulation here that people often overlook. He’s constantly undermining her boundaries, trying to force her into situations she’s clearly not ready for. This isn’t about "challenging her to be better"—this is about someone refusing to accept where she is in her emotional journey and trying to rush her into healing on his timeline.

Relationships Aren't a Band-Aid for Self-Destruction

You can’t ship someone who is in the throes of their own personal turmoil into a romantic relationship and expect everything to work out. It’s not the 90s where "love heals all wounds" was a plausible relationship arc. Let’s get real: both Cassian and Nesta are deeply flawed, emotionally scarred people who are not in a position to bring out the best in each other. Cassian has his own guilt, his own trauma, and his own unresolved issues, which means that he is self-destructing in his own way too. How is a relationship built on two crumbling foundations supposed to thrive?

There’s this common trope that "relationships make people better." And sure, sometimes that’s true. The right partnership can encourage personal growth, offer support, and provide a stable ground for emotional healing. But here’s the kicker: that only works if both parties are in a place to actively support one another. Cassian and Nesta are both drowning in their own emotional baggage, and what happens when two people are drowning? They pull each other down.

It’s Not the Right Time—Or Maybe It’s Just Not Right

Let’s entertain the idea for a moment that Cassian and Nesta could be meant to be. Maybe, in another universe, under different circumstances, their dynamic could work. But in this current context, it's not just that it's not the right time—it's that Cassian is fundamentally bad for Nesta's mental health. Relationships take effort, mutual respect, and understanding. What Cassian offers is a kind of pseudo-support that's wrapped up in his own unresolved issues. He’s often dismissive of Nesta’s pain, or worse, he actively exacerbates it by belittling her coping mechanisms (however flawed they may be).

Cassian pushes her physically and emotionally when she’s clearly not in a place to handle it. This isn’t the "right person, wrong time" situation—it’s the "this relationship is unhealthy for both people" situation. To claim they’re good for each other is to completely disregard the damage they do to one another.

Cassian's Behavior: Emotional Manipulation or Love?

Cassian fans often try to justify his actions by claiming he’s trying to help Nesta get out of her destructive cycle, but let’s be real here: a lot of what he does is emotional manipulation. Cassian constantly tries to mold Nesta into the person he thinks she should be, without giving her the space to figure out who she actually is. Yes, Nesta is angry, grieving, and hurting, but instead of letting her process that pain on her own terms, Cassian’s solution is to insert himself into her healing journey as if he’s the one with the answer to all her problems.

The power dynamics here are wildly skewed. Nesta is at her most vulnerable, and Cassian—who should recognize that and proceed with caution—does the exact opposite. He forces her into situations she’s not ready for, whether it’s physical training or emotionally confronting things she hasn’t yet processed. This kind of forced "healing" is toxic. It's not love; it's domination.

Abuse Isn’t Just Physical—It’s Mental and Emotional Too

It’s easy to point out physical abuse and say "that’s wrong," but what people fail to recognize is that emotional and mental abuse are just as damaging. Cassian’s emotional manipulation—his constant pushing, his refusal to respect Nesta’s boundaries, his belief that he knows what’s best for her—are all forms of emotional abuse. He might not physically hurt her, but the way he chips away at her mental and emotional health is just as harmful.

Nesta deserves a partner who supports her healing in a way that’s compassionate and understanding—not someone who forces her into situations she’s not ready for because he thinks it’s the best course of action. Cassian, for all his good intentions, isn’t that partner. At least, not now, and maybe not ever.

Conclusion: You Can’t Love Nesta and Ship Nessian

Here’s the bottom line: you can’t claim to love Nesta while simultaneously shipping her with a man who actively harms her, emotionally manipulates her, and refuses to respect her boundaries. If you love Nesta, you want her to heal, to thrive, to grow—on her own terms. Cassian, in his current state, doesn’t support that growth. In fact, he stunts it. So no, you can’t love Nesta and ship Nessian at the same time. To do so is to fundamentally misunderstand what it means to love someone like Nesta: fiercely, without conditions, and with a respect for her autonomy.

Cassian might be good for someone else, or maybe even for Nesta in a different life. But in this one? He’s not the hero of her story—he’s the obstacle.

[9amartt]

Each one of us has obstacles that constantly stand in his way towards Allah, hardships that make us long for Jannah. 

For many of us, those obstacles are in human form, yes, humans. People who -intentionally or unintentionally- stop us, hurt us, or make us stumble -therefore making our pace slower- or force our hearts to leave this path completely نسال الله السلامة و العافية. 

Especially in sacred months -such as the one we are in now- we find those obstacles suddenly becoming bigger -which makes it much harder to jump over them or walk around them- so their affect on our journey becomes more severe, their harm becomes unbearable and the wounds they cause us deeper, making them take longer to heal. 

As we finally get to take a breath, tired of building this fortress of eeman that our evil nafs should not be able to destroy, -a fortress we built brick by brick, all alone with the company and support of no one but Our Lord- we find them behind us, destroying our hope, with slow steady strikes, a smiling face and innocent eyes. 

Innocent eyes that show no evil -for perhaps they do not intend any bad!, but their actions certainly portray otherwise- 

In seconds, the hard work of days, weeks, months or even years disappears. Gone, like it has never existed. 

In seconds our gardens of hope become swamps of despair, in seconds our hard earned motivation, fades, or even dies…

All of this happens in a few instants, a moment of anger, or sadness, a misunderstanding.. or a mere act of oppression brings us back to square one, as if we never walked a long journey, or as if we did not fight battles that -apparently- increased our immunity to the hardships of the way. 

In seconds, we become, yet again, that ignorant child who stops doing what benefits him, to punish his parents for not giving him what he wants. We start to harm ourselves with neglect, expecting our suffering to be a punishment to those who -intentionally or unintentionally- strive to hurt us, unaware that we are doing them a favour, and the losers here are no one but ourselves.

When we stop doing what benefits us because of people, we are aiding our enemies against us, we are ripping our arms off and giving them to our jailers, so that they can use them to flog us if theirs get tired.

I know that their presence in your life makes you weaker and less productive than many of your peers, it forces you to break many promises you made to yourself and others… I know that their presence perhaps leaves you lost in a maze which’s only exits are either extreme self reproach or extreme self empathy, for you use their harm as an excuse for your actions -or the lack of them!-, yet are unable to get over the fact that excuses are the enemy of improvement! 

So remember, each one of us will be buried alone, the oppression you faced will not be an excuse for you to abandon your goal in this dunyah, rather, it should make your determination to attain Jannah higher and your longing to Allah stronger, for no one accepts to suffer for nothing.. do we?

I am aware that the emotional affect of these obstacles is not an easy aspect to deal with, I never managed to deal with it myself.

You will grieve and you will cry, you will wish you were never born and you will sob until you become unable breath, -fully helpless- you will realise how meaningless and weak you are, you surely will, and that is something that will accompany you during your entire stay in this dunyah unless Allah grants you a way out, so get used to it! 

What we do not want you to get used to is: lack of action. That is why, my advice to anyone who reads this, is to disconnect your heart from your limbs, cut the cables connecting them (I take no responsibility for anyone who takes these words into their literal sense!) do it whenever your heart is ill, so that it may not affect your actions. 

Let your arms, legs, tongue… all act by themselves while your heart heals, so that once it comes back strong and healthy, it will be able to lead them again in sha Allah. 

The heart and limbs are there to support each other, and by supporting I mean: uplifting, motivating, forcing to improve each other, not to accompany one and other in pain and illness.

Do not let the sickness of your heart stop you from reaching for its medicine with your arms!!!

And that is it may Allah bless you. 

[istoleyoursk1n]

Hello, I saw your requests are open after I read some of your stuff and wanted to give an idea. One thing I don’t see too often in fantasy is anti-magic types so I’d like to request a Tav that is magically blank. What I mean by that is where everyone else either has magic or is effected by it, Tav can be neither of these. Try to hit them with a lightning bolt? Doesn’t work. Illusions? Doesn’t work. Enchantments? Nah. This makes them a terrifying mage hunter that can go toe to toe with many magic creatures and users. Of course they need to work around not being healed by magic as well. (Choose whoever for the characters!)

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How would the boys react to a Tav who’s incapable of being harmed by or creating magic?

(If any of you won't see one for the girls, just ask <3)

.

.

: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“I know I’ve already got the delightfully excellent privilege of looks to me, darling, but damn it all! You’d think those lazing Gods would grant me more than just a dashing face to get me through my troubles too!”

Immediately comes asking how the hell you gained such an ability and if so, how could he get some of that for himself.

He's envious of the fact that nearly all magic seems to have little to zero effects on you. He's far too consumed by the amount of advantages it gives you that he doesn't exactly see the downsides.

I mean, he’s seen you take a fireball to your face and shake it off as if it was nothing. However, the sight of you bleeding out as every magical healing potion and spell does absolutely nothing to aid you ends up being the very thing that makes him wonder if it would be worth it.

But hey! It's rather entertaining for him to watch every foe you encounter gasp in shock when they realize all the magic spells they throw at you do nothing to hinder your each attack.

The funniest thing he saw was someone trying to manipulate you with a charm spell only for you to humiliate them for their obvious attempt.

: ̗̀➛ WYLL

“By the hells, you’re immune to magic? That’s one darn good of an advantage to have, especially on a journey such as ours. Though, it's a shame that you’ll never get to see the delights that come with it, you would have loved it, I’m sure!”

He wasn't all too bothered by the fact you couldn't create magic. Some people lived all their lives without using them and they still made fine warriors, why should he judge you?

However, he was completely shocked when he first watched a lightning bolt strike your body only for you to shrug it off. You didn't even have the burn marks that would have came from it.

After figuring out your little situation, he was both deeply fascinated and impressed. There's no way anything is stopping either of you now, not when you are immune to nearly all types of magic.

Be prepared because this man does start to give you ridiculous titles over your unique ability. “The anti-magician”, “The impenetrable magic consumer”, it gets worse and worse but it's making you both laugh.

Yet, what he does find quite concerning is the number of times he's witnessed your other companions use you as a personal test dummy in terms of magic-based attacks. He’s always quick to grab you out of those situations even though you were mostly okay with it.

: ̗̀➛ GALE

“Immune to magic? Truly? Are you telling me a particularly powerful sorcerer could cast a tremendously potent necrotic spell on you and you’d just... Stand there… with not so much as a bruise? Are you certain you’re from this plane of existence-”

What in the fuck <— His initial reaction lmao

He’s never even seen anything that could resist most if not all magic, even worse that you can't even seem to make it yourslf.

He’s spent the majority of his life so heavily involved with magic and the weave that he could hardly see himself without it, better yet, he doesn't even understand how you live so mundanely.

Heck! Even lower-class citizens could learn magic if not already know how to cast a basic spell or two. Now he has a hundred different questions running through his head and you could probably only answer half of them.

Perhaps he even suspected that you may have just used a multitude of potions of resistance on yourself to turn out this way but if so, the effects should have worn off by now.

Either way, he’s bewildered by you. Intensely interested in how this situation of yours came to be and if there is truly a limit to what magic you can resist. Though, trust that he won't try to experiment on you for himself.

: ̗̀➛ HALSIN

“Ah, though I understand the loss of seizing the art of magic for oneself is rather unfortunate, this only means that perhaps a far more naturalistic path awaits you. One I hope brings nothing but joy and aid in our journey ahead.”

Pleasantly surprised but also curious about it all. When you say all magic do you truly mean all? And if he were to bring a magical flame near your skin, would you feel it's warmth?

Though, he doesn't press on the matter too much. However, there are occasions when he has forgotten about your immunity and ends up shielding you from a magical blast you could have easily taken yourself.

Reflexes perhaps. He’s fairly used to jumping in to protect those he cares for and he does get a tad bit embarrassed over the fact that your magic immunity slipped his mind once or twice due to his own impulses.

Though worry not if magical healing spells or potions don't work on you! He knows plenty of natural ways to heal your wounds. Though it will take significantly longer.

Regardless, he's happy to be of service to you, even teaching you some ways to use herbs and the fauna around you to make a quick remedy to all sorts of wounds so you won't have to ever struggle as much as you did before.

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