#grove elders

[lailoken]

Inducing the Aid of the Oak Tree Lord

I had to run some errands that took me a ways away from home today, and while I was there, I realized I was actually fairly close to a butte that I occasioanlly visit in order to propititate a great, hollow-bearing Oak Tree which grows there. Since I've done some potent and highly effective magic with the help of the Oak Tree Lord recently, I thought I would go to him again with another request. Specifically, my stores of Hollow Water have begun to run low, and I've been needing to replenish it. We had some very wet weather not long ago, which made me think I would be easily able to retrieve the water I needed from another tree hollow I've drawn from before, but following a sudden spell of hot and dry weather, I was chagrined to discover a hollow that was very wet, but not full enough to retrieve water from. I was worried I might have missed my chance to get more for a while, but given that the Oak Tree Lord helped me find the last source of Hollow Water I drew from, it seemed worth going to him again.

Being an unplanned visit, I didn't have any of the normal tools I would have with me for such an endeavor—such as a flask for collecting water, a lance for drawing blood, or anything on hand for me to offer the Oak Tree Lord—but a mage must frequently make do. In the end, I collected 13 Galls from other Oaks around the butte, each of which I painted with my blood (thanks to the help of a nearby Hawthorn copse) and then fed to the Oaken Mouth of the tree I came to propititate. I also gave a wreath that I wove from dandelion flowers.

Literally minutes later, I was overjoyed (and a little astonished) to stumble upon exactly what I was looking for. The natural font was deep and pungent, and what's more, the tree which bore it was an old Oak itself. I carried out the necessary ritual actions and gathered the water using my emptied water bottle (which I will be cleaning very thoroughly after this.)

What I gathered has since been transferred into an old glass vessel that I found once I was done, being sold for only $6 at a nearby junk shop I'd never noticed before. This should definitely last me a good while.

The Grove Elders—an assembly of tutelary tree deities possessing immense wisdom and power—are a truly amazing group of entities to work with.

[elderscrollsconceptart]

"Blessing of the grove"

Art for The Elder Scrolls: Legends

*Artist Unknown* If anyone knows the artist comment below

[musings-from-an-elder-goth]

Lisa Frankenstein Filming Locations

“It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.” ― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

As promised, here are some of the filming locations for Lisa Frankenstein. As I just saw Kathryn Newton at Spooky Empire in Orlando this past weekend, I decided to stalk filming locations for some of her cooler movies. Or you can just watch the video I made, which covers all the locations but it goes into much less detail:

I found most of the locations on my own, but then received a location list from a person on the film's production team which confirmed the ones I'd already found and gave me the ones I was missing. Big thank you to that person!

***Spoilers below***

We'll start with Lisa's home which is located at 2552 Cypress Lawn Dr, Marrero, LA 70072. The shed in the back yard for the tanning booth is really part of the property, & can just be seen from the street (circled in red in second image).

Now, if you go there, remember, THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY. Perfectly fine to admire it from the street, but do not trespass, do not knock on the door, do not ask for a tour, & do not ask if Lisa is home. Please. Now, if the folks living there say 'Hey' & invite you in when they see you in the street taking selfies with the house, that's another thing entirely - but otherwise, low profile it.

Although they filmed a little bit inside the real house, at least for the scenes where Creature first arrives, most of the house interiors were filmed on a sound stage which I know thanks to Zelda Williams posting this photo:

And that sound stage is The University of New Orleans Nims Center Studio located at 800 - 824 Distributors Row in New Orleans. I know this because of this picture from a behind the scenes video showing the entire cast & crew taking a group photo with two distinct architectural features circled. The next image is a Google street view of the same location with those features also circled.

Per the locations list, the party house Lisa & Taffy go to early in the film is located at 12565 Patterson Rd, New Orleans, LA 70131, which I've confirmed via location detail on Google maps:

And the high school is Belle Chase high school at 8346 LA-23, Belle Chase, LA 70037, which I've also confirmed via architectural detail:

The exteriors for Bachelor's Grove Cemetery & the woods around it, the wooded paths, & the bench scenes all take place in Brechtel Park, which is located in the Algiers neighborhood of New Orleans.

The park offers roads for driving scenes as well as thick woodland with vines & dense ground cover for the cemetery set - which, sadly, was entirely fake. Below is the exact location of Bachelor's Grove.

Bachelor's Grove is located at GPS coordinates 29.9100534 -90.0124431. The easiest way to get there is to take an asphalt sidewalk that you'll find about 100 feet to the right of the entrance. That sidewalk will take you around the north edge of the park and then turn left (south) where you will look for the 2nd marked trail. Follow that trailfor about 50 feet and you'll find a second marked tree, which I call the Twisted Tree, and you're in Bachelor's Grove.

Moving along, the scene at 1:17:37 in the film where Creature goes to retrieve Janet's (Lisa's step-mom's) car and kills the mean old man who is harassing the kid who can't start a lawn mower, was filmed at the south dead end of Dede Street in Marrero, LA at GPS 29.855776, -90.093451.

Rather pleased with myself for finding that one - not easy.

Creature then returns to just outside Bachelor's Grove, which again was filmed in Brechtel Park, with precise location circled in the third image.

Lisa & Taffy arrive there & Lisa psychs herself up to go into the cemetery to kill Creature at GPS 29.906104, -90.009096

This is still in Brechtel Park, they just moved the cars about 30 feet to the west & spun the camera around - the dead giveaways are those posts along the road & the two small hills in the background.

Lisa then runs down a wide, woodland path.

This photo of one of Brechtel Park's wide, wooded paths is the same path, located at GPS 29.908912, -90.011958.

And here's that spot circled below:

When Dale, Lisa's dad (played by Joe Chrest, who also plays the Wheeler's dad on Stranger Things), & Taffy visit Lisa's grave at the end, they are standing in the southern section of Carrollton Cemetery in New Orleans, at GPS 29.947097, -90.121813.

The reason they used this location is because Carrollton is one of the few New Orleans cemeteries that has a large section where all the graves are below ground, as this movie is supposed to be taking place near Chicago.

As for how I know they used this specific location, I have a wine bottle shaped tombstone to thank for that. In the below image, we see that odd tombstone from the front.

And here we see it from the back, as I wasn't able to get a clear image of it from the same perspective of the above image:

Also rather proud of that find.

And the final scene on the bench is also in Brechtel Park at the location circled on the map, GPS 29.909290, -90.010784.

So the only significant filming location I can't find is Michael's red brick colonial, but whatever. Found Michael's house, too!

Anyway, here's to hoping we all find that special someone who was reanimated just for us. 🦇🖤🦇

creaturesfromelsewhere 5-23-2024

[crowskulls-art-and-fandoms]

"A toast, to the high life!"

[daybrightsims]

Even as we age, our brotherhood was destined to last... 💚💙🤙

[everlovedayclub]

Happy New Year!

It’s always exciting as we turn the page to another new year. A blank slate stands before us; 12 chapters to write our story, 365 new pages to explore. But as always we like to pause and reflect on all the important moments we shared in 2022. We had an epic journey we called Passport to Adventure. We visited a whopping TWELVE countries and by our calculations covered a total of 28263.47 miles!…

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[autistichalsin]

Okay I know I've made like three posts about this one specific thing but I gotta say, anyone who calls Halsin a typical boring Druid either doesn't understand Halsin or doesn't understand Druids, because Halsin is very much an atypical Druid.

Just a few ways Halsin is different than other Druids:

He can't control his wildshape. He transforms involuntarily when under stress, which is not a thing other Druids experience, and he can't control himself fully in wildshape either. He retains traits, such as an enhanced sense of smell, out of his wildshape form, and has the ability to remain as a bear borderline indefinitely, instead of Druids usually only being able to maintain the same form for a couple hours at most.

He doesn't hate undead; he views them the same as living creatures, worthy of life. He cares for Astarion deeply, and is furious if the player allows the 7,000 spawn to die. (He's a little nicer if they do it for a mercy kill instead of the ritual, but is clearly only happy when they are released into the Underdark, the exact thing a Druid is supposed to want to avoid.)

He dislikes the city because it displaces nature, yes, but he VERY rarely says that. Instead, almost every time he laments the conditions of Baldur's Gate, what distresses him is how capitalistic systems harm sentient beings- especially children. He is more upset at the human(oid) suffering he encounters in the city than he is at how it displaces nature.

Halsin is on an obviously morally good alignment. While Druids are no longer required to be neutral, most still are anyway, especially those from the Emerald Enclave, which the Emerald Grove is part of.

Emerald Enclave Druids are encouraged to sabotage society; they breed aggressive animals and place them near settlements to deter development, secretly sponsor brigands to attack new settlements, and simultaneously interact with local populations by providing sweet drinks and teas to boost their public image, so that new developments are curtailed while nearby people think the Druids are kind and harmless. Halsin very notably never even thinks about doing such things, even though it would be trivial for him to do so.

While Halsin's explanation for wanting to stop the Absolute is initially far more in line with Druidic thinking (they're unnatural, obviously), he later grows to want it finished because he wants you, the player, and your friends to be safe.

Halsin has zero desire to ladder-climb in the ranks of the Druids, nor to grow more powerful; he was perfectly happy as he was before the Shadow Curse, and is quite upset he had to waste 100 years of his life "dealing with others' problems and personalities." BUT the fact that he was happy to just that as alderman of his commune suggests the problem was with being forced into the position and being relied on as the sole authority, instead of one trusted elder of many.

Halsin wants children desperately, but was kept from having them by his leadership role. This is yet another example of how, despite his deeply held beliefs, being a Druid ultimately made him less happy.

Halsin isn't very good at leading the Druids, to the point that many of his Druids resent him, many are swayed to a cult the instant he leaves, and he himself decides the best thing he could possibly do for the Grove is leave it and have a better leader come in and take over.

Nearly every struggle Halsin has in the game arises from a conflict with his Druidic beliefs- whether it's his need to cleanse the Shadow Curse causing him to be an ineffective leader of the Grove, his desire for a family being held back by his leadership role, or his love of humanity battling against his hatred for cities as unnatural blots on nature.

Basically, nearly every character beat Halsin has comes from him not being a typical Druid at all, and in some cases, from him being rather bad at being the things Druids are supposed to be.

[dropsnectar]

Fawning Rose: Vine Monster x GN!Reader

The Adventures of an Elven Herbalist Part One

NSFW or NSFT

This is my first time writing anything in 6 years so keep that in mind. Also my first smut fic. Or monster fic. I literally learned about the sexual parts of plants for this fic. Don't know how I got here but this was fun! btw if you don't like oviposition, I marked the parts with three !!! before and after that scene, so you can skip it if you want.

WORD COUNT: 3167, or 7 pages on Docs

It had been a long journey from your home country, having to cross an entire sea to get to the sleepy elven town of Hairevick. An Herbalist, you could craft pills to treat a human flu, create a poultice for a dwarves sore, work-tired limbs; even brew potions to help a beastmen ease out of a mating season-- but it was still lonely. Their were no elves about, except for the rogue eccentric nomad. 

Feeling as you had fully mastered your craft in that area, and curious about your kind, you set forth in hopes of bettering yourself. However, when introducing yourself to your neighbors, you found everyone to be polite, but detached. As far as elves went, you were quite young, and the people of Hairevick were elder and not so trusting of outsiders. But worse of all, everyone here seemed to have an excellent knowledge of the local flora and fauna, and their uses in maintaining health. There was no need for an herbalist, especially one so unfamiliar with their lands. 

You spent the entire week mourning your state over glasses and pints of botanical alcohol-- The local tavern drinks were amazing!-- until you finally met a sympathetic face. 

He had long silver hair and the wisp of a ginger beard around his sharp jaw; a peculiar trait. He greeted you friendly enough, asking how you were settling in. It turned out that he owned a store in town, selling odds and ends. He even had a little apothecary in the corner, where those who couldn’t be bothered to make a forest run would buy herbs and tinctures. 

Starved for companionship, you bombarded him with questions about clients, and local herbalism. He was jovial, and after quite a few dregs of honey yarrow grog, offered you a book on the local flora. After some midnight bonding over stories of patients, he gave you a proposition. 

He was having some issues procuring some materials from a special plant, a Fawning Rose. It had incredible healing properties, but a bad habit of uprooting itself and fleeing from anyone who wasn’t a youth. If you could lure it out and bring back anything, be it petals, roots, greens, he would pay you handsomely. Maybe even give you some lessons on how to work with local plant life.

It was for this reason that you found yourself two days into a trip to the heart of the Haire Wilds bordering town. It was not going well. 

***

The cool air caressed your skin as you entered the grove. You had caught a peculiar sweet smell, somehow floral and buttery at the same time, and had followed it with hope filling your heart. The scent had gotten so thick you could taste it, strong as a tea on your tongue. Blue wildflowers covered the ground, interrupted by the common tree route or vine. 

Your eyes followed the vines or small roots, colored a sage with a speckled gradient to midnight blue. They traveled up into the middle of the grove. Sunlight, so rare this far into the Wilds, fell down in large delicious specks from the trees. They refracted off a large flower, almost two yards in width. Its petals were raspberry pink, turning blood red in the middle. Vines from its base led upwards and rested on the low boughs of the nearest trees, framing the flower and its various young buds like some sort of ethereal art study. 

You grew excited, feet tripping over roots as you ran forward, losing a shoe. You lost balance again and landed face first into the crook of a particularly large vine and hit your head. Hard. 

Hot pain crashed through you, making you curse as you steadied yourself. You tried to get up but the heat struck your temple like lightning as you moved upwards. Alright. Best to stay down then. 

As you waited, you were able to see past the stars in your eyes and notice a slight powdery substance on the vines. It, too, was pink. 

Maybe it was the thrill of finally finding the damn thing, or the head injury, but you felt different. You could hear your heart pumping hard in your chest, pleasantly tight. Your breath was ragged, the air pushing a hard, chilling heat through you. 

Like a particularly good run, your mind registered. A high. 

Your limbs started to tingle at the tips.

The rose’s perfume felt more like a mist now. You were only a few feet away from the base flower, and the scent had turned heady. Your hunger from a missed meal seemed to be surfacing, goaded on by the delectable smell the plant was giving off. While the pain eased and the stars disappeared from your eyes, you noticed that the lightheaded fuzzy feeling stayed.

Uh oh. Not a concussion.

You had to work hard to bring the fear into your mind. There was very little anyone could do to help you out here. The best you could do was not move around too much, and hoped the Fawning Rose would cooperate.

Suddenly, you notice some movement from the roots under your palms. 

No no no not now! Please, I haven’t harvested you yet! You thought as you tried to scramble up. 

The roots moved upwards with you, shoving you onto your side. Sliding around your feet, one took your other shoe with it as it slithered about under you. Another seemed to upend itself and squeeze cooly between your toes. You jumped a bit, but your gaze and mind were slow.

Something thick gilded itself on your shoulder making you look up. Vines, three, four, five of them descended and started rubbing themselves against you like cats. The movement was kicking up clouds of the pink pollen, making you sneeze as you wiggled against the plants outer limbs.

A part of you was horrified, thinking that perhaps you had scared the thing off. After all, you had been warned that this type of rose was particularly skittish. But the plant did not seem to be gathering itself to run away, rather it was pulling you closer to itself, the dragging tearing at the underside of your clothes.

Try as you might, you couldn't seem to think. Foggy, fuzzy, your mind was like cotton. The tingling in your fingertips has spread through your body, and an embarrassed part of your brain noticed your lower body was starting to awaken too. A warmth was beginning to pool in your gut, slow and lazy. Tingly. Fuzzy, like your head.

The vines continue to rub against your body, tearing the rest of your clothes away until only skin remains. They were relentless, cool against your hot skin. Their outer layers were textured but still smooth; a foreign sensation but extremely exciting. It felt almost like something was licking you, the powder giving a wet feel as it spread itself all over. Liquid heat glazed the innermost parts of you, much to your embarrassment. 

Aphrodisiac. You finally registered. You started to curse out that damned store keeper. 

You’d been played. 

You were now at the base of the flower, with even more roots and vines cradling and moving over your body. You were… pushed? Pulled? A foot into the air, close enough so that some of the smaller buds were leaning over you, as if they were getting a good look at you. You felt a knowing, a presence from this plant now. It really was looking at you.

Some desperate part of your mind, far far back in your mind, tries to set off danger bells. That you needed to get up and run.

Ooze started to secrete from the smaller buds, and the already overpowering scent of floral butteriness seemed to multiply. It dripped out onto your belly, warm and tingling, then your chest, your inner thigh, even a bit on your cheek.

The syrup dribbled down into the planes of your mouth as you wriggled under the vines. A particularly mischievous one pushes through the plush cheeks of your ass and moves up, poking at your entrance, causing you to gasp. 

The liquid touches your tongue. It tastes just as it smells, deliriously delicious. Sweet. Hot. It was divine compared to the little rations you’ve been eating the last few days. Like youd been starving and had sudden.ly been given free reign of a pastry shoppe. But no pastry could top this silky butteriness

What little heat that had kindled inside you was now a roaring flame, putting your past arousal to shame. You groan, and pull your head up, sticking your tongue out for more. A part of you is screaming to stop and run, but it is a stupid part that is buried instantly under your sudden overwhelming need. You are desperately horny, and you deserve to feel good after all the trouble you've been through lately.  

Still sticking out your tongue, you start to moan even louder as the vine messages your entrance with its thick girth. At the same time, one of the buds above your face seems to notice your desperation, and leans down to your lips.You lick at its plush petals and sweet sweet nectar seeps into your mouth. It tastes much like a floral pastry and you suck greedily as it pushes itself deeper in. 

The petals are so soft, yet still firm in your mouth as a river of nectar floods your throat. You giggled around it as it started to take its full effect. You felt light as air, so good. 

The vines had moved over to allow a bud to circle itself around your most sensitive part. You gasped out as it started to suck you, making stars flood your already glistening eyes. Your wet lashes fluttered as it began to suck wave after wave of pleasure out of your body.You had never felt so good, you noted somewhere in your sex drunk mind.  The whole time, the bud leaked nectar, completely soaking all parts of your groin.

The nectar left your skin feeling sensitive,  and completely soaked. This seemed to please the vines, which continued to massage the oil about you, then finally push in. You cried out at the sensation. Drool started to pool out of your mouth, mixing with the nectar.

 The vines rubbed lazy curving lines around your walls, making your hips jerk and shake. They seemed to know what they were doing as they started out slow for a time, then sped up their pace, thrashing about inside you. You clench around them, overwhelmed by the unyielding sensation. The pooling heat in you was building high, and you could tell the walls were about to break.

A rogue, mischievous bud had decided to examine your hole, tracing around your entrance in lazy circles. The petals were so soft, softer than skin. The texture made you feel desperate. As if to read your mind, the bud stopped. It must have been blooming because you felt little feelers, probably stamans, tracing about your genitals, wet with its lovely, delicious pollen.

 You swore and whined and pleaded for more as the vines fucked you through it, voice garbled by nectar. Another, thicker vine veined in indigo added itself to its companions and you finally came. The rush was like being tossed in the ocean, a shock that completely enveloped your entire body in cold, pulsing ecstasy. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, your juices spilled down on the forest floor below. 

The echoes of the waves of pleasure were still rocking through you when the vines surrounded your body started to move you upwards again. The vines were slow and delicate as they handled you, as if you were precious cargo. You were brought upwards, almost as if they were about to set you on your feet. Your neck was out, as you were still suckling the addicting flower liquid. 

You noticed through your long damp hair that you were positioned just over the center of the Fawning Roses main flower. A drop of nectar slipped out from inside you and dribbled down and onto the flower's green pistil. The stigma was thick, with four fat lumps at the top. The stamen surrounding it swayed, almost as if there was a breeze. Their magenta anthers rained down more pollen, causing a beautiful gradient against the deep red at the middle of the large petals. It was a truly breathtaking sight. 

A single vine wiggled towards your face and pushed back your hair. You found the gesture almost sweet, leaning into its touch. You remained like that for a time, before the vines started to lower you on to the stigma. 

No no no, you tried to whisper, some understanding dawning; but the bud was being aggressive with its feeding, pushing further in your mouth. It had a job, and its job was to make you so desperately horny and stupid, you’d let this flower breed you. 

The stigma was a hard fit at first. Its lumpy texture felt so good rubbing against you, you couldn’t help but hump back into it. The vines around you squeezing your skin, tilting your hips this way in that, trying to make the fit. The surrounding stamen started to rub their anthers against you, two started focusing on your nipples. You continued to hump the stigma, smearing the nectars from your groin all over it. Then, finally, finally, You were able to squeeze it in. 

The vines had taken over the humping for you now, pushing you down harder and harder onto the pistil. The lumps dragged against your walls in such a beautiful way, that you screamed out babbling whines. Your skin was covered in nectar and bright pink pollen. Every part of you was being squeezed, rubbed, oozed upon with tingling liquid, that you weren’t even sure you had a body anymore, just pleasure. After you came for the fourth time, you started to feel a pulsing within the pistil.  It was like the thing seemed to grow within you.

! ! !

Ridges started to squeeze against your entrance, rubbing against your walls. They moved up, up, up, into the deepest parts of you. There was a sudden burst of warmth, then something small and squishy. You marveled at the texture, as the flower continued to lower you down on the pistil, now at a slower pace, in smaller movements. You ached so badly, but the new sensation of the objects and warmth inside you made you wanna keen louder. They felt sort of like eggs.

Seedpods. You registered lazily. You were being turned into a seedbed. 

This realization only seemed to turn you on even more. They felt so good, rolling about inside your walls. The warmth they brought rivaled the cool temperature of the pistil, a delightful duality. 

You moaned with every bulge, push, then pop of warmth and heaviness. It was getting to the point now where the vines were pulling you up off the pistil to make more room for the seeds. 

! ! !

You were cumming so much now you lost count. It was getting to the point that you were just continuously orgasming, as the seeds and the pistil dragged against your most sensitive parts. 

You may have been like that for hours, days even, the nectar kept you so dizzy you couldn’t tell time. But at some point you were so full that the pistil seemed satisfied. The wriggling stamen around you stilled, and the vines carefully lifted you off the pistil, giving one last drag within your walls.

The bloom inside your mouth slowly dragged itself out, making you whine in protest. The vines carefully laid you down at the foot of their roots, arranging your body in a comfortable position. The vines slowly retreated from your body. They lazily moved about, sometimes knocking into each other in a way that was almost comical. Their movements seemed lazy, almost like it too was spent. 

As the last vine left your skin, it caressed your cheek. Within you some affection of your own seemed to bloom. The haze that was in your mind was starting to dull, and replaced itself with the need to rest. Your heavy eyes closed and you gave into sleep.

***

You awoke without opening your eyes. You could feel that the curving mound of roots you’d been sleeping on had been replaced with fluffy grass and soil. The smell of freshly tilled earth flooded your nose, and you jolted upright, eyes wide.

The grove was quiet, and empty of the Fawning Rose. All that was left behind was you, the upturned soil it had left behind, and light dusting of pink pollen on the trees. Even the sweet pastry-like smell had left the grove.

You looked down at your naked, sore body and groaned. You could see a trail of bruises from where the vines had gripped you, along with dried out nectar and tons of pink pollen. Your stomach puffed out a bit more than normal, meaning all of this had NOT been a dream. Much to your surprise, nothing hurt though. Your body felt great, healthily spent like you had just run a marathon. Considering how hard you had been working there should have been some pain, but there wasn’t. Just the pleasant pressure of the seedpods against your insides.You recall the conversation with the shop owner at the tavern. Looks like this is the flower's healing abilities at work.

You continued to search around the grove. Your clothes were still in shreds on the forest floor, but your bag was safely tucked under one of the trees the flower had rested its vines in. With some effort, you managed to get yourself off the ground to pick it up, waddling the whole way. 

The pollen was still working its magic on you, but you guessed you had been exposed to it long enough to build a slight tolerance. Or maybe the growing rage within you was doing the trick. You pulled out one of the many glass bottles, and a silver knife. You went to work, scraping the dried nectar and pollen off your body, into the jars.

I’m gonna charge that asshole so much money, his kids will be poor. You seethed as you spent hours getting your money's worth off of every plane of your body. You’d have to birth those seed pods later too. Your insides grew warm at the thought. 

You tried not to think about how you were going to have to walk home naked, where you’d been and what you’d been doing laid bare upon your skin. It’d be free advertising tho, you tried to reason. 

You'd make a killing. Aphrodisiacs were rare, and extremely expensive, especially to a crowd of immortals. I think I'll sell these seed pods on my own though. You smiled. 

You’d make sure to be properly prepared the next time you went into the wilds.

Might do a part two, maybe with slimes next time? Also sorry about any switching of tenses, I have a hard time with that! Hope you guys enjoyed!

[rxnursing]

Service is provided in the home or other place of residence, such as assisted-living facility. Care is always patient-driven, responsive to their personal wishes and preferences. A major goal is optimal comfort and pain-control for the individual, while keeping the patient as alert and interactive as possible.

[valleyofgays]

Behind the Temple of the Forest Elder, there is a grove filled with golden flowers

[galacticgraffiti]

✿⋅ Oh, to be Alone with You ⋅✿

NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI

Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 2.6k Descriptors: I try my best to write inclusively. Reader uses she/her pronouns and is mentioned in her physicality but not described in detail. If anything escaped me, please let me know! Sorry I couldn't make this more gender neutral, but since this fic is a gift to @naariel I thought I'd use her pronouns. Warnings: dirty daydreams, yearning, lusting after someone, male masturbation, dirty talk, fantasy of PiV sex within the daydream, bath sex, this is written from Halsin's POV

⋆⋅ Inspired by this insane artwork by @naariel ⋅⋆

Author's note: I've been pondering, rotating and marinating this artwork in my mind for WEEKS. It haunts me in the best possible way and I am so happy Naariel gave me permission to reference her art! If you are not already following her, you definitely should - her skill and talent are infinite.

Masterlist ⋆ If you prefer AO3

───── ⋆⋅✿⋅⋆ ─────

Oh, to be Alone with You

Halsin sighs when he finally sits down, long limbs sprawling on the too-small chair that can barely contain him.

Chairs. What superfluous oddities, where a big tree stump might have sufficed. If one has to make them at all, why not at least make them comfortable? Why not sit in the meadows, why not find a place to lay where the sun has warmed a rock that has been washed and polished by the rain? But no, the rules of the city demand he be contained within four walls instead of roaming free, they demand he bathe in a wooden tub instead of out in the wilds, they demand he wear clothes and be polite to people even as they trample the Oak Father’s creations beneath their boots without even stopping to look and enjoy nature’s gifts.

Halsin shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off the oncoming headache. It has been a long day and he is so tired. A long week. A long few weeks, if he is being honest with himself. In all these centuries, times have been- well-  rough, to say the least. But whatever haunts the Sword Coast now… it’s different. Bigger than the invasions of Goblins across the land, bigger than the Shadow druids, bigger even than the Shadow Curse that has occupied Halsin’s every waking hour for nigh on one hundred years.

At least, Thaniel and Oliver have been reunited, some life returning to the lands as it always should have been. A victory, chased for so long, tasting sweet only for a moment before the stale urgency of the matter at hand had seeped back into Halsin’s mind: Mindflayers infecting innocents, magic-infused tadpoles, an Elder Brain… There are too many battles to be fought, and not one of them to be won.

Halsin presses his lips together and tries to banish the dark thoughts from his mind. There are some good things that have come out of this: They have not lost a fight yet, and his newfound companions are… stimulating, to say the least. Fighting alongside them has been a joy and a privilege - watching their blades sear, their magic erupt, their arrows pierce their targets as the bear Halsin rips through flesh and bone. The fighting is necessary, and his companions are more skilled than he could have ever wished for. This day may have been hard, but it was successful nonetheless, and now he is here, freshly bathed and ready to find some rest for the night. If only it could be under the stars, far outside the city walls, he would almost call himself happy. Instead, he must bed down alone, encased by  too many walls and a too-small bed frame.

Halsin misses the smell of grass that has not been trampled by hundreds of boot-clad feet, he misses the feeling of bark against his fur, he misses his wildshape and trodding through calm forests instead of bloodied battlefields. He misses air that is crisp and clean and doesn't smell of artificially molten metals. He misses the Grove, he misses Thaniel and he misses the woods. The city has been forsaken by Silvanus, and even if this place is a small oasis of nature, it is not the same as being out among the Oak Father’s creations.

He cracks his neck, his hair tickling his collarbones. Halsin curses quietly to himself, pushing a curl behind his ear. He needs to cut his hair - it’s getting too long. And he needs to braid it again, his plaits are all out of sorts. It might be a hassle to do it without a mirror- but maybe he could ask-

No.

Shaking his head as if to will the thought away, he slumps into the discomfort of the chair a little more.

No, he shouldn't ask her anything. Nothing that would involve her hands on him, at least. Certainly not her fingers buried in his hair, tugging softly, her voice gently commanding that he tilt his head a different way. He can’t ask for that. It would only lead to him asking for more:

More of her hands on him, more of her skin against his, more than innocent touches and whispered goodnights across the campfire. He would ask for everything: To bury himself inside her until the world fades away, to devour her until she is slick with sweat from the pleasure he brings her. To be the keeper of her heart, just as he yearns for her to be the keeper of his.

Halsin can feel the familiar tightness in his back as the golden shimmer of his wildshape travels up to his shoulder blades. One thought of her, and already the bear stirs.

He remembers everything that happened today, even as he tries so hard to think of something else:

He remembers the way she smells, of sweet berries, blood and leather. He remembers her looking up at him, as her fingers clutch her weapon tightly. He remembers the fire in her eyes after the slaughter, the glow in her cheeks when she turned around to look at him and found only the bear. He remembers how she smiled at him, even after all that violence, a smile like the sinking sun, bloodied and red, but more beautiful than he could ever have dreamed up.

And as the day progressed: Her arm bumping into his, her head tilting up when she asked him a question and wanted to read his expression. How her hands slipped around him to reach for some food at the campfire earlier when they rested. Her sweet breath on his face and a mumbled excuse when she walked into him, still drowsy with sleep. And all Halsin wanted to do was pull her into his lap and bury his nose in the crook of her neck and forget about the world, forget about everyone watching, and have her, right then, in that moment. Have her all to himself, make her his very own. To feel her around him, to show her the depth of his affection, the desperation of his desire, the magnitude of his commitment.

All he wanted in that moment - all he still wants - is to touch her, to feel her in ways that he cannot ask for because he is scared she will not want the same thing he does. Halsin wants to lick the sweat off her skin, he wants to be buried between her thighs whenever they can steal away, even for a few minutes, he wants her taste on his tongue when he fights, and to wrap himself around her when they sleep.

The force of his own thoughts makes Halsin shudder, glowing desire stirring deep in his belly.

Her tongue in his mouth, his hands on her skin: How soft she would be against him. How wonderful to hear her voice break when she cries out for him, how she would taste if he could lick her off his fingers, the honey of her thighs, the salt of her sweat. He would give anything to know the expression on her face when she is lost to mindless bliss- he would give everything to know that he is the cause of it.

A low moan escapes his throat then, and Halsin presses his lips together when his mind returns from memory and sweet imagination to this house in the midst of a bustling city. This is not nature, where he can do what pleases him when it pleases him. No, the city - ‘civilisation’ as they call it - comes with rules, expectations, limitations.

He is in someone else’s home, exhausted from the day, the blood barely washed off his skin. And yet, all he can think about is… her. All he can feel is the constriction of his clothing, the confinement of leather where he longs to be touched. He wants to shed like the bear sheds his fur after the winter, he wants to feel free again.

Halsin hums, breathing deeply, willing away the golden sparks of his wildshape that dance along his fingertips. He listens intently, fingers dancing across his thighs, drumming an impatient rhythm.

Nothing in the house stirs. Maybe they are all gone still, running their errands, finding bath houses, visiting old friends and merchants they used to know before they return here for a long night’s rest. Maybe Halsin can have a small pocket of time to himself. Time to dream himself away, to give in to the desire he has harboured for so long.

Maybe… he could use this opportunity to release some of that tension that has settled deep in his belly. Refocus his attention. Maybe it’ll be for the best- not to think of her constantly anymore, not of her smell, or the colour of her eyes, of the way her fingers linger on his for a moment too long whenever they touch, or how much he wished they could have bathed together when he sank into the tub earlier that night.

The city has many downsides, but baths are one of the few things to enjoy. Hot springs are wonderful, but few and far between. Nature provides: The bear does not mind the coldness of a stream in the woods, or the iciness of a mountain lake. But there is nothing like a steaming bath to help prevent the sore ache that settles in his bones after a fight.

If only it was acceptable to ask her if she would join him. If only it had been her hands washing dirt and grime and blood from his skin, brushing his hair, kneading tired muscles, her hands much smaller than his, but strong and determined. Loving.

Halsin lets his head fall back, spine cracking as he settles in the small, uncomfortable chair, spreading his legs to cup his hardening cock. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine it…

She glistens in the dim light, thin streams of water trickling down her skin when she emerges from the bath, her lashes stuck together as she beams at him.

“Mhh, we should have done this ages ago!”

“I could not agree more, my heart.” Halsin loves seeing her like this. She looks happy, like she has not a care in the world.

She crawls up into his lap, settling on him, her thighs bracketing his. Her hands run across his chest, lathering him in soap that smells of lavender and thyme. Halsin’s heart is beating in his throat when she leans in to kiss his collarbone, her lips soft, her hair smelling of smoke and flowers as it always does.

Desire surges inside him, crackling like lightning in his veins, and he sends the bear away, far away. This is a moment he wants for himself: Skin against skin, tongues exploring, hands intertwined. This is no place for fangs and claws, not tonight. Halsin unlaces his trousers with steady fingers, though even those few seconds seem unbearable to him. When his hand finally wraps around his cock, he breathes a sigh of relief, only to feel dissatisfied moments after. He wants her hands, her eyes on him, her voice dripping with lust. For now, his imagination will have to do.

He dreams himself back to the bath, thinking of all he could have had, if he had only had the courage to ask.

Her skin is burning hot against his, her fingers leave a flaming trail wherever she touches him.

“Is this alright, my love?” Her voice is full of concern and affection, as it always is when she asks about his comfort and well-being.

“More than alright.” Halsin’s breaths grow shaky when she moves her hips, shallowly grinding down against him. “Gods, I want to-”

“Mhhm?” There is a curious twinkle in her eye. “What is it you want? Tell me. I’m sure I could make your dreams come true.”

Halsin shifts when the wooden backing of the chair digs into his back as he bucks his hips, fucking into his hand that is wrapped around his cock - a poor substitution for what - for who - he really wants.

A growl rings out in the empty room when he closes his eyes and imagines her again.

Her thighs look so lovely, spread wide so he can fit between them. She smells of the bath salts and of herself, and her voice talks to him through the thick fog of his desire.

“I know what you want, don’t I, bear? I’ll take such good care of you if you let me. I’ll make sure you don’t even have to ask for it. I’ll let you taste me, whenever you want- wherever you want. I’ll help you focus- you can focus on me, can’t you? There you go…”

Halsin is panting, his hand moving faster.

She feels good, so good when she sinks down on him, wet with arousal and so willing to take him.

“You, little flower, are the jewel of nature’s creation,” he mumbles. “You are all I could ever want and more. I want to taste you on my tongue, always- for there to never be a day where I won’t know the way you drip for me- for you to never go a day without being satisfied, without feeling loved and cared for. Your happiness is all I want- your ecstasy all I desire. Let me take care of you.”

She moans, her head falling back as she starts to roll her hips, taking him deeper and deeper with each stroke.

“I’ll take care of you as you do of me,” she whispers. “I’ll make sure to provide for you all you could ever need or want. You give and give, let me give you everything I am in return. Be selfish, bear. Take what you want, swallow me whole, devour me without worrying whether it’s too much. I want you to. Mark me- make me yours. Tell the whole world I belong to you, whichever way you desire.”

Her movements are desperate now, her words only sighs and moans, breathless as she buries her head against his shoulder. Halsin inhales the scent of her hair, sinks into her words as the fog of lust that has settled on his brain grows thicker and heavier, until there is not a thought left on his mind but her.

“Halsin-” Gods, his name sounds so sweet off her tongue. “Halsin, I want you to fill me. Please- please, I want to feel full with you, today and every day you’ll fucking let me. I want to fight knowing you are still dripping down my thighs, I want to kiss you under the stars and know I’ll never be without you again.”

The curses that are falling from his lips are ungodly, but Halsin does not care. He is desperate now, mouth open as he calls her name and thinks of the words he wishes he could hear her say.

“Come for me, bear. Come inside me, lay claim to me as only you ever could- f-fuck- make me yours- please- Halsin, I’m yours, I’m yours and yours and yours, as long as you’ll have me- forever if you want to-”

With a cry of her name on his lips, Halsin gives in to pleasure and lets himself be overtaken by a wave of bliss. His thighs tremble as he spills over his hand, sticky warmth dripping from his fingers. He does not open his eyes. Not yet. He wants to stay in the fantasy just a moment longer.

“Halsin, I-”

His eyes open, blood rushing to his cheeks as he returns to the real world and finds her standing in the doorway.

I'm going fucking feral. Running into the woods hoping to find him there, who's with me -

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[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."

[cuttleimagines]

𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚏𝚏 𝚊 𝙳𝚞𝚌𝚔'𝚜 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔 || Halsin

Summary: 𝚃𝚊𝚟 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚒𝚗 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚞r𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Characters: Halsin, Shadowheart, Astarion, Tav

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, contains sexual content, swearing, mentions of alcohol and body gore, porn with plot, smut with fluff, unprotected water sex, tav has lady parts but no mention of feminine or masculine pronouns, no use of y/n bc yucky, voice kink if you squint, elven Halsin/no wild shape during it

word count: 6.54k 🐻

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"Be honest... What do you think of the new look?"

Your eyes widened at the display. Shadowheart stood before you, her hair platinum white. You noticed how her braid cascaded down her back with an elegance that reminded you of the woman you've grown to befriend. You smiled. This was who she was.

 "I love it. It's gorgeous." Your voice came out gentle but sincere, loving the way it complimented the faint color of her cheeks and eyes. She gave a shy smile in return, averting her gaze. “Listen, I need to ask you about something, whenever you have the time. I know you've had an... eventful evening. But it's important to me. You're also the only person I can really ask this kind of thing to."

Your eyebrows furrowed. You know from experience that one wrong word can send Shadowheart the wrong message, the wrong idea. You take a long pause as you debate on what direction to take this, but much to your surprise, Shadowheart doesn't seem off-put by your hesitation, rather, she welcomes it.

You gesture to the fireside where the bedrolls lay, a determined twinkle in your eye. She follows.

The night air chilled the skin on your arms, crickets singing in the grass. It was as though you and Shadowheart were isolated in this moment, the moonlight shining down on her pale features. Although the night was cold, the warmth from the flame took away your goosebumps. You threw a nearby branch into the flame, watching it engulf and build the fire to increase Shadowheart's warmth.

"Thank you." She sighed, her muscles relaxing under the heat of the fire. "I'd... like to know what the next steps are. In regards to when we reach Baldur's Gate.” “Your parents, for one. Cazador, for two, saving the Duke, fucking up Gortash, taking down the Absolute, and getting rid of our tadpoles.” You spoke, almost without wasting a breath; as if you were reading off a list.

“Exactly my point.” Shadowheart shifted, her back straightened as she sat up. “All of those are hopes. I applaud your optimism but we don’t have a plan; a fully, laid out plan that we would follow and that scares me.” 

That made you grin, a little amused at her worries. “When have we ever had a plan? We went from looking for a healer to going against an Elder Brain. All we knew was we didn’t want these in our heads.” Your tadpole squirmed in your head, in recognition of Shadowheart’s, making her grimace. 

“I don’t need to be reminded.” She shivered, letting her chin fall onto her hand with an exasperated sigh. “It just felt like we had one when we trekked the Shadow-cursed lands, or when we went to the Tiefling grove. We knew where to go next, and who to talk to. I felt safe and like I was headed in a guaranteed path with Lady Shar, but now…” She trailed off, averting her gaze once more.

Your eyes softened. You couldn’t imagine what Shadowheart was going through, and that was the worst part of this conversation. Shadowheart lost everything she thought she knew. The most important part of herself was ripped from her. Of course she’d feel lost, blinded to what was in store for her. 

Your tongue felt tied. For once in your role as the camp leader, you didn’t know what to say, or what advice to give. 

Come on, say something. Your friend needs comfort, it’s your job to keep morale. Why can’t you think of something helpful?

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” Shadowheart let out an exasperated, lightly sardonic laugh, standing to her feet. Despite her plight, she still held onto her sense of humor. You admired that. 

“Convincing me to become independent of myself, going against everything I was taught. Everything I thought I wanted. I wouldn’t be here if not for you.” 

She meant to tease you, judging by the playful smirk on her lips, but all you felt was the pit in your stomach. You didn’t doubt that you made the right decision, but it sucked that you didn’t know how to help Shadowheart in the aftermath. Before you had another chance to offer her a kind word, she chuckled and shook her head, offering you a small smile. 

“Let’s sleep on this. If you’re convinced we’ve been this lost the whole time, I trust you. That’s not an easy feat, by the way.” She winked, walking back to her tent, leaving you sitting by the fire. Despite the warmth, you still felt the chill on your spine. 

Before you had the chance to catch your breath, you heard a familiar smooth voice call your name, beckoning you to his tent. Without missing a beat, you stood to your feet, walking towards him.

Astarion’s fangs shined under the pale moonlight as he grinned at you, a goblet of red wine in his hand. 

“There’s my favorite traveling companion.” He greeted with a purr, his slightly slurred, honeyed words catching your attention. He wanted something. “Won’t you have a drink with me? Our humble leader must be tired, tending to the other lost souls in our little band of misfits.”

“I don’t think I can drink after what happened, if I’m honest.” You dismissed, your brain still conjuring the image of Ketheric Thorm’s beaten-up corpse in the Illithid colony, his mouth hanging open as the soul left his body. You shivered. “I’m surprised you’re drinking tonight. We’re heading closer to Cazador tomorrow.” 

Astarion frowned, disappointed when you didn’t humor him. “Darling, that’s precisely the reason why I’m drinking. I thought you were smarter than that.”

“I’m just worried, is all. If you’re– gonna be in the right mental state for that kind of thing.”

He rolled his eyes, swishing the red liquid around in his goblet, staying silent. Truth is, he wasn’t in the right mental state. He didn’t think he ever would be. He was terrified, hoping that the adventure would be easier with some alcohol in his system. Instead, it just made him sadder, and more emotional. More irate. His lip twitched when you mentioned you were worried about him. 

“You’re a sweetheart for worrying your pretty head over me. But I didn’t call you over here to coddle me.” He started, taking another smooth sip of his wine, letting it run down his throat with its comforting warmth. The kind of warmth a night of indulgence could never give to him. 

“I want to know your opinion about my stance on the ritual. You know I’ve considered taking his place, right?” His eyebrows narrowed, leaning forward a little to try and get a read on your expressions. 

You felt the same as you did with Shadowheart. That sinking feeling that you could say something wrong here, and ruin his perception of you. 

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been… thinking on it.” You admitted with a long breath, really wishing you could run away right now. You weren’t in the right headspace, not focused or wise as you usually were. 

“And?” He pressed further. 

…

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

“...What? Why not?” Astarion’s eyebrow raised, his tone slow and careful. And suddenly, your heart began to pound, your mind felt… clearer. You knew exactly what to say. So, you didn’t hesitate.

“You’re throwing away lives. I know they’re dead, I know they’re vampires and the public probably won’t waste too much time grieving. But you’ve forgotten who you are.” 

His gaze darkened. Not at your dismissal of his idea, but at the gall you have. The gall you have to act like you’re smarter, wiser than he is. You must think you’re so much more put-together than him, huh?

“You’ll have lost everything you’ve worked for. You’ll get to lay in the sun again but at what cost? Your dignity will be gone, and your relationships with the people who love you will be gone. You’ll lose sight of yourself.” You chuckled, almost in disbelief at the fact that you need to even say this. “You’ll be exactly like the man you’re trying so hard to get away from.” 

“I will never be like Cazador.” 

“Really? Because if you go through with this… I… I don’t even think I’ll be able to tell you apart.”

He’s glaring at you, not saying a word, fighting the urge to spill his drink on you for even going that far. 

Amid this silence, you begin thinking back. Remembering your words, and your mind lurched with regret. You shouldn’t have said that, gone that far. Especially when he was already so vulnerable. So fragile. 

“Astarion-”

“Just leave. Let me drink in peace.”

His calm, firm tone terrified you. He could’ve stabbed you right there. Could’ve sucked every drop of blood out of your neck until you were an empty husk of a person on the floor, maybe screamed in your face. Instead, he sipped more wine in his goblet, too disgusted to even look at you anymore. 

You felt blinding hot tears form in your eyes, your throat beginning to close as you tried to hide your face from him. Act like you didn’t want the earth to swallow you whole. 

“Sleep well.” You rasped out, your voice cracking under the heavy weight you felt in your chest. 

The camp was even quieter than before as you stepped towards your tent. You could hear the fish swimming in the nearby lakeside, peaceful and unaware of the horrors on the surface. Sitting on your bedroll, you prepared for a sleepless night. 

…

The morning air was biting, clinging to the hairs on your arms as you let the sounds of the water against the rocks fill your senses. You decided to leave with the rest of the party around highsun, leaving you just the right amount of time to think on the events of last night. 

Why was leadership so difficult last night? You were usually so alert, and dominant, commanding the attention of all who surrounded you, but Shadowheart was right. 

You were lost; aimlessly wandering for someone, something to guide you in the right direction. You weren't a leader. It was foolish to think of yourself in that way. To think you could be a leader. How silly of you. 

Maybe you could run away. Perhaps they'd be better off without you. Halsin or Wyll could take the reigns. Maybe Karlach. She has the soul for it, the passion. 

You hugged your knees to your chest, closing your eyes. Focusing on the water. Trying desperately to focus on the water instead of the thoughts that threatened to consume you from the inside out. 

From the trees behind your figure, you heard a low grunt, along with a scratch against tree bark, and a faint smell of honeycomb. You looked towards the noise, standing to your feet. As you stepped closer, watching your step, you noticed a flicker of brown fur in the depths of the bushes and leaves. 

"Halsin?" You guessed in a quick whisper, hoping it wasn't a typical cave bear or a druid you didn't know. Your hand moved to the clasp on your hip where your dagger lay, holding your breath. 

The bear looked at you when you called its name, its eyes twinkling with recognition. A bright light surrounded it, blinding it for a quick second before slowly fading as Halsin returned to his normal form. 

“You startled me. What are you doing up so early?” His eyes were wide, a light pink across his cheeks at the sight of you in the glow of the morning sun. When your expression grew hesitant, he stepped closer. 

“I had a rough night. It’s nothing to fuss over.” Your words came out unsure as if you didn’t know if it was wise to downplay your status to one of the wisest members of your troop or not. By the way his eyebrows narrowed down at you in disapproval, you figured the answer was clear. 

“I’m honored to fuss over you, my friend.” His sentences were sweet, laced with warm, smooth honey that coated your worries and anxieties whenever he spoke. He had that effect on you. Perhaps it was his level-headed nature of being an arch-druid; being firm but caring. Or perhaps, you just got lucky. “Nothing that you could say would hinder my respect for you.”

He paused, as if considering his words, before shaking his head in dismissal. “Okay, there are some instances, but the probability of that is extremely low. You have nothing to fear.”

You laughed a little, relaxed in the proximity between the both of you. Halsin gestured to the lakeside where you previously were with a smile. “Come, sit with me.” 

The morning air felt chilling once more. You wanted to tell him what you were feeling, but you couldn’t find the words for it. So, instead, you just decided to tell him what happened.

“I just… froze up last night. Shadowheart was feeling some anxiety over what the next step is, or if we’re just going in blindly.” You began, staring off into the soft ripples of the lake water. “I mean, I just feel so terrible for her. Devoting your entire self to someone, a goddess who didn’t deserve it. She must feel so empty.” Halsin frowned at your words, giving a silent agreement as he continued listening.

 “I wanted to comfort her, wanted to…” You paused as you stumbled, finding the right words to say. You still felt like you were walking on eggshells. Even though Halsin’s comforting presence was right next to you. “Let her know that I’d be here for her, no matter what.”

“And you… didn’t say that?”

“No. All I could say was how sorry I was. Made her feel like she had to comfort me instead.” 

You were mentally punching yourself while recalling the events of last night, and suddenly, your words began to flow out like a tidal wave being held back by a cracking dam.

“And immediately after, I don’t know why, maybe the divine fucking hates me, but I got in a fight with Astarion. I just got on his case when he didn’t ask for it. He didn’t need me lecturing him on my superior high horse. I could’ve handled it so much better, could’ve… done anything, but I didn’t,” you gave up on coming up with the words for how you were feeling, your head in your hands as you tried to ease the ache in your heart. 

Halsin stayed quiet, despite having so much he wanted to say to you. He knew you had more brewing. 

“I just don’t think I’m as cut out for this as everyone thinks I am.” Your tone was weak, hurt as if one more blow to your confidence would put you straight into Avernus.

 “Hey, hey–” Halsin began, but before he could get a word out, you let out a dry chuckle, rolling your eyes. “You’d be so much better at this fucking leader thing. Karlach, Wyll. Even Scratch could do a better job–” “Hey, that’s enough.” Halsin spoke firmly, his stare piercing. 

You shrunk, embarrassed as Halsin rebuked your self-deprecating language. Despite it, you didn’t feel like you lied.

“Listen, I can handle a lot. I’m a patient man, but when you spread lies about the people I respect and love, that’s where I draw the line.” Halsin began, scooting closer to you so you had to look him in the eye. “Have you forgotten everything you’ve accomplished, how far you’ve come, the sheer number of people who owe you their lives?” 

A dark heat spreads across your cheeks. You didn’t mean to fish for compliments like this.

“The truth is” He pointed behind the both of you, towards camp. “None of those people would be where they are today without you. I’ll be the first to admit I also happen to fit in that category. Without a shadow of a doubt.”

He spoke earnestly, taking a quick breath before gently taking your hand in his. His skin felt rough, likely from calluses and scratches that being an outdoorsy man gave him. Despite how it felt, you felt safe in his gentle hold. “It feels like I owe every inch of myself to you. I don’t exaggerate when I say that.” His voice lowered in volume and pitch as he spoke to you, his eyes gazing into yours. He wanted you to let him in, let him love you.

You clung onto every word that left his lips in a speechless awe, your focus glued to the firm, but desperate look that he gave you. He was begging you to hear his words, but you still couldn’t shake the insecurity that burdened you so. 

“I just don’t know what you all see in me.” Your voice was small, mirroring how you felt under Halsin’s hard gaze. Suddenly, his look softened, letting out a small laugh. 

“You think every good leader is secure in themselves?”

“Well, yeah. You can’t be a good leader, commanding the confidence of your peers without being in tune with your abilities.”

Halsin listened, before laying on his stomach on the sand. “Let me tell you a secret. Something I’ve never told a soul.” He started, a smile on his face. Your eyes widened in curiosity, unconsciously leaning closer to Halsin’s figure.

He smiled wider. “Despite popular belief, I’ve made a mistake before.”

You blushed, embarrassed at how simple his words were. He laughed, leaning back up at you. 

“You, my dear, need to cut yourself some slack. I know I’m horrible at that, but trust me when I say it will make you feel better. Focusing on what you could’ve done, what you could’ve said won’t make the recovery of your mistakes easier.”

He sat up again, nodding his head towards the lake. “Life flows, just like the water in front of us. Filled with waves moving up and down with the tide. You can’t be perfect. There will be days when your words will have empty meanings, or you won’t say the right thing. But that’s the best part of learning. When you fall…” 

Halsin stands, offering you a hand. You take it. 

“You get up again. And do better the next time you try.” 

There you go, speechless again. Except this time, you were admiring him. The creases in his eyes when he smiled at you, the way his hand felt, protectively encasing yours. Being this close to him, you saw the waves in his brunette hair, the beautiful wrinkles in his skin, the strong biceps that you wished would hold you close.

For a few seconds, he drinks in the awkward silence of this moment, staring into your hypnotic eyes that threaten to consume his soul. The moment is gone when a small chuckle escapes him, and he looks towards the calm waters of the lake once more.

“Do you know what helps me when my mind wanders to dark places?” Halsin hummed. Your eyebrow raised. 

“Swimming” He answered in a slow exhale, recalling treasured memories of his youth, swimming beside waterfalls and rushing river rapids. “Nothing compares to the natural cold waters against aching skin to clear the mind. I’d be happy to join you, if you’ll humor me.” 

You thought about it for a moment. How long has it been since you’ve properly gone swimming, or even bathed for that matter? How long has it been since you’ve taken time for yourself to relax and let your mind rest? The memory of soft, warm cloth towels against your damp skin, that refreshing feeling of being squeaky clean and laying in the warmth of the sun as it dried your skin felt like a blur. 

“Gods, I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve done something of that caliber.” You breathed out, realizing what a toll this adventure had taken on you, the overwhelming weight lying on your shoulders. 

“Maybe I could use a moment of respite.”

Halsin smiled, a warm satisfied smile. He felt honored to be able to give this to you. Every passing moment, he could swear he saw you working, rarely relaxed and laughing for the hell of it. He’d admit that he was a workaholic, but he knew when breaks were necessary. He wanted to pass that knowledge to you. He wanted to introduce you to the warm feeling of being nestled in Silvanus’s hand, with only the tranquil scent of rain and lavender filling your senses. 

“I’ll look away as you undress. Let me know whenever you’re ready and we’ll jump in.” Halsin winked, turning his broad back towards you to give you a moment of privacy. 

As you began to strip down, you considered what you were about to do. Swimming with Halsin was something you didn’t know you wanted this badly. Getting a moment where nobody needed or wanted anything of you, it made your heartbeat spike.

Clothes fell down the skin of your body onto the grass before you were even able to process the loud ‘splash!’ from the water beneath you. As you turned your head quickly to the source, a happy laugh escaped Halsin as he rose to the top of the water, shaking the water out of his long hair like a dog. As he noticed your startled expression, his excited eyes softened, a big apologetic smile on his face for scaring you. “I couldn’t resist!” He laughed, raising his arms out of the lake and gesturing for you to join him. “Come on in! The water’s heavenly!”

You couldn’t help but feel giddy at the sight, cool, glistening waters, having fun, letting loose. Something you haven’t even thought about doing for weeks, months, perhaps. You’ve stopped keeping track of how long it’s been since you’ve felt the comfort of good food, a warm bed, the comfort of laying in the arms of another.

As you jump in, the sharp coldness of the waters sting your skin, forcing a sharp gasp out of your throat once you rise to the surface of the waters. “You call this heavenly–?” You gasp out as Halsin barks out a laugh. “Of course! Cold waters cleanse the skin, hot waters soothe it. If you want to be truly relaxed after a long day, cold waters are the remedy.”

Gods, you knew he was right. But damn, if your lungs didn’t clench at the frigid lake waters around you.

“I could warm you a little, if you’re comfortable with that. It may be faster than swimming around like a madman trying to get the shivers out,” although a blush reddened the tips of his ears, dusting the surface of his cheeks, he had an earnest smile on his face, wanting you to have a good time with him.

You nod. Quickly. Anything sounds better than being alone, shivering while kicking your legs to keep yourself afloat.

His warm body pressed against yours as you ached for closeness. His stomach’s rise and fall with his breathing lost its calm rhythm when you inched even closer to him. Your skin felt like velvet against his, and his hands shook for a split second as he held you in the waters.

“There, plenty of warmth,” He chuckled. However, this wasn’t a typical Halsin chuckle. It was shaky, quieter. The way he held you in his strong hands was tighter than his usual hugs, and his breaths were faint, both in volume and length.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was quiet, a small trace of worry, and before he could speak, he averted his gaze, a hesitant look on his face. He paused for a few seconds, then spoke, out of necessity.

“I–have a confession to make,” Halsin let go of you, but maintained his closeness. “I wasn’t completely honest regarding my motive for bringing you out into these waters with me,”

“What’s wrong? Have you been struggling too? Halsin, you know you can tell me anything.”

He let out a humored laugh, but you could still sense the apprehension laced in it.

“You could say that. I’ve been fighting demons, my friend, and they’re stubborn with me,” He began, aching to touch you again, but holding himself back so as to not make you uncomfortable. “Ever since you saved Thaniel, saved nature, I’ve–I’ve longed to have you, whether that be physical or not. I don’t wish to merely fight at your side, laughing beside the campfire only to retire to our separate tents after. I want to find rest beside you; retire after a long day underneath the calmness of night with you.”

Your heart began to pound, your cheeks flushed. Halsin seemed passionate, talking about the many lovers he’d taken before you both had met and the long life of desire and freedom he had. You never thought he’d want you to share in it. Halsin took your stunned silence as an invitation to express himself a little more, confess everything he’d been holding back.

“I’m in your debt, you inspire me more than words can do justice, and for that reason, I don’t want to ruin the bond we share as equals. If you do not feel the same way, we can let this matter rest, return to camp, and never speak of this again,” He gently took your hand in his, letting his calloused thumb trace the peaks of your knuckles with his thumb. His eyes fell to where his hand met yours, cradling you like the beautiful flower he saw you as.

“But I must know if one day, I’d have the privilege of sharing in your love, experiencing what it’s like to be bonded with you. If I deny the inevitable any longer, I’ll burst.”

At his words, your heart soared, your mind clouded with passion. The way his hungry hazel eyes bore into yours, fingers twitching at his sides with the carnal urge to hold you close, claim your lips to his.

He shivered as he felt the softness of your hand gently stroke the definition of his arm, watching as it flexed involuntarily to the foreign sensation.

“As long as I get to share in yours.” You whispered, and Halsin couldn’t control the smile that spread across his lips, admiring you again.

“May I?” He asked breathlessly, still wanting to remain respectful of your boundaries, but you could tell, he’d be a kicked puppy if you dared say no to him. You nodded and leaned close to him once more, and he met you right in the middle, his hands finding purchase on your waist.

His lips were softer than imagined, tasting faintly sweet as he pushed a little his weight into the kiss. Although you really only imagined this being a quick, short and sweet exchange, you couldn’t help but lean more into him as his rough hand squeezed at your waist, moving to the small of your back. He let out a deep breath through his nostrils, his lips beginning to move slowly, methodically against yours.

When your fingers met his damp hair, he shivered, gently taking your waist back in his hands as he directed your body back into the waters with him. As you felt the temperature balance once more, comfortable in his protective hold, you began to nip at his lower lip.

You hear a deep groan in the back of his throat as he tightens his grip on you, his self-control beginning to slip away from him with every breathy sigh against his lips. Your legs slowly wrap around his. The warmth from his skin, even under the cool waters, makes your blood run hot.

His chest touches yours, the peaks of breast against chest, and he revels in it. With a start, his lips pull away from yours, and without a word, begin to eagerly press firm kisses down the side of your neck. You move your head to the side to give him more room.

A direct contrast from how they started, his kisses grew vigorous, desperate. His hands ache to touch every inch of your skin. Every curve, every imperfection. He wanted it all in the palms of his hands.

Halsin’s breathing is short as his kisses move further down to your collarbone, quickly growing addicted to the taste of your skin on his lips, his hands dancing across your skin under the waters. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t hold back any further. I—I need you to tell me to stop if that’s what you desire,” he breathed out, his heartbeat pounding with the stress of holding everything back.

The truth is, Halsin’s been craving this. Needing this. Needing you, for far too long by his standards. He’d gladly wait a lifetime for you, but with your warm skin pressed to his, your body being cradled so perfectly in his biceps—it was all making his mind melt.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you admitted with a sigh, fingertips tightening around his shoulders.

Yes, yes. This is what I need. Distract me, prove my self-deprecations wrong.

Halsin hardly needs any egging on in the first place, honestly, as he already has your wet body laying back down on the grass. You whine in the absence of warmth as the cool morning air hits your damp skin once more, but the image of Halsin between your thighs is enough to distract you from the cold.

His hair is damp, his eyes focused as he kisses your navel, the plushness of your thighs. A satisfied grunt leaves him as he runs his tongue along them, the beauty of you mixed with the earth filling his senses.

It doesn’t surprise you that the Druid gets off on the mixed scent and taste of sex and nature, especially not with the proof of being connected mouth-to-clit. His tongue is experienced, due to the many lovers he’s brought to ecstasy in the past, but he’s scarcely had this much desire towards someone. He gives a long, wet swipe of his tongue against your slick, wrapping his lips around the puffy bud up top and sucking against it, flicking his tongue with a rapid eagerness that has you spiraling.

He holds you to his mouth like you���re a means for survival, like he can’t see the colors of the Earth if not for your essence. As the taste of you settles on his tongue, he delves deeper, slurping up the arousal fluid that you’d been seeping out into the cool waters.

Your body begins to shake and stir, not wanting anything to do with an orgasm yet, merely wanting to bask in the moment. Halsin’s face is buried betwixt your thighs, his brown eyes locked on his work, focused and deliberate. His eyebrows splay in contentment. He’d spend an eternity down there if you’d let him.

However, your desperation for praise, his flowery words, caused you to tug your hips towards you, popping them away from the suction of Halsin’s lips. A small chuckle leaves him as he pushes himself out of the water, looming over your body on the cool grass.

He lets out a shaky, excited breath, connecting his lips to yours to show you how you tasted, to convey to you how happy he was to be here with you, after all the stress, turmoil, and victory.

As you disconnect from the kiss, his breath wavered even still, possibly more.

“You’re unbelievable, truly,” he huffs with a small laugh, biting his lip as he pulls you back into the waters with him, giving you small loving pecks on your lips.

“I haven’t done this in so long. It may hurt me.” The warning goes through him, but he simply chuckles, gently positioning himself between your thighs under the water.

“I’m here for you. To support you, to adore you,” He begins, snaking an arm around the curve of your waist to support your body in the comforting waters. “You need not worry, any pain you have, I will mend, with my touch and words.”

Once he sees you nod, his face moves to the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

That’s when it slides in, albeit, not very smoothly. Lake water has never been the best lubricant, but Halsin eases you through. His hands cascade through your hair, giving slow rubs to the back of your neck to distract you with a more pleasant sensation.

“Shh, you feel amazing… Hold on as tight as you need,” Halsin’s grip tightens for a split second or two around the skin of your nape before returning to a comforting looseness just seconds later. “I’m as content as can be at the moment, being like this with you.” His breathy, low voice goes straight to the pit of your stomach, exploding into tiny butterflies that have you reeling, pleading for more.

With soft kisses and flowery praises, your walls begin to finally relax, a siren song to lure Halsin into your depths.

He stays like that for a moment, drinking you in as his hips become flush with yours, under the water. He couldn’t ask to be anywhere else, a wide smile beginning to spread across his lips as his hips begin their slow, languid thrusts.

“You have no idea–” he starts with a smile, his hips beginning to find a consistent rhythm. “--how agonizing this wait has been, looking upon you from afar without even the slightest idea of how beautiful you could be.”

“You didn’t find me beautiful before?” You grin in a small, breathless laugh, eyes locked without waver on his.

“I found you breathtaking. That hasn’t changed…”

His arm, which was wrapped tightly around your midsection, begins to loosen, allowing himself to focus his strength on his movements and keeping you perfectly above water.

“What has changed is the way you feel. Your bare skin, pressed against mine. Just like this.”

As you both move like this, he continues to whisper loving words, breathless “thank you”s, like you’d given him the stars for allowing him to take you so intimately. A symphony of his moans and groans fill your ears as his movements begin to pick up pace.

An overwhelming gust of warmth flows in your abdomen, a blossoming flower of fire that makes your body violently quake and shiver, yet Halsin holds you protectively still, relishing in the fact that he’s the one making you this vulnerable underneath him, and every inch of his focus is on you.

Halsin’s breaths grow vocal now, his arms supporting his weight with every deep and carnal thrust into you. Every movement is calculated, learning every sweet spot and which angles made you feel the most. He savors the sight of your mind-boggling orgasm, the feeling of your fingers grasping at his hair, pulling down at the wet strands for support.

“My heart— my beloved,” He rasps out in the crevice of your neck, feeling himself fall deeper and deeper in love with you with every sloppy, quick thrust against your cervix. His dick practically swims in the glory of your orgasm, your fluid dripping out into the waters from him with every withdrawal. Meanwhile, your mind grew fogged, pussy practically milking him as it clenches with every overstimulation he delivers through his eager movements.

“Gods, do you hear that?” Halsin grunts in your ear, a satisfied smile spread across his lips. He begins to buck his hips with promise to prove his point. The sloshes of the lake water mixed with your labored breathing, raspy moans from the overexertion sound like music to his ears. He turns you over, lifting your lower body out of the water just barely to watch the water splash with every thrust into your sloppy cunt that swallowed him oh-so-perfectly.

One thing about Halsin was that he adored the sound of sex. Not just the moans, although those were a great bonus. No, no. He loved the environmental reaction to love-making. Skin against skin as you indulged him, laying back on the grass as he begins to fuck you just barely over the water, enough to make small splashes with every connection of his hips to the curve of your ass.

“Hahh—Halsin!” You breathe out, biting down onto the meat of your finger to ease the sensitive stimulation. Oh, how he loved hearing his name fall from your lips so carelessly. “Say my name again… Your voice is heavenly…” he speaks with a low mumble, too lost in this rapture to make a proper sentence. His calves tighten as he adjusts the angle to loom over your back, and suddenly flips you over again to look into your eyes as you lay on the grassy ledge. He takes your thigh in hand, right below the curve of your knee, and lifts it up to your chest to get better access to you. The water drips off his stomach, and you now see his body in its full glory as he stares down at you.

The remnants of your slick glimmer against his chin and lips, the curve of his belly brush deliciously against your navel, his damp, long hair dripping down onto your bare body as he fucks into you like a man desperate for salvation, and his deep grunts that leave his throat and straight to your core. Every movement seems to flow in slow motion, and the sounds of his needy, desperate groans in the crook of your neck gave your body enough of an excuse to cum again, but this time, you weren’t alone.

Halsin’s breathing grows louder as his legs begin to spasm from under him, fingers grasping at the Earth for leverage. “You’re close again… Don’t worry. I’m… ngh—right there with you,” His words come out shaky, wavered as his thrusts begin to pick up with a grunt. He moves a little, hoisting your leg up further while turning at an angle to thrust deeper than he already was, making you see stars. You can’t help the floodgates from crashing open as you coat his dick with your cum for a second time.

“Yes–yes… There you are…” He breathes out, a small smile spreading across his lips at the feeling of your release around him, your walls spasming from it all as he gives a harsh, lasting thrust into your core, painting your insides with his seed. You feel a warm shiver run up your spine at the sensation of him filling you up to the brim, bottoming out inside you as his legs shiver a little against yours.

A relieved, satisfied groan sounds at the back of his throat, attempting not to collapse on top of you. “Come to me… My heart.” He whispers, laying on the cool grass, soothing his hot skin. You find solace in his warmth, placing small pecks on his lips to try to make up for how exhausted you are.

“Are you alright? I wasn’t too rough, was I?” His breath comes out wavered, his hands roaming over your body to make sure he didn’t bruise you too much or scratch you. “You were perfect. I’ll be sore for a bit, but I’m alright,” you manage to chuckle out, your chest heaving up and down with the lack of air. “I feel incredible.”

“You deserve to feel that way, love.” Halsin moves up, caressing your body with feathery touches and loving rubs, your ear now pressed to his bicep while he holds your back to his chest. You stay there for a few minutes, basking in the glory of his warmth and embrace.

He lifts his head from the grass to admire your face. “Once we return to camp, I think it would be wise to release your tensions with Shadowheart and Astarion. If we’re to make this trek to the city, we must be connected and in understanding of one another.”

You sigh and nod, but not out of exasperation.

“I will. I’ll make it right. I want to.”

He smiles and sits up, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss.

“Fate has spun itself beautifully to have me end up with an individual like you in my arms.”

You smile, genuinely. In love, and happy. This adventure has taken you down winding, treacherous roads. But the warmth of your companions and peers have brought you and leveled you into who you are. A friend, a lover, a confidante, and a leader.

[gallusrostromegalus]

ok I need elaboration on pretty much all of those bankais that you haven't already talked about but for now i'm probably most curious about ichigo and hanataro? please, a measly few crumbs of context

The short version of Ichigo's sword situation is that he is D'artanigan to Zangetsu's Three displaced-during-the-fuckery-surrounding-his-parent's-meet-cute-slash-manslaughter-thing Musketeers. We got his dad's half-starved family Zanpakuto, The Family Ghost from his Mom's side, and a guy made in an evil instapot that wandered in here on accident and precipitated the whole enfuckening. They are untied in their goal of "Keep Ichigo Alive" but unfortunately they also have a collective IQ of Negative Four.

Reader: Gee Ichigo, why does the author let you have THREE Zanpakuto spirits?

Ichigo: That's nothing! Orihime has SIX!

Ichigo and Orihime's nonsense is connected to how The Almighty operates:)

Meanwhile, short summaries of Unohana and Byakuya's Bankai under the cut:

Unohana:

Minazuki is a sword primarily about the manipulation of flesh- healing injury, making better fighters by pushing the flesh to it's limits- This is a spirit that is distinctly VISCERAL in nature. It has mass. It has a very distinct body.

So it follows that, in order to supply injured patients with blood and drugs and new flesh and everything else, Minazuki is giving up some of her Mass. Consequently, the Stingray form of Minazuki is the SECOND one- she cannot create her elixirs and make new flesh from nothing. First she must FEED.

Which is why Minazuki's liquid format is acidic blood that devours anything organic. It's why Kenpachi!Unohana's bloodthirst was so bloodthirsty: she was literally starving for biomass to complete her sword's two forms and finally put her Soul in Balance.

In the fic, Ukitake is one of a handful of people old enough to remember "Yachiru" Unohana, and until Zaraki's arrival, probably the closest to understanding her. That Unohana and Retsu both understand the horrors of the flesh he lives with every day more intimately than anyone else in his life, and it's the basis of an almost sacred friendship between them. He knows perfectly well where the emergency transfusions and drugs she creates come from, and they have a standing agreement that if he predeceases her, she is to feed his body to Minazuki so he can pay forward at least some of the debt given to him.

He will not be the first of Unohana's friends that have been willingly devoured by her sword.

Byakuya:

Senbonzakura has been with the Kuchiki family for generations, passed from one head of the clan to the next in a sacred ritual that allows the Zanpakuto to bond to its new weilders and grant them the power accumulated with generations.

But for course, everything has it's cost.

Byakuya was not the head of the Kuchiki clan when his father Sojun died prematurely and make Byakuya the orphan heir apparent as an adolescent. He was not the head when he met Hisana in a grove of cherry trees in the middle of harvest, and fell in love with her He was not the head when he had a terrible row with his grandfather Ginrei and the rest of the clan elders about his elopement. He was not the head five years later, when on a cold spring morning before the plum trees had blossomed, Hisana died of a miscarriage.

One week later, when the plum trees bloomed and the cherry trees had budded, Byakuya came to his grandfather, head bowed and heart broken, and agreed to take up the mantle of Clan Head. His soul had already been torn in half, what was another half?

Everything has it's cost, and the price of Senbonzakura's power is the sacrifice of the weilder's own original Zanpakuto spirit, and by transference, the imminent death of the previous head.

He had known this day was coming, ever since his own native Zanpakuto spirit failed to awaken at the academy. At the time, he'd thought it a mercy that the poor thing wouldn't awaken and be aware of being devoured. But now, as he held the tiny, warm body of the spirit out to Senbonzakura, he could only think of the child he never got to hold.

...with Senbonzakura, at least, she'd be at rest with something beautiful that loved her.

Because Senbonzakura loves it's family, and in particular it adores Byakuya. It has, ever since Byakuya fearlessly climbed it's branches as a small boy, since he partook of the sword's fruits as a young man, and now, when Byakuya offered the most precious parts of himself to the sword with a sense of peace and profound trust. And Senbonzakura repays that trust in kind.

The sword's shikai release is the same, or at least similar for all it's wielders, but long-term friends of the family note that that is a LOT MORE blades than the sword ever summoned for Ginrei or any other head.

The Bankai is different every time. Senbonzakura is ready to give Byakuya whatever Bankai he wants immediately, but it's not until after he adopts Rukia and sees her fooling around in the family orchards when she thinks he isn't watching that he realizes the shape it should be.

It's name is "Senbonzakura: Sakura no Kaju-en" and it is beautiful and terrible.

Sakura no Kaju-en requires only that Byakuya pierce the flesh of his enemy or the terrain around him with one or more of his petal-blades. Once in the ground or embedded in flesh, the blade is transformed into a seed and an entire magical cherry tree grows from it, converting the Reishi and spiritual energy around it into its own mass. Since Byakuya is effectively wielding somewhere around 10,000 petal blades in his shikai alone, he can summon up to 10,000 devouring cherry trees, which will radically alter the landscape of battle and blossom into millions and millions of new petal-blades.

That is, unless his foe is unfortunate enough to have the blades penetrate their flesh. Then the trees will devour them as they grow. Even a truly massive opponent like Yammy can be mulched in minutes.

The trees initially blossom almost white, but as his enemies are felled and Senbonzakura drinks, the blooms grow pinker and then redder until they transform into deep crimson fruits.

It's a brutal Bankai, but a beautiful one. When Byakuya looks out upon the blooming landscape and tastes the sweet fruits of his efforts, it brings him peace to know the small, sleeping spirit he had to sacrifice is playing somewhere within, they way he saw Rukia playing in the family orchards that day.

[darielivalyen]

Everbloom: Free | Full game | Cozy Fantasy

Everbloom is a cozy fantasy game set on the idyllic Everbloom Isle, a place where the charm of a simpler life and the warmth of a close-knit community come together. In this tranquil world, you’re invited to slow down, cherish the small moments, and find joy in building connections and creating a space where everyone feels at home.

Your journey centers on the dream of opening a teahouse, an aspiration deeply influenced by your longing for independence and a meaningful life. This dream becomes a reality with the inheritance of your grandmother’s house on Everbloom Isle. Here, in a setting far removed from the bustle of city life and your family’s expectations, you begin the delicate process of building a new life for yourself.

Are you ready to leave behind the monotony and dullness of daily life and build the teahouse of your dreams on Everbloom Isle?

Play as male, female, or nonbinary.

Choose your appearance and personality.

Romance or befriend one of three distinctive characters: a brave knight seeking a new purpose, a mischievous oakling who finds joy in life’s lighter moments, or an enigmatic elf with a complex past, seeking solace and clarity on Everbloom Isle.

Create and customize your own teahouse.

Cultivate and enhance your grandmother’s garden.

Explore Everbloom Isle in search of unique tea saplings.

Interact with a host of quirky characters, from the whimsical Holy Cow and her not-at-all terrible fish choir to giant turtles, winged wolves, and mysterious fernlings.

Follow a lovely little quest from the Holy Cow that will challenge you to build friendships, honor your grandmother’s legacy, and expand your collection of unique teas.

Wordcount

Overall: 220.000. Playthrough: 60.000.

Sir Castian/Dame Castillia Honeycutt

Personality: brave, honorable, old-fashioned, bashful. Blurb: In a land where swords are replaced by teacups, Casti(), a knight accustomed to battles and quests, struggles to find his/her role. Everbloom Isle, with its whimsical ways, challenges him/her to redefine what it means to be a hero. Can you help him/her weave his/her knightly virtues into the fabric of your new home?

Narciso/Narissa Roseblade

Personality: mischievous, lighthearted, adventurous, non-committal. Blurb: Nar()’s presence on Everbloom Isle is like a breeze through the Elder Tree’s leaves–light, unpredictable, and full of life. His/her playful antics and seemingly carefree nature captivate those around him/her. Yet, there’s a depth in his/her eyes suggesting more than just whimsy. Will you be the one who figures out what really inspires his/her eternal dance through the grove?

Ideru/Ideri Nightingale

Personality: calculating, composed, solitary, adaptable. Blurb: Ider() arrives at Everbloom Isle cloaked in an aura of intrigue, his/her quiet nature standing in stark contrast to the isle’s vibrancy. Amidst the isle's welcoming community, his/her enigmatic presence stirs a sense of curiosity. Will you be the one who digs into his/her mysterious past and discovers what brings him/her to Everbloom?

DASHINGDON | ITCH.io | FORUM | TUMBLR

PS: If you're interested in why I decided to release Everbloom for free, you are welcome to visit the forum and look under the 'State of the Game' section. I explained everything there! 😊