#i missed them....

[neatnete]

[redwayfarers]

@galadae your prompt once more isn't processed bc tonglr. sad nero noises. but also they're never getting this together! have some intellis angst + aeran character study

fandom: wayfarer ship: cassander inteus/aeran kellis (intellis) characters: cassander inteus, aeran kellis rating: gen words: 1137 divider credit

prompt: kiss to shut someone up

At first, Aeran doubted that Zenaida would pay them. Cass did too, if his jabs and comments on Dareia were anything other than sheer boredom. But she came through in the end - a promised three thousand crowns each, and they took every last one of them, never to see a Guild Mage again in their lives. 

At least there weren’t any in the middling Coveran village they came to. Cass had insisted. Aeran doesn’t understand what drew him to Covera, but he doesn’t need to. The ease with which Cassander sits and watches the sea in the evenings makes up for all the confusion. Sometimes Aeran sits with him, brings some fruit, and they share it in comfortable silence, hands joined on the rocks. 

It’s been a few months since. A month more than what the locals usually allow. 

“Aren’t you glad we went to Covera?” Cass asks one evening over dinner, in between bites of cheese. “People here don’t give a shit. Everywhere else we would’ve been strays already. Here we just buy meat and cheese and veggies and go fuck in our little cottage and nobody bats an eye.” He picks up a grape and eats it with gusto. “Why didn’t we come to Covera sooner? We wouldn’t have seen Quirinus. But no, you had to arrange that Zenaida thing. Doesn’t matter, right? We’re elves. We can afford to wait months or years. Maybe even a century.” 

Aeran stares. The cheese stares back, as do the grapes and the cooked fish. Cass has always had a long tongue, true, and it is true Aeran did barter with Zenaida while Cass almost died in the Count’s villa and needed surgical attention only she could provide. 

“Nothing to say, Kellis?” Cass says and pushes a grape into Aeran’s mouth. “Eat up. We can afford to eat like fucking kings for once.” 

Aeran has little choice but to obey. 

That evening, as he’s cleaning up, light from a nearby candle catches onto the scar on his shoulder. It’s deep, fresh and mangled, as if just surgically sealed shut, yet there is no puffiness and redness of a new wound. He seems unperturbed by it, and by all accounts, it should hurt. 

“Are you in pain, Songweaver?” Aeran asks and reaches out to run his fingers over it. Cass smiles and shakes his head. 

“Just looks nasty. Otherwise it’s fine.” 

“It’s been months. It shouldn’t be this mangled, Cassander. If you’ve been hiding it from me all this time–” 

Cassander laughs, throaty, loud. The whole cottage echoes with it. When he looks at Aeran, his smile is gummy. “Trust me, I would’ve let you know already.” 

Lies. His Songweaver whines when it’s a cut, but won’t say a thing when it’s something big. Taking care of wounds hurts extra; painkillers have always had less effect on him. 

Cass then sets the broom down and walks over. His shadow is long and dark. His hair adds and expands the leanness of his body until his reflection takes over the whole wall. He’s never seen Theokleia Inteus, and would shoot her on sight if he ever did, but in his mind’s eye, Aeran finally sees why Cassander is his mother’s son. 

He then feels a hand on his shoulder and a pressure of a warm, freckled body against his own. Cass’ lips are on Aeran’s forehead, full and soft. “‘Sides, some wounds never heal. I think you know that. I know that, too. Too many wounds, it’s a fucking miracle we’re able to exist still. But we don’t have anyone to stitch them, do we? We stitch them ourselves.” He then guides Aeran’s hand to the mangled tissue. “And when we do find someone else to do it, they do it so shittily it’s all mangled and ugly.” 

Aeran looks at his feet. His own shoulders are shaking. His eyes are watering. 

“Stitch your own fucking wounds, Kellis. Stop being a coward and running away from that.” 

“What about you?” Aeran bites out. “Don’t tell me you’re this pinnacle of goodness, you asshole, because you’re not. You’re bleeding out left, right and center, for fuck’s sake.” 

“You don’t know half of it,” Cassander’s voice turns rough and raspy. “I’m not making it everyone else’s problem. If they dislike the sight of blood, they can leave.” 

Aeran’s shaking. He refuses to cry, but he’s shaking like a leaf. “Songweaver–” 

Cassander kisses him, rough and hard. “I think you like the sight of blood, though. You’re drenched in it yourself. Clean your own and then we can talk.” 

Aeran wakes to the shifting of the ship. His elven eyesight pierces the darkness around him so suddenly he gasps, like someone held him underwater and is just now letting him breathe. Only sounds reaching his ears are the waves of the Rhesainian ocean and the heaviness of his own breathing, labored and harsh. 

And, well, the rhythmic breathing of another person, sound asleep on Aeran’s chest. 

At some point during the night, Cassander migrated from sleeping next to Aeran’s side to planting himself face first into Aeran’s chest. All Aeran sees is the mess of dark, red curls and the twin points of his ears that peek through. He pokes them on a whim; Cass doesn’t budge. Why would he? He spent the last few hours before exhaustion finally won over crying in Aeran’s arms. It was unwise to take more painkillers, Malsara said, but almost dying is painful. 

At least he gets some respite of it in his sleep. 

That same Cassander shadowed everything in Aeran’s dream. He wipes the sweat off his brow. He’s hot and stuffy and mildly uncomfortable, but he feels less comfortable letting go of Cass now he isn’t this giant, sharp-tongued beast. Instead, he’s smaller and gentler and real. The pressure of his body isn’t oppressive anymore. 

Aeran throws his head back as much as he can and sighs deeply. His hands press against Cass’ body tighter. Cass grumbles and Aeran starts humming a song he heard Cass sing under his breath once or twice. He doesn’t know the words, he doesn’t speak Vestran, but the beat is easy enough to follow. Cass settles again. 

Just a bad dream, Aeran thinks. He doesn’t dare look at Cassander’s wound, bandaged as it is. He doesn’t want to think about his dream, or what it may mean, or why it pops up, or why his stupid head gives those words to Cassander in particular. He’s not harmless by any means, but Aeran refuses to acknowledge that right now, and instead prefers to watch his sleeping, peaceful form. 

Maybe after Velantis is in the dust, he can think about it. In the meantime, he has this. That’s all he can muster to think right now. 

He doesn’t have any other choice. 

[intertexts-moving]

my fucking freaks....

[apendice-chileno]

loved this two, I need them together in more stuff already

[quixoticprince]

Guys I don't think this kindly stranger is all that nice But yeah, if Medic confessed about stealing their souls in the next pages I don't think anyone would really care

Based on this post thread

[plaguedocboi]

We need to go back to using sailing ships full time like immediately. Yes it would take longer to get places but the Aesthetic is unmatched

Like there is nothing sexier hthan this

[officialspec]

my friends……........the crystal germs

[xamitras]

For many of years I had this tradition of drawing Wirt and the beast once a year to see how much I have improved, then depression hit in 2023 and couldn't continue, but it left so really amazing art in the process

[wormy-business]

I saw this question posed on tiktok, but I think Tumblr would really enjoy it too.

If a fae creature offered to give one million dollars for a bone FROM YOUR BODY chosen at random, how many bones would you allow them to take?

Light clarifications; The fae is not the one choosing the bones. The bone is taken at random. Each bone, no matter the size or importance, is worth a full million dollars. You must also declare the exact number first, you can't go bone-by-bone. You either say 2 or you say 10, you can't work your way up to a higher number. The bones are removed instantaneously, and the money is given immediately as well. You will not get in government trouble for acquiring the money.

Tell me in the tags/replies how many bones you'd let the fae take. And as always, reblog for bigger sample size.

[evolutiononthebrain]

this is how the bad boys feels to me

[catmask]

SNAPDEX REPORT: WEEK 1

actually, i guess nows as good a time as any. heres all my pokemon warmups from the past 9 days! i wonder how long i can keep going

[jollymalt]

prodigies of zaun

[bibbysstuff]

They still make me wanna cry ❤️

[frosthetix]

some dudebros: tom hardy must be held at gunpoint to still be doing these sony venom movies

tom hardy: WRITES the movie, PRODUCES the movies, repeatedly states how much venom and eddie means to him, reads all the comics, #1 veddie shipper

[ditzybat]

Fanon Tim, a mysterious super smart hacker bro on the same level of Oracle, who’s also unhinged, caffeine dependent, morally grey, negative rizz, lowkey has the highest body count of all the bats, and is a badass: and I will watch the crimson blood, leak from you neck

Canon Tim, loser skater boy who plays DnD in his spare time, nap addicted, pulls hella bitches, strict moral code with the bad habit of seeing only black and white, and is also a major badass: woah, that kid is hardcore goth

[heavyhandedhex]

who survived? …anyone else but you?