#nazaeir

[sangrealsarchive]

     𝙒𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝙄𝙏 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙂𝙍𝙄𝙈 𝙐𝙍𝙂𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙔 of her errand, she might even find the night peaceful. she has always had a fondness for the streets of beauclair beneath the gleaming moon, winding streets lit with torches and scented with wine and flowers adorning windowsills and trellises. tonight, however, little affection is spared for the city, her attention focused solely on the task at hand as cloak is lifted to mask her features, the square surrounding the pillory empty and silent save for the distant whisper of the night breeze. 

    distantly, the sorceress knows she is a fool for this, that such investigation is the reason the witcher was summoned in the first place, but the thought of standing idly by even now sets her ill at ease, wounds hidden pride. for that, she works to blend into the shadows surrounding the square, thinks of crespi’s body as a slow shiver crawls down her spine. her watch, however, is paused as she feels the sudden weight of a gaze on her, an instinct learned in girlhood and never abandoned. it lingers, she feels it, and a heavy sigh falls from her lips. “you may as well come out,” fingers curl beneath her cloak, elder speech dancing on the tip of her tongue, “i know you’re there.”   @nazaeir​​

[rhenawed]

“You can’t be here.”

She was out running a job, going to sell an item when in walked an intriguing individual. She didn’t know if anyone else noticed how he was handling the silver candle with care, having it wrapped up so as to not make skin contact with it. Could he be...? The only way to cure her curiosity was to follow him. 

So once he finished making his sell, she trailed behind him slowly, careful as to not get caught. She wasn’t sure what to expect. But turning the corner into an alley, he had suddenly disappeared, only to jump out behind her, baring fangs like a monster. Instead of reacting how anyone else typically would, running away screaming, she instead remained calm, feeling as if there was someone she could relate with. After all, everyone always misunderstood her, treating her like a monster. “And why can’t I? Do you own this alleyway? If you’re trying to scare me, I must sadly inform you it isn’t working. But I do give you points for trying.” she paused before continuing, giving a small smile. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” 

@nazaeir

[bladewarde]

TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU'D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER!

favorite color(s).  blue. currently reading.  the picture of dorian grey. last series.  sandman, which i highly recommend.  last movie.  that i actually paid attention to - shawshank redemption. that was just on in the background - transporter 1 and 2. sweet / spicy / savory.  sweet and spicy, but not together. i have a crazy sweet tooth, and a dangerous like of obscenely spicy things. currently working on.  work related things... :L

tagged by: @fadedpath ty max xo tagging: @stagsworn / @inabsentiia / @thiefcant / @viilein / @dracograce / @artifexx / @nazaeir / @sangreals / @fireraise

[sangreals-archive]

steer: place a hand under their chin to make them look up. 

𝙄𝙉𝙆-𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙁𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝘼𝘽𝙎𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙔 twirl a quill between them, the motion interrupted only by the inscription of careful notes in the margins of the book sprawled out across her lap. the flora and fauna of nazair had proven not so wholly unlikely that of toussaint, warmth climate and rich soil allowing for far more variation than she’d seen in the north, but years at aretuza had taught her the importance of diligent study. (besides, what sort of herbalist is not intimately familiar with what grows around them, blossoms and transforms beneath their hands?) 

the lazy crackle of the fire proves soothing, enough so that her eyelids grow heavy, and celine curls up further atop the chaisse before it. focused deeply, she blinks as a cup of tea is unexpectedly handed towards her, steam billowing around it. 

“here,” the low rumble of dettlaff’s familiar voice follows, “i thought you might like some.” 

their time spent together in toussaint had not been without joy, but the past weeks of a life spent truly together has allowed them each to learn each other’s habits, how best to care for each other in a way that their sporadic evenings together never had. (a careful sip further assures that he’s not only learned her favorite brew before bed, but also watched her for the best way to steep it.) 

“whatever have i done to deserve you,” celine hums softly, shifting to allow him space before a hand tugs at his sleeve, “come sit with me a while, my love. i just need a few minutes more to finish my thoughts.” 

tea is balanced carefully in one hand as her gaze returns to the pages spread before her, the vampire’s form comfortably beside her. 

“celine-,” he pauses, “i must ask you something.” 

“ask and i shall answer,” the sorceress lowers her head to blow against the drying ink before scribbling another note. 

“are you happy?”

huffing an amused breath, celine’s brow furrows as she flips a page. “of course i am, dettlaff. why, is my happiness in doubt?”

calloused fingers gently but firmly move beneath her chin, sweeping over the arch of her jaw. dettlaff guides her eyes to meet his and, once their gazes meet, celine regrets the casual reply offered. there is worry in his pale eyes, accentuated by a slight furrow of his brow. 

carefully closing her book and setting her tea aside, celine reaches to take his hands in her own. “of course i’m happy,” she replies softly, more slowly than before, “why do you worry over such?”

he remains quiet for a long moment, words chosen carefully. “it...,” a quiet sigh, “everything you gave up to be here, to be with me...it does not go unnoticed, celine. i had thought little of it that night, when i came to you.” 

a faint but sincere guilt clouds his words, hovers in his voice. “oh, my love,” a hand lifts to brush along his cheekbone, “do you worry over that?”

when dettlaff says nothing, her hand guides his head to rest in her lap. he follows her motions without pause, pale gaze flicking upwards to meet her eyes once more as her fingers trail through his ebony hair. 

“the choice i made, dettlaff, was freely and eagerly given. i have, not for one moment, regretted it.” a little smile settles on her lips, a thumb tracing over the grey hairs lining his brow. “there is nothing i left behind that i have not gained thrice over and more.”

she senses relief in the way his posture eases, in how the tension in his broad shoulders melts away. “i abandoned luxury i found shallow, dettlaff, and power i found exhausting. what renown i held was in the eyes of those whose opinions i cared nothing for. i was surrounded by much and many, yes, but it meant nothing to me.” 

her gaze lifts to trace over the home they’ve begun to build over the weeks, once empty space slowly filled with more than the few items they’d brought with them in the dead of night from beauclair. a bench for him to craft his toys and carvings, a bookshelf filled with tomes and parchment for her work, a vase of flowers she keeps perpetually blossoming beside their bed; all of it humble, certainly, but impossibly adored and tenderly maintained. 

“all those nights we spent apart in beauclair? i used to dream of just sitting with you in the palace gardens,” a fingertip strokes lightly along his cheekbone, words warm at the memory, “and no one would interrupt us. we could be together and not have to hide, as long as wished. now? we have a garden, dettlaff, and i might sit with you just as i dreamed.” 

with that, a large hand reaches up to her cheek, guiding her down to snare her lips in a deep, slow kiss. a hum of contentment follows, warmth spreading throughout her limbs, and when celine pulls away she can’t help the eager grin that appears. “i’m going to marry you, dettlaff van der eretein, and i will wake beside you every morning in our home and think of nothing else.” 

[fauxgryf]

“Could I play you a tune?” Bright eyes did not peel away from the instrument that sat in his lap, the piece almost flat and lined with various strings, the sound its creating almost somber. Eerie to cross paths with such a character camped outside of city walls. Music STOPS. Gaze lifting to land on the stranger. “Unless you are here on the matter of confrontation.”

@nazaeir​

[cyruliik]

nazaeir

‘  will  i  be  forgiven  for  the  sins  i  did  not  commit , but  created ?  ’

“ Dettlaff, my friend -- ”

The other man’s grief was nearly palpable, mixing with the stuffy air around them. This necropolis, just like any other, left a thick layer of musty odor on their clothes, their hands and hair. So many sensations, yet Dettlaff’s most inner despair oozed, drowned the spacious room, became that of Emiel’s. Empathy of blood-bound vampires, enhanced & inexhaustible. Compassion planted inside Regis’ ever since their hearts began pumping the same vital fluids. No tie between any human beings could ever compare to this. 

“ While you must remember I never for a second approved of your actions, ” he weighed every uttered word, tasting it before letting it escape his mouth. “ I cannot say I fail to understand the reason behind your response. You were hurt. Hurt by someone you did not expect to turn your back at you. I could feel your despair while you hid from the world, from me --  ” 

Pause. Wrinkles cracked his forehead as he mulled over the events of the last months, was it years already? Time flies differently for those who never cared much for it. “ I would not dub myself a man of faith, pious vampire sounds comical to some degree -- but I believe in redemption and second chance. You needn’t torture yourself, Dettlaff. Humans, their world and behaviors ... they differ greatly from ours. And you were far from ready to face deception they hide, like snakes in the grass ready to strike their oblivious prey. ”

Concern cast a shadow over the brief moment of his complacency. Words could only fix so much. -- what about a broken heart and guilt gnawing at Dettlaff’s bones down to the marrow?

“ Is there anything I can do to soothe your pain? ”

[sangrealsarchive]

i’ve had miss celine for one (1) whole calendar year now and im enormously, impossibly grateful to everyone who’s gone out of their way to write and interact with her. she’s, hands down, my favorite blog i’ve ever had on this hellsite and, by far, the blog with the most character development largely thanks to @luredeep who helped instill terminal elf brain in me and my actual bff @nazaeir who is the reason this blog is so special to me. i’m so fortunate to have both of you nerds in my life and for you both tolerating me for so?? long?? 

i have so many ideas and plots for celine i still have yet to explore and i’m just so excited to see what year 2 has for her :’) 

[closedcoffins]

❔

Ooh, okay. I'm leaving out the obvious ( dettlaff and syanna ) seeing as we've already gotten started figuring stuff for them out!

Firstly I'd like to throw Cyran at Dettlaff---he's my higher vampire oc from the Ammurun clan. He's relatively young in terms of, like, what higher vampires consider young, but he made his way across the sea to the Continent on his own and is kind of just a serial problem causer, who causes so many problems everywhere all the time. I just think it'd be funny to throw him at Dettlaff.

More self indulgently I'd also like to throw Cahir at him, just because I think Cahir is chill enough that he wouldn't not get along with Dettlaff. Maybe also Leslaw, but I don't really have a good explanation for this one.

sending muses your way. / accepting.

[alcriti]

‘  you  wish  to  strike  a  bargain.  ’ / @nazaeir​

​He realises the necessity of his guise -- to come without hope of expectation -- is meaningless. An honest effort, but feeble. All too easily, his façade is torn down, seen through, exposing him; his confidence wanes and withers in the presence of his elder, and Astarion shrinks from beneath his steely gaze.

❝ I... I wouldn’t be here if that weren’t the case, Master Dettlaff... In truth, you’re not particularly difficult to find when one, such as myself, knows where to look. ❞ He pitifully explains. The words do not quite leave his mouth as confidently as he would have liked, and he bares his teeth in a pained grimace. 

Bargaining was not the sort of negotiation their kind dealt in. No, they were distant and removed, stalking the fringes of a world that they saw as beneath them, and taking from it what they pleased, without consequence. Such was his own folly: Mingling with humans, and likewise, believing himself free of the rules that have never applied to their kind. 

The carelessness of his actions betray his youthful naivete, and in pleading his case, Astarion finds his waning courage to speak up. ❝ You are the only other vampire I know of whom I could turn to. Call it a bargain, call it enlisting your aid, but I would hope that you wouldn’t turn one of your kin away. I have a problem that needs getting rid of: The sooner, the better. ❞

[lwiamatka-gone]

@nazaeir​ liked for canon dialogue starter.

                                      “ it isn’t a fairy story, it’s real life. lousy, evil, onerous, not sparing of errors, harm, sorrow, disappointments or misfortunes; not sparing of anyone, neither witchers, nor queens. “

[openedbooks]

❛ Can you forgive me? ❜ for regis 🥺

  Regis is stricken by the question, his voice failing him as he stands face to face with Dettlaff-- the man who had saved him from a fate worse than any death he can imagine. The man he is bound with until the ends of their very long lives. His hands clench around the strap of his satchel, twisting the worn leather and worrying grooves into it with his claws.

Can you forgive me?

  Regis feels as if it should be him asking that. He cannot tell if the guilt he feels flowing between them is Dettlaff's or his own, for he carries no small amount of it. For having left him alone. For having vowed to him help only to uncover an unprecedented upheaval. For making so many promises to so many people-- none of which he was able to uphold.

  For having pledged to stand at his dear witcher's side and take Dettlaff's life if it came to it.

  He is ever thankful that it hadn't. It would be like killing a part of himself. It would be something he feared he would never come back from, not truly. After coming to know him, a world without Dettlaff in it felt a terribly empty thing to imagine. But the cost--

     " I... " Regis despises hearing the tremble in his own voice. Brows furrowing, he swallows to steady it and finds the other vampire's eyes with his own, seeking... He cannot name what he is seeking, yet he seeks it even so. " I certainly did not follow you all this way to rebuke you. "

  He takes a step towards him, raising a hand slowly, deliberately, to lay upon Dettlaff's upper arm-- not grasping, merely resting. Compassionate, comforting, that is what he wishes to be in this moment. He does not need to demand answers of Dettlaff, he needs to be here for him.

     " Oh, my dear friend... my own feelings are immaterial in this matter. Not only do I owe to you a debt I can never repay, I care for you a great deal-- even with all talk of forgiveness set aside. When you need someone, there I shall be. I cannot leave you to suffer alone. "

  He will not.

     " But... I am certain you wish for a proper answer. " Black eyes fall closed with a sigh, an unseen weight bowing the barber-surgeon's head. Regis prefers talking in circles when it comes to his own thoughts-- the personal, vulnerable ones, anyway. But Dettlaff deserves more from him than that.      " ...Yes, Dettlaff. I believe that I can. I am willing to. I see the good in you, now as I always have, and I am afraid that I have ever been stubborn to a fault in such matters. "

  Regis opens his eyes once more, glancing away as regret washes over him once more. Had he not displayed such steadfast blind faith in Dettlaff, then perhaps he could have truly helped him before things got out of hand.

     " Can you forgive me? "

200 random dialogue prompts ( accepting ) // @nazaeir

[sangrealsarchive]

to accompany my dragon age brainrot, i have a new joint dai verse with my best bud @nazaeir. i’d love to be able to write some da threads, so if youre a da muse or have a da verse, pls reach out for some plotting !

DA VERSE: raised in the minrathous circle, celine displayed exceptional magical abilities from a young age that helped ward off any disdain towards her lack of familial status. having been orphaned at a young age, her talents allowed her to thrive within the circle despite the absence of any allies or mentors within the imperium. 

she steadily rose through the circle’s ranks, achieving the rank of enchanter for her research on the occult & the arcane, along with a proficiency for elemental magic. her swift ascendancy stalled when she fell in love with a nobleman named dettlaff van der eretein after their chance encounter at a gathering within the city. knowing that their relationship would never be allowed and unwilling to risk being torn from each other (or his secrets being revealed), they fled to orlais and lived quietly & happily within val royeaux, with her acting as an herbalist & him a toymaker. however, after great hesitation and much discussion, they decided to offer their talents to aid the inquisition.

celine can be recruited alongside dettlaff at the winter palace if the inquisitor displays empathy towards mages & elves or hostility towards the chantry. from there, she can offer research & insight towards any ancient or dark magic the inquisitor is interested in, as well as crafting numerous potions that aid in regeneration & healing, though usually does not accompany the inquisitor & any companions on excursions from skyhold. 

[bladewarde]

𝑸.  𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖?

𝑨. lingering touch.

you are home. you are the feeling of lasting peacefulness. it resonates in your bones and stabilizes your surroundings. you like routine and the familiarity of things. it brings you satisfaction to have a grounded life. you want to build something you're proud of and share the benefits with your loved ones. you are the glue of your friends and family and essential to the functioning of the group. others admire your responsibility and how they can rely on you for anything. you are amazing.

tagged by: @heroreluctant

tagging: @stagsworn / @has-opinions​ / @nazaeir​ / & YOU.

[closedcoffins]

❛ Don’t run away from this. ❜ - for SYANNAAAA

"Dettlaff."

Syanna's tone is strained and stern, and she refuses to meet his eyes even if it's contrary to every current compulsion she has to continue looking away. She knows what she'll see---Syanna is no stranger to those looks, filled with hurt and betrayal. It does not make them sting any less, though she knows they are no-one's fault but her own.

It is better, at least, for that knowledge. If Dettlaff chooses now to put every ounce of the passion he had loved her with into hating her, it will be a hate she willingly invited, rather than some hardly-true nonsense having driven him away like it had done so many others. This way, his hurt will never cause her more pain than Anarietta's dismissal.

Syanna had run from Dettlaff's love. She hadn't believed in the unconditional intensity, had known herself incapable of responding in kind. It might have been easy for him to fall in love with her, but Syanna has never had an easy time returning those feelings in kind. She could have never given Dettlaff what he expected of her; all she could have done was make his eventual dissatisfaction into something she controlled.

"Could I run, if I wanted to?" Syanna's tone lacks life, her question rhetorical. Dettlaff wouldn't allow her to leave, in much the same way as Anarietta. Syanna thinks, bitterly, that if she makes it away alive she will have nothing more to do with people who would seek to keep her contained. "Or would you kill me before I could take a step? Perhaps you'd keep me caged, like an unfortunate bird at the mercy of someone else's whims."

She is, unfortunately, a woman of many bad habits. She'd come for the safety of Toussaint, of course, but Syanna has always been curious. She'd wondered if this conversation would be any more bitter than the others she's had, wondered if at last she'd pushed him too far, but she still doesn't know.

"Regardless," she begins, summoning it from within herself to meet his gaze, "I would not be here at all if I intended to run. You know that as well as I do."

random dialogues. / accepting.

[ulfhrafnx]

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒. 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑.

the sun will not set on you. whatever you are looking for, it can be found. it is waiting for you. this fear has no place in your home. no matter what shape your grief comes in, there will always be a place for you in this world.

tagged by: @aevyternal 🥰  tagging: @nazaeir , @crxssroads , @misinthrope , @glaswen 

[sangreals-archive]

@nazaeir​ asked: “i hoped that you would come”

 MEME TAG: ALWAYS ACCEPTING

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙆𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙀𝙉𝙀𝙍𝙂𝙔 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙋𝙊𝙍𝙏𝘼𝙇 interrupts the night’s calm as it closes behind her and celine sighs heavily as her gaze lifts towards the moon. it’s high enough in the sky to assure her that she’s far more late than she’d guessed. a pang of guilt immediately follows, her steps quickly leading her through the courtyard. 

      to most, the estate would look a shell of its former self. teams of servants are long gone and there are no feasts out in the rolling vineyards, no parties or tastings. however, the inside of the home is simply but neatly kept, the windows illuminated by flickering candlelight. it’d taken no less than a dozen spells and a few hours of concentrated focus to restore the manor, but there’d been such a joy in it that she’d hardly noticed the exhaustion after.

    stepping inside hurriedly, she’s relieved to find a familiar form waiting for her in the foyer. tired features immediately break into a smile and celine eagerly wraps her arms around broad, muscled shoulders. “i’m so sorry, my love,” her lips press against the hard arch of dettlaff’s jaw, a hum of contentment following, “court kept me and i couldn’t escape until now.” 

    it’s only when the vampire’s arms encircle her with an unusual tightness that celine senses a frenetic energy to him. it also occurs to her that he hadn’t been waiting for her in the study or kitchen as has steadily become the norm, but rather all but in the doorway. still, she leans into his embrace, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

     “i hoped that you would come,” dettlaff finally speaks and the low rumble of his voice has an edge of relief to it.

     celine huffs a breath amusedly, leaning back to arch a brow. “what? did you think i wouldn’t come?”

     immediately, she regrets her words. inadvertent though they were, they veer close to mocking given his history. it would not be the first time someone beloved simply did not return, decided to disappear without explanation or warning. it’s enough to for a sharp pang of regret to pierce her and celine lifts a hand to rest against dettlaff’s cheek. “i’m sorry, my words were clumsy,” she sighs quietly, teeth raking over her lower lip, “i did not mean it to sound as such.” 

    while dettlaff van der eretein might hardly be called delicate, there nonetheless remain glimmers of scars not yet fully healed. with time, he has allowed her to learn of them and, in a gesture that makes her heart swell within her chest, has trusted her enough to begin to mend them. for that, while the love between them may be young, there is an easiness to it that makes it feel familiar and certain, a northern star towards which she can orient herself. (and she loves him enough that it aches, each smile and laugh she earns from him all but dizzying.)

    for that, she is quiet for a long moment, reaching her fingertips up to rest against the incline of his cheekbones in order to affix his vision to her own. “when you call, dettlaff, i shall always come.” celine leans to rest her forehead to his own and her lips skim lightly against his. “i will not leave. i promise you this.” 

she stays like that for a long while, until she is certain the restlessness has abated from him, and when celine leans back there is a soft smile playing on her lips, “i know that you know that, but i’ll remind you of it if need arises, hm?”