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[aastrum]

swanlikebeauty·:

he was right of course, the paperwork was tedious and there were mountains of it, she was getting sick of it by now. but it also needed to be done so together with her stubbornness, he had quite the task in luring her away from it. “ the horses always want to ride. ” she pointed out, though she relaxed a little in his arms before reaching behind her to gently stroke his jaw. perhaps it wouldn’t be much of a task, after all, to get her out of her study. “ don’t tempt me so, derek, you can see how much i have to do and i won’t want to do any of it for the rest of the day if we go riding. ”

      Arms ease from their efforts and remain satisfied enough to merely hold her there for the moment, small sigh leaving him as forehead nestles against golden curls.

       “What is this ever pressing issue that you must tend to this very moment, hm?” Words are spoken low and soft to her ear as focus parts onto the sprawled parchment. “Is it truly nothing I could assist you with in another hour or so?”

[aastrum]

You promised me this would never happen.

[aastrum]

swanlikebeauty·:

@aastrum· gets a starter bc we need this

“ you’re distracting me. ” odette murmured, already half given up on the paperwork she’d been trying to get done for days: it felt as if it had been multiplying whenever she looked away for five seconds. and derek was definitely cheating, he knew she couldn’t resist when he kissed her neck, it made her all weak and soft ( he was the only one allowed to see her in such a state ). 

        “Distracting?” he repeats the word with an absurdity like it’s something to be laughed about, arms circling around her body and trying for all he can to pry her from the seat, but needless to say she has always been as stubborn as he—if not more—regardless of his tactics. “Come now, Odette! The horses want to ride! As do you, I’m sure; you’re driving yourself mad in here.” 

[aastrum]

witchered·:

                         he’s   been   bitten   by   enough   of   them.    creatures   that   would   snap   bone   as   soon   as   disturbed ,    honey   -   seeking ,    lethal.    she   seems   every   bit   to   live   up   to   the   nature   and   his   ego ,    that   small   slice   of   bravado   he   has   after   downing   drink ,   more   and   more ,    simply   wants   to   see    for   sure.    challenge   put   forth   and   it   simply   makes   uneven   grin   appear ,    hands   clasped   tight   now   and   he’ll   take   it.    “ fifty   orens.    if   you   think   that’s   interesting   enough. ”    pride   of   the   wolves   rests   upon   easy   shoulders ,    maybe.    glint   in   his   amber   eyes   that   tells   of   that   hearty ,    if   playful   ego.    thinks   he’ll   win.    prove   him   wrong ,    go   on.

         It sweetens the pot well, her shifting features betraying that much, but something in his words compels her to be just that much more greedy. 

        A smug grin has made itself comfortable on her by now, eyes keenly assessing the other witcher. 

       “Am I to assume you have something more to give?” 

[aastrum]

         nuala plays the harp and often loves to sing when she is alone. 

[aastrum]

Listen I am aware canon exists like … I can see it. I just don’t…. como se dice…. give a shit. 

[aastrum]

hello all! sorry i’ve been quiet lately but im just going through a lot of feels suddenly and can’t quite focus on actual writing, but i am more than happy to plot/headcanon/have a nice casual convo with anyone who wants to, just shoot me a message💕 

also DEFINITELY catch me on that ne.w horizons shit!! 

[aastrum]

y’aLL.... i really want to break in my eskel muse... . so pls like this if youd like me to tarzan swing into your dms and try to create something with you! 

[aastrum]

MUSES TO BE ADDED 

Yen.nefer of Ven.gerberg ( Game/book inspired )

Eskel ( Game/book inspired )

Dr Ste.phen Str.ange ( MCU/Comic inspired )

Max May.field ( Stranger Things, au/canon and heacanon based )

[aastrum]

          You know what they say—one man’s trash is another man’s next kickass venue. at least, that’s what she thinks when she visits these infamously derelict buildings such as Brimborn Steelworks. what more could a girl want? there’s great acoustics, industrial decorum to be swung and climbed on, and a more ominous appeal depending on what you’re into. only con: kids seem to have made them into quite the star attraction for cops. 

          That’s where she comes in, preferably through a window clouded with age and dust, to scope it out. she hops onto the sill with ease and tosses fishnet covered legs over, eyes adjusting to the dark as boots plant her inside. easy. 

         Steps are unhurried but careful as mental notes are taken on the place. as the name might suggest, there’s plenty of grimy equipment, stacks of steel pipes here and there, but it’s otherwise open. what’s more interesting is another doorway that she finds in the middle, built in painted but peeling brick. a lower level? excitement has her in its grip, and she giggles in pure glee as she makes a break for it, caution forgotten until all at once, she sees her shadow thrown in a stream of white light, blood freezing over. 

        “Shit!” comes out more a strained hiss than a word as she, with as much speed as reflexes muster, turns back to the stacks of steel, pressing her back against the broad side of them as she quells panicked breaths. dammit! how could this be happening to her already? she needs to think of an escape, and she needs to think of it now. 

@fabumor​

[aastrum]

camarodrove‌:

BILLY HARGROVE HAS ALWAYS BEEN IN THE DARKNESS, HE KNEW THIS. he was pushed into it by life and he almost find comfort in it, it was all peachy fuckin’ keen until the darkness possessed him and consumed and did whatever the fuck it wanted with him. his body was tired, torn open only to be tried and stitched back together in the best way possible. AT LIMBO, between a deep profound sleep and being absolute restless-drugged with things he doesn’t fully comprehend. HEAVY. 

it’s only then, when he stops hearing the sounds of screams, of destruction, of pain that he begins to come to. MOUTH HAS THAT FOUL LEFTOVER TASTE OF BLEACH AND DEATH. holy shit, he’d died. HE WAS SURE OF THAT. everything else is lost, only the feel of nothing and too much at the same time, head hurting and so so empty, no longer sharing it with dozens of people. he feels it then, the presence of someone else. SOUNDS OF MACHINERY, the smell of clean cut. HE HATES IT HERE, on instinct, billy has an inkling of where he is, no clue on how. slowly, groggily then he opens his eyes. LIGHTS TOO BRIGHT TOO WHITE. “-th’fuck…” voice hoarse, unused for so long. HIS EYES CAN’T REALLY ADJUST and moving doesn’t feel like an option. his head is swimming on a strange tide, fueled by the amount of drugs in him. fingers twitch, trying to feel something, anything. 

           Rapt in a grim daze, faint mumblings send a shock to her system, but she knows immediately she is not mistaken in hearing them. a soft gasp escapes her. 

          “Billy? Billy—!” there is urgency in her small voice as she quickly reaches for his hand, both of her own clasping firmly around and oh, how cold it feels against them. her eyes sting with welling tears—relief, grief, guilt, it pushes forward all at once, but she swallows it painfully down. what’s needed now more than anything is strength, for both of them. 

          She breathes deeply, briefly looking down at the gesture that once would feel so terribly foreign, but she doesn’t currently have the mind to care, thumb skimming over the back of his palm in an assuring motion. 

          “Billy, I’m here. It’s me, Max.” 

[aastrum]

witchered‌:

                “ come   on , ”    idle   rasp   in   that   voice   of   his ,    elbow   upon   the   table   and   grasp   inviting.    glint   in   his   eye ,    competition   springing   new   amongst   the   gold   and   burning   citrine   and   maybe   he’s   drunk   enough   his   bravado   makes   itself   known.    “ are   bears   stronger   than   wolves ? ”    find   out ,    come   on.    he’ll   bet   fifty   orens   on   it.    @aastrum​

         A rousing question indeed. Laughing scoff flits from the mouth rimming a frothy tankard put aside, face leaning to his with inebriated, though not entirely misplaced, confidence. He is respectfully strong, she has seen as much, but if one is to emulate their respective sigils he should know that a bear in their habitat is always better unprovoked—and unruly taverns such as these were just that. 

         “Well, we certainly haven’t the tails to turn from a challenge.” 

         Elbow strikes the table to make declaration of the event, gaining a few keen ears in their small vicinity, palm open and flexing. 

         “Shall we wager on it, White Wolf?” 

[aastrum]

just a lil PSA — been a little busy as of late prepping everything for my camping trip this weekend so activity will be pretty sparse and I’ll be gone until the 10th, but ilu all and will reply to things soon! <3 

[aastrum]

queenbard‌:

            “  𝑺𝑰𝑭 —— ! ”    stern   call ,    wide   smile   ‘pon   cherry   wine   lips.    “ wha’ss   my   favourite   witcher   dragged   in   now ?    bruxa ?    noonwraith ?    husband ? ”    good   -   humoured   and   sharp ,    liquor   sly ,    hardly   shy.    adores   adores   adores.    @aastrum​

          “Dear Liliadne,” she counters in like, though tipped in that saccharine fondness she holds for the bard, “Of all, you should know nothing holds me by my volition—except perhaps the desire to once more hear your sweet song.” ‘Tis true, her visits to this city were a couple too few in between, but she had a way of making her feel well enough at home each and every time, along with a pint or three of mead as good as could be afforded. “I trust you have been well?” 

[aastrum]

         Since when did hospitals get so damn cold? It’s the only thing she could think about, bundled helplessly in the armchair she’s fixed at the side of his bed, tugging at the end of her sleeves to cover pale gooseflesh. Or maybe it was just an all too welcomed distraction from all other intrusive thoughts cramming themselves into her head. ( It’s all her fault. Maybe everything’s always been her fault, some way or another, and she just wanted to save herself from the hurt of it. )

         Blue eyes continue to stare from the midst of a tirelessly worrisome expression, heavy from her constant vigilance as if she wills it hard enough, things will change, but the dull tone of the machines has been a constant, as has the hoarse sound of air filtering through his scarred body just lying there. She’d been here every day, every hour that she could take for it. Their parents came too, for awhile, but slowly began to leave as work would take them, a necessity as they would eventually have their dues to pay. Not that she minded. They couldn’t fully grasp the situation, as much as her mother might’ve tried. This was... Something better dealt with between the two of them, for now. 

        But there comes the thought that plagues her now more than any: what happens next? Where do they even begin to start? All she knows is, for better or for worse, things will never be the same. 

@camarodrove​

[aastrum]

sexwins‌:

                if   you   think   this   is   bad ——      try   being   in   l.a.   in   mid   -   summer   when   the  olympics   are   about   to   hit ,    there’s   a   serial   killer   on   the   loose ,    and   you’re   flat   fucking   broke   with   no  way   out.    this   is   an   escape ,    not   that   the   rest   of   you   losers   would   get   that.    had   taken   a   walk   all   by   himself ,    sour   feeling   in   his   chest   at   their   new   company   who   clearly   can’t   keep   it   in   his   ugly   yellow   gym   shorts.    like   he’s   even   upset ,    why   the   hell   would   he   be ?    keep   telling   yourself   that   and   you   actually   might   start   believing   it ,    x.    wandering   still   with   that   storm   of   an   expression   on   his   face ,    until   he   sees   it.    glow   of   a   cigarette   and   plume   of   smoke   into   the   night   air ,    silver   -   grey   in   the   moonlight.   “ ‘tana ?    is   that   you ? ”    sounds   lazy   and   like   she’s   hardly   worth   raising   his   voice   for ,    but   no.    torch   tells   of   blue   jeans   and   a   leather   jacket   and   the   silhouette   of   the   stupidest   fucking   haircut   he’s   ever   seen.    roll   of   his   eyes ,    and   xavier   flicks   the   torch   switch.   pockets   it ,    hands   hidden   defensive.    no   use   for   it   now   anyway ,    can   see   just   enough   in   the   stark   white   of   the   porch   light   from   the   boy’s   cabin.    “ depends   if   you’re   offering. ”    footsteps   halt ,    won’t   even   look   at   hargrove   out   of   that   aloof   kind   of   caution   he   takes   utmost   pride   in.    “ they   get   too   much   for   you ?    you   don’t   seem   .   .   .    like   a   social   butterfly. ”    stab   in   the   dark   at   insecurity.    almost   seems   condescending.

        Something in Billy nearly tuts, but he supposes he’s not all wrong in his observations. Social? He’s plenty, but it hardly means there’s any entitlement to his special attention. A man’s got his pride, though, he gets it, and so some amiable smile meddles its way along. 

       “ You think so? ” he asks, all in innocent, good fun, head atilt, “ ‘Cause I thought we were all friends here. ” One more shake of the offering in hand. Decisions, decisions; they’ve got the entire summer after all. Are we friends, Xavier? 

[aastrum]

        If he could wrap this place up in two words, it’s what they call a total summer bummer: the lot that came to be of his roomies and neighbors nothing short of underwhelming, some more apparent for him to case out, others perhaps a bit more shifty yet bound to reveal more in such intimate and nosy quarters; teenagers have a way of being so with nothing better yet to do. but it’s just the one, right? 

       Cigarette burns like a flickering red star through the darkness, gaze fixated on those in the inky black above them. probably the only good thing this place has given him, that clear view so seldom partaken by a city boy, and this one moment of solitude since he’s arrived here not so far into the bush. though the smell gives notion that he’s hardly hiding, at least not from those without the authority to reprimand him for such pleasures, apparent to the footsteps he hears soon approaching. when the flashlight beam strokes his leg outstretched from the tree, he baits with his carton of Malboros, waving it temptingly. 

       “ Came for one of these? ”

@sexwins​