faereun

[faereun]

drops this at ur feet @voidwidouw

[faereun]

i just need everyone to know my bf is growing out his beard and he looks like gale more and more every day.. 😼

[faereun]

might make a private multi for writing w friends but im hesitant to log back into my old disco only bc im so overwhelmed by the amt of social interactions ive been having lately and id feel so bad starting new convos w old friends only to ghost y'all again bc i'm just not at that like emotional capacity yet

sorry again for disappearing, nearing finishing the credits i need to transfer + finally making some friends @ school + getting into a relationship has truly overwhelmed me sm that i've barely even written for fun on my own time 😞 miss and love u folks so much, hope i can be back eventually :)

[faereun]

sorry again for disappearing, nearing finishing the credits i need to transfer + finally making some friends @ school + getting into a relationship has truly overwhelmed me sm that i've barely even written for fun on my own time 😞 miss and love u folks so much, hope i can be back eventually :)

[faereun]

who up clik like

[faereun]

guys i had a nightmare ln that i tried to come back from hiatus for like the 70 billionth time but when i did tumblr was literally broken like unusable i kid u not i woke up in a cold sweat..

[faereun]

the fog rolls in through the shadowlands like liquid darkness, the pale moon slung low and wavering in the sky. ilsa closes their eyes for a brief moment, allowing the ( bitingly cold ) air to nip at their bared skin, bloodied armor discarded for the evening. something here feels … familiar, in AN UNPLEASANT , JARRING way that she cannot quite place. if she ruminates on the feeling for too long, her mind is bogged down by a dull, aching pain, and so, she shakes her head to clear those muddled thoughts. as it were, the crunch of ( boots through dirt ) alerts them to the sound of @drunivers approaching.   ❝ shadowheart. was there something you needed? ❞   they quip, perhaps a touch short but not unkind. the recent battle at last light inn had been a draining one, and with ilsa’s URGES GNAWING INSISTENTLY at her slackened mind, her patience is gradually waning.

[faereun]

u guys im so excited to write again i checked my notifs to see if anyone wanted a starter and i let out an audible 'yippee!' when i saw the notes sjwkfkf

[faereun]

fresh starter call to try and get this blog rolling again ♡ specify muse(s) pretty please!

[faereun]

catching up on the dash and rpc stuff in gen, to be veeery clear i do not condone any people's weird, racist, fetishizing behavior, esp when they're borderline blackfishing/misleading other people into believing they're nonwhite

[faereun]

i think part of the reason my desire to write like...fully disappeared is bc all of the writing i've had to do for school just completely sucked the joy out of it for me. anyways, if you would like me to continue our old threads, do me a favor and interact w this post! if you want to start fresh and drop our old threads, that's completely ok :)

[faereun]

i will be back so soon my loves ... in the meantime freaking out because i have a sort - of - date - not - date tomorrow and i really like this dude but i am so off - putting and strange i have no idea how i'm going to pull this off without immediately alerting him to my inherent freakishness (aka my nd swag)

[faereun]

GINGER SNAPS (2000) dir. John Fawcett

[faereun]

okay once again feeling the urge to mass delete my blogs and deactivate my discord so in order to curb that im deleting tumblr ™ off my phone and logging out of discord for a bit. consider this a soft hiatus notice for the time being 🤞

[faereun]

@faereun & shadowheart asked : a platonic kiss on the forehead kissing meme : always accepting

𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂   𝙰𝙵𝚃𝙴𝚁   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙴   𝙾𝙵   𝙶𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙵   𝚆𝙴𝚁𝙴   𝙵𝚁𝙰𝚄𝙶𝙷𝚃.   The   Mother   Superior   had   been   especially   cruel,   twisting   the   proverbial   knife   in   her   final   moments,   taunting   the   former   cleric   of   Shar   with   her   parents’   torment.   Tav   had   masterfully   slid   a   dagger   through   the   woman’s   ribs,   but   that   had   not   stopped   the   horror   that   was   to   come.   Something   that   had   been   long   dead   in   his   chest   had   clenched   and   ached   as   Shadowheart   bid   her   parents   farewell,   fangs   biting   into   the   flesh   of   his   cheek   to   distract   himself   from   the   thoughts   and   (lack   of)   memories   of   his   own   parents.  

She’d   tried   to   maintain   the   stoic   mask   on   their   way   back   to   their   rooms   at   the   Tavern   and   it   was   truly   an   impressive   effort,   but   Astarion   had   seen   the   tremor   in   her   hands   and   the   faint   quiver   of   her   lower   lip.   Masks   always   had   a   funny   way   of   cracking   when   confronted   with   the   specters   of   the   past   and   being   so   close   to   his   own   personal   hell   practically   guaranteed   that   his   would   shatter,   sooner   rather   than   later.  

The   rest   of   their   companions   had   respected   her   wishes   for   space,   but   the   elf   knew   that   there   were   times   when   people   just   shouldn’t   be   alone.     

It   had   been   easy   enough   to   wait   out   the   rest   of   their   companions,   the   vampiric   nocturnal   wakefulness   not   so   easily   shrugged   off   by   the   tadpole   tunneling   in   his   brain.   He   could   feign   it   well   enough,   sometimes   even   steal   an   hour   or   two,   but   predators   nor   slaves   were   afforded   the   luxury   of   deep   and   meaningful   sleep      —      the   faintest   of   changes   in   air   pressure   or   the   softest   of   noises   often   jolting   him   back   to   wakefulness   with   a   dagger   in   hand   and   fangs   bared.   Even   with   all   of   Shadowheart’s   training   and   skill,   even   she   could   not   stop   the   beat   of   her   heart   or   the   change   in   her   breathing   pattern   from   reaching   his   ears.   He’d   shadowed   her   through   the   still   bustling   tavern,   through   the   winding   alleys   of   the   Gate,   and   to   a   quiet   corner   of   the   park   before   a   neglected   statue   of   Selune.  

❝      𝑶𝒉,   𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕   𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍   .   .   .      ❞

It   was   when   her   shoulders   started   to   shake   that   he   announced   himself,   stepping   closer   and   doing   what   felt   natural      —      something   that   shocked   even   him      —      and   wrapped   her   in   an   embrace.   Having   someone   this   close,   this   platonically   intimate,   made   him   want   to   flinch,   but   he   beat   down   the   urge with a ruthless bite to his own cheek.   He   couldn’t   recall   if   he   had   lost   his   own   parents,   couldn’t   even   recall   their   faces,      but   he   liked   to   think   that   he   too   would   want   someone   to   hold   him   if   he   had   to   offer   them   mercy   with   his   own   blade.   Tears   dampened   the   soft   fabric   of   his   shirt,   and   he   squeezed   a   bit   tighter   in   response   and   tucked   his   chin   to   press   cool   lips   to   her   forehead. It was all a small, if awkward, comfort from a man who didn't quite know what he was doing, but he tried anyway.

❝      I   know,   get   it   all   out.   I’ve   got   you.      ❞

[faereun]

isvir laughs, and her warlock companion is thus filled with an obnoxious   sense  of  accomplishment   , trying   ( and failing )   to subdue the way their chest puffs out pridefully, the way their spine straightens and their posture rights itself. it is annoyingly easy to please ilsa, the human has realized of herself with time; when your memory is so riddled with holes and you've not a true friend in the world, well  —  needless to say, friendship is    A  TREASURED  THING   , though she is ill to ever say so aloud.  

'well, i may just take you up on that offer, then. i hate to think what might happen if one of those absolute cultists got hold of you,'   she pauses,   a  wicked  grin   once again curling at her lips.   'you'd probably get nauseous and throw up on one of the guards, and they'd kick you back out into the bowels of the shadow - curse. no fun for either party, i think,'   she continues to prod,   though  of  course   , her meaning is lighthearted. 

they laugh, watching as astarion squirms uncomfortably underneath   halsin's  kind  gaze   , arching an eyebrow in isvir's direction. she's not wrong  —  halsin is quite charming, and powerful to boot. still, he has a certain air of … clumsiness about him that   IS  ENDLESSLY  AMUSING   , in her opinion.   'hm … i do suppose loyalty is an important trait. as is a single man's ability to fell five foes in a single blow,'   she recalls then, halsin wildshaping into an owlbear and launching himself through a   hoard  of  cultists   . that instance had pretty much cemented him in their good books for the foreseeable future. 

the goddess barks out a laugh, rolling her eyes but meaning nothing by it. " by all means, leave me to rest at camp while you trudge about this horrible place, you'll hear no complaints from me. " isvir responds in kind, but her lips only betray a smile. ilsa's worry is well shrouded, but isvir knows. she always does.

raven tresses tumblr over her shoulder as her line of sight follows ilsa's words, landing on the druid and vampire spawn. she covers up a chuckle behind a hand, sipping at her mug. " i think he's charming. " she shrugs, drawing the shaw at her shoulders closer around her form. " and he's got a good heart, which is what matters, isn't it? loyalty is a favorable trait in times like these. " and well, a little power never hurt, which the elf seemed to harbor plenty of.

[faereun]

there's something about the sharran cleric that genesis   feels  innately  drawn   to, her inner turmoil so strangely familiar yet dissimilar all the same. perhaps it's as shadowheart says, then  —  darkness knows darkness, does it not?   it wasn't so long ago that the druid was much like her capricious companion, after all; she too was once so   [ blindly  and  wholly ]   devoted to her goddess that it consumed her every waking thought. consumed her ability to compartmentalize, differentiate her wants and needs from those of her mother, unable to separate   IDENTITY  FROM  DEVOTION   —  and what a cruel fate that is, truly. she drinks in the half - elf's countenance, as it is beautifully illuminated by flickering flames   and  waning  moonlight   ; the perfect visage of grief. 

though shadowheart will not meet her gaze, genesis looks on, watching for changes in body language, or even   the  briefest  chance   of their eyes meeting.   'indeed it does. though i have a feeling my darkness takes a very different shape than yours. and where others would call my … affliction 'darkness', i would think it more comparable to a white hot, burning light. all the rage of the sun, and perhaps more,'   she murmurs, thinking of how she'd felt ripping dror ragzlin's head from his blasted body,   GUTTING  THAT  ACCURSED   priestess, and leaving the drow for dead. flames had licked up the base of her spine, and her blood had turned to liquid fire in her veins.  

'i guess what i mean to say, really, is … you can talk to me. and before you berate me for prying, i understand you have your secrets for a reason,'   she barrels on, not giving the cleric a chance to interrupt.   'in a way … i see a bit of myself in you. i just … we might as well find solace in one another, when we're being chased by death regardless of our choices.'   she slips a flask from where it rests 'gainst her hip, uncaps the lid and throws back a mouthful of whiskey. it's an   earthy  ,  oaken  brew  ,   and though the taste is strong, it does little to ease gen's concerns.

the dark swallows everything. sometimes, shadowheart feels as though she, herself, has been swallowed. that she, herself, is lost in some kind of abyss that won't set her free. it won't let her out. memory loss feels vaguely like this : phantom taste on the tongue. a grief so profound every time you look at the moon.

she stops looking at the moon. she focuses on her hands, instead, as they warm by the fire.

❝ what is it you wish to say ? ❞ the raven - haired cleric does not need to glance at genesis to know she is being looked at. it only takes a moment to get her response. ❝ your heart has such darkness. ❞ @faereun speaks, and it causes something to tighten in shadowheart's chest. still, she doesn't look away from the flame. ❝ darkness knows darkness then, does it not ? ❞