#as brynn and i discovered

[drowsyanddazed]

this has gotta be the worst take i have ever seen

[dabs-into-oblivion]

"Astarion means 'little star' because that's what Asterion means in Greek mythology"

you do you. however, i'm sick of seeing this because, to me, it completely erases the actual elven culture in Faerûn and the Forgotten Realms more generally. like have y'all forgotten that the game is set in the Dungeons & Dragons world? anyway

in this video,

Brynn dissects some of the possible meanings of Astarion's names. i'll summarize.

"ion", "dewdrop"

"io" + "in", elided to "iōn", "one who moves among/around"

"aster", "power" (i don't vibe with this one because there is no E in Astarion's name)

"aestar", "hearts, minds, essences"

"tar", "soul, blood; people, group, clan"

"tàr/taer", "young, new, recent" (is very common in child names)

"às/aes", "hunted"

potential meanings for the full name include:

"essence of a dewdrop"

"one who moves among hearts"

and his surname, Ancunín:

"nín", from "nì", a common surname ending meaning "cut of cloth"

"an", "hand"

"ku", "to learn/discover"

so Ancunín pretty decisively means "of those who learn by hand."

[rebouks]

Oscar slid off the couch and sighed wearily, of course Courtney wanted to help; he could’ve guessed she’d feel indebted to Brynn. He wondered what the hell she saw in Wyatt, whether the feelings between them were as mutual as he’d implied, whether she’d even want him to follow her. Was it possible that he’d changed his ways? It certainly seemed that way, though he could just as easily be manipulating Oscar into thinking so, how else would he have convinced him to help?

He replayed their interactions with one another again and again, desperately trying to decipher Wyatt’s true intent until a flash of ginger distracted him-.. Robin was hovering behind the doorframe, peering at his father intently.

Oscar: How long have you been there, mister?

[Robin shrugged, quite happy to join Oscar now that he’d been discovered]

Oscar: What’d I tell you about eavesdropping? Robin: Why is it naughty? Oscar: Some conversations are meant to be private, that’s all.

Robin sucked his thumb thoughtfully, he didn’t quite understand the concept of privacy; not that it mattered, he could’ve observed his parents’ conversation from upstairs if he’d wanted to. He briefly thought about asking Oscar who Brynn was, but he’d be giving himself away if he did, and listening in on people was taboo-.. apparently.

He knew what she looked like by now, but he didn’t really understand how his parents knew her, or why everyone was so worried; especially the angry man who’d appeared on their doorstep the previous morning. Robin wasn’t sure he liked that man’s head. It was cold and miserable, much like his mothers could be sometimes; particularly tonight when she’d first thought about Brynn, or when she thought about the past, her childhood, when she left big school, when she looked at him…

Although.. tonight had been a little different, strange almost; it was part of the reason he’d ventured downstairs in the first place. It wasn’t uncommon for him to listen to his parents talk when he should’ve been asleep, it was impossible to tune out, after all; but the shift in Courtney’s mood had compelled him to leave the warmth of his duvet behind and study her more closely.

If he understood what it meant, he would’ve used the word relief; but despite his limited repertoire of vocabulary, Robin could tell she felt a whole lot lighter. A weight she’d been carrying around-.. a weight that surrounded that hooded man had dissipated, leaving behind a morose curiosity rather than the black pit of doubt that’d been there previously.

Sighing as wearily as his father had, he wished he knew how to ask her what was wrong sometimes; there was so much he didn’t understand.

Oscar: I think it’s bedtime, don’t you? Robin: Can I sleep with you and mama? Oscar: Sure you can, bud.

Previous // Next

Author’s note: Okay, so I figured I’d explain a few things myself since Robin’s capabilities are slightly hindered by his age, bless him! I rambled about this somewhere, but in case it got buried this is what I meant by the fact that everything links back to Robin, even when I spend time with other characters (for the most part, anyhoo).

So, in this case Robin has picked up on the fact that Courtney feels like a weight’s been lifted off her shoulders after being told about Brynn and Wyatt; although she doesn’t particularly understand their relationship, if Oscar of all people thought he was being genuine then he must feel something real toward Brynn, right? And if he’s capable of love, maybe she didn’t make a mistake back when she forced Oscar to let him go, maybe she was right and he really did deserve a second chance?

What if, even after everything, he was just misunderstood? She saw how that lifestyle affected Oscar in such a short period of time in comparison, god knows what it’d to do someone who grew up surrounded by it. She knows how heavy a shitty childhood can feel, and how it affects the ways you think, act etc. She hasn’t quite picked it apart yet, but she feels a little bit better? She’s worried about Brynn of course, but still, maybe she doesn’t need to feel quite so guilty about her decision anymore, maybe…

Wyatt’s love for Brynn reluctantly brought him to Oscar, who begrudgingly seems to have realised he was being genuine, which in turn makes Courtney reevaluate her guilt/uncertainty about letting Wyatt go, which then makes Robin feel better because he can tell something inside his mama is shifting a lil bit-.. like being around her might not be so wearisome/dark anymore, which is why he wants to sleep with them, so he can enjoy feeling close to her in this rare moment of lightness and so he can try and make sense of the why.

Am I making sense? I hope I’m making sense…

[astor-and-the-endless-ink]

Astor’s Intro

✦ Christian

✦ 17

✦ She/he/they

✦ This is my writing and character art blog!

✦ @encre-sanguine is my main blog :3

✦ I change my name a lot, but I’ll always keep the and-the-endless-ink part so yk who I am XP

Works In Progress

🪽💫 The Gift and the Ghostspeaker 🌙🤍

-> Masterpost Link Here <-

On the planet of Zephan, three teenagers live their lives the way they always have.

Rhys Lucen—the son of the world’s ruler, the Ghostspeaker—lives in luxury with his family, including his secret and possibly cursed half-sister, Brynn. But when word gets out that three-year-old Brynn is alive, people start to panic and riot, and Rhys has to run for his and Brynn’s lives, aided by the same Ghosts that his father has the Gift of speaking to…

Sterling Pierce and his sister, Sage, struggle to survive their abusive Mage father’s magic addiction—which he feeds using them as an endless supply. But Sterling has the Gift of using magic as well, so when his father threatens to murder the siblings in a fit of rage, Sterling uses his power to fight back—killing his father, and nearly killing Sage by mistake. Now she needs a magic transfusion bigger than what any hospital on Zephan can provide, and there's only one way to gather more…

Kairo Rayos is descended from a long line of Ghostspeakers—one that ended with his infamous immortal father, Lev, who started the Lunari Alliance to fight the Ghosts’ rebellion against the Creator God, Solaios. Now Lev has been banished to the abandoned Blanklands surrounding Zephan City, and Kairo, thanks to a deal his father struck with the Ghostspeaker, is safe inside—but most Zephnic people don’t take kindly to followers of Solaios, especially immortal ones, and all Kai wants is peace. This kind of peace, however, can only come through the afterlife, and as his family and therapist are always quick to tell him, immortals can’t die. But when proof appears that they can—and have, as an immortal’s dead body was found in the Blanklands, seemingly murdered—Kai sets out to find the killer, and through them, eternal peace…

As Rhys finds himself assigned a seemingly impossible task from the Ghosts—killing every living immortal—and Sterling teams up with him to collect the immortals’ magic for Sage, they discover that things are not what they seem on Zephan, and that they're included in a prophecy called The End of Immortality. The question is whether or not the prophecy is true, let alone morally right—and will they find the supposed ‘chosen one’, who happens to be trying to get himself killed?

💚🗡 This Blood Will Remember ✒️🩷

Okay so it’s basically just vibes rn but I love it, stay tuned?

♠️♥️ Unsuited ♦️♣️

The Game for the Unsuited has officially reopened - and Alana Hargreaves, a girl with no proficiency in any of the four Suits of magic, is the first of the chosen Pawns.

She has a plan to win the Game without playing by the rules; anyone who had ever won before had gotten in, gone a bit insane thanks to the Game's mysterious challenges, developed Sanity magic, and gotten out. But if everything goes according to plan, Alana - and her best friend, Penn, who was chosen for the Game the year before - will learn a different Suit of magic and, once no longer Unsuited, be allowed to go back home.

But as Alana realizes upon entering the Game's giant forcefield, there are two problems with her plan:

One, Unsuited Pawns aren't the only ones playing - in fact, the Game is practically ruled by a Queen of Hearts Mage, and she doesn't want any of her victims to leave.

Two, Penn has almost lost her mind already, but Sanity wouldn't be her first Suit of magic; she now wields the legendary, reality-altering Suit of Creativity.

As Alana investigates Penn's strange new abilities and befriends other residents of the Game - including the Queen of Hearts' messenger brother, Ace, and Charlie, the Game's built-in AI assistant whose origins are somewhat murky - she discovers that the reason for the Game is darker than anyone would have guessed, and that to make it out alive she'll need more than her sanity...but will she fight her way out, or give in and give up her mind in the process?

🩸👻 Destined for Death 🕳️✉️

Nicholas Acker is a ghost—and a special one, because not every ghost can say they were killed by their best friend…who also happens to be a half-vampire-half-bloodwielder.

Jameson, said best friend, feels terrible for accidentally killing Nick—especially considering that he just got engaged.

So Jamie does what any decent gentleman would do: set out to kill Nick’s fiancee so they can be together in the afterlife.

But when Jamie’s undercover-vampire-hunter twin shows up at Nick’s funeral, bringing with him a whole new set of complications, and Nick runs into a teenage ghost with dreams of curing vampirism, they all have to team up to save themselves—and all vampires with hope of becoming human again.

💎⏳ The Soulrobbers 🗡🪨

It’s been a long time and I don't have a synopsis and I’m too lazy to write one, basically it’s about rocks with your souls in them and fighting over them like kindergarteners XD

[maitaiwiththecorpses]

haven't posted tpq in a while so here's some hc's for y'all thirsty bitches

Aru learns how to knit, eventually, once things settle down. It's her one and only brainless activity that feels productive

Aiden really sucks at drawing, believe it or not. He can't paint or do art for shit.

Brynne is really into pottery (???) and she and Hira take a couples pottery class that ends... messily

Hira learns how to bake under Brynne, and eventually (lowkey) becomes a better baker than her. Sure, Brynne still cooks better, but Hira's just better at baking

Brynne's not mad that Hira's better than her. It's not a problem.

Everyone's really surprised that Brynne isn't upset that Hira's a better baker than her

Rudy discovers Chappell Roan and becomes obsessed

Rudy pulls up outside Mini's house one day with "HOT TO GO" blasting and gets arrested for disrupting the neighbors

this happens at three am

Mini knows how to play the piano (I think this is confirmed in the series???) BUT she only likes playing Taylor Swift because I SAID SO

And that's about all the fuel I have for today! Lmk if you have any tpq suggestions or prompts you want me to write (send in an ask and I'll probably bang it out)

[satansapostle6]

X

Josh Futturman has always had a crush on his beautiful coworker, the sharp, sexy scientist he thought he could only ever dream of talking to.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Sexual content.

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen: Living The Life

“Babe, can you drive?” Josh chuckled as he stumbled along with Brynne out to the parking lot.

“Yes, sweetheart, of course,” she agreed, taking her car keys from him.

“Thank you!” Josh chuckled, awkwardly running to the car.

“You’re welcome, my love.”

They had just left the bowling alley after meeting Ray and his new girlfriend there. Brynne had offered to drive, considering she knew Ray would probably ask Josh to drink with him, but Josh had insisted on driving there. But naturally, he had asked Brynne if he could drive her car, considering he loved driving her car. He thought it was the coolest car on earth.

The two of them got into the car, as Josh sat in the passenger’s seat, drunk giggling as he put on his seatbelt, or at least tried to. Josh had only had a couple beers, but he was quite the lightweight.

“Your place, yeah?” she asked as she pulled out of the parking lot.

“Can we go to your place?” Josh asked her. “I don’t wanna go to my parents’.”

“My place?” she questioned.

Although Josh had picked her up from her own house on many occasions, they had never actually hung out at her house. Josh thought it was strange that he and Brynn were dating, but he’d never actually been inside her house at all.

“Yeah, your place,” he nodded. “Why? You don’t want me in your house?” he asked sadly, making a pouty face.

“No, no,” she promised him, remembering that she was dealing with tipsy Josh. “It’s not that, it’s just… I like your place.”

“Really?” he scoffed. “But my parents…!” he slurred.

“Yeah, they’re nice,” Brynne laughed. “I don’t live with my parents… I don’t even talk to my parents.”

“Can we go to your place?” Josh pleaded. “I wanna see your place. Please…?”

“Yes, of course we can,” she nodded, driving in that direction. “You don’t have to ask.”

“Yay!”

Brynne just laughed, shaking her head as she drove. Her own place was a bit further of a drive, but they were there before Josh fell asleep. As they got out of the car, Brynne observed that Josh had mostly sobered up.

“Okay, here we are,” she announced, parking her car in the driveway.

“Your place is so nice,” Josh stared as she unlocked the door.

There was a fountain not far from the door, a very modern, minimalistic sort of thing that just looked like water being poured over a dark wall.

“We haven’t even been inside yet,” she scoffed, opening the door for him.

Josh stepped inside as she closed the door behind them, in awe of her home. The ceiling in the foyer was at least ten feet tall, with a crystal chandelier hanging above. And the floors were marble. To Josh, her place looked like a palace. There was a long staircase leading upstairs, and a hallway that led to the rest of the downstairs.

“Hachi machi,” he murmured. “This place is insane!”

Brynne just smiled, still never sure what to do when people complimented her house. Sure, she’d worked for all the money herself, but she still never knew how to respond.

“Come on. Bedroom’s upstairs,” she smiled.

“Do I take off my shoes?” Josh asked in bewilderment.

“Baby, I don’t care, the floors are hardwood.”

Josh followed Brynne upstairs, to the biggest bedroom in the house. She had a huge amount of space, a beautiful dark wood bedroom set, and a set of silk sheets. He was in awe of the walk-in closet, which looked like its own tiny bedroom.

He wandered into her bathroom like a lost child, discovering a beautiful, high-tech sort of shower, along with a luxurious jacuzzi tub.

“Whoa…!” he gasped.

“You want me to run us a bath?” Brynne asked him, reading his mind.

“Please,” he nodded, taking his time to look around.

He returned to the bedroom, sitting down on her California king-sized bed as she took off her jacket, stripping down to her underwear. As always, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Your place is… amazing,” he told her.

“Thank you,” she smiled softly.

“They really do pay you well,” Josh remarked.

“Yeah. Kronish is great,” she agreed, heading into the bathroom to get a bath running.

Josh watched as she turned the water on, waiting for the jacuzzi tub to fill.

“Bowling was so fun,” he laughed. “Man. Ray’s girlfriend is really nice.”

“Yeah, she is,” Brynne smiled. “It was really sweet when she told me how pretty I am… I had to make sure she knew I thought the same of her.”

Josh began taking his clothes off, nervous about where to put them as he stood in his underwear in the bathroom.

“You can just set them on the counter,” Brynne told him, as she walked in, long strawberry blonde hair pinned up in a clip.

He set the clothes on the white marble counter, gulping when he saw who he’d just recently realized was his girlfriend. He knew he’d never quite get over how she looked naked, not even in a sexual manner, but just out of sheer awe. She slowly stepped into the bathtub, sighing as she threw her head back. Josh slid his underwear down before climbing in and joining her, sitting across from her in the warm water.

“Why don’t we do stuff at your place?” he wondered.

Brynne felt guilty as she tried to explain, watching as he tried to come up with his own rationalization.

“Do you not want me here?” he wondered. “Cuz, I could understand that, I mean… I’d probably make a mess of this place.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” she sighed, trying to explain.

“I mean, your place is awesome,” he scoffed.

“I know,” she sighed, “That’s the problem. My place has the jacuzzi tub, and the art I paid someone to buy for me, and the silk sheets. It’s a total bachelor pad.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Josh wondered, rubbing at his beard.

“It’s… It’s a good place to bring a date. It’s a good place to hook up,” she thought.

“What’s so bad about that?” Josh asked with a smile.

“I like your place better,” she said exhaustedly.

“What’s so cool about my place?” he wondered.

“It’s nice! And your parents are nice! Your place has more personality. My place is just meant to look good,” Brynne expressed.

“I think your place has personality,” Josh said softly. “I think it looks like you because it looks good.”

She smiled, appreciating the sentiment as she tried to rephrase her thoughts.

“Yeah, but… My place is for dating. Your place is for marriage,” she pointed out.

Josh looked at her curiously, a surprised smile on his face as he processed what she’d just said.

“You… You’d marry me?” he asked her.

“Yeah, I think so!” she nodded. “Some day.”

He smiled with immense emotion in his eyes, understanding what she meant now.

“I’m… I’m glad we both feel the same way,” he murmured, watching her as she moved so that she was next to him.

“I love you, Josh,” she said as he wrapped his arm around her.

“I love you, Brynne,” he said for the second time, grinning as she leaned in to kiss him.

He thought life couldn’t get any better than this. He moved his hand so that it was on her cheek, slightly reaching up into her hair as his lips mingled with hers for a moment.

“God, you’re just… You’re just so beautiful,” he whined affectionately as he pulled away.

He stopped to look at her, to admire her, taking in her perfect physique beneath the bubbles, and her beautiful face. Brynne sighed, cupping his face in her hands as he smiled up at her with the widest eyes she’d ever seen. He genuinely couldn’t stop smiling; he looked giddy just to be looking at her.

“You really are the sweetest, most handsome boy in the world,” she whispered.

“I love you so much,” he sighed.

“I promise I love you more, Josh Futturman,” she said with satisfaction.

“Brynne?” he piped up, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I want my mommy,” he mumbled, nuzzling his head into her body.

“Oh, come here, baby,” she said, turning her body so that he could lay his head on her bare chest.

Josh excitedly rested his head chest as she held him, neatly stroking his hair as he let out a happy whine, never wanting to leave that position for the rest of his life.

*****

Brynne tried to tip-toe and move around her bedroom quietly as she woke up for work. But as soon as she had gotten out of bed and carefully replaced her warm body with a pillow for Josh to lay on, he had woken up.

“Baby?” he sat up sleepily. “Where you going?”

She could tell he was only half awake.

“Go back to bed, baby, it’s your day off,” she whispered.

“No… I wanna say ‘bye’ to you,” he protested through a yawn.

She just sighed in amusement, making the most of the situation. Fully aware that he was watching, she turned on the bathroom light so he could just barely see her, playfully stripping down to nothing in front of him before shutting the bathroom door. Josh sighed dreamily as he fell back onto the bed, smiling up at the ceiling.

“I have the best life ever.”

-

Chapter Fifteen

[bakersimmer]

Omg, you're so close to 20 generations! I discovered your legacy back when you were posting about gen 6. The Millers are practically fam to me now 😭 So how many kids is Robin gonna have? Where do their names come from?

Hey! 👋🏻💛 Robin and Brynn have only one kid.

[sleep-can-wait]

Aru: I'm fluent in Spanish, you know

Aru: It was all thanks to these extremely educational videos I watched as a kid on a Mexican girl going through a hectic life, saving endangered species and learning valuable life lessons throughout her journeys as well as discovering thousands of fascinating things throughout the world.

Brynne: Oh really? Then what was this so-called show called?

Aru: Dora the Explorer

[affidecrystal]

A Blood So Sweet-A Kindle Vella Serial

With the threat of eviction looming over her, college coed Brynn Smith makes the decision to download the controversial Benefactor App onto her phone. Quickly matched with billionaire Sugar Daddy (and Vampire, unbeknownst to Brynn) Nikolai Draven, she believes her luck in life and love has finally changed. But when Nik discovers her hidden secret, their transaction unravels, putting Brynn in mortal danger. Can he keep his new lover safe? Or is she doomed to suffer a fate worse than death?

Hi Lovelies!

I have dipped my toes into the new(ish) platform on Amazon, Kindle Vella. It’s very similar to Wattpad or AO3, but specifically made for original stories. I’m so excited to give Vella a try and hope you are too!! Right now you can read the first three episodes of A Blood So Sweet for FREE…and if you’re a new reader, Amazon will give you 200 FREE tokens! Episode 4 is only 24 tokens! I had a blast writing this story (it has everything-lust, love, smut, secrets, angst, darkness, a HEA). I adore Nik and Brynn 💖💖💖

Click the link below to read the first three episodes for FREE!

[annikin-annotates]

Within a Wing Beat - The Blood Rite - Part II

Pairing: Aemond X Fem!OC

WC: 7.1K

Reblogs Appreciated!

Cluethael

The year had come to a close rather quickly, they had covered stances, fighting tactics, and discovered their preferred weaponry, They also learnt how to identify and dress wounds accordingly, often having to suture and dress their own when they occurred. It wasn’t an easy journey, for Cluethael especially, who had to learn, practice and dine on her own. The first few months the loneliness had been excruciating, as was the hurt of her friend abandoning her. But she had pushed through, and now it was the night before the Blood Rite. 

“You better watch your back, we will come for you, you ruminating cunt,” Brynn hissed at her, holding her fingers to her forehead to represent horns. Cluethael felt her stomach twist painfully as she rolled on her side in her cot, closing her eyes to get some sleep, gods know she was going to need it. 

The Blood rite was a great honour to participate in, she reasoned with herself, it is a ceremony to weed out the weak and allow the strong to flourish. Nothing she could tell herself would ever be able to bring her to terms with the fact that she may not survive past tomorrow. She may not live to grow old, to marry, to bear children and bring forth a new line of heirs; she would give anything to tell her past self to run away and never look back. 

The cot creaked as she rolled onto her back, staring at the wooden beams that held the thatch roof over their heads. It sounded silly, but the beams had become her friends during her stay. She would tell them the details of her day, however small; she liked to pretend that they were her father. She murmured a prayer that she had not heard since she left her home:

“Kostilus gaomagon daor rual morghon naejot gūrogon ñuha riña,” 

Please do not allow death to take me. 

“Kostagon se ra isse se guēsin henujagon nyke sagon,’

May the things in the forest leave me be.

“Istin return lenton,”

I must return home.

“Mīsagon nyke hen ōdrikagon” 

Protect me from harm.

Sleep was torn from her in the wee hours of the morning by the thunderous beating of drums to herald the Blood Rite. They dressed silently, all of them in leathers that suddenly looked far too big for them. Cluethael silently ate her porridge as she listened to the low hum of chatter between the girls around her as they prepared for the Rite. The food seemed to sour and turn to ash in her mouth, but she forced it down as best she could, as it would be her last proper meal for a while. 

She threw her legs back over the bench seat she occupied at the table she inhabited by herself and turned to exit the mess hall. It was a stunning morning, a powdery robin’s egg blue blanketed them as far as she could see; soft clouds floated by lazily, she couldn’t help but begin to feel sick at the thought of what was to come.

Anxiety prickled all over her body as she slowly inched up the line to be fitted with all the necessary tools needed for the Rite. She tried not to crane her neck to see where the others were being led to, she would find out soon enough. As much as she tried to calm herself, her body would not settle; she picked nervously at her cuticles as her toes wriggled restlessly in her boots. 

She was unaware that Runa was behind her until a small, cold hand reached out for her own, a silent offer of comfort for the both of them. She ripped her hand away from Runa’s as if she had been burned by her very touch, “I thought you didn’t mingle with cattle anymore,” she spat. Runa offered no reply. Soon enough it was her turn to be led into the tent she had seen all the other girls enter. 

They blindfolded her immediately, disembodied hands gripped her arms roughly and forced them outwards, slipping a contraption over both of her shoulders before binding her hands behind her back. She fought the urge to let out a frightened cry at her treatment. She wasn’t sure what they placed on her but it made her shoulders stiff and was tight around her waist, it made her wings ache under the strain.

A taloned hand gripped her painfully; she couldn’t see anything, but she could feel the transition from the coldness of the tent to the warmth of the sun on her skin. She could hear sobbing and sniffles, hushed chatter and prayers to the gods. 

The gods would not help them.

“Recruits,” a stern voice started, all crying and conversations ceased. 

“You have the honour of participating in the Rite,” another started; she could feel the buzz of tension around her. “You will be taken to the base of the mountain, from there you will be untied and your blindfolds will be removed. You have seven days to reach the summit and place your chosen stone at the monolith,” she finished.

Fear roiled within her as a rope was placed in both of her bound hands, the coarseness grounded her and offered her comfort in the uncertainty. Her group stumbled and tumbled through the underbrush, the biting chill of the snow capped mountain becoming more apparent the further they trekked. The change from grass to snow was sudden, the tread on the bottom of her shoe offering little against the cold that was already blooming in her toes. 

Her nose collided with the solid form in front of her and the rope binding her hand was cut. She instinctively rubbed her wrists, trying to get rid of the itchiness that lingered. She stood frozen for a moment, both unwilling and too frightened to move. Her blindfold was removed and the blinding light caused her to squint, lifting her hand to shield her eyes. She looked around for any sign of another person, a Valkyrie - or a recruit. 

Not a soul was near her. She must have collided with the back of her guide, she shook the thought from her head - it didn’t matter now. What mattered was reaching the summit and surviving. She picked up the length of rope used to guide her to where she was, she didn’t know if she would need it - but it was better safe than sorry. 

The main part of her first day was spent walking; she had ambled aimlessly through dense underbrush, avoiding low hanging branches and fallen logs. Feeling the sun become warmer as the day progressed; she had never seen this part of the mountain, just a glimpse of it when she flew over years ago; the obelisk atop the mountain now a distant memory. A pleasant tune was carried through the trees by Mockingbirds, if it weren’t for the feeling of impending doom; it would have been a nice walk.  

She regretted ever wanting to participate in the Rite.

Winter had never felt so bitter before, this one was not spent with her family reading under the blanket, nor by the fireside she had grown to tolerate. She was alone, cold and fighting for her life, with only herself to blame for it all. She could have deserted the camp, turned tail and ran at the first opportunity, or refused when they took her from her home. Her mother allowed her to be taken, and Emerie before her. The very thought sparked a fire that fuelled the bitterness simmering in her for so long began to rear its head. 

She stumbled and wandered through the trees for hours, stopping to check her surroundings and pick up any rocks she could use as improvised weapons. She had scaled the trunk of a pine tree, finding refuge for a few hours of rest before she continued on her ascent at the first light of dawn. 

She had taken the time to fashion herself a dagger from the oval shaped rock she had chosen the day she had arrived, the one she needed to take to the summit. Spending the afternoon and well into the night chipping away at it with another small stone - sharpening both sides but leaving enough space for her hand to grip it without being injured.

At some point during the night she had drifted into a light sleep, both rocks still in her lap. A blood curdling scream woke her, ice filled her veins as she peered from between the leaves of the tree. The forest surrounding her was almost pitch black, she could barely make out the outline of a person. And something big.

Very big, she thought.

It was thirty paces behind her, eyes so yellow they looked like golden coins. Its body was tall and lithe, streamlined for the hunt. Large feathered wings hung from its sides, like an unholy combination of wolf and owl - a Fenris. Stalking its prey like a shadow, it was so quiet she wouldn’t have noticed it, despite the beast’s size. She didn’t know what to do, did she try to help? Or did she stay put and let the Blood Rite weed out the ones not meant to be here?

The Rite is a place to allow scores to be settled, a voice crooned, a shiver ran down her spine, it sounded like it was coming from all around her.  

She decided to let nature take its course. Her hands firmly planted over her ears to block out the screaming - the feasting happening below her. She was terrified, she was cold - she missed her family and she missed her bed. She just wanted it all to go away.

It is smart to only move in the day time, lest you become like all the would be Valkyries that came before, a voice hummed, an eerie delight dancing in the statement. She didn’t dare answer it; the last thing she wanted was for the beast below to be alerted to her presence. So she waited with bated breath, unable to move a muscle as she listened to the sounds around her. 

With the dawn came safety.

The bitter chill roused her from the fitful slumber she had fallen into, the sky was trimmed with its silvery hue before the sun began to rise. She surveyed the land around her; from this height she could see a relatively clear path over the trees and towards the slope of the mountain. It couldn’t be that easy, surely. 

She untied the length of rope that kept her firmly planted in the tree; ignoring the biting pain in her palms as she slid down the final few feet of the trunk, her feet planted firmly on the ground. Snow crunching underfoot, she tried her best to look away from the unrecognisable body that sat in a tattered heap just to the left of the path she had been walking on to find the tree. 

Large prints were still visible in the snow, a single paw print was two feet across and almost as deep. She couldn’t contain the fear that prickled the base of her spine.  If she was going to have any chance of survival she needed to use every tactic she had learned over the last year. 

There would be no fire lit to keep her warm through the night, or to soothe the dull ache in her legs. The last thing she wished was to draw the attention of the same fanged beast that tore a girl to shreds the night before; she shuddered at the memory. So she chose the cold, to be cold was to be alive, she reasoned. 

None of the trees around her were strong enough to hold her weight, all of them too thin to climb or too short to hide in. She didn’t know what to do; if she continued to walk she risked death by creatures unknown and if she stayed she risked freezing to death in the snow. That’s when she saw it, as if by magic, a rotted tree stood tall across the clearing; if she could make it she would live to see another day

A steady inhale calmed her, the hot breath clouding the air in front of her. Everything in that moment felt so loud, the singing birds, the snow beneath her feet and the sound of her own breath. She inched herself out of the thicket and into the clearing to cross, safety only stood a hundred paces away. 

“Hey!” a voice shrieked. Her head snapped in the direction of the voice only seeing a glimpse of red hair before taking off; darting across the clearing and into the densely packed woodland on the other side, hoping to lose them. 

She had been found - not by one of the bloodthirsty creatures that roamed the woods, but by her own comrades. Though the situation terrified her, she wasn’t surprised - the Blood Rite was about settling scores as well as reaching the summit. She knew that in her heart she would either kill or be killed.

And she was not ready to die.

The Fenris stalks these woods, use it to your advantage, that haggard voice whispered. 

Several pairs of feet hurried after her, cackling wickedly; calling her names. “What’s the matter? Too scared to fight us?” one girl taunted, she didn’t dare look behind her to see who it was. She did her best to take deep and calm breaths, forcing as much of the icy air into her lungs as they would allow. That familiar deep burning bloomed in her chest as she forced herself to pick up her pace, the group quickly gaining on her. 

She needed to figure out a plan, quickly. With haste, she made a sharp right, heading into the dense forest, hoping she could stall enough to pull it off. She hid behind a large evergreen, grabbing a handful of snow and shoving it into her mouth to stop her breath from fogging and giving her spot away. She couldn’t stop her hands from trembling as she untied the rope from around her waist and fished the sharpened stone from her sleeve. Her teeth chattered and ached as she wrapped the hemp rope around the stone, crafting a makeshift rope dart. 

The very same rope that sentenced her to death was the very thing that would save her life. 

Harsh whispers alerted her to their presence, “Where did she go?” one asked.

“How would I know? Just find her,” another bit back. 

She swallowed thickly. In the commotion, through the pounding of her heartbeat and trying to steady her breath, four voices can be made out, albeit garbled she is certain they are dangerous. To survive this ordeal she would need to be smart - pick them off one by one. Let their own thirst for blood take them out, or let the Fenris do most of the work. She swallowed the now melted snow in her mouth to replace it with more as she peered around the tree. The group were about a hundred paces away, with Brynn leading the pack.

Her breath began to quicken, her heart thrumming with a mixture of fear and anticipation, causing the veins in her neck to throb. Her teeth chattered and ground against each other, her jaw tensed alongside her body. She felt the rough bark of the tree she leant against in a poor attempt to ground herself. Every fibre of her being wanted her to turn and run, but she knew that it would only prolong the inevitable. Either they died, or she did. 

Her talons bit into the bark, the small chips splintering under her grip as she closed her eyes and drew in a deep, slow breath. Trying to quell the feelings coursing through her body, blood bubbled and fizzed beneath her skin.

The group was closer now, about twenty five paces away.

In the heat of combat, Cluethael's focus narrowed to the girl in front of her. Survive, she needs to win this to stay alive. She will not die in this forest trapped like a rat, she repeated in her head like a prayer. There is the background noise of yelling and screaming from the fight Cluethael is stuck in the middle of; a snarl throws her off for a moment, pulling her back to her own body. 

She watched the large Fenris silently slink out of the cluster of evergreens, recognizing the jagged and blood stained teeth poking out from its maw, the same on from the night before; its focus was on the pair who were fighting. Both of them now rooted to the snow in fear. Hot breath came from its nose in bursts of thick smoke. Its alarmingly yellow eyes connected on her, it made her heart stop for a moment. It was so much more fearsome than she had imagined, the growl the beast elicited rattled the very bones inside her. 

At first there was an eerie quiet that settled over them, neither of them sure of what to do. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest as she slowly inched her way back towards the woods. She caught her lip between her teeth as she watched Brynn’s eyes flickered to hers, and she also slowly began to back away towards the tree line. Neither were prepared for when her heel caught on a rock behind her; she stumbled backwards and fell onto her back.

The Fenris wasted no time going in for the kill.

Her heart seized as she jumped to her feet and began to run, the surprise triggering the Fenris to attack Brynn with a ferocity that was unmatched. Barely able to hold down the bile in her empty stomach, Cluethael was able to hear the shrieks of her would-be attacker slice through the air suddenly stop. A cold sense of dread filled her, but her body made her push on deeper into the forest - and further up towards the mountain. 

Her teeth chattered and her legs shook from exertion, the snow she ran through was deeper than she’s ever seen. She could see the sky through the cracks between the dense pines, it was darkened, the final warmth of the day leaving behind a befitting crimson glow. An eerie feeling of being watched washed over her, her head snapping to her left and then to her right. Nobody was behind her, either. She wasn’t sure what was worse: someone stalking her from within the woods or her own paranoia eating away at her. 

She was about to brush it off as her own paranoia when a sudden crack alerted her of a nearby presence. Her heart rate spiked as the chase began once more. She took off into the thicket, hoping to lose whoever, or whatever, was chasing her. 

The woods around her were blurred with how fast her feet carried her, vicious laughter mocking her from a few feet behind. The ivory crystals crushed underfoot as she pushed herself further into the densely packed conifers and pines. Her calves burned and begged for her to stop, but she pushed on. 

She made the grievous mistake of looking over her shoulder as she ran, she stumbled on an upturned root. Her body splayed out uncomfortably as she slid a few feet, the snow burning her skin. Clambering to her feet, she began to run once more, leaping to clear fallen logs and ducking under low hanging branches. 

Cluethael had once again found refuge in a pine tree, she climbed to the highest point she could get to, talons splintering and snapping and she clawed her way up the tree. Her lip began to tremble again as the slaughter repeated in her head again and again, the chase, the fight, then the screams. She cried herself to sleep, her cold hand gripping that delicate seven pointed star. 

Tears shed last night turned her eyes bleary the next morning, it felt as though sand had been thrown into her eyes, the felt gritty and dry. After the slaughter last night, there wasn’t much else to do but to move forward. She could scout the area and find a vantage point, where she sat in the pine gave her a great view of where she was in terms of beginning to scale the mountain. If she kept heading north-east, she could be at the base of the mountain by nightfall, ready to begin her ascent by the next day. 

Fate had other plans, it seemed.

The footsteps behind Cluethael became louder and louder; no matter how fast she ran, they were never far behind. In her haste to clear another fallen pine her ankle gave way, an ugly crunch reverberating through her body as she cried out; she was splayed out in a tangle of her own limbs on the freezing ground. 

Small hands pressed down on her throat, cutting vital oxygen from her brain. Blind panic overcame her as she struggled against the girl choking her, she was a familiar face - an unkind one, but familiar all the same. Her talons dug into her attackers hands, hard enough to draw golden ichor, her attacker did not yield to her desperate clawing and kicking. She wasn’t sure what else to do - so she simply stopped fighting. Her head rested against the hard snow, allowing it to soak into her braided hair. There was a calm, as she closed her eyes and then a sudden absence.

Death did not come. Not for her. 

A thick wetness dripped onto her boots, she cracked open her eyes, only to have wished she kept them closed. Hanging almost vertically above her feet was the impaled body of her attacker, their wild hair caked with blood and dirt. Her head hung limply, pain still etched on her face as her green eyes stared down at her, lifeless. A frightened cry ripped from her throat and her heart leapt from her chest as her eyes flicked to the looming figure about ten paces from her. 

The creature had to be over six foot tall, it wore a dark brown shroud and blended almost seamlessly into the trees around them. The way it moved was similar to how she thought a ghost would move, gliding silently from tree to tree; edging closer to her. She pushed off from the ground to begin running only for her to falter and fall into the snow once more. She found herself pushing her body backwards using her hands and one good leg, trying to retreat into the snow. 

Her back hit the sturdiness of a pine, her heart sat in her throat and breathing became difficult. She was going to die, this was it - she would meet the same end of all the unworthy who tried before her. She could see what it was now - a Borshee.

You are not like those who came before. 

She swore she heard it talk, but its lips remained unmoving. She watched on in horror from outside of her body as the creature inched closer to her. Borshee’s were notorious for their vengeful spirit and bloodlust, having derived their strength from wars and those willing to share their rage.  

The Borshee’s face was haggard, lips taught and pulled back, exposing its wide and off putting mouth. Its eyes were milky white and glazed over, a gaping hole in its face where its nose should have been. Angular cheekbones pulled pallid skin taught, a distinct lack of hair made it look more monstrous than the smell was. The stench was rancid, it smelled of iron and fear.

It smelled like death. 

She fought the urge to run away, every fibre inside of her told her - screamed at her to run. She noticed the talons on the Borshee, chipped and blood stained; another reminder that the creature was lethal. Capable of killing her without sparing a second glance, the thought made her flinch away from the shrouded skeletal body towering over her out of instinct. And yet in her moment of weakness, it extended its hand.

Why?

The Borshee’s grip was firm in contrast to the frail look that it sported, lifting her exhausted body to its feet again like it was nothing. Her injured leg was bent slightly, to keep pressure off  her broken ankle,  “Why did you save me?” she asked, her voice trembling as she blinked the fearful tears out of her eyes.

“Because your time here is not up yet. There is more for you to do,” it replied simply. Her eyes widened in realisation, that voice was the same one that was crooning to her in the tree, about the Fenris and the Rite. It was the Borshee the entire time. 

An incredulous laugh escaped her, “It was you - you this entire time?” 

Despite its milky eyes she could almost see delight dancing in them, as if it enjoyed her world crumbling around her. Realisation struck her, Borshee’s were creatures that derived its powers from making pacts, information in exchange for an unknown price.  

She didn’t care what the price of surviving was, she would gladly pay it if it meant she could return home. “Please. I’ll do anything, just help me survive this,” she pleaded, her voice thick with desperation. It said nothing, but held out its shrivelled, corpse-like hand.

Satisfaction flashed across the Borshee’s withered face, “Once this exchange is done, there is no going back,” it explained to her, “I will give you the information you need for survival, but I will take something from you.”

She nodded, uncaring to the consequences. “Take anything, I care not what it is. Tell me how to survive this,” her voice sounded strained, hoarse from fighting back tears. 

Their intertwined hands began to glow, the Borshee’s magic manifesting in the form of a deep crimson, like blood. Other than the tingling in her hand, she felt no different. She still had both wings, legs, and a heartbeat. “What did you take from me?” she asked, her tone sharp. 

It grinned at her, exposing more of its blackened gums than she thought was possible, its teeth brown and rotted. It raised its bony arm, a spindly finger outstretched and completely disregarding her question. “Follow the Hellebore, it will grant you safe passage,” it offered cryptically before vanishing in a wisp of grey smoke. She couldn’t fight the shudder that crawled up from the base of her spine. 

The first thing she needed to do was assess her ankle, the pain slowly becoming more and more severe, her once loose pants leg now taught across her shin: a sure sign of a break. Binding it would be the best option; it would slow her down significantly, but at least she would still be moving. Better that than dying.  

She snapped branches from the conifer beside her, cutting the length of rope in half to create a splint for her leg. She whittled the leaves and jammed the posts of the branch in her boot to brace, wrapping the rope and knotting it twice before she tried to stand. Cluethael inhaled sharp as she pushed herself forward onto her knees, sticking her injured leg out and slowly pushing up from the ground, using the tree for support.

The pace set was almost painfully slow, hobbling through the forest scanning the underbrush for any sign of hellebore flowers. When the sound of a violin being played caught her attention, the song was delightful, it made her want to dance and spin in circles. It drew her in, further and further into the blackness of the woodlands, ignoring the biting pain as the music filled her veins.

She was unsure how long or how far she walked, but when she came to it was dark overhead, the warm hues that hailed sunset replaced with an inky indigo sky. Her eyes fixed to the light shining through the cracks between trees, a flickering fire glow, she could almost feel the warmth from where she stood. 

The cottage looked warm and inviting, candles flickered in the windows and smoke puffed from the chimney - a pleasant smell emanating from it. Perhaps those who inhabited it could help her, allow her to borrow some bandages for her ankle or a morsel of food, her stomach growling in agreement. For the first time in days she felt light, fluffy even. Floating through the woodlands, her entire body felt as though it was shimmering, like ripples in a pond, not even her ankle hurt anymore.

As she drew closer to the cottage, she could see that the door was slightly ajar, the smell of rich stew stronger now. Her hand raised to knock on the splintered door, her injured ankle hovering over the threshold. The music was louder now, more apparent. She cringed, the louder it was the more it sounded like cries - like screams. The familiar voice of the Borshee snapped her out of the dangerous trance she had entered. 

‘It is not wise to enter this cottage,’ The Borshee hissed, the sudden intrusion making her flinch and stumble back and fall over, her body sliding back into the tree line. Whyever not? she asked, slightly upset that the Borshee was getting in the way of a meal and made her slip and fall. 

The violin ceased.

‘Nothing human lives in these woods,’ it replied. The coolness of his tone sent a chill up her spine, ‘This cottage belongs to something far worse than I or the Fenris’.

“A Nokken,” she whispered. 

It was if the mere mention of his name beckoned his attention, A lithe man sauntered out of the cottage door, violin in hand. He had shaggy inky coloured hair that hung almost to his waist and skin that was a disconcerting shade of grey, she watched in silent terror as he scanned the treeline for any sign of life - any sign that someone had taken his bait. 

“Come,” his velveteen voice called, “I have a hot meal and a warm bed, you have nothing to fear,” the Nokken’s voice was far too sweet to be genuine, his voice feeling like thick honey had been poured into her ears. The Nokken raised his nose to the sky, like he was trying to catch the scent of something as he raised the worn violin to his shoulder to begin to play. 

‘Cover your ears,’ Borshee rasps. She did not question its intel, immediately covering her ears with her hands, doing her best to drown out the cacophonous sounds. 

Crunching footsteps came from her left side, wide eyed she watched as the girl danced merrily past her, ignoring her entirely. The familiar hand caught her eye from where she had hid, it was the same cold hand that reached out to her three days ago; Runa. Without thinking she pulled her down to where she sat, cringing at the music, working quickly to clap Runa’s hands over her ears and placing her hands back over her own ears. 

Sighing in relief as she watched Runa return to her own body. Both of them watched in silence as Nokken lured them closer and closer, music only ceasing once the door had shut behind his victims. She did not wish to find out what would happen to them. 

Runa slowly took her hands away from her ears, opening her mouth as she did so, only to have her friend's pointer finger pressed to her chapped lips. “If we talk, Nakken will come back,” she mouthed. Runa stood from her position, her body obscured by a pine, she held out a hand for Cluethael to take. The gesture made every moment Runa hadn't offered her hand flash before her eyes, that familiar bitterness bubbling in her stomach. 

She took the hand anyway, doing her best to haul herself up from her position on the ground, grunting as she did so. Runa slung Cluethael’s arm around her shoulder, doing her best to carry as much of her friend’s weight as she could and hobbling back into the relative safety of the woods.

They tried to ignore the rippling screams that tore through the woods as best they could; the night had well and truly set in. Neither of them could see more than three feet in front of them. The steady increasing slope of the mountain made it hard to keep your footing in the day time, never mind at night with an injury.  It was best to find a relatively safe spot to camp for the night.

There was an awkward silence between the two as they sat huddled against each other, tucked into the root system of an enormous oak. Cluethael could feel her friend tremble, with fear or from the cold she did not know, what she did know is that she was glad to have found her friend amidst all the madness. 

“What happened?” Runa asked softly, her head resting softly against Cluethael’s shoulder. More silence hung between them, how would she tell her that Runa’s new found friends had tracked her down to murder her, only to be murdered themselves. She didn’t have the heart.

“I, uh, fell over a log,” she replied softly. There was not much else she could say about it, but perhaps she could see if Runa had seen any strange looking flowers in her travels around the mountain. 

“Hellebore,” Cluethael asked unprompted, “Have you seen any Hellebore?” she added, she could feel Runa’s head shift, giving her a quizzical look in the darkness. 

“Uh, yes, actually I have, why?” Runa asked.

“Because if the both of us are going to get out of this alive, we need to find it,” was Cluethael’s only answer. “Do you remember where you saw it?” she pressed. She needed whatever information Runa could give her on where it was, the earlier they could get to it the quicker they could climb the mountain and the quicker it would be over. 

Today was the final day.

They both rose before dawn, their bodies were stiff from the night spent on the ground. Cluethael had almost laughed at the fact she went from feeling too much pain, to being totally numb from the cold. Stars still adorned the indigo velvet sky, like millions of crystals glinting in the summer sun.

The glow of the sun had just begun to peer over the tops of the mountains that seemed so far away. There was just enough light to see where they were going and to look for the low growing clusters of Hellebore, they had a few hours before the sun rose to fully beckon in the dawn. To herald the end of a torturous four days. 

It didn’t take long for the pair to find the trail of Hellebore, its deep midnight purple stark against the white snow. There had been thousands of tiny purple flowers lining the path up the mountain - lining the path to victory, to safety. She could practically taste the freedom. Cluethael hissed at the biting pain in her ankle as she leant on Runa for support, listening to her soft words of encouragement. 

Her mind drifted to other things to keep her from falling into the snow and giving up, she thought of her mother, her sister, of her nieces, of Aemond. She could see the obelisk from where they stood in the pathway, a breathless laugh escaped her. A renewed sense of strength pushed her to keep going, her body felt like it was on fire, she was exhausted, injured and had spent the last three days being viciously pursued by humans and predators alike. 

A snarl came from her left; both girls' heads snapped in the direction to see glowing gold eyes peering at them. Cluethael’s heart leapt to her throat, though she made no sudden movements, she saw what happened to Brynn the last time she saw the beast. Sudden movements spelled death. Only one of them was making it out of this, she was injured, Runa was not; she still had a chance. 

“Runa, go. I’ll be right behind you,” she whispered to her friend, she could see Runa open her mouth to protest.

“Go, back away slowly, into the tree line and then run. I’ll be right behind you,” she soothed her friend with a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep. Runa began to back up slowly, the Fenris’ nose crinkled in a low growl, its canines on full display.

She had no idea how she would get out of this one. ‘If you have any last minute insight, I would appreciate it,’ she remarked dryly to the Borshee, who she hoped could hear her. 

‘Surrender, wait for it to come to you,’ the Borshee’s response wasn’t entirely comforting, but at least she had an idea of what to do. She needed to lure it to her, make it think that she was submitting.

A lamb to slaughter.

Ever so slowly, she bent her knees, wincing as her ankle sat at an awkward position, she made herself as small as possible, all while never peeling her eyes away from the Fenris’s golden ones. Just as predicted, the beast inched closer, close enough to see the flecks of golden blood dried on its maw. Its head was mere inches from her own; a painful knot formed in her chest, but in the face of certain death, she remained calm.

To capture a predator, you cannot remain prey. You have to become its equal - in every way. 

A steeley calmness washed over her as she locked eyes with the monster centimetres away from her. Her hand reached for her rock that she had fashioned into a makeshift dagger, clutching the rope wrapped around the hilt so firmly her knuckles turned white and her hands shook. Cluethael only had one shot at this, that much she knew. The low rumble of its growl reverberated in her chest, it made her want to gag in fear. 

The next few moments felt like hours, time slowing until it had almost stopped. In that moment she felt everything, her muscles in her arm straining and pulling, the Fenris’s hot breath on her face; the squelching of a freshly made wound, a pained howl. The hound threw its head back in a pained howl, pulling Cluethael onto it back as it did so.

A shriek tore through her as she felt the thick, near black blood spilling from the wound Cluethael had made. She wrenched the jagged blade from its eye and began to stab, bringing the blade down on the beast's neck, shoulder, and maw. She didn’t know how many times she stabbed, but she kept going until it was no longer breathing. The Fenris fell with a heavy thud, it's one golden eye rolling backward into its skull, tongue still twitching in its marred mouth. 

She hauled herself to her feet, ignoring the pain shooting up her leg; she ran and ran, even when she knew she was safe, she continued. It was the eleventh hour, the final push up the mountain, she could almost taste the freedom that hung in the air. The onyx obelisk was within her reach; Runa had made it, her stone set at the foot of the tall pillar. 

There were stones littered all over the plateau of the summit, some stacked, some not, some in intricate shapes, while others stood alone. She wanted to place her stone with her sister and her mothers, to continue the family stack. Her mother Tiger’s Eye and her sister's Rose Quartz sat proudly accompanied by her obsidian dagger, the family was complete.

“We did it,” Runa grinned. 

Cluethael nodded. “We did,” she agreed, against all odds, Cluethael had survived the bullying, training and the loneliness. It had almost killed her, but here she stood at the summit looking down on Valkyrie Village. 

Cluethael looked to her friend, breathless, and began to laugh; a laugh that rumbled from deep within. Runa laughed too, they laughed until their eyes watered and their stomachs hurt. She leant on Runa, embracing her into a tight hug and cried, an effervescent mixture of relief and euphoria. Neither of them would be the same, but they had done it, they were Valkyries. 

—

She doesn’t remember how she got back to the outskirts of the village, but when she came back to her body, she was limping down the snowlined path. Runa supported as much of her weight as possible, though Cluethael tried to walk some of the way herself it proved too much, the adrenaline finally beginning to wear off.  

A healer saw to her ankle upon returning, the raven haired healer had taken off her snow sodden boot and sock to reveal a bruise that was blooming different shades of blue and purple like the petals of a flower. 

“You did well to return with only this as a reminder,” the healer spoke, her voice soothing. Cluethael said nothing, just nodded in agreement for she had been lucky, luckier than most. She watched quietly as her ankle was bandaged tightly with strips of cloth, the healer leant back on the small stool so Cluethael could push out of the cot to stand. 

“Try to keep off it as much as you can, adding more stress to the bone could cause more damage,” she said, a firm hand on Clethael’s shoulder as she led her out of the tent to where Runa stood. Her and Runa both walked together to the town centre, inching along the sleet covered cobble, careful not to slip and fall. 

Returning to Valkyrie Village after all she had seen was like seeing the world through different eyes, once vibrant now drained of colour, of life. Out of all the recruits that had entered the Rite, less than a quarter returned. They bore the same look as she did - the same look that all who came before did. The streets of the village were lined with the residents that lived there, their closed fists beating against their chests like a thunderous war drum.

She had been dubbed ‘Demure Death’, after recounting how she submitted to the Fenris in order to slay it. Much to Cluethael’s surprise, a Fenris had never been felled before, she was the first to do so. She ate until she felt sick that night, and when she finally crawled into her cot, it felt as luxurious as a feather bed. 

And on the morrow she would finally get to return home.

She had hoped that she had made her father proud. 

[mad-rdr]

August Reads

6 books this month!

The Kingdom of Copper by S. A. Chakraborty (★ ★ ★ ★/5): If I could summarize this book in one sentence it would be: a war where neither side is right and everyone dies. If you can’t tell, this book was INSANE. There was so much happening the entire time and everytime I thought my opinions on a character were certain, they did something that completely changed my mind again. There were so many loyalty changes and assassination attempts and self-righteous speeches. My only complaint is that I feel because there are so many characters to keep track of and develop, there’s not really any huge character arcs that should have happened.

The Duchess War by Courtney Milan (★ ★ ★/5): cute and basic regency-era romance. Gotta love a revolutionary duke who realizes he's unmatched when it comes to the woman he loves

Leather & Lark by Brynne Weaver (★ ★ ★/5): Butcher & Blackbird works because it's one of a kind and this sequel is obviously trying to capitalize on that success. Not to say this book wasn't enjoyable, it just wasn't as fun as the first one. The whole fake marriage thing barely makes sense, I really don't get why Lark would bother to try and save Lochlan's life. But anyways, cheers to enemies to lovers ig

Icebreaker by Hannah Grace (★ ★/5): While not a good book (which I knew going in), I was finding it relatively entertaining until the last 20% of the book. Anastasia is honestly so annoying and Nathan gets gross and controlling towards the end. The conflict with Aaron was incredibly drawn out and super repetitive and don’t even get me started on her being pregnant in the epilogue. Anyways- it was fun till it kinda wasn’t but eh, I wasn’t expecting quality.

Raven Rock by Nichole Louise (★ ★ ★ ★/5): A historical fiction book placed right in the heart of the American Revolution, it explains the origins of the legend of the Headless Horseman. And let me just say, wow. It started off a little slow, but by halfway through I was fully engaged in the story. Wolfram was such a compelling character, with his internal conflict regarding his uncle, a man who had been like a father to him, and his ruthlessness during the war. He defies him and ends up saving a child from a burning building, becoming a traitor in the process. His time in Sleepy Hollow with Hulda (resident healer that is seen as a witch and therefore outcasted) was so fun to read about and makes the tragedy of it all that more devastating. I am glad that Wolfram got his revenge against his uncle for not only killing his father but also killing him. I like to think Hulda and Wolfram are haunting Raven Rock together and have found each other in their afterlives. This truly was such a great read and I’m glad I pick led it up. Shoutout to Herkules, the best horse companion a man could have.

The Empire of Gold by S. A. Chakraborty (★ ★ ★ ★ ★/5): I take back everything I said in the last book about there being too many characters to give them proper arcs. This series finale proved me wrong and I am so, so glad. This series has only gotten better with each book and this was definitely the best one. Nahri and Ali cross the world, find allies in ancient beings, come into new powers, discover family secrets, overthrow a mass murderer, and are rebuilding Daevabad from the ground up. They are such a fun pair and I’m truly glad they’ve found their way back to each other. For Dara, I just feel an immense sadness for him. His story is a tragedy and so nuanced and complex- the author did a really good job of handling it and giving him a fitting ending. There’s so much more I could talk about but just know that this was such a good ending and, in one way or another, everyone is working towards their own peace.

[jensjumbledmess]

My thoughts/review on How to Fall in Love with a Demon by Lola Glass!

(Updated review: Changing my rating from 4 stars to 5 stars as of July 19th, 2024 because I can't stop thinking about this book and the characters.)

Star & Spice Rating: ⭐️ 5/5, 🌶️ 4/5

There are quite a few sex scenes in this, which is to be expected of course, since the demons literally feed on lust lol. 90% of the spicy scenes are open door, there are a few casual mentions of sex in between. There’s use of vibrators, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, & moments of having sex in a shifted demon form (featuring horns, wings, tails, and well…a few physical enlargements.)

TWs:  Kidnapping, blood, estranged family/family trouble

Judging a Book By Its Cover: This cover is beautiful (as are all the covers for the Deceit & Devotion series.) Honestly, it might be one of the prettiest paperbacks I own. I’ve discovered I like a lot of this author’s cover choices.

✨📖Review📖✨

This book was fast-paced, fun, and spicy. It was a great leisure/escape read. I would say about 70-80% of this book is smut/relationship stuff and the rest is plot, which helps set up the rest of the books in this series. (The author says these are standalones, which they can be, but in my opinion, if you read book 2 first it kinda spoils one of the little twists which happens in the last third of the first book.)

Speaking of the last third, I’ve seen a few reviews talking about a tone change during that time and they’re right. It gets a bit more serious for a few chapters and something happens that causes trust issues for Tatum, our FMC. She no longer knows if she can trust Rafael, MMC. This is resolved fairly quickly and the two DO end up with a HEA. 

Tatum has boundaries, and is independent, choosing to follow her own career path despite what her (crappy) parents are trying to force her into. She lives with her two best friends Brynn and Miley, and they are great examples of friends sometimes being better than family. I enjoyed their friendship; the author did a nice job making it feel like the 3 of them were really comfortable with each other and have known each other for a long time.

NOW…let’s talk a little bit about Rafael, because let’s be honest, guys like this are a big part of why we read these sort of books in the first place, right? He’s a tall, dark haired, handsome and charismatic demon who has been in prison for the last year and has been starved for lust. (Lust is what keeps demons alive. His relationship with Tatum gets sexual quickly because of this.) 

He’s good in bed, good with dirty talk and flirting, he's rich, and would give Tatum the world if she asked for it. (I think he’s actually quite sweet.) He’s all about her pleasure 1.) because he genuinely loves her (he fell first) and 2.) because her pleasure literally feeds him (and she tastes REALLY good to him.) He listens to her and is respectful of her, not pushing her to do anything she’s not comfortable with. Rafael can be a bit jealous at times if he thinks other men, including his own two hot demon brothers, are interested in Tatum. Rafe ended up going on my book boyfriend list by the end of the book, so…

If you’re looking for something quick, fun, and mostly spice with guys that are clearly made to be drooled over, I would give this a try! I’ll definitely be reading the other two books in this series as well as some of Lola’s other work. I think she might be one of my new guilty pleasure authors!

Thank you for reading! If you liked my review/thoughts, consider following me on [GoodReads], [Bookstagram], or [Threads]! (I tend to post on GoodReads & Threads first!)

[bugmari]

carol forest hair cc roundup

⚠️ COLLECTION UPDATED 04.19.23 ⚠️

today i discovered carolforest/forestsims' amazing cc... and also, how hard it is to find. after going down a rabbithole searching for pieces (and still looking for a bunch more even now), i decided to compile everything i've found into one centralized download.

🌼 everything with preview images here (google drive)

thanks to @losts4ccreblogs, @baseicsimmer, and some redditors for pointing me to these items!

list of included what's included under the cut. if you have any of her downloads that aren't listed, please message me to contribute them. thanks ☺️

what's included:

abby hair

ada hair

agatha hair

aimee hair

alan hair

alisa hair

andrew hair

andy hair

anna hair

astrid hair

bambi hair

bambi suit

belle hair

betty hair

brynn hair

cali hair

cara hair

carol hair & flower acc

daisy hair

damita hair

dawn hair

dora hair

elvira hair

erin hair

flora hair

grace hair

habe hair

habe suit

hanna hair

helen hair

jane hair

judy hair

kay hair

kayla hair

kelly hair

little cook dress

little cook hair

little cook hat

little cook pot v1

little cook pot v2

mag hair

maggie hair

mica hair

nica hair & hair band

niki hair

niko hair

rachel hair

rirrier hair

sera hair

sharon hair

sophie hair

suson dress

tanya hair

therese hair

winnie hair

winnies hair (winnie hair + headband)

zelly hair

a merge file of old hair (i don't know what's in it & couldn't find any information online, sorry!)

04.19.23 Update: Thanks to the kind message i received from an anonymous benefactor, all of these hairs (the ones I was desperately looking for) are also included:

marie hair

hero hair

joy hair

julie hair

jodie hair

[brynn-lear]

Dear Brynnn,

UWAA??? BRYNN??? I DID NOT KNOW THIS ACCOUNT EXISTED???

Hold on a moment, let me take a deep breath to calm myself down... BRYNN, I THOUGHT BSJSKEKEK-

*cough*

You do not need to mind how crazy i got when i discovered that it's you, brynlee! I thought you only had that reblog account ngl

I should've followed this account like ages ago if i knew, but yea... anyway hi hello 🥺👉👈 my name is mochi, and no, i'm not a food-

With much love,

Mochi

(P.S. can i send the ask like this??? Or should it be a lot more fancy-)

Dear Mochi,

I believe I have forgotten to mention this address to you, my apologies. But yes! This is the address to my home. I picked a place near the academy so that my daily commute is not at all a hassle. Forgive me for failing to mention this in our last conversation. And yes, I know you are not edible. At least, I believe I'm still not a cannibal nor am I that forgetful, so no. I know you are Mochi, a human being, and that you are safe :)

I'm not entirely sure why my presence would elicit a strong reaction... Is this because you know what my pen name is or?-

I am aware I just stated that I am not forgetful, so forgive me for asking, but which house were you enrolled in? Were you were part of Black Eagles, Golden Deer, or Blue Lions? Do send me a reply whenever.

Sincerely yours,

Brynn Lear ♡

[ssj2hindudude]

Have you ever played Genshin Impact? I have a headcannon about Genshin-au!

For ones who doesn't know about the setting, all you should know is that there are seven fundamental elements: Anemo (Wind), Geo (Soil, rock,gem, metal,etc), Electro (Thunder, lightning), Dendro (Plants), Hydro (Water), Pyro (Fire) and Cyro (Ice and snow) each with "each with a corresponding Archon and their own nation that worships said Archon." ( From fandom wiki), when a person is acknowledged by Heavenly Principles (the known supreme force of the world), they will be gifted a Vision,which not only allows them to wield the elemental power but also have the qualificaton to be a Primordial God.

One (my own) hypothesis is that the elemental power it gifted is depend on the person's (most outstanding)character:

Anemo. With no persistent goals/ with goals far beyond one's reach

Geo. With a very persistent goal and makes alot of efforts to pursue it

Electro. Break from former status

Dendro A person with special wisdom

Hydro. A person who though experiences alot but still held his/her/their original aspiration

Pyro. Someone who have a deep passion in something, and it is often inherited from predecessors

Cyro Someone who stuck in a situation that cannot be broke out from (like bloodline and physical illness) but kept struggling

Therefore I have a theory for the Visions of Potatoes

Kara Pyro

Mini Geo

Brynne Anemo

Aru. Electro

Nikita. Dendro

Sheela. Hydro

Aiden. Pyro

For Hira, I'm sorry that I am not certain of her most outstanding trait, but I think her as Anemo or Hydro

Rudy. Cyro

Anyway, I think this is a good au to write about, and I'm ready to hear your conclusion about the vision of the Potatoes and 2nd Gen!

Hmm, I can't say that I have, but I have seen ads for Genshin Impact and this looks really interesting! It's like ATLA only the elements are more like Full Metal Alchemist. Let me see what I can do:

Kara gets her Pyro Vision the day she discovers Aru's existence. She finally found a chance at a family and was not about to let it go.

Mini gets her Geo Vision the day she finds out she's a Pandava. She goes through a day's worth of prep work to make sure she's ready but after a pep talk with her brother, she's ready to face the unknown with everything she has.

Brynne gets her Anemo Vision the day she got her scar and decided to leave her abusive mother. She doesn't know what future she's about to face or whether she'll achieve anything, but she'll definitely be better than the woman who birthed her.

Aru got her Electro Vision when she found out she was a Pandava and that everything she knew about mythology was real. She was no longer that liar in school trying to fit in with everyone, now she was a hero and she was going to prove it.

Nikita gets her Dendro Vision when Sheela tells her her first prophecy and she interprets that she was talking about the other Pandavas. When she found out her sister could see the future, she knew they had an edge on everybody and they had to be smart about how they used that advantage.

Sheela got her Hydro Vision when she saw her first prophecy and stayed determined to help Nikita prove they were worthy. They then decided rather than rush into battle, they would simply help Aru through the Dreamworld for now.

Aiden got his Pyro Vision the day his father left and he saw his mother in so much pain. He promised to find a way for them to move on and live in peace, with or without the other Apsaras' help.

Hira got her vision the day she met the others and found that her destiny was hers to make. At first it looked like Anemo because she couldn't see what she wanted, but then it changed to Hydro when she decided that despite everything, she was going to help everyone.

Rudy got his Cyro vision the day he stood up to Takshaka. After years of disdain due to being a Naga prince that was colorblind, he was determined to prove himself worthy of the throne.

[drberkes]

f*ck

Ok hi so I (12/2/22) am going to force myself to write now because the amount of anxiety is unacceptable and I have tentatively identified not enough writing as a possible source. So here we go: if you’re expecting a nice eggplant dish, please manage your expectations. I am going to do my best. I may just hand you a f*cken eggplant and tell you, “Best of luck, I’ve done all I can.”

Ok so how did I get here? I tried writing about it a bit for my Technology Awareness paper I wrote for Natalie, but that paper was just for fun and I’m not proud of it (there were swear words in it). Hmm…let me tell you about Anacortes, like I told one of my nurses when I was in the hospital for ten days back in May. My Aunt Barb and a friend she had liked for a long time decided to go on a road trip together. My Aunt was agreeable with everything her friend wanted - no audiobook, weird climate control requests, fancy bathroom requests, everything - even agreeing to go to Anacortes against her own judgment. She wanted to go to Port Townsend where they would have had no shortage of restaurants by the water to enjoy. They got to Anacortes and discovered that unless there is a festival, Anacortes is a sleepy little port town with not much going on. My Aunt spent her time there in the quilt shop, making the best of it, while her friend went off to get a tshirt. So they wound up in Anacortes with nothing to do and only a t-shirt to show for it. This journal entry, written in December (December!) is the same t-shirt from Anacortes. And the agreeableness I’ve described here is just the tip of the iceberg for her trip. Boy, let me f*cken tell you… …like I told everyone at the ketamine clinic. I was supposed to be tripping balls during my extremely expensive infusion and getting an abundance of insights from my subconscious but I spent the last half of it babbling to my doctor about everything that I haven’t written about yet - all the people I tried to help and how it almost killed me. I’m seeing four paragraphs now so I’ll take that as a sign that I am probably going to survive. BUT *********@#$%^, WTF. People people people are just people, people, people (Brown). And chronic stress prevents our writing/reading/learning brains from getting online. Less writing, more stress. It’s enough to make you crazy if you let it. Anyway, I have no idea where to begin inspiring you with the extremely horrific dumpster fire that is my mental health and how I got here. So I’ll start with you. If you’re reading this, you are probably a person. What does it mean to be a person? I wish I could bust out one of my papers and tell you what I think, but hellfire in the form of a dozen pieces of garbage masquerading as people rained down on my f*cken house. I’ve had windows broken, death threats, graffiti across the street (“f*ck you” written on the curb). All because when people get pushed in the wrong direction, they make bad decisions. They decide they want to go to Anacortes. For the record, I want to go to Port Townsend. But I’ve already been there. Thanks Aunt Barb! 🙂 What was Port Townsend supposed to look like for me? Let’s circle back to the beginning of the pandemic. Kameron was out. So I’ve just spent a couple years at a community college and got sent home like Isaac Newton. What am I gonna do? Study Calculus? Write 100 papers? No, I’m gonna try to help Kameron. And Clay and Cameron and his girlfriend Missy and Brynn and Robert all at the same time. This where we’ll lose some definition...there were so many encounters there where I tried using my AS to push as hard as I could in the right direction. The outcomes were mixed: Kameron went back to prison, Clay moved to NY with Jeff, Cameron and Missy had to move also, and I worry about Brynn. Robert is doing better and has a job now. Why did this f*cken happen? Because they needed more help than I could give them. Lesson learned: you have to identify if someone is doing well enough for you to help them otherwise they will just pull you down too. It is not their fault. I suppose you get to be a certain age and you’ll get weird looks if you still act like a child, but I digress. These folks are good people who wound up in bad situations because of forces beyond their control. That reminds me of what my Uber driver told me when I came back from Portland right before (AM)^2 started: “...they’ll eat you alive.” But if someone is heading down a path where they’re gonna end up in a bad position when they’re older and I can do something about it, how can I choose not to act? How can I sit there and protect myself when there is work to be done? Now we’re getting into Tara Brabazon.  Anyway, this all sort of came to a head when I lost my job, checked myself into the hospital, got out and promptly had a tiny, tiny relapse which actually improved my PHQ-9 score considerably. But ah, now Tara Brabazon is reading this I’ll just head off to watch some of her videos. I feel better already having written something. Yay. Why did I lose my job? Because if I try to show up I’ll get probably get arrested. Why did this happen? ...and reason 546 is because I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t take care of myself well enough. And I wasn’t careful enough. I built a gun that shoots live piranhas and aimed at my fucken self.