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doumadono · 5 months

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Warnings: graphic descriptions of amputation, blood and gore, a dash of dark humour at the very end, viking themes, mentions of sacrifices

A/N: this original story was commissioned by @amelia-quining on my Ko-fi page. Thank you once again for trusting me with your request. I really hope this little fic meets your expectations ♥

KO-FI COMMISSIONS

In the far reaches of the north of Sweden, nestled amidst towering firs, rugged cliffs and ancient stones, lay the Viking settlement of Hurgå, where the chill winds carried whispers of ancient gods and forgotten rituals.

Hurgå was a quaint settlement nestled amidst the rugged terrain of the northern lands. Surrounded by dense forests and towering mountains, it exuded an aura of rugged beauty and ancient mystique. The village consisted of sturdy wooden structures, their roofs adorned with thatch, blending seamlessly with the natural landscape. Narrow dirt paths wound their way between the buildings, lined with wildflowers and patches of vibrant greenery.

In the heart of Hurgå, overlooking the settlement square, stood a modest yet revered structure: the temple dedicated to the glory of Odin, the Allfather. Built with sturdy timber and adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes from ancient legends, the temple served as a focal point for the spiritual life of the community.

Hurgå was a place of untamed beauty and unyielding harshness, where the whispers of ancient gods still lingered in the crisp mountain air, and where the people revered the old ways with unwavering devotion.

Among them was Åse.

The girl, in her mid-20s, possessed a striking appearance that captivated those around her. Her long, lustrous ginger hair cascaded down her back, framing her delicate features. Emerald eyes sparkled with intelligence and depth, drawing others into their gaze. Freckles adorned her nose and cheeks like constellations against her porcelain skin, as pale as moonlight, that felt soft and smooth to the touch, like freshly fallen snow. Despite her slender frame and lack of height, there was an undeniable allure to her presence, and many young men found themselves enchanted by her beauty, but alas, their affections remained unrequited. As a devout priestess of Odin, her heart belonged solely to her divine calling, and no earthly suitor could sway her dedication.

Åse was not like the other women of Hurgå. While they busied themselves with domestic chores and tending to the hearth, she sought knowledge and enlightenment in the shadow of the temple built for the glory of Allfather. Her dreams were filled with visions of the future, and she longed to become a seer, a vessel through which Odin's will could be known.

During the summer solstice, when the boundaries between the hominal realm and the divine were said to blur, Åse made the pilgrimage to Uppsala, the sacred center of worship for the northern tribes. There, amidst the throngs of pilgrims and the intoxicating scent of burning incense, she partook in the sacred rituals and consumed the potent hallucinogenic brew offered by the temple priests that would allow her to transcend the mortal realm.

As Åse consumed the potent hallucinogenic brew, the world around her began to shift and warp, blurring the lines between reality and the ethereal. Colors danced before her eyes, swirling and merging into intricate patterns that seemed to pulse with life. Her senses heightened, and she felt as though she were being pulled into another realm.

In her trance, Åse found herself standing in a vast, mist-shrouded forest. The air was thick with the scent of pine and soggy earth, and a sense of ancient wisdom seemed to permeate the very atmosphere. As she walked deeper into the forest, she felt a presence watching her, a powerful and otherworldly presence that seemed to emanate from the very trees themselves.

Amidst the haze, a figure began to materialize before her. He stood tall and imposing, his form wreathed in ethereal light. His features were sharp and regal, with piercing eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of the ages. Though she had never beheld a man so fine in her life, she felt an unmistakable sense of recognition, as if she had known him in some distant time or place. It was him. It was the Allfather.

With a voice barely above a whisper, the girl spoke, her words tinged with gratitude. "Thank you, my lord," she murmured, her voice barely audible amidst the swirling energies of the trance. "For your guidance and your presence in my mere life."

"Daughter of the north," the man spoke, his voice resonating with power. "You have come seeking knowledge and guidance. Ask, and I shall provide."

"Great Allfather," Åse began, her words echoing in the sacred space. "I seek your knowledge and your blessing. I wish to become a seer, to dedicate myself fully to your teachings and to serve you with all that I am."

When he spoke, his voice was like thunder rolling across the heavens, yet infused with a gentle warmth that enveloped Åse like a comforting embrace. "My child," he replied, his words resonating deep within her soul, "Your heart is pure, and your spirit is strong. I grant you my blessing and the gift of sight. May you use it wisely, and may your visions guide you on the path of enlightenment."

With those words, Åse felt a profound sense of connection to the divine.

Odin's voice echoed in her mind once again, his gaze piercing through her very soul. "But such power comes at a price. Will you prove yourself worthy, my child?"

With unwavering determination, Åse knelt before the man, her heart pounding with anticipation. "I am all yours to command, Allfather," she declared, her voice resolute.

"To wield such power, one must prove themselves worthy," the god intoned, his one-eyed gaze piercing into Åse's very soul. "Are you prepared to make the necessary sacrifice?"

Åse's heart pounded in her chest as she contemplated the weight of Odin's words. This was no simple bargain; it was a test of her dedication and resolve. But deep within her, she felt a stirring, a flicker of determination that burned brighter with each passing moment. "I am," she declared, her voice steady despite the tremble in her limbs. "I will give all that I am, if it means serving you, Allfather."

A solemn nod from Odin confirmed her choice, his presence seeming to fill all of her being with an otherworldly aura. "Then let it be done," he commanded, his tone both solemn and commanding.

Suddenly, Åse's vision blurred and the world around her seemed to fade into darkness. She felt herself falling, tumbling into a black abyss of oblivion, her senses overwhelmed by the weight of her decision. Time lost its meaning as she drifted in the void, her mind awash with visions of the future and the divine presence of the Allfather.

When she finally awoke, it was with a sense of disorientation, her head swimming with dizziness. But even as she struggled to steady herself, there was a newfound certainty burning within her soul. She knew, without a doubt, that what she had experienced was real, as real as her own flesh.

Determined to fulfill her destiny, Åse made her way to the highest priest of Uppsala, her steps unsteady but resolute.

Odin's temple in Uppsala stood as a grand testament to the reverence and awe inspired by the ancient deity. The temple itself was a structure of grandeur and majesty, constructed of sturdy timber beams and adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes from Norse mythology. Massive wooden doors, carved with symbols of Odin's authority, guarded the entrance, inviting only the most devout worshippers to pass through.

Inside, the temple's interior was bathed in the warm glow of flickering torches, casting dancing shadows across the polished stone floors. The air was heavy with the scent of burning incense, mingling with the earthy aroma of the surrounding forest.

At the heart of the temple stood a great altar, adorned with offerings of mead, bread, and other treasures laid out as gifts to the Allfather. Above it, a towering statue of Odin loomed, his piercing gaze seeming to follow the movements of those who entered.

Around the altar, worshippers gathered in reverent silence, their faces upturned in prayer and supplication. The atmosphere was charged with a palpable sense of reverence and devotion as pilgrims sought to commune with the divine and receive the blessings of the Allfather.

As Åse entered the sacred halls of the temple, she soon was led to the back of the temple by an elder woman, and upon entering the chamber of the highest priest, she felt meaningless.

The priest, adorned in ceremonial robes and wreathed in the flickering light of candles, regarded her with solemn gravity. "Åse," he intoned, his voice a low rumble that echoed off the stone walls of the chamber.

Surprised by the priest's knowledge of her name, the long-haired girl furrowed her ginger brow in confusion. "How do you know my name?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

The priest regarded her with a knowing gaze. "Child," he said, his voice grave and solemn, "The Allfather sees all and knows all. He has watched over you since the day you were born, guiding your footsteps and weaving the tapestry of your destiny, leading you to this exact place."

Åse's eyes widened in astonishment at his words, a shiver coursing down her spine. "The Allfather..." the ginger murmured, her mind reeling with the implications of his revelation.

The priest nodded solemnly, his expression unreadable. "Indeed," he replied. "He has chosen you for a great purpose, Åse. Embrace your destiny, for it is a path that few are privileged to walk. Now, tell me, my child, what did you see in your vision?”

She recounted her vision. With each word, she felt the weight of her commitment grow heavier, yet she knew that she was ready to embrace whatever fate awaited her. She had never felt so chosen, yet the weight of her destiny felt heavy upon her shoulders, so she regarded the man’s words with a single nod.

"You have come seeking the blessing of the Allfather, but know that the path you tread is one of great peril."

Åse nodded, her gaze steady as she met the priest's solemn gaze. "I understand, honored one. I am prepared to make this sacrifice."

The priest inclined his head in acknowledgment, his expression grave. "Very well. You understand the magnitude of what you are about to undertake. This path is one of solitude and sacrifice, and none may accompany you on your journey."

Åse swallowed hard, steeling herself for the ordeal ahead. "I will not falter," she vowed, her voice ringing with pure determination. "I will see this through to the end."

“What did you offer to Odin himself in exchange for his favor?" the priest inquired, his voice low and grave.

Åse squared her shoulders, meeting the man's gaze with determination. "I offered my left arm," she replied, her voice steady despite the tremor in her heart.

The man placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch a silent benediction. "May the gods grant you strength and wisdom in the trials ahead. You walk a path that few dare to tread, but know that you do so with their blessing."

The priest's movements were deliberate as he approached a small box resting on the desk, surrounded by flickering candles. With a solemn air, he opened the lid, revealing the sacrificial knife nestled within. The blade gleamed in the dim light, its sharp edge catching the glow of the candles.

Carefully, the man lifted the knife from the box, wrapping it in a linen cloth before handing it to Åse. "This is the tool of your sacrifice," he said, his voice low and solemn. "To fulfill your oath to Odin, you must wield it with purpose and conviction."

He placed the knife gently into Åse's open hands, his touch reverent. "Remember, Åse," he continued, his words weighted with significance, "The sacrifice you make tomorrow will bind you to Odin's will for eternity. Use the blade wisely, for it is a symbol of your destiny."

On a crisp dawn, Åse knelt before the towering statue of Odin, her heart pounding with anticipation. She was about to make the ultimate sacrifice, a testament to her love and devotion. Clad in a simple white shift, her left arm was bare, the spot where it would be severed was marked with a rune of courage.

Åse began her prayer, her voice echoing in the silent temple.

“Hinn almáttki Óðinn, Alföðr, heyr minn bæn. Veit mér styrk og hugrekki til að takast á við þessa áskorun, til að fórna af sjálfum mér í þínu nafni."

Åse's fingers wrapped around the sacrificial knife, its weight heavy in her palm.

The blade gleamed with a deadly sheen, its edge honed to a razor-sharpness that promised swift and merciless precision. Adorned with ancient runes, the handle pulsed with an otherworldly energy, each symbol whispering secrets of power and sacrifice. It was a weapon of old, forged in the fires of tradition and steeped in the blood of ages past. And now, it awaited its next offering, hungry for the flesh that would feed its ancient hunger.

With a steady hand, Åse tested the blade's edge, marveling at its keenness as it sliced effortlessly through the skin on the pad of her left index finger. Åse hissed as the sharp blade met her skin, a bead of crimson welling up from the shallow cut. The sting of pain was sharp and quick, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through it, her determination unwavering. This sacrifice was necessary, a small price to pay for the knowledge and power she sought.

As she prepared herself for the task ahead, Åse knew that this blade held the key to her destiny. With its bite, she would carve her path into the annals of history, marking herself as a vessel for the divine will. And though her heart trembled with fear, her resolve remained unshaken, for she understood the importance of the sacrifice that lay before her.

She hadn't conducted any prior research, but fortunately, one of her closest friends, Helga, had assisted a healer back in Hurgå. Åse had witnessed a few instances where limbs were amputated due to the severe injuries sustained by their warriors in battles against Christians or other settlements.

Åse scolded herself inwardly, chastising her own hesitance. "Foolish," she thought, a twinge of uncertainty began to creep into the recesses of her mind, gnawing at her resolve like a relentless predator stalking its prey. "Every moment wasted is another moment of doubt and hesitation. Allfather awaits my sacrifice, and I cannot afford to falter now."

Gripping the sacrificial knife tightly in her hand, she positioned it just at the crook of her left elbow. Her emerald eyes shone with anticipation. With a shaky exhale, she pressed the blade against her skin, feeling the cold steel bite into her flesh with a sickening crunch.

The first incision was precise, the sharp edge of the blade slicing effortlessly through the layers of dermis and epidermis. A jolt of excruciating pain shot through her arm, causing her to scream in the overwhelming agony. Sweat beaded on her ginger brow as she fought to steady her trembling hand, each movement of the blade sending shockwaves of torment coursing through her body. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she summoned every ounce of determination she possessed and began to saw through her flesh.

As the blade penetrated deeper, the resistance was greater, the tissue denser, but the blade pressed on, its edge biting into the flesh with a relentless determination.

A white-hot agony threatened to overwhelm her completely.

With each sawing motion, Åse felt a searing pain shoot through her arm, radiating outward from the point of contact. The nerves screamed in protest as the blade severed them, sending waves of agony coursing through her body. Blood welled up from the wound, flowing freely down her arm and pooling on the ground below.

As the blade cut through muscle and sinew with alarming ease, Åse could feel the resistance give way, the tissue parting like silk under the blade. The sound of tearing flesh filled the air, accompanied by the sickening sensation of her own thick blood coating her skin.

With each agonizing cut, she felt a piece of herself being torn away, sacrificed in the name of her destiny. The sound of her own labored breathing filled the air, punctuated by the wet, guttural sound of flesh being torn asunder. Her entire being was screaming in protest as she fought to keep moving.

The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mingling with the acrid scent of burning incense. Her hands slick with blood as she worked to complete the grisly task.

With a steady hand, the ginger girl applied more pressure to the blade. There was a sickening sensation as the blade sliced through muscles and tendon, but she pushed past it. With a deft movement, she twisted the knife, using its keen edge to pry apart the joint.

Finally, with a final, decisive stroke, there was a soft pop as the joint gave way, and Åse's arm fell down to the floor with a sickening thud, leaving a gaping wound in its wake. Blood poured from the stump, staining the ground and her robes crimson as Åse crumpled to the floor to her knees, her vision swimming with pain and dizziness, her body wracked with pain and exhaustion. She had done it. She had made the ultimate sacrifice.

In that moment, she felt a surge of power unlike anything she had ever known, and she knew that the Allfather was offering her a gift beyond imagining. And then a shroud of darkness descended upon her, swallowing her whole.

Åse didn't know how long she had been unconscious, or if she had crossed the threshold into death itself.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking against the sudden brightness that stung her vision. Blinking away the discomfort, she took in her surroundings, and realized she was lying on a small bed, adorned with furs. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the pungent aroma of mead.

After a few moments of disorientation, Åse tentatively turned her head to the left. With hesitant movements, she lifted the fur covering her upper shoulder, revealing the neatly wrapped bandages that concealed the absence of her forearm. The absence of her limb sent a shiver down her spine, yet she could still feel its phantom presence, a sensation that made her gasp.

Tears welled in her eyes once more as she gently laid her head back against the pillow. "Thank you, Allfather," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet chamber.

The door creaked open, and an elderly woman entered the room, carrying a bowl filled with fresh bandages. With a gentle smile, she approached Åse's bedside. "You've been unconscious for nearly two weeks, child," the woman said softly, her voice filled with concern. "Many feared you wouldn't make it.”

Åse listened in stunned silence as the woman continued, explaining that her offering had been presented at the altar of Odin and later burnt alongside other tributes. The girl then inquired about when she could return home.

The woman offered a sympathetic smile. "That depends on how quickly you recover, my dear. But rest assured, we will do everything we can to aid your healing."

Åse returned to her settlement, Hurgå, greeted by the shocked and concerned faces of her fellow villagers. Whispers spread like wildfire as people noticed her armless state, and many approached her, their voices trembling with worry.

"Åse, what happened to you? Were you attacked on your trip to Uppsala?" they asked, their eyes wide with fear.

But Åse simply smiled, her demeanor calm and serene despite the questions. "No, I wasn't attacked," she reassured them. "It was an offering I made to the Allfather."

Some of the villagers exchanged skeptical glances, murmuring amongst themselves about her supposed delusions. They couldn't fathom why she would believe that Odin would accept such a lousy sacrifice.

Yet Åse remained undeterred, her faith unwavering as she returned to her daily life, determined to fulfill her destiny, no matter the cost.

Her best friend, Helga, rushed to greet Åse as well as soon as she spotted her. Her eyes widened in shock as she took in Åse's armless form, unable to hide her dismay. “Åse, what happened to you, sweetie?!"

The ginger slowly nodded her head. "Well, you know how I've always been a bit too giving," she joked, a wry smile playing on her lips. "I guess I just gave a little too much this time,” she let out a soft chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood despite the gravity of her situation.

Helga shook her head in disbelief, struggling to find the right words to express her shock, shaking her head dismissively. "I... I don't know what to say," she stammered, at a loss for words. "You've always been the crazy one," the other woman murmured, her voice tinged with emotion. "But I'm glad you're back, Åse. I missed you.”

Åse gave her friend a genuine smile. "Don't worry about it, Helga," she said with a reassuring smile. "I just made a sacrifice for something greater. It's all part of my journey."

And though some may have viewed her sacrifice with horror or pity, Åse wore her scar with pride, a testament to her unwavering devotion to the gods.

To Åse, the absence of her arm wasn't a sorrowful event, but a mark of pride, a testament to her commitment to Odin and her readiness to give for a noble cause. As she faced the days ahead with a clearer vision and renewed resolve, she understood that her decision was one she'd never rue. By sacrificing a piece of herself, she'd acquired something profound - a bond with the divine and a destiny that would guide her path forevermore.

#original female character #original fiction #original character #original story #fiction #viking themes #kofi commission #writing commission #writing commission open #dark fic #dark themes #original writing #writers on tumblr #tw blood #divider by cafekitsune #original one shot #my writing #my original writing

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the-darkestminds · 5 months

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Autumn’s Shadow: Chapter 1

Azriel x Eris (Azriel POV)

Summary: A covert meeting between Azriel and Eris to exchange valuable intel leaves Azriel reeling—and questioning everything he has ever felt for the Heir of Autumn. Azriel finds himself inexorably drawn to Eris, unable to resist his captivating allure. With the threat of Koschei and Beron looming ever closer, can their forbidden love endure in the face of such danger?

a/n: This is not canon compliant. It takes place sometime during acosf before Eris is taken by Briallyn. Please assume the following: Cassian never played courtier, Azriel never had any feelings for Elain, he never helped Cassian train the priestesses, and they have not told Eris about the trove.

Read on AO3!

Full Chapter List

Chapter 1:

“Shadowsinger.”

Azriel stepped out of a pocket of shadows at the sound of that infernal voice. A voice he had been longing to make scream in pain for centuries now. Since the night Azriel had found Mor in those woods he had dreamed of how he might slowly and painfully tear the Heir of Autumn apart. Though technically they were allies now. Rhys insisted on these frequent meetings to get information on Beron’s movements in Spring, along with any whisper of his dealings with Briallyn and Koschei. Which was precisely why Azriel found himself in the woods along Night’s southern border in the dead of night. He steeled himself as he took in the male faerie before him.

“Report,” Azriel said coldly to Eris Vanserra.

Eris stood casually near the base of a great oak, a smirk on his pretty face, hands in the pockets of his emerald green jacket. As if out for an innocent stroll in the moonlight. How Eris had known he’d been lurking in the shadows, Azriel didn’t let himself consider. He prided himself on his stealth. It was part of what it meant to be a shadowsinger. But this was not the first time Eris had caught him lurking about and it pissed him off to no end.

“You’re early,” Eris said, arching a red brow, clearly amused at how easy it was to rile the spymaster. “Did you miss me?” His auburn eyes glinted with feral delight as he took in the anger on Azriel’s face.

Azriel ignored the comment and stalked forward until they stood only several feet apart, his hand twitching at his side as if he itched to unsheath the blade across his back and stab it through Eris’s elegant, long neck. “I said, report. What are his plans for Spring?”

Tamlin had long since given up any semblance of protection of his lands. They now stood empty and desolate. Most of the Spring Court citizens had been forced to flee during the war, or were actively pushed out by Hybern’s armies. Azriel had spied a small force of Beron’s Autumn Court soldiers camped past their court’s southern border, on land Tamlin should have been patrolling.

Eris sighed dramatically and crossed his arms, frowning.

“You’re no fun. Beron is merely testing to see if Tamlin will respond to an encroachment on his land. So far he hasn’t.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if this were all just a minor inconvenience and not a potential act of war.

“And Briallyn?” Azriel asked.

“My father’s unexplained absences have increased in length and frequency. I suspect he is visiting the continent to meet with the queen, though I have no means of following him to confirm. Perhaps you’ll have more luck with those delightful gifts of yours.” Eris glanced at the shadows curling around Azriel’s shoulders with thinly veiled interest.

“Does Beron know what she wants from Koschei?” Azriel asked, and then added, “Is he even aware of Koschei’s existence?” They had decided to inform Eris of the Death God, but not of the trove, or of Briallyn’s use of it thus far. If that information found its way into the wrong hands they might find themselves faced with more enemies who sought to arm themselves with the trove, on top of the threat from Briallyn and Koschei.

It irked Azriel to be asking Eris about any of this. As spymaster, he should’ve been able to acquire the answers himself instead of standing here with his dick in his hand, begging Eris for intel. He scowled as Eris continued.

“My father speaks little of his plans to anyone these days. I can only assume he’s aware of Koschei if Briallyn’s allied with him, though I have no evidence to prove it. He’d be foolish not to inquire about her own personal motives.” Eris acted unconcerned, but Azriel could tell his father’s silence on the matter troubled him. He likely wasn’t used to being completely shut out of Beron’s schemes. Eris added, “You truly have no inkling of what she’s been after?” He gave Azriel a pointed look, like he was aware Azriel knew more than he was letting on.

Azriel ignored his question and contemplated the information. They did not yet know how closely Briallyn was tied to Koschei. Though he had been to the continent to spy on the once-human queen, Azriel had not yet been able to determine what Briallyn wanted from Koschei, and vice versa. As far as they knew, Briallyn had no means of freeing him from the lake. But perhaps they were missing something. Despite Azriel’s insistence that it could give them the upperhand in defeating Briallyn and prevent any further escalation with Koschei, Rhys had forbade him from getting close to Koschei’s lake, arguing that it was not worth the risk. Azriel had eventually backed off. But if Beron had indeed allied with Koschei…Azriel tucked the information away. He would study it later.

He’d heard enough, for now. “I’ll let you know when I have something.”

Azriel turned to leave when Eris drawled, “Do give Mor my regards.” He knew Eris said it only to taunt him, but the comment had him turning back around.

“Keep her name out of your filthy mouth,” he snarled.

Were they really doing this again? Eris’s moods these past few months had been unpredictable at best. He was a completely different male from one week to the next. Sometimes Eris showed up and said little, his eyes distant and cold, as if consumed by some far away storm. Other times he was almost pleasant, and seemed eager to prove his commitment to their new and tenuous alliance. Today he must’ve been in a foul mood, if his bringing up Mor was any indication, and was likely attempting to take the edge off by stoking Azriel’s temper. Eris excelled at it.

Azriel was in no mood for the male’s forked tongue today, but Eris continued, “It’s rather pathetic, don’t you think? How long you’ve been panting after her. She will never love you, shadowsinger.” His laugh was cold and mirthless. Azriel said nothing. He knew Eris spoke the truth, and it was something that weighed on him every day of his miserable existence. That he was not and would never be enough.

“Though I’m sure you know that, deep down,” Eris mused, nodding faintly to himself. Azriel growled softly, temper rising. He should leave. Now. Before he did something that could not be undone. He knew he shouldn’t allow himself to get so worked up. These were old wounds. And yet something about Eris had always made Azriel see red—had his normally cool and calm rage igniting into something hot and savage.

He’d reluctantly begun to think Eris wasn’t as bad as he let on—had even started to believe they were making decent progress in their civility towards one another. Gods, he’d even caught himself trusting the male. Perhaps he’d been a fool to think Eris was anything but a prick.

“I don’t know why you’re still so angry after all these years.” The words kept spilling out of his hateful mouth. “Surely you can’t really blame me for leaving her in those woods. Although, you are a bastard. Perhaps you’re used to having Cassian’s leftovers—” Azriel’s temper snapped. A blink and he was in front of Eris, scarred hand around his throat as he slammed him against the tree and snarled mere inches from his face.

“Say one more word about her and I will rip out your fucking throat,” Azriel snarled at him, his rage whetted into something sharp and dangerous. They were both breathing hard. Eris hissed as Azriel’s hand tightened around his neck.

“You make it so easy,” Eris sneered. “It’s almost not even fun anymore. Almost.” His smile was edged with something Azriel couldn’t place.

Azriel remained silent as he tried to tamp down his rage and get control of the roaring inside his head. He felt the column of Eris’s throat bob as he swallowed, could also feel Eris’s steady heartbeat under his thumb.

He didn’t realize he’d moved his thumb over that pulse until Eris purred, “Are you going to grope me all night? Would you like me to remove my clothes?”

Azriel’s eyes snapped to Eris’s and he could feel the blood coloring his high cheekbones. He ground his teeth at the taunt and had to stop himself from snatching his hand back in embarrassment.

Eris blinked. The only sign of his surprise. And then his lips curled into a wicked smile. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Stop talking,” Azriel growled, tightening his grip further. His face was burning. He had rapidly lost control of this meeting—suddenly he felt like he was failing some test but wasn’t sure what the objectives were, only that he had somehow given Eris the upperhand. He was fumbling—

And then Eris reached down and palmed him roughly through the leather of his pants. Azriel’s eyes widened and every thought eddied out of his head. His face burned hot as he gaped at Eris, who laughed darkly, a heated glint in his amber eyes. Azriel was frozen where he stood, his mind utterly blank. Eris squeezed him and Azriel shuddered, hardening instantly under the intimate touch.

“What,” Azriel bit out through clenched teeth, his hand still wrapped around Eris’s throat, “are you doing?”

Every muscle in Azriel’s body was taught, as if he might snap at the slightest pressure. But Eris didn’t reply. He just smiled darkly and reached for the buttons of Azriel’s pants—Azriel’s free hand stopped him before it could go further. Stopped his hand, but did not push it away. He only held Eris’s fine wrist in his scarred hand as they stared at each other. The males said nothing, their breaths mingling in the chill night air. Azriel’s grip on Eris’s throat finally loosened, and he let his hand fall to rest against Eris’s collarbone. He glared at the Autumn heir, so unruffled, while his own face was flushed red.

And then suddenly he was dragging Eris towards him by the collar of his shirt. Their lips crashed together ferociously, painfully. Tongues and teeth and shadows and flame danced together as Azriel gave himself over to the distraction of Eris’s hot mouth. He slipped his hand into those silken red strands and pulled Eris’s head back roughly, angling his face so he could better taste him. He grunted as Eris bit him hard enough to draw blood, but only gripped him tighter. Eris laughed cruelly into his mouth and Azriel could taste his own blood on their lips. Eris traced his tongue along Azriel’s bottom lip and then moaned softly as he delved his tongue back into his mouth.

Azriel groaned in pleasure as Eris slipped a hand down the front of his leathers and gripped his shaft tightly. Gods, what was he doing? This was Eris, Eris, who he hated and who hated him in return—and then Azriel stopped thinking about anything at all as Eris began working him in earnest. His long, elegant fingers gripped him around his base and then worked their way up Azriel’s considerable length, thumb swirling the beaded drop of moisture already formed at the tip. Eris moved his hand up and down deftly, almost painfully, and Azriel felt himself thrust into that hand. He would’ve been embarrassed at his own fervor if he wasn’t so overcome with mindless, writhing need. Azriel stepped closer, their bodies completely flush, as he drove his tongue into Eris’s mouth. He tasted of fall and crackling flames and something sweet, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He could feel Eris’s own need pressing hard against his stomach as he matched his tongue stroke for stroke.

Eris’s hand twisted over the head of his cock and Azriel’s knees nearly buckled. Azriel groaned into his mouth as Eris grabbed the back of his neck to draw him in closer, like he might swallow every pleasured sound that escaped Azriel’s lips. Eris squeezed the head of his cock again and Azriel felt the pleasure building along his legs and spine. He increased the pace, his hand moving up and down roughly—Azriel felt Eris thrust his own hips forward and feeling that hard length against him sent him toppling over the edge.

Azriel felt like there was fire in his veins as his release barreled through him. His hips jerked as he emptied himself into Eris’s hand. The male stroked him gently as he slowly stopped trembling. He let his head drop against Eris’s shoulder as he tried to calm his racing heart. Azriel was wrecked. He had no idea what had come over him, only that he’d come hard enough to see stars.

He felt Eris remove his hand from his leathers, their bodies still pressed together. But the absence of that touch shook Azriel from the haze of his orgasm and he straightened up quickly and stepped back. Eris gazed back at him, his normally pale cheeks flushed. They stood there staring at each other silently. Azriel was at a loss for words, still reeling from what they’d done. And then Eris smiled cruelly, arched a brow, and Azriel braced himself for the blow that was surely to come—the words that would spill out of that wicked mouth and shred the remaining scraps of his pride into nothing. Dread pooled in his stomach. But then Eris paused, cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at Azriel. Azriel held his breath, waited. And then Eris vanished, nothing but the rustling leaves any indication he had been there at all. Azriel stared at the spot long after he left, until the cold finally had him stepping back into the shadows and disappearing into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Chapter

Tag list: @unanswered-stars

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grimlins-chaos · 8 months

Text

The numbness that comes with an unfulfilled promise..

It was quiet for the most part, petals and leaves fall from the boughs above and flutter down to the city below, a few of them landing upon the surface of the lake that Alaantheria had been simply observing, her face still a bit numb from the fresh mark- but that paled in comparison to the numbness she felt in her heart and soul. She finally got to prove herself as someone of worth, not only earning the mark of shadow, but also the Scythe of Elune. The elf looked over the fantastic weapon with tired eyes. She hardly felt anything, not just in regards to her accomplishment but to all things im general. All of it felt so meaningless. She knows all her friends are worried about her, it wasn't till some time recently when she finally gained the strength to be out amongst people again- but now she was alone. The sounds of revarly from those of the guild and other kal'dorei celebrating her and her party's accomplishments, she should be happy, she should be proud. But she just.. can't..

"For someone having finally earned her marks, you don't seem too happy to bear them." A gentle voice came from behind, causing the young elf to turn around and be just a bit surprised to see the High Priestess herself of all people standing there.

Alaantheria wasn't quite sure how to verbalize it, she didn't feel like she could speak up about it even though all of her friends hadn't ever shut her down before- some of them know their own losses and she's experienced loss herself throughout her life. There was just something about this loss that cut deeper than anything else and she didn't know how to explain it. "I'm just thinking about things, High Priestess, pay no mind to me." Alaan managed a small smile, one that felt so.. wrong to put on.

The older woman's lips quirked into a mildly unimpressed frown, brows furroed as she cocked her head to the side ever so slightly, making it clear she saw right through the young elf. "We should be truthful with ourselves, Young one. And Tyrande, please." She says as she walks up to the railing to stand beside Alaantheria. "I wouldn't be a very good priestess if I were to turn a blind eye to one of my people clearly suffering, especially on a day that's supposed to be a joyus one for her. What's on your mind, child?"

Alaan sighed a bit, her smile turning into a wristful grimace. "Where to even begin.." She turned to look over the railing, resting her arms on it as she rested her weight against it. "There was someone supposed to be here.. and he's.." She paused, throat becoming tight with emotion as she could feel the tears threatening to return. "Not.." She managed to force out.

Given her demeanor and the tension throughout the druid, Tyrande seemed to have understood pretty quickly how this somebody so dear to the girl may have departed. It was but one of many reasons why she hates the legion so passionately- the way they managed to rip so many loved ones away from people, often in the most brutal and cruel ways imaginable.

Alaantheria took in a sharp deep breath, attempting to compose herself and continued. "H-he was caught in an explosion, sacrificing himself to save others." The bitter bile rose to the back of her throat, tears forming at the edge of her eyes. She wanted so badly to be in his arms again, to feel his warm envelope her tight, even toward the end when he began to drift away from her she always knew there was something in him that loved her. Now.. now she's never felt more cold.

She was met with the feeling of a hand brushing over her leafy green hair as Tyrande spoke. "The love you shared with him I can tell was one of the greatest.. and also the most painful.. Raw, pure, forever enduring.." Tyrande looked out over the lake view. "While I've only ever nearly lost him, to be left behind while my love left to help the world or to walk the emerald dream filled me with a very similar pain- to be alone while your heart is out of your reach and you're left with the phantom feeling of them at your side.. it cuts deeper than any blade. And the whole they leave behind feels like you're standing on the edge of a gaping chasm that has no end.."

The words alone were enough to do her over, tears spilling down her freshly marked face as she buried her face in her hands and her body began to be raked with sobs, finally mourning as she never truly got to express before and it hurt- it hurt so much. Why did he have to go? It could have been anyone else, but it was him. And a part of her hating him for leaving her behind, but she also couldn't bring herself to be mad at him for many more would have died. She just missed him, she wanted him home so badly.

The priestess gently stroked the younger elf's hair, giving her all the time she needed to grieve. In time Alaantheria managed to calm down, setting her hands down as she looked over the calm lake before her, seeing herself in it's reflection, in that beautiful attire with her face flushed and her eyes wet and puffy from tears. And all she could manage were a few words in a weak and she sounded so small. "I don't know where to go from here.."

Tyrande reached over and picked a small violet flower from a vine that had been growing as one with the railing as much as the rest of the vegetation that simply merged with Darnassus' structures. "Do you know why I gave you the mark of shadow?" She merely asked, causing Alaan to look up at her, confused. Tyrande however merely smiled in return, tucking the stem of the flower into the green hair just above her ear. "Associated with the night warrior of legend, it was believed that the mark of shadow represented balance and hidden potential." She then cupped the side of the girl's flushed cheek. "If I had to guess he recognized you have so much more to give than you even realize. And now he's given you the opportunity to show the world what you can do, show just how strong you are. Take the light of his memory and the love that he gave you and live." Her expression softened as she then tugged the other elf into her arms. "He may not be here in body to watch you but I have a feeling that like I and like so many to came to see you today that he is so proud of you."

That seemed to finally grab a shakey but genuine smile out of Alaantheria as she returned the hug and the tears returned, accompanied by a small ball of warmth deep in her chest. The pain was still there.. it'd never go away, but she believed she understood what she had to do now.

#night elf #world of warcraft #warcraft #wow #tyrande whisperwind #kaldorei #art #my art #fic snippet

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wholelottatransbians · 11 months

Text

This is my sideblog for Queens Dressed in White content, as well as assorted BNHA thoughts.

I'm a trans woman writing fictional trans girls. Long time superhero fan, and had recently gotten back into BNHA.

Link to my AO3 page here.

AUs/Fics you can ask about under the cut:

Queens Dressed in White: Midoriya is a student as Seiai, along with several other girls in her age group. (Trans girl)

For Love And Justice: Midoriya can turn people into Magical Girls. (Trans egg)

Lady of Illusions: Midoriya has a Quirk based in stage magic, with a slight touch of reality warping. (Girl)

Bun for All: 1-B Midoriya with a Lagomorph Quirk. Also One for All. And a large polycule. Based partly in Deus' "Feral Fluffle" and "Cousin Rumi" AU's. (Girl)

How Monoma Neito (Accidentally) Saved Japan: In a blind panic, Monoma accidentally stole All for One, and the massive collection of Quirks within it, before joining UA. His only goal with them is to make 1-B the greatest class in UA's history.

Generation Zero: An X-Men inspired AU, where Quirked people are the minority and are actively mistreated by those without Quirks.

The Forgotten Goddess: Inspired by Deus' Divinity AU. Yaoyorozu is a long forgotten goddess of creation, and Midoriya is her loyal High Priestess.

Shooting Stars: A TTK wielding Midoriya had moved away back during Elementary School, and has no memories of Bakugou Katsuki.

Brand New Hero: An unethical MLA expreiment gives Midoriya shapeshifting powers akin to Kagemori Michiru from BNA.

Midnight Mass: Midoriya has the power to enter and manipulate dreams.

Rabbit Trick: With a touch Midoriya can turn you into a rabbit.

Bakugou Kasumi: Bakugou has a twin sister who is different from him in every way.

Daughter of Paradise: Themyscira native Midoriya Satomi.

Start a Revolution: Generator Rex crossover AU.

Hero Time: Ben 10 crossover AU.

Spiderbite: Melissa Shield with Spider powers.

Orchard Hero: Decent person Female Mineta.

Emerald Flames: Female Midoriya with a dragon Quirk.

Slipstream: Midoriya with Float, named after her grandmother.

Spellcrafter: Witch Midoriya.

Green Valley Chat: Multi AU crossover, any previous AU is able to interact with any other.

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blixvoronin · 10 months

Text

DWC Day 5: Flame

read more about the daily writing challenge for this week here @daily-writing-challenge

word count: 1270 content warning: none summary: Blix and Indraste strike out against the assault in the Emerald Dream. They have some unpacking to do. mentions: @indraste-darktalon

Blix’s mismatched eyed roamed over the landscape before her, and her breath hitched in her throat as she squeezed Indraste’s hand a little tighter.

When she’d explained what was happening in the Dream – Fyrakk’s assault, the horrors unleashed, the threat it bore to Amirdrassil – Blix had said “say no more,” and immediately packed to go.

Now, standing in what should have been vast stretches of verdant greens and endless life, she was surrounded instead by embers and death – and the look on Indraste’s face broke her in a way she never knew possible.

“Wildflower,” she whispered. “Wildflower, we need to focus. We have to get the survivors out of here. We can repair the damage, soon, but right now, I need you here.”

She moved to pull Indraste along, but the druid was locked in place, stock-still, by memories of the past and the sight of the present all at once. Tears rolled silently down her face, and before Blix could speak again, the elf’s mouth opened in a soundless, mournful scream. Indraste collapsed to her knees, and dug her fingers into the Dream’s soil beneath her feet, as if clawing her way through the layers of soot and ash to something deeper inside. Blix was with her in a heartbeat, wrapping her arms around the druid and burying her face into Indy’s back.

“Wildflower, baby, shh. Shh, shh, I know. I know. We can fix this, but we need to move, I know it hurts, baby. Come on. Be angry. Be angry, let it out, let’s tear these bastards to shreds. Show them your rage. Come on. Up, up. I need you, Indy.”

She pulled Indraste to her feet as the grief washed through the kaldorei in waves, and Blix’s jaw set. She’d make the Druids of the Flame pay for this. This was personal, on so many levels it was insane, and it made Blix inconceivably angry.

What followed was a display of brutality – Blix and Indraste carved their way through the battlefield, Indy howling her rage and her grief as she clawed and bit and tore and blasted apart Primalist after Primalist, flame druid after flame druid, and Blix a ghost on her trail swiping daggers to any target that threatened her. Between the pair, the Primalist encampment hadn’t stood a chance, and before they knew it, Indraste was on the work of rescuing those who had survived.

When she did, her face was covered in soot, blood and sweat – Blix tried not to focus on the smell of burnt flesh, of blood and piss and shit and ash. It reminded her too much of Kingsland, when she couldn’t do enough to help. Where hundreds of innocents had died.

That was then. This was now, and right now? Indy needed her.

She helped Indraste carry survivors off the field, handing them off to druids and Priestesses of the Moon. The pair remained like that for hours, making trips to and from, her doing any work Indraste asked of her and making sure all threats stayed off their tail or died to the effort.

When they eventually returned to the central encampment, Indraste had promptly shifted to her bird form and roosted in a high branch. Blix would have a hard time getting there, and she took it as a silent sign to give her some space to process what had just happened.

The Emerald Dream was beautiful – everything Indy had promised and more. But, with the carnage that Fyrakk had wrought, Blix could also see it may as well have been as painful as Indraste witnessing the aftermath of Teldrassil a second time. So, after a long time, Blix made her way slowly to Indy’s location and settled herself wordlessly on the branch next to her wife, who didn’t spare so much as a glance in her direction.

Blix didn’t speak. She didn’t need to – right now, Indy needed to process, and if she truly didn’t want Blix there, she could just… leave. Blix’s ability to walk the Dream was nonexistent; Indraste had endless plains and valleys she could escape to within the limitless swathes. But, she didn’t. If anything, after an agonizing time, Indraste slowly shifted back into her elven form. She still balanced on the branch, dull-eyed and with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The kaldorei looked small, which was saying quite a bit considering her frame; it communicated to Blix just how poorly-off she was feeling in that moment.

Blix did the only thing she knew how. She pulled her hip flask from its place, offering it to her wife, and watched as Indy took it and proceeded to indulge herself in a few large gulps before handing it back.

“What are we supposed to do?” Indy whispered, her voice hoarse. “How are we supposed to counter this? This… was never supposed to happen.” The pain in her tone was unbearable, and it broke Blix’s heart. “The Emerald Dream was supposed to be impenetrable – to be safe.”

“We press on,” Blix answered simply. “We’re already on the verge of turning the tide; I have no doubt that with enough effort, we can end Fyrakk here, before he can do more damage. Merithra and Ysera – they have a plan. They have to, right? This is their realm. They know it better than anyone else.”

“Shadowflame,” Indraste spat, “will bring an irreversible scar to these lands – something never meant to be unleashed here, like a virus. It’s foreign. It’s wrong, and now, that and these flame druids walk the Dream as if it’s nothing.” The elf’s lower lip quivered, and Blix’s head tilted.

“There has to be a way to heal it,” Blix whispered. “It can’t just linger forever, right? Not here.”

“That question should never have needed to be answered. This – all of this – it’s all wrong. This was the one place I felt truly safe, Blix, and now it’s ruined. It’s taken from me, just like everything else. Just like everyone else that made me feel safe. That’s the way it goes, isn’t it?! Take everything from me? See how far I can push before I break?” Indy’s tone had raised as she spoke until she was yelling, feathers sprouting from her braid. “I can’t fucking take anymore! I thought – I thought I’d finally hit a point where I was done losing what I care about, but instead, this happens! Of all things – the Dream. The Dream. Can you even imagine what this feels like, Blix?”

Blix’s brows drew together, and she looked away. “No,” she answered softly. “I can’t. But… I do know I’ll be there for you, the entire time. You aren’t losing me. Not now, not ever, okay?” She looked back to Indy, her gaze pleading. “Please, see that. I’m not going anywhere. Never, ever. You’re my wife, and I love you, and I’ll go to the ends of the earth to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Indraste sniffed, her eyes welling up, and she sighed as she leaned against Blix weakly. “I know, moonfire,” she said quietly. “I’m just so scared. I haven’t been this scared in years – and it’s bad enough, knowing you’ll live so much shorter of a life than I will. I always lose what I care about. I wasn’t ready for this.” Her voice broke halfway through the statement, and Blix responded by wrapping an arm around her wife and slowly running a hand up and down her side.

“I know, love,” Blix whispered. “I know.”

They sat like that, for a time – Indraste, mourning, and Blix, cursing the flame that had caused it.

#novemberdwc2023 #novemberday52023 #blixvoronin #indy #ic

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skyheld · 1 month

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Choose between being a butcher or a pauper. from the priestess to ameridan

MEME TAG | ACCEPTING!

"I refuse to believe those are our only options." Somewhere down below the canopies of the Emerald Graves, where the future Andraste promised their people lies dead and buried, pale eyes flash at her across the campfire. It is all too easy here to imagine that choice, perfectly binary, the line between as straight as an arrow's flight. Let what little they have left fade, or take up the swords that were once used against them. Burn the world themselves or let it burn them down to ash.

Had he been born a little later Ameridan knows what his choice would have been. Maybe then he'd have his own tree here, marking his fall in battle. How easy that would have been, in a way. No choice but that single arrow-straight one. A war to fight to the end and then nothing.

But this time is not so simple, and their choice is not so straight. "Some would say we deserve to kill those who killed so many of our people, that it is our turn to be butchers. But I don't want a world built eye for eye, tooth for tooth. Because when you are done butchering your enemies, you will have to look at your allies and judge them the same way; and some of them will have wronged you, for none of them will be perfect. Before long you will take out your butcher's knife again."

He stands up and walks a step or two from the fire. An old statue looms above the camp, moss growing in cracks in the marble: a bird, wings spread in flight. The head is missing, and it's difficult to tell if it is Falon'din's owl or one of Dirthamen's ravens. Either would be fitting, for here the Dalish kingdom died and here, too, lies its greatest secret: the dream didn't. It may never die.

"One day perhaps we will be forced to make that choice, and if it comes to it, I know where I will stand. But until that day, it is our privilege and our duty to choose neither."

#mercysought #meme:answered #ameridan:ic #ameridan:verse:inquisition #this was honestly unintentional but because its set in the emerald graves #you *could* see it as a prequel to that other meme i wrote when he used blood magic in the dinan'hanin #where he basically... makes the choice if only for a moment #it would be very upsetting i'm not saying you should but #:)))

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stardust-in-my-mind-blog · 3 months

Text

Hellespont

across the fury of the Dardenelles

the Greek Sea and its many monsters

there is a strategic point within the swirling seastorms

a place where sky and sea and purest light meet and fall

on the surface and high seas become all seas

a starry collection of all the sky's celestial kingdoms

it is also a natural boundary that separates Europe and Asia

the dragons of each use to play together before

everything in life pulled them away while they both

secretly looked back over their shoulders

no red and cerulean can't play today

Leander of Abydos was in love with a priestess of Aphrodite

Hero of Sestos lived in a tower spilling with ivy

and blooming with flowers and the stone was warm

with emerald moss in the summer sun and golden grasses

in the myths they say Hero and Leander

planned everything together after a festival

but that's not how love works when it's unfolding

everything is actually unintentional and awkward

and you make really painful mistakes

and responsibilities blind you and plagues are wild

and you don't even know if you ever really lived

and your youth and soul feels like children stories

and you never thought you'd out grow of fairy tales

even the songs aren't fun to sing anymore

and that's a heartbreak worse than a crush can give you

because you don't believe in anything anymore

that you can't see and you've never been like that

and in that moment of despair that you can't intellectualize

you look to the stars and cry out for help

and people cry out in very different ways

some know when they cry out someone will come

some know they might as well make it loud

some know how to make everything work except themselves

and it's awkward and some don't cry out at all

because it only hurt them to do so in the past

and to those people the gods give a star

and that was how Leander and Hero fell in love

for both of them looked out into the same sky that night

and saw the soul lanterns in each other's windows

they inspired each other and confessed things

they thought were to strangers

and then suddenly they were dancing in the sky together

that's why we have so many people who loved

in the swirling galaxies and stories of the constellations

they say Boreas, Zephyrus, and Notus

cyan, magenta, and brightest golden yellow

North, West, And South

those dimensions of each other's souls suddenly

lit up and began to calibrate and figure out

each other's dreams and patterns

and found out there was no desire to see

anyone else in that secret place of peace

a secretly protected garden of their minds

like Argos has been to Hera

but the equinoctial gales began to blow

and time has a way of drawing chaos

but because they had learned how to communicate

and understand each other in the distance

the future seemed more like a a thing they could handle

they learned how to change color and harmonize

they learned who they were outside the dance

they got to share whenever the universe

prepared a place for them to connect

and to this day we still celebrate them

these who were said to have been dashed against the rocks

for a love that was never meant to be

but the only thing they destroyed were

the versions of them unwilling to be transparent

unwilling to give and receive understanding

love is patient and kind and loves seeing

and celebrating every version of you

no matter what anyone says

and has a way of seeing you that means more

than anyone else who never saw you

because to see someone in their darkness

and love them still for their depleted colors

allows them to feel safe in their body

listening and accepting and knowing someone's experience

teaches you how to how to solve it together

balance and harmonizes and adjusts naturally

with a respect and playfulness for their passions

this is a blessing in presence not everyone gets

all of us seek this feeling in true love's kiss

that's why it's in all the stories

that's why the moon still glows

from the light of the sun you can't see yet

true love is a thing you feel and it's hard to feel

but every effort spent is worth it

and it's always worth seeking

after the fools rush in

the hierophant steals the show

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stilettobite · 6 months

Text

🥀 secret's canon gameplay events.

cece's story is one of complicated morality and finding herself in the midst of the amnesia, learning which validation she's chasing is the right validation to be chasing, and ultimately, that she should be doing what feels good to her on its own merit, and not dictated by those around her. she plays a redeemed dark urge and ultimately a good in general run, except for the fact that secret is a little shady in her methods and weighs up both the immediate and long term benefits for certain actions, while sticking to her own (almost impossible to decipher) moral compass, while somehow remaining mostly on the good side of things. this got long (even if its not as detailed as i'd like), so i'm putting it under the cut a note: obviously, everyone's playthroughs and canons are different, and plotting can happen about many certain things!

act i.

TADPOLE STATUS. dabbles with a few. trust in the dream guardian starts strong (it's in the form of her brother, who she can't remember but feels strongly enough for), but the tadpole consumption is more about her own power than respecting the dream guardian.

the nautiloid crash. - teams up with shadowheart, astarion, gale, lae'zel and wyll in that order. - agrees to help zevlor and the tieflings, investigates kahga, but doesn't confront her. - takes wyll's words at face value and strikes karlach before she has the chance to explain.

druid's grove. - convinces rolan to stay with the tiefling refugees like lia wants. - driven by her urges, strikes alfira down behind the emerald grove, but manages to make the final blow non-lethal. - isn't able to avoid killing quil. - saves arabella, doesn't help the kids steal the sacred idol. - approaches nettie for help, is poisoned by her, and she becomes hostile when the party try to find the cure. - raphael offers his aid and secret doesn't entirely turn him down, but is wary of making any kind of deal, less than him being a devil.

the goblin camp. - finds halsin and decides to take down the goblins down while he waits in the pens. - faces priestess gut alone, intending to take her away and kill her covertly, and is saved by korilla. - non-lethally attacks minthara after speaking with gut and realising they're all infected with a tadpole, with hopes of helping her, but she flees to moonrise before secret can talk to her on their own terms.

the creche. - visits the creche, sits in the zaith'isk herself, and is saved by her dream guardian. - does take the githyanki egg, but to give to lae'zel, not to lady esther. - defies vlakith.

misc. - saves barcus wroot. - saves councillor florrick. - intimidates ethel into letting mayrina go and takes a boon from the conversation, too. - snaps the wand that could return connor to life in front of mayrina after telling her she could bring him back.

the underdark.- (temporarily) works with brithvar after getting nere out of the rubble, only to extort him afterwards and demand the release of the gnomes. - finds omeluum and creates the potion he thinks will help. it doesn't, but she likes the guy. - eats the noblestalk, recovering the memory of baby's first murder spree. - lets baelen die. - turns the roethe against the duergar. - deliver's nere's head to soveriegn spaw. - finds the grymforge. - finds the sussur tree bark and makes a sussur dagger for herself.

act ii.

TADPOLE STATUS. continuing to dabble, but something feels wrong with the dream guardian, and over the course of act ii, especially after talking to minthara, starts distancing herself from consuming more tadpoles. power is important, but something more powerful on the other end of the tadpole that could take control is not a risk she's willing to take or encourage.

- takes the absolutist caravan with kar'niss to establish the cover they will need at moonrise. - tells elminster he can go fuck himself if he thinks she's going to let gale blow himself up. is gentler with gale one-on-one, but expresses the same sentiment. - saves isobel from being taken by marcus. - refuses to do as scleritas fel tells her to, not killing isobel, and then confesses to her partner that she is going to kill them and she can't control it. resists the urge, tied up by her lover all night. - frees minthara from moonrise and lets her stay in the camp. - finds arabella's parents, then arabella, and lets her stay in the camp. - saves rolan. - frees the tieflings and the gnomes (long standing grudge on wulbren bongle begins). - talks yurgir into killing himself. - talks all the thorms into killing themselves, with the exception of gerringothe. - encounters he who was, punishing the soul by telling her to stab herself (in he who was' body). gladly frees his corpse of his raven gloves. (the raven's name is quoth, but secret renames her imperator). - cures the shadowcursed lands of the curse. - helps shadowheart face the truth of her past with aylin, in turn saving the aasimar and beginning shadowheart's release from shar's grasp. - teams up with jaheira and invites her to travel with them. - tries, almost desperately, to save ketheric. ultimately fails.

act iii.

TADPOLE STATUS. the emperor can go fuck itself. no longer trusts it and will do anything against it out of spite, within tactical reason. rejects the astral tadpole.

- tries to kill the emperor in the astral prism, until its clear that it has been protecting them. begrudgingly allows him to live. - forms an alliance with gortash. - solves the open hand temple murders. - frees counsellor florrick. - doesn't hand aylin over to lorroakan - encounters mayrina again, helps finish off ethel for good. - helps wyll decide to claim his freedom, at the cost of his father's life. - keeps rakath's gold. - extends the astral prism's protection to minsc. - persuades astarion not to ascend, and to let the 7000 spawn into the underdark. - encourages wyll to become the blade of avernus. - helps shadowheart in the house of grief, ultimately killing viconia devir, and reconnecting her with nocturne. - considers raphael's deal (the emperor wouldn't like it), but ultimately double crosses him (the crown has caused too many problems for gale and thats personal now) and - enters into the house of hope to steal the orphic hammer. - made a deal with helsik, but doesn't honour it. simply doesn't return to the devil's fee once the gauntlets were acquired. - gains entry to the murder tribunal by murdering and taking the hands, contemplates becoming an unholy assassin, leaning into things that feel familiar on a muscle memory level, and very badly wants to kill valeria on non-bhaalspawn murderous impulses. ends up deciding to kill sarevok, however. something about understanding that bhaalspawn all want to kill each other and it was likely inevitable anyway. - defeats orin in single combat and rejects bhaal. - saves orin's hostage. - spits in the emperor's face and free's orpheus, who she let's become a mindflayer. - defeats the netherbrain and doesn't become the absolute.

#🥀❛ — about.#please know i am sorry about karlach. there's a headcanon post about it in there where i talk at Length about secrets decision making skill

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blizzardbattles · 3 months

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Warcraft Lore of the Druid's Awakening

Arrival of the Horde and Alliance

After the devastating events that plagued their homelands, the remnants of the Horde and Alliance sought refuge in the ancient lands of Kalimdor. As they traversed the lush forests of Ashenvale, their presence did not go unnoticed by the vigilant Sentinels. Tyrande Whisperwind, the high priestess of Elune, was informed of these strangers and initially believed them to be mere refugees fleeing from the chaos that had engulfed their lands. However, her suspicions grew as reports of the orcs felling the sacred trees of Ashenvale reached her ears. Determined to protect the ancient forest, Tyrande commanded her Sentinels to confront the Warsong clan, led by the fierce Grommash Hellscream.

The Death of Cenarius

Tragedy struck the night elves as the Shadowleaf Sentinels, under the leadership of Shandris Feathermoon, returned with grim tidings. Cenarius, the revered demigod of the forest, had fallen at the hands of the green-skinned invaders. Tyrande, filled with sorrow and a growing sense of unease, gathered her forces once more. Though Shandris suggested that the orcs might be responsible for this heinous act, Tyrande sensed a darker power lurking in the shadows, manipulating the events that had transpired.

The Rise of the Undead Scourge

As Tyrande led her Sentinels through the corrupted lands of Ashenvale, they encountered hordes of undead invaders who swiftly overwhelmed the orc and human settlements. Realizing that her small detachment stood no chance against such overwhelming numbers, Tyrande made the difficult decision to retreat. The undead pursued them relentlessly until their fel leader, Archimonde, revealed himself. With a single devastating blow, he slaughtered Tyrande's kindred, and only her quick thinking and mastery over the powers of Elune allowed her to escape into the shadows. Enraged by her defiance, Archimonde ordered his doom guard to hunt her down and destroy her.

Awakening the Druids

Knowing that the time had come to awaken the druids from their slumber, Tyrande entrusted the defense of Ashenvale to Shandris and made her way to the Barrow Dens in the sacred Moonglade. However, the path to Malfurion's resting place was fraught with peril. The Scourge, led by the dreadlord Tichondrius, advanced upon the Barrow Den, while an orcish settlement blocked the way to the Horn of Cenarius. In a desperate race against time, Tyrande destroyed the orc camp, defeated the Primal Guardians of the Moonglade, and recovered the Horn of Cenarius. With the horn in her possession, she ventured into the Barrow Den and awakened Malfurion Stormrage, her beloved.

Defense of the World Tree

Malfurion, upon his awakening, realized that Archimonde's true goal was to assault Nordrassil, the World Tree, and steal its energies to become a god. Together, Tyrande and Malfurion journeyed to Winterspring to rouse the Druids of the Talon from their slumber. Along the way, they encountered the Felwood furbolg tribe, who had succumbed to the corruption that plagued the land. With heavy hearts, Tyrande ended their suffering, knowing that there was no other choice. As they pressed on, Malfurion noticed a change in Tyrande, a hardness that had not been there before. She replied with a touch of bitterness, reminding him that she did not have the luxury of sleeping through times of peril, a subtle jab at his long absence in the Emerald Dream.

youtube

#world of warcraft #warcraft lore #wow lore #warcraft #tyrande whisperwind #Youtube

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thecupidwitch · 6 months

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Planetary Magick🌙

Sun

Zodiac: Leo

Metal: Gold

Day: Sunday

Colors: organge, yellow, amber

Stones: Amber, topaz, ruby, diamond

Tarot: The Sun

Herbs: Angelica, poppy, sunflower, marigold, hibiscus, mistletoe

Symbols: lion, hexagram, sparrow hawk, dragon, head, heart, swan

Influences: renown, potency, fortune, tyranny, pride, ambition, masculinity, arrogance, bigotry, vitality, health

Moon

Zodiac: cancer

Metal: sliver

Day: Monday

Colors: blue, sliver

Stones: moonstone, pearl

Tarot: The High Priestess, The Chariot

Herbs: eucalyptus, coconut, jasmine, lotus, myrrh, sandalwood

Symbols: bow and arrow, crab, cat, turtle, Sphinx, owl

Influences: gradtitufe, friendliness, safe, travel, physical health, wealth, protection for enemies, deception, illusion, women, emotions, healing, dreams

Mercury

Zodiac: Virgo, Gemini

Metal: aluminum, Mercury

Day: Wednesday

Colors: violet, gray, purple, indigo, yellow

Stones: opal agate

Tarot: The Lovers

Herbs: hyssop, juniper, betony, carrot, chickweed

Symbols: wand, octagram, the mind

Influences: good fortune, gratitude, gain, memory, understanding, divination, dreams, forgetfulness, communication, business, cleverness, creativity, information, intellect, memory, perception, science, wisdom, gambling, writing, root of dishonesty, deception

Venus

Zodiac: taurus, libra

Metal: copper

Day: Friday

Colors: green, pink

Stones: turquoise, emerald, sapphire, jade

Tarot: The Empress

Herbs: jimsonweed, violet, rose, alder, apple, angelica, olive, sesame

Symbols: sparrow, dove, swan, pentagram

Influences: peace, agreements, cooperation, fertility, joy, love, good fortune, jealousy, strife, promiscuity

Mars

Zodiac: aries, scorpio

Metal: iron, red brass, steel

Day: Tuesday

Color: Red

Stones: ruby, garnet, bloodstone, diamond

Tarot: The Tower

Herbs: ginger, mustard

Symbols: sword, pentagram, horse, bear, wolf, vulture

Influences: war, victory, judgements, submission of enemies, bleeding, stripping one of rank, harness, discord, conflict, aggression, lust, power, courage, goals, protection, motivation, ambition, strength

Jupiter

Zodiac: pisces, sagittarius

Metal: tin

Day: Thursday

Colors: blue

Stone: sapphire

Tarot: The Wheel of Fortune

Herbs: balm, hyssop, maple leaf and bark, oak, sage, dandelion root

Symbols: eagle, dolphin

Influences: gains, riches, favor, peace, cooperation, appeasing enemies, dissolving

Saturn

Zodiac: capricorn

Metal: lead

Day: Saturday

Color: black

Stone: onyx

Taror: The World

Herbs: alder, apple, ash, asparagus, baneberry, belladonna, distort, hellebore, blackthorn, corm, cypress

Symbols: cuttlefish, mole

Influences: safety, power, success, positive response to requests, intellect, causes discord, strips honor, melancholy

Uranus

Zodiac: aquarius

Day: Thursday

Colors: blue-green, electric blue

Stones: quartz, labradorite, blue topaz, amber, amethyst, garnet, diamond

Tarot: The Fool

Herbs: clover, pokeweed, snowdrop, foxglove, love, rosemary, trees of heaven, hellebore, morning glory, sage, wintergreen, orchids, sweet woodruff

Symbols: dragonfly, butterfly

Influences: breaking connection, sudden and unexpected change, freedom, originality, radical and revolutionary ideas, enlightenment, equality, individuality, rebellion, instability, loneliness, boredom, mistrust of self

Neptune

Zodiac: pisces

Minerals: coral, aquamarine, platinum, neptunium

Colors: green, blue, lavender

Tarot: The Hanged Man

Herbs: morning glory, night-blooming jasmine, pine, water lily

Symbols: the sea, Trident, the spine

Influences: dissolving boundaries, expanding upon ideas, changing established rules, intuition, idealism, sacrifice, glamour, illusion, evolution, decay, visions, art, healing, inspiration, dreams, creativity, compassion, drifting from reality, carelessness, stubbornness, absent mind

Pluto

Zodiac: scorpio

Metal: plutonium, tin chrome, steel

Day: Tuesday

Colors: maroon, dark red, purple, white, black

Stones: snowflake obsidian, clack tourmaline

Tarot: Judgement

Herbs: pomegranate, rosemary, vanilla, basil, poppies, belladonna, foxglove

Symbols: Phoenix, snake, scorpion, fox, eagle

Influences; destruction making way for renewal, rebirth, knowledge, spirituality, transformation, destiny, the subconscious, desire, arrogance, death, obsession, destruction

#thecupidwitch #witchcraft #planetary magic #witchblr #witchcore #witches #witch community #witch #grimoire #spellwork #spirituality

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the-mortuary-witch · 3 months

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PLANETARY MAGICK

SUN

Zodiac: Leo

Metal: gold

Day: Sunday

Colours: orange, yellow, and amber

Stones: amber, topaz, ruby, and diamond

Tarot: The Sun

Herbs: angelica, poppy, sunflower, marigold, hibiscus, and mistletoe

Symbols: lion, hexagram, sparrow hawk, dragon, head, heart, and swan

Influences: renown, potency, fortune, tyranny, pride, ambition, masculinity, arrogance, bigotry, vitality, and health

MOON

Zodiac: Cancer

Metal: sliver

Day: Monday

Colours: blue and sliver

Stones: moonstone and pearl

Tarot: The High Priestess and The Chariot

Herbs: eucalyptus, coconut, jasmine, lotus, myrrh, and sandalwood

Symbols: bow and arrow, crab, cat, turtle, Sphinx, and owl

Influences: gratitude, friendliness, safe, travel, physical health, wealth, protection for enemies, deception, illusion, women, emotions, healing, and dreams.

MERCURY

Zodiacs: Virgo and Gemini

Metal: aluminum and mercury

Day: Wednesday

Colours: violet, grey, purple, indigo, and yellow

Stones: opal and agate

Tarot: The Lovers

Herbs: hyssop, juniper, betony, carrot, and chickweed

Symbols: wand, octagram, and the mind

VENUS

Zodiacs: Taurus and Libra

Metal: copper

Day: Friday

Colours: green and pink

Stones: turquoise, emerald, sapphire, and jade

Tarot: The Empress

Herbs: jimsonweed, violet, rose, alder, apple, angelica, olive, and sesame

Symbols: sparrow, dove, swan, and pentagram

Influences: peace, agreements, cooperation, fertility, joy, love, good fortune, jealousy, strife, and promiscuity

MARS

Zodiacs: Aries and Scorpio

Metal: iron, red brass, and steel

Day: Tuesday

Colour: red

Stones: ruby, garnet, bloodstone, and diamond

Tarot: The Tower

Herbs: ginger and mustard

Symbols: sword, pentagram, horse, bear, wolf, and vulture

JUPITER

Zodiacs: Pisces and Sagittarius

Metal: tin

Day: Thursday

Colour: blue

Stone: sapphire

Tarot: The Wheel of Fortune

Herbs: balm, hyssop, maple leaf and bark, oak, sage, and dandelion root

Symbols: eagle and dolphin

Influences: gains, riches, favour, peace, cooperation, appeasing enemies, and dissolving

SATURN

Zodiac: Capricorn

Metal: lead

Day: Saturday

Colour: black

Stone: onyx

Tarot: The World

Herbs: alder, apple, ash, asparagus, baneberry, belladonna, distort, hellebore, blackthorn, corm, and cypress

Symbols: cuttlefish and mole

Influences: safety, power, success, positive response to requests, intellect, causes discord, strips honour, and melancholy

URANUS

Zodiac: Aquarius

Day: Thursday

Colours: blue-green and electric blue

Stones: quartz, labradorite, blue topaz, amber, amethyst, garnet, and diamond

Tarot: The Fool

Herbs: clover, pokeweed, snowdrop, foxglove, love, rosemary, trees of heaven, hellebore, morning glory, sage, wintergreen, orchids, and sweet woodruff

Symbols: dragonfly and butterfly

NEPTUNE

Zodiac: Pisces

Minerals: coral, aquamarine, platinum, and neptunium

Colours: green, blue, and lavender

Tarot: The Hanged Man

Herbs: morning glory, night-blooming jasmine, pine, and water lily

Symbols: the sea, trident, and the spine

PLUTO

Zodiac: Scorpio

Metal: plutonium, tin chrome, and steel

Day: Tuesday

Colours: maroon, dark red, purple, white, and black

Stones: snowflake obsidian and clack tourmaline

Tarot: Judgement

Herbs: pomegranate, rosemary, vanilla, basil, poppies, belladonna, and foxglove

Symbols: phoenix, snake, scorpion, fox, and eagle

Influences: destruction making way for renewal, rebirth, knowledge, spirituality, transformation, destiny, the subconscious, desire, arrogance, death, obsession, and destruction

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