#nocturnal prayer

[illustratus]

Night on Mount Athos - Nocturnal ascent on Mount Athos

by Hermann David Salomon Corrodi

Monks walk to the Mountain Monastery of Athos

[branffro]

Mizrak clutching his pearls that the Abbot has a daughter is because he thought they were all having gay sex

[austerulous]

◈   @agglomerate​​ sent ❂ to get a moodboard for our muses

[sserpente]

The Sunwalker's Gift

Synopsis: Legends say those who were cursed to live in the shadows are not lost. There is a ring, a ring of incredible power that allows its vampiric wearer to walk in the sun once more. If there is one thing you know, it is that Astarion—your partner, your lover—deserves to own this ring more than anyone. You put yourself in great danger to acquire it for him without his knowledge but in the end, you succeed. So now, what magical piece of jewellery would be more suitable to propose to the vampire spawn you want to spend the rest of your life with than this one?

A/N: Who’s the goose that’s on the loose…

Words: 1694 Warnings: so much fluff, mentions of smut, SPOILERS FOR ACT 3

Blood, tears, sweat, another suicide mission. The rusty ring in your hand almost appeared as if it hadn’t been worth it to risk your neck and sanity for it but appearances were deceptive. This unassuming piece of jewellery in your hand held the answer to Astarion’s prayers. The very object that had made this long and exhausting search so rewarding in the end.

He didn’t know about it yet. He had no idea you’d had a lead with this legendary object at all. And after months of relentless and disappointing searches, Astarion had all but decided the ring was just another myth created to mock him in his misery… to the very point you had begun to doubt your decision to stop him from finishing Cazador’s work and letting him ascend.

You took a deep breath, shaking your head to chase the thought away. No. Walking in the sun was not worth spoiling his mind, his very soul—regardless of the fact you would have never left his side. You’d decided that the night he had confessed his feelings for you. This man was to be yours, forever.

Now you’d give this ring a little bit of polishing, and a bath in vinegar and soap and then you were certain it would look as good as new. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face, to see the first moment he slid it on his finger and stepped back into the daylight without tadpoles and sacrificed souls. Nervousness washed over you when you pictured your plan in your head but there was no doubt—only excitement and impatience.

Today would change his life for the better. Perhaps one day, if he so wished, you would even find a way to cure his vampirism altogether but for now, you wanted him to have this gift.

Your shared bedroom was empty, the sheets unmade and the smell of sex still lingering in the air. You were still getting used to the nocturnal lifestyle, of course. Staying up with him all night and sleeping during the day was messing with your inner body clock but it was a small price to pay to be with him.

The wooden door leading out to the balcony was open, the barest hint of light pouring through the gap. You approached it on bare feet, the hinges creaking when you pushed the door open further.

“There you are,” he mused without turning around. Astarion was leaning against the metal railing of the balcony, staring into the darkness. A few torches here and there lit the still-sleeping city as the sun began to crawl up from behind the hills, the chirping birds urging it on to start the morning. He truly was a sight to behold—shirtless and pale, even with the everlasting scars Cazador had inflicted on his back, you were overcome with the urge to drag him back to bed and have your way with him in an instant. You did that a lot these days—giving him pleasure upon pleasure without asking for anything in return. Astarion had learned in a rather rewarding way what your mouth and tongue could do for him. Teaching him to be intimate with you in a both consensual and sensual way was a task you were happy to pursue.

You hummed in response, walking up to him to sling your arms around his middle from behind, the ring hidden in the pocket of your morning robe. You pressed the side of your face against his back, his cold skin cooling your heated cheek.

He had been doing this a lot lately. Dragging out the final moments of the night, catching a glimpse of the sun and Baldur’s Gate below him before retreating to the shadows again to ensure his own survival. No more. You sighed.

“What is it, darling?”

“Nothing… I just… love you.”

Astarion chuckled—a barely audible sound coating your heart like sweet honey. At last, he turned around to face, your arms still wrapped around him. You had to look up to meet those crimson-red eyes and the gentle smile tugging on his lips.

“I love you too.”

“I don’t ever want to be apart from you again, my love.”

“Nor I from you,” he purred. His smile was gentle, genuine. You’d fought hard to make him drop that wall of feigned confidence and reveal the real feelings lying underneath. Now, you couldn’t get enough of it. “Let’s head back inside. I’m starting to feel… warm.”

“Just a moment, please.”

The vampire spawn raised his eyebrows but waited nonetheless.

“You said forever,” you went on, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Yes?” He dragged the word out and smirked, reciprocating your hug now; his palms resting against your waist. His closeness calmed your nerves, encouraging you without him knowing.

“I… I want forever to start now. I want us to belong to each other and I want everyone to know.”

“Oh my… you’re feeling quite poetic today, my sweet. I don’t object.”

The first sunbeams hit the stone floor of the balcony upon his playful teasing and you could tell that he was getting nervous, eager to flee to the bedroom to avoid the angry burns he expected any moment now.

With a deep breath, you freed yourself from his embrace and took a step back to get down on one knee. It was then you saw the surprise dominating his beautiful face, his lips parting. Determined, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the shiny ring, holding it out to him.

“Astarion Ancunín… will you make me the happiest woman of Faerûn and marry me?”

It took him a heartbeat to remember how to draw oxygen himself, it seemed. He muttered your name under his breath, red eyes fixed on the plain but powerful ring in your hands. He didn’t recognise it, of course, didn’t expect it to be what it was. He had no reason to believe that this unimpressive piece of jewellery was about to return something to him which should have never been taken in the first place.

“Marry you?” he repeated, almost unbelieving. “I… I do, love. I want… yes.”

Yes. You smiled, the weight of uncertainty falling from your shoulders at once. You took his hand in his, sliding the ring on his finger and rose to your feet again, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him.

Astarion melted into your affectionate treatment without hesitation, yet you could tell he was holding back. Uneasy, he pulled away.

“Darling, as much as I would like to savour this moment, could we celebrate our engagement inside?” He glanced at the sun rising higher and higher. Any second now the balcony would be fully submerged in its warm light.

Instead of responding to his plea, however, you only smiled at him. You were certain this would work—you had seen the ring in action after all, made sure it was safe before you took it to your love. You had met up with Dalyria, one of Astarion’s spawn siblings, in secret, only two days ago for this exact reason and she had volunteered to try the effects of the ring—saying it was the least she could do in return after Astarion had freed them.

“I need to get inside!” You reached for his hands when he panicked, holding him in place. Only seconds later, you were both drowned in the soft morning sunlight.

Astarion squeezed his eyes shut and flinched, expecting the burn and the pain the day brought him—but nothing happened. He remained standing, the sunbeams warming his skin.

“What… what is… how is this possible?” he breathed out.

“The Sunwalker’s Gift. It’s the ring, Astarion.”

His red eyes widened, disbelief swinging in his smooth voice as he looked down on his ring-clad finger to admire the shining piece of jewellery reflecting the sunlight. “But… but how? How did you get it?”

“The mage we found and spoke to contacted me a few weeks back. He put me in touch with a bard who meddled with vampires before—two of which, after a couple of pints, revealed that the ring was every vampire’s secret dream and rumoured to have been buried with a deceased vampire lord in the lands north of Rivington a couple of centuries ago. After that, the mage and I returned to do more research and discovered where his tomb is located.”

“And you went to this tomb… alone? Have you lost your mind? Gods, anything could have happened to you!” He was trying his best to be upset, truly. You had to hold back a giggle when his voice went a little high-pitched. It was flattering knowing that the only person this gorgeous man had ever truly shown honest concern for was you.

“I wasn’t alone, I promise. I had help. Halsin and Gale accompanied me.”

“Halsin I can understand. But… Gale?” He pretended to gag, eliciting another childish giggle from you. But then, his tone became more serious once again.

“You did this for me… I…” The very hint of an embarrassed laugh clung to his words. “I’m not sure I even deserve you.”

“You do. I love you. And you’re stuck with me now. You just agreed to be my husband, remember?”

“How could I?” Astarion muttered your name again. There was admiration and affection as it left his lips like a prayer. You had no doubt that part of him was still processing what this engagement ring really meant. It was too early still for joyous screams and running across the flower fields hand in hand. “Thank you. This is… I did not dare dream of this and yet you continue to surprise me. I just… thank you, my love.”

You nodded. “I told you all I want is for you to be happy. I would have turned every single rock in Faerûn to find this ring for you. Now come on. We have a long day ahead of us and a wedding to plan.”

Astarion smirked, his red eyes sparkling with joy, relief and affection. “Darling… there is nothing I’d like more.”

A/N: I am so crazy for him this is abnormal even for me. I'LL BE GETTING A GROUP PHOTO WITH THE WHOLE MAIN CAST AT MCM, I'M SO HYPED!

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC Prompt. Dead on main with priest Jason: Father Todd brings the Ghost King’s cult into the World of the Living.

So, when Jason dies and returns, the League of Assassins fails to hold him for long because spirits from Far Frozen pick him up after seeing teen through the Lazarus pit.

Jason quickly realizes that, well, they’re kinda obsessed with their cult of the Great One. And yeah the cult of the ruling Ghost King was very popular during the reign of the Pariah Dark but back then the rituals were carried out more out of fear. Now things are different. The population of the Ghost Zone has become interested in the activities of Frostbite and his loyal spirits because of an attempt to understand what kind of ghost the new ruler is and how best to thank and appease him. So Jason had no shortage of stories about the teenager's deeds.

~~~~

Jason to Frostbite: Well, you guys and your lil hobby are nice but I don't understand at all what's so cool about this guy, even if he defeated Pariah Dark and gets along with most of the Ancients…

Danny: *comes to visit Frostbite*, *slips and falls three times, sets the kitchen on fire in an attempt to make coffee then sheepishly smiles at Jason*.

Jason to Frostbite: ... Okay, Understandable, I Hope Danny Has a Nice Day and Some Sleep.

Tucker: Congratulations, you've acquired another Paulina. Great job. Danny: I'd rather he just asked me out instead of worshipping me. What the hell? I'm just a semi-ghost.

Tucker: Maybe things would be easier if you just gave him your phone number, you know? Danny: But he didn't ask. Tucker: Why didn't you ask? Danny: I couldn't! He's Robin himself, you know? Tucker: Well, good luck to you idiots to grow old alone near the altars of each other's name. Danny: Actually lil altar in his honor is not such a bad idea. Maybe this way he'll understand that I like him too.. Tucker: Danny, no!

~~~~

New in Gotham robbers break into Jason's place: Hey, father, God ordered you to share with your neighbors, so bring us some money or we.. Jason, who is talking on the phone with Danny: In fact, he just said that if you don't get out of here now, he will turn a blind eye to the fact that I will use my guns.

Danny*screams internally*: Oh Ancients, he's sooo cool!

Pandora: Honey, we're happy for you but stop flooding us with spam. You have already told 5 times during prayer how good his abs and chest look and how perfect Todd is when he reads aloud. We get it, okay? Clockwork: Well, I actually enjoy it. It's so much more interesting to watch while listening to the internal dialogue. Show must go on~ Danny: ...Get out of my mind! Nocturn: Thou shalt not take the name of the Lords in vain if you don't want to share with us, lil blob. So rude.

~~~Team Song: You Are My Religion · Firehouse~~~~

[sorcerous-caress]

Early morning cuddling pt.2

[Fluff, wholesome, nb!reader]

[Halsin, Astarion, Shadowheart, Gale]

Part One

Halsin

You'd think that you married a fairytale princess by the amount of small animals you wake up each morning to, cuddling by your side and nuzzling against Halsin's warmth.

Not that he seems to mind. If anything, he seems the happiest sharing his bed with all those willing. His strong arm keeps a hold over you during the night, keeping you close and secure to his chest while he easily falls into a state of meditation. He prefers keeping the window open and listening to the wind outside, swaying of leaves and chipping of bird in the morning.

You did wonder what exactly does he think about during his meditation, and he confessed he replays his favourite memories. Reminding himself of what's worth fighting for in this life.

His palm cupping your face so gently, rough from centuries of tending to plants and magic practice. You can smell the earth embedded in his skin.

Who is worth fighting for.

If you're the type to sleep in during the morning, he happily indulges you as you cuddle closer to him. Resting your head on the rise and fall of his chest.

Letting the drumming of his heartbeat lull you into the land of dreams, just for a short while, maybe five minutes more.

feeling his hand draw circles on your back soothingly. You catch a glimpse of a whispered prayer to the father of nature, Halsin asking him to protect you, keep your soul and heart pure, keep you by his side for as long as this cycle of life allows.

♡

Astarion

You only realise the worth of love after having experienced solitude.

Astarion came to realise how much it meant to have someone just hold you in bed, nothing more, a simple body laying next to him in blissful sleep.

To have someone relish in your company so much, feel safe around him so much that you'd willingly want him to stay by your side while you were the most vulnerable.

It feels strange in his heart, a twing or guilt, even shame.

What did he do to deserve this?

How are you so peaceful next to a vampire? This isn't a camp on some ditch in the backside of Faerun anymore, this is your home that you've willingly and foolishly invited a vampire into.

But maybe he was the biggest fool, for he kept holding you close, fangs tucked away as the smell of blood was the least of his interests at this moment. The living really has a captivating way to steal one's attention.

what dreams do you have?

Each night is like a trance, and before he realises, it ends so suddenly when glowing lines of light just below the thick curtains peak on the floor.

It's morning already, but it felt like a second, he wants to hold you for a lifetime, hug you for a century, kiss you for a decade and whisper your name as if it was his last breath.

He wants so many things, he has so many conflicting emotions. Astarion doesn't want to get attached, you're fleeting, mortal, alive and so loveable.

And he is none of these things, at least not in his views.

But after so much misery, he deserves to steal one good thing from the living, you. It doesn't matter if he has earned it or not, you willingly chose him, loved him.

Embraced him as you woke up, eyes sleepy as nuzzled into him further with no regard to how cold his skin might be in contrast to your warm blanket.

"Darling, you know I'm supposed to be the nocturnal one in this relationship, right? Or did you grow fangs during the night." He voice was laced with an unusual softness, a stranger to his own ears.

You grumbled as he pulled away, chasing after him with adorable slow speed with your hand as you attempted to bring him back.

He's not a sadist.

Okay maybe he is.

But torturing a sleepy you, is becoming one of the highlights of his days. It makes waiting here all night worth it.

♡

Shadowheart

Her eyebrows scrunch into the most adorable glare when she first wakes up. The children of Shar and Selune have never been morning people, present or past.

The tips of her ears slightly twitch as the cold morning reaches her after you manage to steal the blanket in your sleep, wrapping the soft thing around you and leaving her to the mercy of the chilly weather.

Stirred from her sleep, she has a half mind to acknowledge how endearing you look besides her. Peacefully in your slumber and unaware of the crime you've commited, letting your beloved freeze to death in the early morning.

With a sigh, Shadowheart reaches over to untangle tha blanket edge from your iron fist as she squeezes herself inside the makeshift cocoon you've assembled. Instant warmth and comfort greeting her the more she pressed her body onto yours.

Despite how heavenly you feel, sleep has already evaded her grasps. Once she wakes up, she's the type not to fall asleep afterwards. Doesn't help how much of a light sleeper she can be at times.

So she closes her eyes and basks in the moment, fully enjoying the presence. The quietness of the morning where the people haven't woken up yet, the stillness of the air, the slow rhythmic breathing as your chest rises and falls.

She wants to trace your face with her fingers, she wants to admire your eyes, but she doesn't want to wake you up so instead her arms gently hug your body closer to hers.

Safety, comfort and love, things she was taught were a sin to desire, things assumed to make her weaker.

But being weak has never felt so good before, if what she's doing is wrong in the eyes of any god, then she might as well embrace her spot in the hells with your arms as her grave.

♡

Gale

He's changing you slowly, and you're not sure if it's for the better or worse.

What started as you teasing him over his cotton pyjamas with cat paw prints, turned into you wearing a matching one after he bought you one and sweetly coerced you into it.

You look so silly. You can't even deny it as you watch your reflection in the mirror. Watching in real time as your dignity evaporates into thin air while your lover is searching for his reading glasses under the bed by using magic to lift it in the back of the mirror reflection.

Turning around, you feel your lips tugging into a smile as you notice the pair of reading glasses pushed up on his head while Gale is scratching his said head and mumbling about how he just had it close by.

Where could it have possibly went, you wonder.

Calling him over, you watch as he adorable walks over to you with a hopeful look that you've somehow found his glasses like you usually do. As if you were the wizard in this situation who'd make it appear out of thin air rather than the academically acclaimed professor Dekarios in front of you.

Your hand cups his face, and he leans into it without question. Planting a small kiss on his lips, you lower his glasses back onto his face as you pull away. Gale's delighted expression rewards you with a second kiss, calling you his hero.

The two of you fall asleep with a dim light illuminating the room, stray magical star enchantments making the bedroom just bright enough for Gale's midnight reading, or midnight paper grading.

You either learn to tough it out or use that equally silly eyemask that came with your cat pyjamas.

Gale's usually the last one to fall asleep, except on weekends when he's in bed by 9. But since tomorrow, he has to be guiding the future generations of wizards in Faerun, you get his wandering hand playing with your hair or massaging your neck as you drift off to sleep.

By the time morning comes, he's tucked in a blanket by your side. Glasses crooked on his face for he forgot to remove them, again.

Reaching over, you gently take them off of him and set them on the bedside table. Giving his forehead a soft kiss as you check the time and see that you still have a quarter of an hour before he has to get ready to leave for work.

You wrap your arms around him, and he leans into your touch. Even while asleep, his body has complete trust in you, recognising your warmth and letting you cuddle him.

It would've been a very romantic early morning cuddling for the two silly people in embarrassing cat pyjamas, wasn't it for the scratching of paws on the locked door of your bedroom.

The sing-song yelling of Gale's last name following shortly, courtesy to Tara announcing to the whole world how you're a minute late to delivering her morning meal and the carrier pigeons outside are starting to look more and more like grilled chicken wings by the second.

[guardsbian]

notn advice for newbies!!

everything is gonna be really hectic at first!!

so stay put and try not to panic— everyone else can smell the cowardice emanating from your pathetic, quivering body!

you may not make it! in fact, you probably will not make it.

every bone in your body will be tested, continuously undergoing a cycle of breaking and mending, across the span of hundreds of thousands of lifetimes, within a matter of a weeks.

so make sure to keep stretching those wrists!!

the voice telling you to hatch eggs can not be classified as right or wrong, good or bad, or any other useless mortal dichotomy, because it does not abide to "our" rules of logic or morality! it does have rules of its own, though, so watch out!

remember, it's not called "night" of the nocturne for nothing— nights are the most dangerous time of all!

there is no hope of salvation! prayers will not save you, for when the nocturnes come, they do not discriminate between the blasphemous and the faithful.

ok guys have fun out there!! especially all you first timers ^v^!! personally I can't wait to get some more eggs, even if the nocturnes gnawing endlessly on my liver are a little much LOL

[cryptomiracle]

more creepypasta headcanons

(+ marble hornets)

WARNINGS:

Ooc? Idk

I started this at 2 am and you can tell

Cursing

I write on my phone so the format may be a little weird

Any brands, games, or characters mentioned in this do NOT belong to me, nor am I sponsored by them in any way.

This is very unserious, I've noticed that a lot of my other hcs usually take a "dark" turn and so I decided to make some that didn't.

You could even say they're a bit... silly.

You should totally check out my masterlist for more hcs (it's pinned)

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Characters: masky, hoodie, ticci toby, jeff the killer, and BEN DROWNED.

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Jeff:

he's extremely hard headed, he WILL argue/fight with someone over the dumbest things and he'll never stop arguing, even if he knows the other person is right.

He has an "emo accent"

He likes to start drama between people, and then leave the crime scene.

He is so ashy you could strike a match off of his elbow

He's been wearing the same beat up converse since 2012, them things are being held together by duct tape and a prayer.

His favorite animal is a raccoon, he says they're sneaky and nocturnal like him.

He refuses to get a new phone, he won't even steal one.

He curses all the time just cause he can, sometimes he'll even jumble random curse words together.

BEN:

He listens to vocaloid and he doesn't play about miku

He runs one of those "rage bait" accounts that are painfully obviously bait

Still quotes old memes and refuses to let them die

Example: yeet, t-posing, and "sanic the hedgehog"

He scams old people on Facebook and e-daters, he doesn't feel bad about it either.

He uses the money he gets from scamming to buy v-bucks and overwatch coins

He once doxxed someone for dissing miku

slender had to take away his mic privileges because he was keeping everyone up at night by yelling bloody murder at people on fortnite/overwatch

once showed up at someones house because they emoted on him after killing him in game

Toby:

He vapes, and thinks he's so cool cause he can do "vape tricks" and he makes people watch him while he does them

Someone once gave him apple cider, told him it was alcohol, and he pretended to be drunk.

His phone gallery is filled with random photos, like there'll be a low quality picture of a tree and then right beside it a picture of a ceiling. Just random stuff

Mint chocolate chip ice cream enjoyer

He's really flexible, although he has bad posture he can do back bends, the splits, etc

more on his terrible posture; when he sits he literally looks like this: ) )

When he first started working for slenderman, he REFUSED to live in the manor and lived outside. While he lived outside he became friends with a lot of the wildlife, slender eventually made him move into the manor because there was a rumor that toby was going to make a "possum army" and try to overthrow slender

He will fight anyone and anything he really doesn't care about his, or their well-being.

Had a "weeb" phase when he was in middle school and he still has nightmares about "naruto running" away from his bullies.

Hoodie:

He can make a killer sandwich (lol) he's not the best at cooking other things, but if you get him to make you a sandwich, he'll bless your taste buds.

He loves karaoke, he can't sing for shit but he still does it anyway

He acts like a millennial (I'm sorry) not to the point where it's completely unbearable, but he will send people "relatable memes" every now and then

He enjoys online arguments, he'll never participate but he will scroll through different threads of people arguing for hours on end

He likes for people to say stuff like "GO WHITE BOY GO" to him

He blushes when he lies, he's a scarily good liar but if you ever want to catch him in a lie, point out the fact that his cheeks are red.

Whenever he has a drink with a straw, he holds the straw in-between his tooth gap.

he sends streaks.

Masky:

He has a NASTYYY side eye, and sometimes he'll scrunch up his nose while side eyeing someone just to make it sting even more

Contemplated getting a mullet once, he never went through with it though.

He coughs like someone's grandfather who smoked three packs of cigarettes a day for 40 years

If someone says a word that reminds him lf a song he likes, it'll automatically get stuck in his head and he'll hum it all day after that.

he isn't weak when it comes to stinky smells, but if it's stinky enough to make him gag he's extremely overdramatic.

he learned how to sew because of how much he ripped his jeans, shirts, etc.

Sleeps so hard sometimes people think he's dead, he'll just be laying there looking casket ready but everyone is too scared to check on him cause he gets super grumpy when woken up.

he always keeps a little money hidden somewhere, even if it's just a 5 dollar bill.

he's superstitious, if he sees you attempt to walk under a ladder he will physically drag you back and make you walk around it.

he has a pair of brass knuckles which he only saves for "special occasions" they're his favorite things ever, he even named them.

he only uses his phone to call, text, or search something up, and that's it.

he doesn't even have YouTube installed.

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I will be reading over this to check for any errors, ty for reading - M

[radiance1]

Ok, now hear me out here.

Giant plant lady Sam.

Now, if we go with that hc (iirc it is one) where ghosts like Undergrowth, Vortex, Nocturn etc are like gods or something.

Then we could say that Sam died, either by old age, sickness, or injuries either or, and Undergrowth decided to take her soul and turn it into something more.

As such, her soul becomes saturated with the magic of a god, such that she herself, becomes a god, well more of a lesser deity but meh.

Then he drops her off in the DC universe on a rather secluded island, giving her a few pointers to turn this entire island into her place of power and domain. There isn't a set time limit really, however long she needs to take to condense and control her powers is however long she'll take, so long as the entirely of this island becomes her domain.

Which it does, and overtime whatever people that live on the island come to regard her as a goddess and in response, start to worship her as one as well.

Why did Undergrowth drop her into DC on a secluded island? To keep her away from Danny until she properly cemented her power, of course. Can't do that if you get distracted by a figure from your past life.

Sam was just going about her (new) life, making the forest flourish, helping the crops grow in answer to her followers prayer, you know. The normal things a nature deity like herself is supposed to do.

Then one man suddenly dropped himself on her island, and she could practically feel the power coming from him, of many different gods at that, even from in her place in the center of the island.

So of course, she asked her followers to try and bring said man to her, and be careful when doing it.

When one Shazam was spending his time just flying around the world, he expected a lot of things. But one of them was not meeting a giant plant goddess lady on a secluded island.

[llovelymoonn]

favourite poems of december

a.r. ammons collected poems: 1951-1971: "dunes"

jennifer robertson shrill shirts will always balloon

n. scott momaday in the presence of the sun: stories and poems, 1961-1991: "the delight song of tsoai-talee"

ted berrigan the collected poems of ted berrigan: "bean spasms"

natalie diaz when my brother was an aztec: "abecedarian requiring further examination of anglikan seraphym subjugation of a wild indian rezervation"

greg miller watch: "river"

joanna klink excerpts from a secret prophecy: "terrebonne bay"

dorothy dudley pine river bay

brenda shaughnessy our andromeda: "our andromeda"

frank lima incidents of travel in poetry: "orfeo"

lehua m. taitano one kind of hunger

no'u revilla kino

linda hogan when the body

paul verlaine one hundred and one poems by paul verlaine: a biligual edition: "moonlight" (tr. norman r. shapiro)

mahmoud darwish the butterfly's burden: "the cypress broke" (tr. fady joudah)

mahmoud darwish the butterfly's burden: "your night is of lilac"

amir rabiyah prayers for my 17th chromosome: "our dangerous sweetness"

sara nicholson the living method: "the end of television"

charles shields proposal for a exhibition

ginger murchison a scrap of linen, a bone: "river"

tsering wangmo dhompa virtual

anne carson the beauty of the husband: "v. here is my propaganda one one one one oneing on your forehead like droplets of luminous sin"

muriel rukeyser the collected poems of muriel rukeyser: "the book of the dead"

anne stevenson stone milk: "the enigma"

david tomas martinez love song

robert fitzgerald charles river nocturne

thomas mcgrath the movie at the end of the world: collected poems: "many in the darkness"

linda rodriguez heart's migration: "the amazon river dolphin"

donald revell the glens of cithaeron

sumita chakraborty dear, beloved

angela jackson and all these roads be luminous: "miz rosa rides the bus"

kofi

[illustratus]

Evening Prayer of a Farmer by Artur Grottger

[aemondtargaryenonlyfans]

DAEMON TARGARYEN.

Mini-Series.

You‘re The Only Thing That I Pray For -> completed

“You’re King Viserys oldest daughter, but it was Queen Alicent that has taken you under her wing, strengthening your very being with her own faith. All your prayers resolve around one thing, though a betrothal has already been made. But what if you want the opposite of your pious nature? You’ve been so faithful to the Seven, so it is only right they finally offer you something in return.“

One-Shots.

A Fine Line (between Love and Hate)

""I would rather feed my sons to the Dragons, than have them carry shields and cups for your drunken, usurper cunt of a King." Your husband’s words still lingered in the back of your head and drove you mad with fury."

Comfort

"You understand the Rogue Prince like no other, and so it’s your task to put his mind at ease again when he stumbles into the brothel."

Of Dragons and Wolves (x Cregan)

“You and your husband came to Dragonstone on behalf of your cousin Jacaerys, needing your help in the upcoming war of succession. However, you seem to be in need of something entirely different.”

Guileless

“The streets of Flea Bottom most definitely were not the place a noblewoman like you should seek out at night, but tonight marked one of the last nights you got to enjoy your freedom for you were to wed in four days.”

Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time and Detached from the Bothers of Life

"It’s clear as day that he’s merely using you as a means to an end, to satisfy the desperate need of having something he alone could control. Even after his older brother has conceded the executive chair to him, Viserys still gets involved to the point his younger brother truly doubts his leadership qualities. And if this is one way for him to cope with it, you certainly won’t complain."

Suspicious Silence

"Daemon was working from home today to take care of your daughter while you were out for brunch with Floris, his nephew’s wife that’s also winding down the halfway mark of pregnancy just like you. And although it’s around your toddler’s daytime nap time, it’s too quiet when you open the front door to your penthouse. Suspiciously quiet."

A Dragon to Share

"For a fortnight, you’ve been spending your nights with Aemond and Aegon. But what happens, if there’s yet another uncalled visitor joining you? Improper revelations lead to the fulfilling of a long-buried desire of yours."

Encouragement

“It's 105 AC. Your brother, King Viserys, wants to throw a feast in honor to announce his wife's pregnancy. You want to attend—if it weren't for the rising doubts about your changing body. But it's good your husband knows a way to ease your worries.“

Stress Relief

“Your hands lie folded in your lap, thumbs brushing over each other in a way to keep yourself calm. You have been married to Daemon for two summers, but know his silence never means anything good. It is threatening, and more often than not getting you into trouble, because he always has something to say.“

Heavy Is the Head That Wears the Crown

"You stand in front of the intimidating Iron Throne, reminiscing about all the times you’ve seen your father sitting on it. The heavy doors open behind you, but you don’t turn around, knowing all too well who intrudes the silence. “Skoros iksis ziry ao jeldan naejot ȳdragon naejot nyke nūmāzma?” you ask, but before you’re able to turn around, the weight of your husband’s chest against your back pushes you forward, the crown on your head toppling to the ground. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Nocturnal Worship

“‘Expect me at the Hour of the Owl, sweet girl,’ he had said to you as your lesson ended. ‘And I shall teach you what is expected of you on your wedding night.’ And the sheepish nod and the blush on your cheeks let him know you truly endorsed it.“

Deep Devotion

Lactation kink smut lol

Drabbles. 

No. 1 | No. 2

MASTERLIST NAVIGATION.

[argisthebulwark]

Hold Onto Me, Dear. You're Too Far Away.

summary: Drabbles of how various Skyrim men would react to their partner passing away. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Miraak, Erandur, Vilkas, Teldryn, Mercer, Arnbjorn warnings: Non graphic depiction of death/loss. Grief.

Brynjolf would be lost. His mind has no capacity for work, hardly managing to keep himself upright. The depression, grief, denial, the all-consuming anguish he cannot escape is more than he can take. Eyes full of pity and empty words of reassurance do nothing, he can do nothing other than miss you. He closes himself off. He is unwilling to become close to anyone else in fear of losing yet another person he loves. There has been too much loss already, surely loneliness is easier than this. "'Hope Nocturnal's treatin' you right, love. If there's somethin' after death you better be waitin' for me."

Miraak would tear the world to shreds. Without you, he sees no point in allowing the world continuing to exist. No corner of Nirn is spared from his rage. Refusing to appear weak he forges his sadness into a burning, bottomless anger. He allows no daedra to take your body nor honor you as their champion, fighting even Hermaeus Mora away from any attempt to claim you. All other titles fell second to the one you held most dear, the one he whispered against your skin every night before sleep. His beloved. "You gave me your word! You swore that should we go, we would go together. You lied."

Erandur would mourn you deeply and eternally. He ensures that you live on in every action he takes, your memory carried on in him. Each marriage he presides over and every couple he blesses is done in your name as much as Lady Mara’s. His first and last thoughts of the day reserved only for you. Your name features frequently in his prayers, never letting you go. "My dear, I know you are looking down on me. I hope you are proud that I continued our work mending this nation, but words cannot express how badly I wish we could do this hand in hand."

Vilkas throws himself into his work. Your work. Becoming the Harbinger in your stead is only natural as you were so close, sharing the workload for years. He works himself to exhaustion because it is easier than confronting the chasm of grief that’s opened deep in his chest. It is only in the wee hours of early morning when he finally thinks of you. When night is beginning to pass and the Sun plucks at the horizon, vision blurred with oncoming sleep. He's wrapped in blankets that still smell faintly of your favorite soap and wishes desperately that you would somehow come back to him. "Please, just one more night. I can't do it all on my own. I just need one more night with you."

Teldryn loses his laughter. Gone is the friendship, all clients becoming nothing more than that. His helmet remains firmly in place as a clear barrier that he will maintain. There are too many lost friends and stories he alone remembers. He keeps the same table at the Retching Netch and can almost imagine you next to him. He stares over the rim of his drink daring you to plop down into your usual spot, laughing at the idea of being apart. Other patrons learn quickly that despite it being an empty chair it is not to be touched. "Been thinking about heading to Skyrim, I've seen enough of Solstheim to last a lifetime. Sure wish you were comin' with me."

Mercer’s rage would tear through Riften like a storm. All sense of duty is forgotten in his thirst for revenge. Bloodlust is his saving grace, the thread that keeps him from barreling headfirst into grief. Brynjolf recruited you, Delvin and Vex trained you, Maven hired you - they are all at fault in his eyes. He will not rest until your death is paid back tenfold. He bottles up any thoughts of you until he lays face up in the Cistern, bloodied and beaten by people he'd once considered family. The rage fueling his rampage finally deflates, the dam broken and that horrible ache filling every inch of his body. He lost you and had no one else to blame but himself. "Never thought I'd see the day, never thought I'd be the one left here missing you."

Arnbjorn would depart from the Dark Brotherhood. Two loves, two Sanctuaries, two tragic losses. He can't remain stuck there, frozen in time surrounded by all those memories. He's skilled enough to forge his own way in the world, departing from Dawnstar without looking back. Metal working allows him the solitude he craves, somewhere far away from persistent questions and eyes filled with pity. He wants only to escape the onslaught of memories of those he’s lost, steeling his heart against ever loving again.  "This is all your fault. You're the one that made me care. Your fault for makin' me fall for you."

[ineffablelvrs]

THE BIG BYLER FANFIC RECS POST PART 2

PART 1 HERE

!! btw a lot of writers repeats so im tagging them only the first time !!

under the cut :)

you always have been by andiwriteordie (@andiwriteordie)

This Love Left A Permanent Mark by expectantbits

Press Me Between Your Pages (Preserve Me Like a Memory) by elsie (the_technorats)

come home to my heart by solarhazard

And We Kissed, As Though Nothing Could Fall by orphan_account

cheer up, baby by perexcri (@perexcri)

can i ask you a question...? by lavenderlenaa

the time of my life with you by andiwriteordie

not all the prayers by astrobi (@astrobei)

hung up on you by fionaapplejuice

what can i do by delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy) (@parkitaco)

Nocturne by lilacline (@lilacline001)

Girls Like Will? by FoodieHoodie (@foodiewithdahoodie)

Soft Spot by argylemikewheeler (@argylemikewheeler)

so, kiss me by ethqreal

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes by borealisaurora

what do we do now? by orphan_account

Muse by Kakerutori

kiss me, kiss me with your eyes closed by bxni

Codependent by Kakerutori

in a world unlike our own by RomeoWrites (@itsromeowrites)

Drowning (but only for a moment) by EmeraldTulip (@willelbyers/@lowriting)

moments that we stole by andiwriteordie

the higher i climb, the farther i fall by andiwriteordie

cartwheel heart by loveism

love me on purpose by smoosnoom (moonsooms) (@smoosnoom)

the tightrope I call loving you by gaseingwith_myself (@sage-greenery)

who you gonna call? (mike wheeler!) by andiwriteordie

in from the snow by delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy)

to love or to be loved (that is the question) by mogiah (@morganee)

it's dangerous to go alone! by beansie (@byeler)

Static Re-connection by IllogicalFallacy (@illogical-fallacy)

a bed in your shape by passerine_in_jade (@newlesbianprideflag)

a sad beautiful (tragic) love affair by mogiah

Yuanfen by skinsfairy

Only You by NightOwlFury

in the quiet of the night series by andiwriteordie, astrobi, wiseatom (@wiseatom)

i want to know what love is (i want you to show me) by andiwriteordie

be that attached (to the person I'm holding) by mikeslawyer (@mikeslawyer)

the windows of this love by delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy)

every breaking wave (shipwrecked souls) by eightfifteen (funkylittlebidiot) (@eightfifteen)

heaven ain’t close in a place like this by wheelerism

Stepping On the Last Train by SuzieBurself (@suzieburself)

into the daylight by andiwriteordie

wide awake, but you are not here by messrsbyler (@messrsbyler)

whispered words down by the lake by mogiah

a traveler to polaris by miketozier (smallcuts)

The Evening Speaks by nbfutureboy (@futureboy-ao3)

filling in the blanks as we go by delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy)

king of my heart by bookinit (@bookinit02)

try to walk away (but i come back to the start) by andiwriteordie

[beansidhebumbling]

Any chance of a Nesta x Eris drabble?

Let me know what to think. As tends to be the case I lost control of the length.

Warning!: smut

Patience and Other Vices

His hand glances over hers at dinner.

It's an accident. She's been so studious in her avoidance of his gaze, his presence, the mere mention of his name since the announcement. Tonight and this brief touch are just another in the long list of regrets he surely ties to her name.

He reaches for the pitcher of water just as she does and their fingers brush.

He has the hands of a pianist, dexterous, elongated, agile when they play on the keys, when they play with her.

And how he played her.

***

Their eyes catch.

He's thinking of that night too.

She knows as his eyebrows furrow, light colour tinting high cheekbones, left hand clenching his fork in a death grip as his right lingers- outstretched and alone.

If he is striking in sunlight, he is devastating in candlelight, the sharp cut of his jaw and his glare cast shadows, even as the rich red tones of his hair burn and flicker under the gentle wavering glow of the candelabra.

***

Long fingers pump inside her in a rhythm she chases but cannot catch as her head falls back on the rich navy velvet shoulder of his tailcoat.

'Please... God in heaven please.'

Gasping and breathy, a more sincere prayer than any she has ever offered on a Sunday.

He lets out a low chuckle.

'That's not my name, sweetest. Plead to me, look only to me or I may take note from your God and be very cruel indeed.'

And when he stops the infernal masterful movement, she finds herself possessed, for that is the only reason Nesta would be compelled to beg him.

The plaintive cry that leaves is a sound foreign to her ears,

'Please my Lord. Do not stop or I may die and take my spot in Hell alongside you.'

She squirms in his lap, attempting to create her own friction. Her cunt, as he calls it, as he taught her, is stretched and hot over his blasted unmoving fingers.

Cunt.

The word looks blunt and crude on paper, in the secret letters sends. But when said by him it sounds more like treasure, more like covet. The word dripping in awe and adoration.

She is full in a way she never achieves with her own tender nocturnal explorations. He taught her this too, the importance of self-exploration, coaxing her to find herself in the wet messy flush of carnal pleasure.

He pinches her right nipple with his free hand, brief and chastising.

'This is a lesson in patience Nesta. You are learning to wait for me.'

Another mean twist, this time to her left nipple.

'And you still haven't said my name.'

'Eris.

Eris.

Eris.'

Each gasp is breathier than the last. She loves the familiar shape of his name, how it falls from her tongue.

A confession no deity could pry from her.

'Good girl.'

The dance of his fingers inside her continues once more.

A reward.

And she thinks maybe he needs no confession when her loud moan at his praise is a sure equivalent.

'Look at you. Beautiful and bared like Venus for me.'

He pulls her hair so she is once more looking in the mirror at the wanton naked figure that is splayed across the Duke of Vanserra's clothed form.

His fine leather boots still gleam under moonlight.

He reduces her to this wild, unkempt thing. Hair undone, blood rising to her cheeks, her chest, eyes glazed and starry.

But if it is a reduction why does she feel like so much more when held in his arms?

She comes apart with the practiced thrum of his thumb on her button, his name the only chant she knows as her mind whirls and galaxies fall apart and come together again behind her eyes.

She sees love in the kisses he presses on her collarbone, in the gentle pass of a washcloth along her centre and thighs, in the delicate way he redresses her in her nightwear before sneaking out the window, a thief in the night, her heart buried between his and navy velvet.

***

She is patient.

Patient when his nightime visits and secret letters stop suddenly.

Patient in her rejection of those who come to call, to plead for the privilege of a promenade.

Nesta Archeron, the diamond of the town, is patient a full week until word of his engagement to Lady Morrigan Velaris reaches the breakfast table, gossip spilled between tea sips and flaky pastry. A most advantageous match. Very likely to be the wedding of the season.

When Nesta retires with a migraine she goes unnoticed. Her tears, salty and unceasing, flow onto her pillow, heartbreak and rage released like a river, like a flood.

The smell of pine and leather and tobacco lingers even now.

She burns her bedsheets.

***

She is no longer patient.

The deluge of letters returns, multiple daily, even when he doesn't dare show his face.

Unread they join the ash of her bed linen in the grate.

And when Lord Cassian, still a little too loud, a little too slow, brings her flowers, yellow roses with no hidden messages, she accepts them with a smile.

He never makes her feel more, but he never makes her feel less.

Her engagement is announced the same day the dissolution of Eris' is published in the gossip sheet.

***

She sees him at church.

Gaunt and sickly, stress marked in the crease of his forehead, the anguish of his gaze.

The burn of his stare does not relent through the sermon and she wonders if this is her damnation.

Because despite it all she longs to smooth the wrinkle of his forehead, hear the low timbre of his voice.

***

He attempts to knock on the balcony of her room that night.

When she wakes the house with screams about intruders he does not try again.

***

She should have guessed he'd somehow finangle a way to Lord Cassian's dinner.

She thought it safe considering the still smoking wreckage of his dalliance with Morrigan.

She underestimated his cunning and unflappable shamelesness as he bats off Lord Rhysand's increasingly cutting remarks about failed nuptials with all the ease of breathing.

When the men depart into the smoking room she seizes her chance to catch a breath in the conservatory.

He finds her.

Of course.

***

She is alone all of thirty seconds before she hears the urgent clap of boots on the tiled floor.

He confronts her by the orange tree, his eyes frantic and jaw tight.

'Nesta.'

Her name sounds like a prayer.

Her response stops his urgent pace towards her.

'My Lord, I'd advise you to return to the party before you are missed and warn you against using my name with such impropriety in future.'

Her tone is clipped, words measured, as her heart bleeds within its cavity.

'I...'.

A speechless Eris Vanserra is a new sight to her.

She takes her chance at escape, dipping so shallowly it hardly bears the definition of a curtsey, she begins to walk away, heading towards the ruckus of laughter and chatter.

A thud causes her to turn, skirts twisting around her frame with the sudden movement.

He kneels, shoulders hunched and face bent to the floor.

'Nes-my darling. I beg of you, have mercy and stab me before you once more deprive me of the honour of company.'

'My Lord, cease the melodramatics and rise this instant.'

She snaps.

'Anyone could walk in, you fool.'

He huffs a strangled laugh, maimed with pain.

'I'm a fool you're talking to, my love. Beter shade a fool than every other colour I've been'

He looks at her then and God save her he's crying.

How dare he?

The fury that churns within her is only matched by the sorrow that threatens to expose itself in the faultlines of her masked expression.

'Get up Eris. This is a misery of your own design. You used me and discarded me. I will put up with no further humiliation.'

The light that sparks in his eyes when she uses his name dies quickly as the proceeding words hit him like blows. He flinches but still holds her gaze, like he fears she may disappear if he blinks.

A valid fear to hold.

'Did you.. did you read even one of my letters, my Lady?'

She arches an eyebrow, disdainful at the question and her premature rise in rank. It's answer enough.

His next words are rushed, fearful she'll leave before he finishes she imagines. That is her plan but she finds her feet glued to the spot as he continues, tripping over words, voice shaky.

'It was an arrangement by my thrice-cursed father, still haunting me beyond the grave. I asked you to be patient while I tried to sort it discretely. I thought you'd never have to know, to worry. Rhysand forced my hand and I was engaged and by the time I escaped it you were ...'

He gulps, shaking his head, long hair moving like silk, like he is trying to dispel the reality.

'I...I kick myself for not telling you before. It haunts me, every missed opportunity to propose to you, to do it the messy way, cleverness be damned. I'll die sick and bitter that I squandered my chance to be yours. But I cannot have you ignore me like this anymore.'

He stands then. Makes his way towards her, pulling her hands, that must have clasped around her mouth at some point, towards him, grasping them like they hold his salvation.

'I will be whoever you want me to be, Nesta. I have proposed marriage, friendship, acquaintance in my letters, poured my soul to you in pretty words, calculated and considered to try and redeem myself. I am unprepared while struck stupid in your presence. I only have these clumsy pleas but do not question their sincerity when since the moment I've met you I've loved you. Since your first barbed comment my heart has been yours. I will be anything but do not make me a stranger. Grant me this, I beg. I will kneel if you wish. I would risk it all to have you look at me softly once again.'

Her heart escapes between the faultlines as a tear falls down her face.

His right hand reaches, outstretched and alone, hovering, shaking by her face.

She turns her head to kiss his palm.

She feels his pulse beneath her lips.

Patience is recovered in quiet citrus-scented air.

[artemis-potnia-theron]

Personal prayers based on epithets 💜

Artemis 🌙 🦌 🏹

Praise to divine Artemis of the wolves and of the deer. She of the hunt and of the fire. Swift running archer who haunts the forest and roams in the night. Shooter from afar.

She of the hymns. She who soothes. Light-bringer Phoebe. Willow-bound and royal Diana. Beautiful empress who bears a golden sword on a golden throne. Strong-voiced revered maiden.

Beloved and loving priestess. Holy guardian who stands before the door. Immortal torch-bearer. Goddess queen of beasts. Praise be to Artemis, deliverer and savior.

Apollo 🎼 ☀️ 🦢

Praise to holy Apollo with the silver bow. Bright son of Leto and of Delphi. He of the oracle. Prophetic healer and foreseeing averter of harm. Light-bringer and destroyer of evil.

He of the locusts and the wolves. He of the python and the dolphin. He of the ash-trees. Rescuer and helper. Wandering physician. Far-worker and rouser of armies.

He who watches the heavens. Leader of the muses. He who protects the streets and bestower of Dionysus. Praise be to Apollo, shining light of the sun.

Hekate 🗝 🔥 🐕

Praise to mighty Hekate, destroyer and child of Perses. She of the underworld. She of the wayside and the crossroads. Irresistible and indomitable queen of those below. Holy bringer of light.

She who holds the keys. She who haunts the mountains. Nocturnal one. Fond of solitude and hidden. She who wanders in the night. Lovely and revered only begotten maiden.

Immortal guardian and spinner of fate. Leader of the dogs heralded by roaring beasts. Three-formed protectress at the gate. Praise to Hekate, attendant and guide.

Let me know in the tags if there are any other deities you'd like to see! 💜