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frantic-fiction · 9 months

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Reoccurring Nightmares

(Gif: margonite-seer)

Astarion x GN!Reader / Astarion x Good!Durge

Summary: A night reveals that maybe the past is not left behind, and maybe old urges have begun again. As people always say healing is never linear.

Triggers/Tags: Implied mentions of self harm. Violent topics. Angst Hurt/comfort.

Minor spoilers for Durges plot line nothing very specific but you have been warned.

Word Count: 2.2k

(Quick note I gave reader Tav's name so hope y'all don't mind)

Cold damp earth thunders under your feet as you run, each step echoes in the silent woods. Your chest heaves, each breath a meager attempt to fill lungs that can't seem to feel satisfied.

Why are you out here?

The forest is a maze, and you navigate it with urgency, propelled forward by the rhythmic pounding of your heart. It threatens to break free, like a wild creature desperate to escape its cage. You don’t stop, fueled by the momentum and the all-consuming fear clawing at your throat.

Why were you running?

This isn’t the first time your memory has betrayed you, leaving you disoriented in the unknown.

Ducking beneath a fallen tree, the rough bark scratches against your skin. You turn sharply and press on, the underbrush snapping beneath your hurried steps. The surroundings are a blur, darkness shrouding any discernible features. The moon, a mere sliver in the night sky, casts an eerie glow through the dense canopy.

A plan forms in the chaos of your thoughts. The distant sound of water becomes a lifeline; a river might offer refuge from a pursuer. You move toward the sou-

Your foot snags a root, and you collide with a rock. Blood fills your mouth, the metallic taste jarring, familiar. In the darkness, your hand tightens around a shard of glass. The moonlight reflects off its jagged edges, casting faint ethereal patterns on the forest floor.

Frogs and crickets harmonize in the night, their symphony a stark contrast to the turmoil within. The beauty of the scene clashes with the disarray of your mind. A brief moment of clarity emerges, allowing you to catch your breath.

What happened?

You examine the shard of glass, uncurling your fingers for a better look. A deeper wound reveals itself, and the blood flows unabated. The taste and sight is both revolting and comforting, a paradoxical sensation that grounds you in the reality of pain.

Where did the glass come from? Memories fracture, and images of a shared life flood your mind. The house on the outskirts, memories of love and healing. Someone's absence looms, silver curls and sharp teeth; Astarion, a question unanswered.

Knees pulled to your chest, you notice the blood-soaked clothes. Panic sets in; that part of you, the monster believed buried, threatens to resurface. Did his blood taint you again? Did you harm Astarion?

Jerking to the side, you vomit, the weight of imagined horrors overwhelming you. The riverbed offers a cold sanctuary, and you scrub the blood away. The water numbs your body, but you persist until your fingers ache. The raw emptiness grows, time stops, and the world holds its breath in shared grief. You can’t face your friends; the word "friend" is tainted by your actions. Astarion’s absence is a void you can’t bear.

Wasn’t this the fear? The fear that kept you awake, haunted by the possibility of losing control. The dark whispers that the urges would resurface.

Your reflection in the river, blood-soaked and tormented, triggers waves of self-loathing. The glass shard gleams, a macabre symbol of your descent into the abyss.

Fingers graze the cold surface, and a distant voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Tav!” The sound pierces through the chaos, freezing your movements.

“TAV!” Astarion’s voice, a lifeline in the disarray.

Frantically searching, he emerges from the trees, disheveled and relieved. He is by your side in a moment joining you halfway into the river. He cups your cheek, his touch offers a brief respite, a moment of grounding in the maelstrom.

Words are cement in your mouth. You're mystified by the reality that is facing you. Astarion is here, in front of you. And, in fact, very much alive. You reach up with a shaky hand to barely caress his cheek, as if a more stern touch would shatter the fragile moment. He grabs your wrist and kisses your cold palm softly.

“You’re alive,” you choke, collapsing into his chest sobs rolls through your body.

He momentarily freezes in confusion at your words before refocusing at the current urgency of your state. Pressing you tighter against him, Astarion strokes your hair and gives you a gentle kiss to your hairline. Maybe he had just fed before finding you, or maybe it's a testament to how long you have suffered the freezing night, but he’s warm. You bury yourself deeper in his embrace, hiding your tear-streaked face in his neck.

“Of course, my love,” He softly says and holds you a moment longer, allowing you to feel the truth of something he’s not quite understanding but knows is important just the same. But little by little, he begins to pry you from his body.

“No,” you make a pathetic whine in protest, desperately trying to stay attached. Too afraid that once you let go, he’ll disappear and the truth of what you did will be brought back into the moonlight.

“Hush now, my sweet,” Astarion stands up suddenly and removes the heavy jacket you had given him. Kneeling back down, he drapes it over your shoulders.

“You have been in the middle of the woods in freezing weather for gods know how long. And you've had a bit of a swim.” His thumb brushes the line of your cheekbone. “Let’s get you home so I can warm you up, and if you are feeling okay tonight, we could discuss what my darling was doing alone out here.”

He doesn’t leave room to argue, and you have none to give. So he takes you in his arms and begins to walk. You’re too tired to speak, so you simply curl closer into him and resume your position, face tucked into the crook of his neck. His scent invades your nostrils, and finally, since waking up in the woods earlier this evening, you breathe a sigh of relief.

***

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you awake on the plush sofa in your living room. Astarion must have moved it because it is now as close to the fireplace as safety would allow. The only thing standing in its way was the intricately sculpted metal table Dammon had gifted you for a housewarming gift.

What seemed to be the entire house's stock of blankets was now piled on top of you, effectively cocooning you in cotton and silks. You try to sit up, but find that no strength is left in your bones.

“Stari?” You croak, your voice hoarse from your sobs.

There is not an immediate response, just the crackling fire and the rustling of dinnerware from the kitchen. You don’t bother to call out again; you know he’ll be in to check on you soon. When it comes to you, Astarion’s mother hen tendencies rear their head with great urgency.

While you wait, you stare transfixed into the fire, mesmerized by the crackling wood and swirling ash. The chaos of fire has always been interesting to you. In small quantities, fire can bring warmth to a home and light to darkness. But uncontrolled fire burns, burns everything in its path. No mercy, no complexities, just fire and fuel; anything in between is insignificant in the grand scheme. It's familiar, too familiar.

Maybe this topic was best left untouched; maybe you hated fire. After all, fire is made to burn.

“Oh good, I was just about to wake you,” Astarion sets a tray on the coffee table. “I made tea,”

He starts to unearth your body from your blanket tomb and helps you into a more seated position before moving to the armchair. You catch his wrist; his crimson eyes meet yours. You're not entirely sure what you want; you just can’t bear him being so far. Not after thinking he was lost to you forever.

“Hold me?” The words are barely above a whisper, hesitant as if Astarion has ever denied you anything. “Please,” you tack on for good measure, though you're not sure why.

“Of course, my sweet,”

Handing you your tea, Astarion motions you to lean forward so that he can slip in behind you. Sandwiched between his legs, he wraps an arm around your middle and eases you against his solid torso.

He’s warm; you must have been right. During your trek in the woods, he must have stepped out to feed. Now that the winter is approaching, he’s been hunting larger game; he likes to be warm, says it’s not always fair when you're the only one bringing heat into the relationship.

He silently urges you to drink your tea, and you do. It’s quiet; neither of you speaks; you simply drink your tea and Astarion comforts. Hands gently trail up and down your arms, in between peppering tender kisses on your neck and shoulders.

You know what he’s doing. You’ve done the same tactics on him plenty of times in the past. He’s waiting. Waiting for you to speak first. To share with him why you were in those woods. What horrors brought you there. It’s an unspoken rule between two very broken people. You offer each other comfort, the safety each has lacked in the past and wait. If or when the person wishes to speak, the other listens.

But how do you even begin to describe the night that has occurred? The terror, the guilt, the hatred. It all just boils in your chest like wet tar. You can’t even really explain what happened to yourself. Once the tea is finished, you pass the cup to Astarion, who in turn returns it to the tray.

With a deep breath, you say simply, “I thought it happened again,” he knows immediately what you're saying and holds you just a bit tighter.

“I-I-I don’t know what happened, b-but I was just running. I was… Gods, Astarion, I was so scared.”

Pushing the blankets further away from you, you turn in his arms and wrap around his neck. His eyes reflect the same sadness and fear you are feeling. “I was covered in blood, and then…then all I could think about was you,”

Tears begin to roll one by one down your cheeks; he collect them with his thumbs. Tears of his begin to follow a similar path. “I thought it finally happened,” you're crying harder now, hiccuping between words.

“I thought he finally made me kill you,” words began to fail you from there. You pathetically tried to say more but the only sounds that escape are choked hiccups and wet sobs. When you know you have no hope of continuing you simply hide your face in your hands, no longer wanting to face the world.

“We’re okay, little love. Everythings okay.” Astarion is rubbing soft circles into your back, repeating calming phrases until they stick. “I’m here, nothing can change that. You’re okay darling.”

It takes a lot of lovely words and small touches before your breathing calms down and you seem to have run out of your tear supply for that night. But even then Astarion doesn’t let go. You two stay interlocked, warmed by the slowly dwindling fire. He clears up your scattered thoughts.

Astarion's voice, tinged with concern and a hint of reassurance, breaks through the remnants of your panic. "It was probably just one of your nightmares," he offers, a familiar acknowledgment that nightmares are woven into the fabric of your existence. In the quiet aftermath of your ordeal, the weight of his words settles in the still air.

As he gently extracts one of your hands from your tear-streaked face, the dim light catches the glint of a heavy bandage wrapped around your trembling fingers. The glass shard, a cruel messenger, the night will leave its mark. With a tender touch, Astarion guides your gaze to the bandage, and then, with a careful motion, he lifts the fabric of your pants to expose a larger wound on your thigh, neatly covered in thick gauze.

The size of the injury is alarming, and the realization dawns that stitches would have been a necessity. Astarion's eyes reflect a regret that mirrors your own. "I should have been there, I'm so very sorry, my love," he whispers, his voice carrying the weight of an unspoken vow to protect you from the horrors that lurk within your own mind.

As you open your mouth to argue or perhaps offer words of comfort, Astarion anticipates your protest. "Regardless of what you are going to say," he interrupts, his words cutting through the heavy air, "from now on, I will be feeding exclusively when you are awake." The admission reveals a vulnerability in his eyes—a fear that lingers from the night when the scent of your blood permeated the air, and you were nowhere to be found.

"There was nothing more frightening than coming home to the smell of your blood and you gone." His hand begin to play with a strand of your hair. "Not to mention the absolute nightmare of a talk I’m to receive once I call for Shadowheart come morning, because I’m still not convinced you didn’t contract hypothermia during your midnight swim.”

A small smile plays on your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the impending lecture from Shadowheart, whose disapproval you can almost taste. Astarion seems to relish in your smile, and he cups your jaw, pressing his forehead to yours in an intimate gesture that transcends words.

"That is all behind us," he declares, a note of determination in his voice. "Our wounds are still fresh, but we are here, and we are healing. We'll get through this, we always have." His smirk carries a promise of resilience, and you nod in agreement, surrendering to the irresistible urge to find solace in the warmth of his lips pressed against yours.

Author's notes: Oh boy I haven't posted any of my writings since 2018 but damn BG3 has sparked something in me. Astarion is something special and I love him. If anyone has some ideas they would like to throw my way I would loved to see them.

Feedback is welcome, hate is not! Have a nice day, cheers.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x dark urge #astarion #astarion imagine #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #baldur's gate #fanfic #writing #reader insert #astarion ancunin #angst #hurt/comfort

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chunkypossum · 4 months

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Azris Week 2024 Master List

I knew I wanted to participate in @azrisweek this year but I think I went nuts. Tried to make sure I planned only one shots but a couple of things will be WIP. I have also decided that I hate everything I have ever written but you’re getting it anyway 🤣

Going through final edits the next couple days. Here's a rundown….

Ps… I’m the worst summarizer EVER…

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Day 2: Familiars || Once Upon A Dream

14k words || READ ON AO3

Elain is nice, quiet and easy to be around. Azriel and his shadows find solace in her company. When her powers as seer become evident however, Azriel is forced to reckon with a familiar part of his past that is about to take on a whole new meaning.

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Day 3: Contact || Between Us

9k words READ ON AO3

Physics and the Immortality of the Soul . The most ridiculous notion Azriel could have picked to build his career around. He had spent half a lifetime tasking himself with impossible questions which very few people took seriously. A strange nostalgia for things he didn’t understand manifested after a childhood accident. This set his life on a path that one day leads him to the front doors of a strange library full of precious and one of a kind books and an even stranger connection to someone completely unexpected. One of which might finally give him the answers he was seeking.

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Day 4: Free Day || Just for Tonight

9k words READ ON AO3

New High Lords are extremely vulnerable. It’s a well known secret that as the new magic enters their bodies they have no more protection than a newborn. When Eris finds himself forced to take the throne, becoming completely helpless, he goes to the one place, and the one person he thinks may just save him.

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Day 5: Slice of Life || The Trees Told Me About You

8k words READ ON AO3

A few months after their mating frenzy “activities” in the dirt of the Autumn Court. High Lord Eris finds himself drawn to the very woods he and his mate had shamelessly rolled around in.

What he finds there shapes their lives forever.

This can be read independently but if you want additional context and did not read Kerosene, you can read the first half of this chapter

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Day 6: Changes || When Even Moonlight Burns

Chapters 1 & 2 (WIP) || 10k words READ ON AO3

The long list of things Eris had found to be grateful for over the years, not so surprisingly, didn't exactly feature a quiet, unassuming existence. The thrill in what he was, demanded pride and exhibition, and gods was he good at playing that game. Well, he had been good at it. Now, as much as he loathed to admit it, there was an odd satisfaction to be found in the simplicity he had agreed to. Unfortunately, as Eris quickly finds out you can't always have the brutes you want... and eat them too.

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Day 7: Solstice || What we Deserve

Chapters 1 & 2 (WIP) || 13k words READ ON AO3

Once upon a time, Eris thought that he and Azriel could be mates whose bond just hadn’t settled yet. It didn’t make sense for him to be so drawn to the male when they were at odds in every other way. It had to be the Mother, had to be fate. Now he knew for sure, it had been none of those things, only simple, stupid want. What happens when Azriel finally finds his mate but it isn't the the male he is already in love with?

If anyone would like to be tagged, please just ask! <3

Holla at ya boi if you want on or off the Azris tag train : @talibunny30 @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot @fell-in-luvs @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee @youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl @baileybird71 @skyesayshi @yanny-77 @areyoudreaminof @unanswered-stars @futurehunt @ninthcircleofprythian @matrixsss @going-through-shit @c-starstuff-man0 @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @krowiathemythologynerd @cauldronblssd @hieragalbatorixdottir @yourlazykitkat @hellolordling @climbthemountain2020

#azris #azris fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x eris #azris supremacy #acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris vandaddy #azriel acotar #azris angst #pro azris #eris angst #azriel angst #eris smut #azriel smut #azrisweek2024

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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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fostydosty · 5 months

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Rachel Elizabeth Dare chose to swear an oath of celibacy to the god Apollo as a part of gaining her oracular abilities. This entails visions of the future that she expresses through paint, green smoke bellowing from her mouth at inconvenient times, and being immune to divine retribution (and possibly being injured by literally anything?)

But… what if she swore an oath to his sister too?

Rachel Elizabeth Dare, daughter of mortals, chosen of the Sun and Moon. Immortal and ageless. Eternally prophetic. Can shoot an arrow through a keyhole. Can slay any monster and piss off any god. Her predecessor was cursed by Hades to never enter the Underworld…. Damn, that sucks. Too bad she’ll be 17 forever anyway.

Imagine fighting someone that see more clearly than any other creature (even some gods can be tricked by the mist in ways clearsighted mortals cannot) *can read normally and has an attention span*, can foresee your every move, and *you can’t even touch bc they are divinely protected*.

Her two oaths are:

I accept this role. I pledge myself to Apollo, God of Oracles. I open my eyes to the future and embrace the past. I accept the spirit of Delphi, Voice of the Gods, Speaker of Riddles, Seer of Fate.

I pledge myself to the Goddess Artemis. I turn my back on the company of men, accept eternal maidenhood, and join the Hunt.

Also imagine the twins bickering abt which one of them Rachel gets her archery skills from (it’s both. But mostly Artemis). She’d also be able to illuminate herself w moonlight and maybe have like a Will moment and glow like the sun too.

Also also imagine the only daughter of the highest god (above the age of 2), the daughter of war itself (sister to the Amazons, child of Rome, apprentice of the greatest sorceress in history), and the chosen vessel of the Sun descending upon you with a firing squad of silver arrows and two dozen other equally talented girls.

Let my girl be a badass plz and ty

#rachel elizabeth dare #percy jackson #trials of apollo #hunter of artemis #hunters of artemis #artemis #apollo #oracle of delphi #camp halfblood #thalia grace #reyna ramirez arellano #reyna avila ramirez arellano #circe

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iguessit-sgrace · 24 days

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creepy freaky pandora hcs?

anon how did you know 👀

my pandora is a FREAK

and we love her for it

her full name is pandora artemis rosier <3

she's twins with ev obvi. it was just her and ev for so long in the manor that when they went to hogwarts, it was hard to break their codependency. hence why pandora hung out with the pantheon (skittles) despite their different houses.

she was a hatstall! not a very long one, but the hat took a little while deciding between slytherin and ravenclaw. it stressed evan out to heck and back when she was put in ravenclaw instead of slytherin, which was where their family had been for centuries. of course, ravenclaw was much more acceptable than, say, gryffindor, but it wasn't slytherin.

unfortunately, ravenclaw was not kind to pandora. she was odd, both in her appearance and her mannerisms. she stared at people too long, didn't talk to anyone but slytherins, collected weird charms and hung them around her neck. the only ravenclaw she got along with was xenophilius ollivander (YES HE'S AN OLLIVANDER DEAL WITH IT (except he went by his mother's maiden name instead, which was lovegood)) and xeno was just as eccentric as she was weird. he wore radish earrings and bright yellow clothes and let her practice as many spells on him as she wanted. as she got older she got more eccentric than creepy, started laughing more, and becoming her bubbly, weird self instead of the creepy recluse she was forced to be in the manor. (i love her creepy self but let's be honest, pandora is a extrovert through and through and when she and ev were alone in the abandoned manor, she had no contact with anyone but the occasional house elf or their grandparents. she basically missed her social development and had to catch up in hogwarts, where everyone kept a clear distance from her.)

her patronus is a luna moth <333 but later on it changes to be a dragonfly like xeno's.

okay so appearance-wise, i see pandora two ways. in my head, she's either poc with white-blonde hair and brown eyes; or she's albino with purple eyes. i generally lean towards the first, but i can see her either way.

pandora calls xenophilius "phil" and it's the most hilarious thing ever because she managed to give the guy with the weirdest name in school one of the most generic names.

and yes i mw the seer pandora hc. however she doesn't mess with the widely practiced divination bc she thinks it's dumb. she does her own form of divination basically.

she collects insect wings and puts them on earrings. i said what i said, argue with the wall.

she made her own elf/faerie ears and wears them e v e r y w h e r e. it got to the point that she basically gaslit students into thinking they were natural.

she has a silver dragonfly locket that xeno gave her, which has a photo of them and luna. (it's on her neck when she dies and luna never takes it off after that).

her clothes are old fashioned and FUNKY

she walks so quietly that when she walks into a room nobody heard her and she kind of just appears and their fear fuels her

she collects seashells with xeno and paints them and they hang them in their house

during fifth year, when she finally starts coming out of her shell, she hangs out with barty a lot and starts hexing the other students with him. she just gets so angry and frustrated at her visions and the students and her family and the war and- (yeah, she kinda snaps).

during the night, she sneaks out into the forbidden forest and just dances in her nightgown in the moonlight. she's met more than a few unicorns while she's out there.

her favorite time of the day is 11:11. purely because of the numbers (she loves arithmancy). she tells the pantheon to make a wish every time she sees it.

omg how have i not brought up regulus yet???? tumblr i have failed you i'm so sorry

she and reg are best friends. closer than that, even. (she's his james, ykwim?) they met on the astronomy tower as he was sobbing over a letter sirius sent him. she just sat next to him and comforted him the same way she comforts evan: listing random facts. she started telling him all about the constellations and the science and history and mythology behind them. when she got to leo he told her his name.

they write letters to each other all the time, especially during the summer. one year, regulus finally manages to convince walburga and orion to let him stay at their manor (his parents had no idea it was abandoned: they assumed he was securing a friendship with one of the young rosier heirs.) that summer is the memory both pandora and regulus use to cast their first patroni.

pandora doesn't smoke cigarettes but she does smoke weed. almost every time that she, barty, and xeno are together they're stoned.

xeno was her first and final love, but there was a time that she couldn't keep her eyes off of the beautiful redheaded girl with eyes like emeralds. and there was a time that the beautiful girl would meet her eyes, smile, and look away.

she collects river rocks and old keys and insect wings and music boxes that are out of tune and crystals and flowers and seashells and anything she can get her hands on.

her familiar is a white cat named luna. and yes, luna lovegood is named after the cat luna.

she helps regulus with the horcruxes once he discovers them. they fake their deaths (only xeno knows they're alive) to hunt and destroy them.

her singing voice sounds like aurora and no i will not be taking criticism. apple tree is literally about her and regulus!!

she had a miscarriage shortly after luna was two. she was supposed to have a boy named caelum (who would be barty and evan's godson) but she lost him in the second trimester :(

she and xeno take his mother's maiden name because neither of them like their families.

this isn't technically about pandora but i had to put in that barty calls luna "lunatic"

ahh my girllllll

she's so weird and loveable <3

#thank you anon #you read my mind #headcanons #slytherin skittles #pandora rosier #pandora lovegood #pandora x xenophilius #xenodora #xenophilius lovegood #regulus black #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #rosier twins #the pantheon

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oraclekleo · 1 year

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[Pick-A-Pile]Messages for you from the cards

Hello and welcome to a short PAC of mine.

This time I’m not asking the cards about anything in particular. I allow them to deliver the kind of message they feel like you should know now.

If you struggle picking a pile, it might be that none of the messages are supposed to reach you at this moment. If you come back in a month, maybe you pick the pile instantly because then it’s gonna be the time for you to receive the message.

If in general you struggle picking piles, it might be that as well. Sometimes you are not supposed to pick one because the message is not meant for you. Keep that in mind.

Disclaimer:

All my tarot readings are for entertainment purposes only

This is a general timeless reading - take what resonates

May include mature, NSFW, 18+ or triggering content

Minors should not engage with my blog

Tarot is self-development tool (yes, even future spouse readings are self-development tools), it’s not a life manual

Whatever the cards say, you always have a freedom of choice

Never base important life decisions in solely tarot readings

Maintain moderate consumption of tarot readings, it’s like any other addiction, it becomes unhealthy when it’s too much

Masterlist: Pick-A-Pile (PAC) Masterlist

Let's Play: Tarot Games 🎲

Messages for You from the Cards

Pile 01

Cards: 2 of Cups, 10 of Swords, Ace of Coins (Tarot of Tales), 38. The Milk of the Mother Flows, 42. She is Moonlight-Shy (The Solitary Witch Oracle), Star Anise (The Herbal Tea Magic for the Modern Witch Oracle)

There’s an end of discussion leading to important decisions - it’s time to stop analysing and debating and it’s time to start working on your goals.

Relationships are nurturing and lovely, you are rewarded with the same amount of care you have put into them.

Follow your intuition but keep your eyes open - you might have a tendency to romanticise what’s actually not that good in the merciless light of reality.

Someone in your life might present themselves well but they are actually toxic for you. It’s time to show them the door.

Your manifestations are likely to come to fruition now. Whatever you have wished and manifested for will finally materialise in your world.

Meeting your soulmate or just someone very dear to you is suggested.

Now is the time to embrace your personal magick powers. The time of waiting is over, be the best version of yourself now. Devote to your craft.

Your energy is at its peak and flowing easily, your actions now will influence your future many years ahead.

It's a time of good fortune for you - you might want to play the lottery.

Pile 02

Cards: 10 of Wands, 10 of Cups, Ace of Wands (The Light Seer’s Tarot), Cheetah, Lion (The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Oracle), Purification (Sacred Destiny Oracle)

It’s time to de-clutter, purify, clean and cleanse, sort and make space for what’s about to come. New vibrant energy can’t enter your life when it’s clogged with old, stagnant and blocking energy. Clean yourself and space around you. Eat lightly and get rid of things you don’t love anymore.

Time of abundance is ahead of you, especially if you read this in the summer season. Abundance of what you desire will come to you like a summer storm - swiftly and showering down.

Don’t waste your energy and resources. Observe and be smart with your decisions. There are battles worth fighting but there are also those you should avoid. Learn to recognize them.

Your potential and energy are endless but you need a purpose and motivation to use them well. If you are lacking any of these, take a moment to think about your ‘why’.

Your creativity is radiating and burning, you might experience an increase when it comes to brilliant ideas now.

Everything is connected. Use your intellect and imagination to see how people and situations interact. You might feel an urge to start writing a story or poem.

Finally some happiness arrived at your home’s door. You might feel blessed in the circle of your close relatives or friends, maybe celebration is at hand.

If your project or relationship becomes a tedious and tiring one, don’t lose hope and keep going. You are just about to release the burdens and reach fruition of your labour.

It might be about time for you to do something for your community. In relation to the above, you might feel called to release some content for your social media followers, or you might want to donate your old clothes to charity, or maybe you simply bake a cake for your grandma for her birthday.

Pile 03

Cards: V The Hierophant, Knight of Swords, XI Justice (The Slavic Legends Tarot), L The Ram and Dahlia, XII The Lizard and Pitcher Plant (Woodland Wardens Oracle), Hazel (The Wisdom of Trees Oracle)

Set your mental and emotional boundaries, especially when dealing with people. Some dramas have nothing to do with you, don’t waste your energy on them.

If you feel stuck or stagnant, remember the lizard's ability to let go of their tails to escape from predators. Maybe it’s time for you to drop something in order to move forward.

You are determined and focused on your goals and if you maintain like that, you can achieve whatever you want. Be headstrong and gracious at the same time and no obstacle stands a chance against you.

It’s time to establish a little more balance in your life. Which aspects take most of your attention and which ones you neglect recently?

If you are dealing with people and their dramas, remain impartial and unbiased. If you lean to any side, it will only bring more chaos to the situation. Keep a cool head.

Make meticulous plans but don’t get stuck in the planning phase. Once you are done debating, take courage and execute what you have drafted.

Ride the storm - while others hide from challenges, you should see an opportunity to shine against adversity. You have that personal power and charm to lead masses in times of crises.

You might feel the need to study, examine and evaluate rules, norms, laws or customs. Maybe you follow some traditions despite them being a burden to you. Maybe some laws are outdated and only promote injustice. It’s time to take in a bigger picture and work on improvements.

Your older friends or relatives possess wisdom. Come together at this time and learn some crucial information or skills from them. Is inflation giving a hit to your budget? Your elders might know some frugal tricks to help you. Maybe your sensitive skin doesn’t benefit from creams you buy and your grandma has some time proofed home remedy for that. Seek for long-term wisdom instead of quick hecks.

Thank you for reading!

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