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@jasolei
This blog is moving!
Here! To be a sub-blog of Naerwyn's. (WTB Tumblr deck ala Tweetdeck style?)
☼ For my Nicandro, of course.
Fingertips trailing through Jasolei’s hair, Nicandro smiled softly to the sleeping priestess nestled against his chest. He leaned his head up, placing a kiss atop her soft ebon locks. Sighing contently, he lowered his head back down to the pillow as his eyes drew shut. “You help me to forget the man I was so I can focus on the man I want to be…”
When you get this, you have to say 5 nice things about yourself publicly, then send it to your top 10 favorite followers! (Here's a thing for Jasolei!)
1. She is incredibly talented with Shadow magic. She might perceive herself as dangerous or malicious because that's what society has taught her to think, but she never uses her abilities for her personal gain (except for perhaps thinning the population of wooden target dummies when she is particularly vexed.) She is also learning Shadow healing, albeit slowly.
2. She isn't pretentious or conceited whatsoever. While most elves with her heritage and/or talent might consider themselves of higher stature than others, Jasolei doesn't. She also doesn't consider non-magic users to be of less worth than magic users.
3. She is loyal to a fault. Despite people leaving/abandoning her repeatedly in her past, once someone gets past all the walls she's built around herself, they're in. (Until you leave her, and then you're done. She's good with holding grudges.)
4. She is an excellent equestrienne. Because of her father's affiliation with politics and the magistry, she spent considerable amounts of time in the company of the children of human nobles. Consequently, she began riding at quite a young age, and horses suited her far better than finicky, fickle Hawkstriders.
5. She is a wonderful singer, though Nicandro is the only one to have heard her sing.
At the height of the Midsummer festivities, the Sin’dorei gather to release lanterns by Stillwhisper pond. The lanterns are symbolic; not only honouring the flame of Midsummer, but also casting the hopes and dreams of the individual who releases the lantern aloft on the winds of fate.
Some Sin’dorei choose instead to release an emotional burden along with their lantern. They believe that the phoenix rises from the ashes, and so their troubles will be consumed by the cleansing flame and they will be blessed with good fortune for the year to come.
because I was asked:
Aeda is only 4’9”.
Bitch is small.
Hey, Jas is only like 5'4" at best. Deadly Good things come in small packages, yo.
I Am
What is temperance but an excuse for the weak not to act. Were I stronger, he would fear no witch hunt. Were I greater, he would fear no consequence. Were I perfect, so, too, would be his faith. But these are my fingertips dipped in the blackness; these are the ripples outward, the lives each crest turns upside-down no more than ashes collected in corners of minds. Weak minds. Weak hearts. What blood beats within them belongs to me.
They all belong to me.
I am the shadow cast by Light fleshed. I am what walks with the faithless, the downtrodden, the rich, sick and sad. I am fury’s fingers, sorrow’s spine, despair’s resplendent curtain. I am death’s mask. I am the shade in which forbidden fruit slowly ripens, succulent and sweet. I am memory’s keeper. I am what they run from, what they deny, what they despise, what they wish they could forget. I am the look in your eyes when you leave your son to die to save your wife. I am what makes you look back, I hold your eyes open, I fill your mouth with the way he writhes. I am the hitch of breath as the sword swings down on the neck you can still taste.
I am what the Light does not bring.
And for every shred of kindness he shows, every compassionate gesture and well-meant word, I will be there, equal and opposite, perfectly steady on the scale. Because what a hurry he is in to keep it quiet, keep it down, keep it safe and locked and sound as though it will save us, as though we have anything to fear.
But shadow is nothing if not patient.
So must I be.
Headcanon Meme Time!
⌆ a nervous tic or habit they do
⏀ describe their usual smile
⇅ do they look up or down while thinking?
❧ describe their usual sleeping position
✑ describe something they like without naming it
✜ what’s their posture like in a normal situation?
❖ describe their hands
❞ write a quote they would find themselves saying
§ how would their hair gray? or would they lose their hair first?
❤ describe how they show affection.
✭ what is one of their favorite items?
"I want to..."
Part of Nicandro was glad to be back in Silvermoon. While he was never one to stick around in any one place for too long, the hunter took comfort in any location where he could be with Jasolei. No longer did the wanderlust claw at his subconscious. Instead he found solace at his priestess’s side.
Gently flickering candles illuminated the walls of their room at the inn, bathing the bedroom in a soft orange glow. Nicandro sat up in the bed, his back resting against the headboard with Jasolei pressed against his side. His arm draped around her shoulders, fingertips idly tracing up and down her arm. A content sigh parted his lips as he leaned down to press a kiss to Jasolei’s black hair. The two remained in silence a moment, Nicandro focusing on the sound of Jasolei’s gentle breaths and the feeling of her heart beating against his skin. Their embrace was innocent, the simple need of closeness drawing the pair together. In that moment, there was no other place that Nicandro wished to be.
The hunter’s mind fell to a single thought: the future. Fighting along Jasolei’s side during the Siege, the time they shared in Kun-Lai, and even now as they lounged around Silvermoon with no plans on where to go next, Nicandro knew that there was one thing he wanted as a constant in his life…
He wanted her. He wanted his beautiful Jasolei.
After dropping another kiss to her soft, black locks, Nicandro whispered against the top of her head. “Not today. Not tomorrow, but someday… Someday I want to marry you, Jasolei.”
The air was heavy with the scent of sandalwood and jasmine from the copious amounts of incense burning downstairs, making Jasolei drowsy. Only the gentle caresses of Nicandro’s fingertips across her arm and the gentle lilting of harp music from elsewhere in the inn kept her just this side of unconsciousness.
Nicandro’s gentle kisses drew a faint smile onto her pierced lips, and she stirred enough to snuggle tighter against him and drape one arm lazily across his waist.
The embrace was not to last, however, and her dark eyes slowly drew open at Nicandro’s murmured words. For a moment she didn’t breathe. She had never, ever considered being married to anyone. But… If she didn’t marry Nicandro, there was probably only one alternative. For that was the ultimate reality of a real relationship, wasn’t it? Marriage, or separation.
A flurry of thoughts and emotions whirled through her mind in just that short minute, and she turned to rest her chin on his chest. She knew she wouldn’t want to be without him. Even if she wasn’t ready now, she would be – and like he said - someday wasn’t today, or tomorrow. Her heart fluttered against her ribs, hastening the redness that came to her cheeks and ears in the dim light. Finally the priestess smiled softly.
“You never fail to find a way to surprise me and take my breath away, my prince.” The hand that rested by his waist travelled upwards to cup his cheek, thumb running lightly across the rough stubble.
“Someday, I want that, too. To be your princess.”
“For darkness restores what light cannot repair.”
Joseph Brodsky (via journalofanobody)
nevermore.
Edgar Allan Poe.
Is Jasolei a cutie or what? Remember that it's only a yes or no answer!
Yes!
The 'yes or no' game.
You can ask me anything and I’ll answer honestly, but only with yes and no.
Masquerade by Lovell-Art
Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing.
August Wilson (via quotes-shape-us)