Thank you so much for the tag @wasteful-sam 💜 You can find their post here.
As usual, I'm behind and late to these tag games but I do enjoy them a lot. So please continue to tag me. Even if I don't get to them for months myself, I get to see yours 😊💜
I love music so much! I listen to songs and instrumental a lot including when I write or dance or just to relax. I'm always looking for new songs too. I'm poly-musical and love a wide variety of music. So, I'm going to do this for Aurora and Rosa.
Playlist is here for both Aurora and Rosa
A:wakening - Aviators
U:nlimited Power - Twisted Game Songs
R:ight Through You - Alanis Morissette
O:ne Step Closer - Linkin Park
R:ise From The Fire - Trailermind, Epic Music World
A:nother One Bites The Dust - Queen
VP by @alwaysmauria
R:ivers Run Red - Ganyos, Bolshiee
O:cean eyes - Billie Eilish
S:even Devils - Florence + The Machine
A:nvil and Hammer - Twisted Game Songs
If you are interested in the one I made for my blog name, you can find it here.
Thank you so much for the tag @wasteful-sam 💜 You can find their post here.
As usual, I'm behind and late to these tag games but I do enjoy them a lot. So please continue to tag me. Even if I don't get to them for months myself, I get to see yours 😊💜
I love music so much! I listen to songs and instrumental a lot including when I write or dance or just to relax. I'm always looking for new songs too. I'm poly-musical and love a wide variety of music. So, I'm going to do this for Aurora and Rosa.
Playlist is here for both Aurora and Rosa
A:wakening - Aviators
U:nlimited Power - Twisted Game Songs
R:ight Through You - Alanis Morissette
O:ne Step Closer - Linkin Park
R:ise From The Fire - Trailermind, Epic Music World
A:nother One Bites The Dust - Queen
VP by @alwaysmauria
R:ivers Run Red - Ganyos, Bolshiee
O:cean eyes - Billie Eilish
S:even Devils - Florence + The Machine
A:nvil and Hammer - Twisted Game Songs
If you are interested in the one I made for my blog name, you can find it here.
inspired by @missfortunetherogue
tagging a few baddies with OCs I think would be fun for this
@alwaysmauria @honeybummer @shandoratheexplorer
You can find her in my longfic, Threadbare
Keep in mind while reading that Nora has a very heavy West Virginian accent.
Non-Romanced Greetings
Negative (<0):
"This better be damn important."
"You should be worried. I'm a shoot-first kind of girl."
"Well, well, look who the cat dragged in."
"Bless your heart, you actually think someone cares."
Neutral (0 - 19)
"I suppose I can be arsed to listen."
“I did take responsibility for this circus, didn't I?"
"This better be important. Or Funny.."
"Alright. Whose gonna blow up this time?"
Medium (20+)
"What's on your mind, darlin'?"
"Ain't you a sight for sore eyes."
"Pop a squat and dish already."
When spoken to by someone other than the player character:
"Oh, you sweet thing. I am not in your price range."
"Sorry, darling, but I ain't got time for other people's business."
Romance
Flirting
Smacks their ass and runs away, giggling.
Answers fuck you with "Only if you ask nicely. Or disrespectfully."
"So........ wanna desecrate a temple?"
"You keep on being so sweet, I'm gonna get the diabetus."
Partnered (Act 2)
"If I had to be here, I'm glad it's with you."
Pulls them closer by their waistband firmly with one hand, grabs their chin with the other. "No more talking tonight, love."
"Come on, lie down and tell me all about it. I'll scratch your head."
Partnered (Act 3)
"How did I get so lucky as to find you?"
"You make me feel like I might be worthy of loving."
"Curl up in my arms and tell me all about it."
“Is this a get drunk and cry or fuck until we pass out kind of problem?"
Broken up
"How's finding less treating you?"
"You're lucky I haven't shot you yet. But there's still time."
“Don't take hints well, do you?"
“Ugh. You again."
Astarion Origin - Non-romanced Exclusives
"So, you can hear, like, everything? Oh my god, where do I even start? Does Shadowheart snore?"
"I will tell you one vampire story, but only if you don't scream like a little bitch about how wrong all the details are."
...
"Jesus Christ, my dude. You can bitch about one detail. Alright? One per story."
"Look, I get it, it's soooo tragic being a vampire. Fuck you, man, you get to live forever, and you don't have to poop. That's already like 50% better than most mortal lives."
"As a matter of fact, I think your stories are hilarious. Some people in this party are just pussies."
"OK. I'll explain it one more time. But this time, take notes. It all started when an idiotic teenager decided to assassinate a Duke in Austria."
"Look, all I said to Halsin was that I think it's beyond dumb to fry bacon naked. I did not tell him he had to wear clothes."
"Go ahead, Ascend. It's not like archdevils are known for tricking people into horrible, unfixable situations by offering them exactly the things they are most desperate for."
Astarion Origin Romance Exclusives
Selecting "I want to talk about us."
"... Really? I mean. Yes. Please. I like the sound of that. Us."
Selecting “What are we to each other?”
Act 2
"Well, ah, ain't that the rub?"
"You give me, well, hope. And I ain't had that in a long, long time."
"Something rather precious, given the, well, everything."
Act 3
"The most improbable, ridiculous thing in all of existence: love."
"Something worth living for."
"A home to return to, a place to weather our storms, and a safe place to fall apart."
Selecting “Maybe we should end this before it gets too complicated.”
Laughter. "Oh honey, that dog done barked already."
Picking “I’m afraid to get hurt.”
"Bless your heart. Getting hurt's inevitable. The question ain't how to avoid hurt, it's how to make it count. You are worth it to me. The question you gotta ask yourself is if I am worth it to you."
Picking “You deserve better than me.”
"Yes. Probably. But I ain't never had sensible taste. Don't insult me by making my choices for me."
Picking "I’m afraid to hurt you."
"See, that sounds noble, but it's a crock of shit. It's you making my decisions for me. 'Cause I happen to think that you're worth the risk."
Picking “This was a mistake.”
“No. This was a choice. If you've made a different one, tell me. But don't pretend you didn't want me before now."
Picking “I don’t love you anymore.”
"You know, I'd hoped you had enough respect for me to tell me the truth. But whatever. I'm too much, I know. So go find less."
Picking "I love you."
"Damn you. Because now I have to say it, too, and we can't pretend this is something else anymore. I love you like a goddamned fool."
I'm currently working on the next chapter of A Song of Dawn and Silver.
Theme Song:
For someone who is a public hero of Baldur's Gate, Rolim is terribly hard to get a hold of. But I suppose the city being as big as it is makes it harder for me to find him.
Asking around, I'm told he could be at any one of his three—why is it three?!—workplaces, or, of course, at home.
Since I don't want to disturb him at home, I swing by the bard school and the little leather workshop first, before making my way to the monastery.
It's relatively new, I'm told, with construction finishing only about a year ago, and it's there that I finally get lucky.
"Oh, yes!" the monk sweeping the entrance hall answers my inquiry. "Dawnmaster Nevioro-Shyr is in the library, I believe he needed a moment of peace after this morning's wave of patients," he nods. "It's right through here," he gestures toward one of the tall doors on the left.
"Thank you," I smile, pulling the strap of my snapsack tighter and marching toward the door. But… just shy of touching the handle, I pause, feeling a shiver run up my spine.
I'm… nervous? But why?
It's not like I know this guy, but still, it feels infinitely more monumental since his was the last voice to tell me I needed to stop drinking before I truly tried, and finally managed. He was the last piece of a puzzle long in the making, so to speak. And he's this big hero, this holy man who works his ass off to help people. I've honestly heard nothing but good things about him while I asked around.
Everyone smiled at the mere mention of his name.
My spiraling thoughts don't help with making this next step either. I know I'm only here to thank and apologize to him, but I feel truly very insignificant compared to him.
"Yes, right on through there," the monk's voice snaps me out, and I briefly flash him a smile, then draw a deep breath and push the door open.
So the month of May was pretty busy, chaotic, and a mess with a side of loss. I put my four legged baby boy down on the 19th so I really appreciated the tags I had in my activity log a lot even if I couldn't respond until now to them <3 Upside aside from a few boxes, the majority of things have been unpacked and I am settling into my new place with my gran.
I have been very busy in the last week or so with writing as well with my brain running amok in Ellipsus though soon I'll be editing some pre drafted chapters soon and releasing them <3
Without further ado though here's a sneak peek at what's to come and some of the WIP bits I've been working on including an AU sort of what if fic where the main character ends up in a bit of a mess. Fair warning there is minor spoilers here so will put it under a keep reading line <3
Sneak peek from Chapter 4 of Dream On or How to Get Your Heartstrings Punk'd titled "No One Like You"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Karlach sighed as she headed to the headquarters, hoping a bit of work would maybe get her mind off Astarion. However after a few hours, Karlach ended up dipping out with an apology to Jaheira before wandering around Baldur's Gate and ending up in a park with a pond full of ducks.
A large hulking Elf sat under a tree with a pair of glasses, a deep forest green sweater vest with a button up that was cream, dark brown khakis, and boots that looked more one with nature than boot. The Elf himself had deep brown hair tied back into a ponytail and his eyes were hazel green in a beautiful heterochromic way.
The book in his hand had a worn look like it spent a lot of time being read with the title being A Study of Ornithology: Ducks Native to the Sword Coast in faded gold filigree, the book cover itself being a deeper shade of green than the sweater vest. Nearby a bag that looked as worn as the book if not more so rested with a large oak leaf adorned in worn embroidery and a circle of knotwork around it.
Morren's eyes fluttered, before he slumped fully, making me swear. I didn't have much left, but started drawing on my magic, pain ripping through my hand near immediately.
What are you doing child?
I gritted my teeth. I had a debt of life to pay, I wasn't going to return owing anyone. I was a cleric of Shar, we owed no one, especially a Selunite.
"Find healing potions. I'm nearly spent." I spoke tensely, before I focused my magics over Morren. Astarion and Wyll ran off to hunt as Karlach kept an eye out around us. I put the last out and Astarion and Wyll came hustling back in with a large Elven male and a few bottles.
"Here." Astarion spoke quickly, before I carefully shifted Morren to his back, the Elven male coming over and helping support him enough to allow me to get the potions down his throat. I snapped and yanked the arrows out that Morren had taken as his breathing stabilized.
I walked through the city silently, the cool spring air with a small nip to it as my mind replayed the conversation I had had with Aylin a tenday ago.
"I still think reaching out to Mystra won't do any good. You know what she did to Gale," Aylin remarked,
"I know Aylin, but if my siblings and Syllar know about Eladrin, then there's no assurance that Gale doesn't. I can no longer stand idly by while the world potentially burns outside," I spoke softly,
"And what if this backfires? What if Mystra doesn't answer? After all you hold the Weave yet you do not worship her," Aylin asked,
"Then I'll find another solution, as I have before time and again and will continue to do so Aylin," I replied, Aylin falling silent.
Third and final WIP from the yet to be posted to AO3 fic titled "Worlds Intertwined" where the main character ends up in a bit of a pickle of the AU variety after something happens and they end up in an entirely different place that isn't Faerûn. The historical research for this has been absolutely killing my brain LOL
"Easy laddie. You want to throw up there's a spot over there." a man spoke gruffly, before pointing. I took a deep breath as I looked around, seeing the chaos and ruined landscape around me.
"Private! Over here!" another voice called, before I turned to see a lieutenant with a red cross on his uniform waving. I walked over and he put his hand on my chest.
"You want to die today private?" the lieutenant asked,
"Uh no sir." I replied,
"Then get your helmet on private!" the lieutenant snapped, before I tugged it off my belt and donned it as the lieutenant started walking off. I quickly followed him as others caught up, reaching a trench that reeked of…everything, shaking my head and continuing on. We reached another man this one a captain.
"Name?" the captain asked,
"Private Tavin sir." I replied, before he looked down his list.
"You'll be in the advanced dressing station on the central sector near Pozières, supporting the forces there." the captain instructed, before pointing. I nodded before walking off, pausing when I heard loud noises, jumping when something exploded hard.
"Easy lad. Just the Germans saying good morning." a thick accent remarked, before I turned to see a man with a black circle patch with 4th and the mark for an artillery unit. I swallowed hard as I nodded.
"Right." I spoke softly, before he beckoned.
"Come on. I'll show you to the ADS." the man spoke quietly, before I nodded and followed. We reached a place that smelled even worse than the prior trench, noting some bunkers and reinforced areas. The man pointed at another captain with a patch noting he was a doctor.
Thank you @shandoratheexplorer @the-font-bandit @optimisticgrey and @alrendriablaze for the tags, loved your sneak peeks and WIP bits.
Gentle tags back to @shandoratheexplorer @the-font-bandit @optimisticgrey and @alrendriablaze and gentle new tags for @tynithia @tavyliasin @strixamans @goodgirlgonebard and @verbenaa
Story Summary: Rosa is a Moon Elf Fighter. She has been learning the art of being a Fighter throughout Faerûn since leaving her home in Silverymoon at the age of 70 and implementing that knowledge on her adventures. Dammon is a Tiefling Blacksmith. He has newly returned to The Prime Material Plane from his captivity in Avernus and was forced to leave his home of Elturel. They find affection and comfort in each other's company, forming a lasting bond. Though, more trials await as they must survive their current struggles as Faerûn is in danger. Rosa is wanting to solve her situation and help keep those she cares about safe. Her quests and adventuring has turned towards more survival of those around her too, ever wanting to keep others from suffering. All while adjusting to having her left arm torn from her while protecting the Tieflings from Gnolls so they could make it safely to The Grove. She struggles with changes in her life and Toril around her. Dammon wants to help keep Rosa safe, in the only means he knows how, he will forge anything possible for her and keeps himself busy while she is saving Faerûn. He knows she is capable but he can't help worrying about the one mortal he holds dearly to his heart. After everything he has been through lately, he hopes luck is still on his side. Love can be forged even in the darkest of times.
Chapter 3 Summary: Rosa prepares to leave for Moonrise Towers. Throughout the day she is bombarded with Rolan's accusations and anger about not having left yet. Before heading back to camp to rest, she decides to have a private conversation with Rolan about her past.
Chapter Word Count: 5,356
Chapter includes BG3 characters: Rolan, Astarion, Gale, Alfira and Lae'zel.
CW/TW: Please read the tags on A03 with every chapter posting. update the tags with each chapter added.
I'm so sorry it's taken me a year to post the next chapter. I hope to concentrate on the Hammers and Swords series more this year. Thank you for understanding and sticking with me for more Dammon and Rosa adventures.
Please follow this link to Chapter 3 on my A03.
Chapter 1 is here
Special thanks to my friend Zaxares for reading my draft and helping with editing! I don't have a social media account I can point you towards. Though, I'm very appreciative of their help and interest in my stories. ❤️🔥
Also, a huge thank you to @alwaysmauria for VPs of Dammon and Rosa! ❤️🔥
Tagging because of interest: @wasteful-sam @cursed-nyxan @alwaysmauria @nw39 @shandoratheexplorer @dramatiquechipmunk (If you would like to be added or removed, please let me know.)
Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate everyone who is interested in my fics, especially Dammon and Rosa. 🥺❤️🔥🩷
Thank you everyone who support my fics, and take the time to reblog, comment and kudos! It means the world of Toril to me. 🥺💜
Snippet from the beginning of Chapter 3 below the Keep Reading cut.
After leaving Dammon's room, Rosa spends the majority of the rest of the day making sure everything is in order for when they travel to Moonrise. She checks on the Harpers to see if they need any help with mending Last Light Inn from the attack. She doesn't want to leave them unprotected while they are gone.
She walks to the outskirts of the Moon Maiden's protection to gather supplies with Astarion and Lae'zel. As deadly as the road will be and Moonrise swarming with evil, she is going to need them to be overly stocked on items.
Astarion asks as he watches Rosa trying to detect any items around them, "Sooooo, how is the blacksmith faring?"
She says softly, "He is ok. Banged up a great deal but he will be ok with some rest."
He says with a grin, "I'm sure you can mend him up well enough. Why are you out here salvaging for supplies and not tending to him?"
She turns to him and raises an eyebrow, "Not sure how it is any of your concern."
He chuckles and says playfully, "I'm only wanting to make sure our leader is in good spirits and all." He coughs.
She says turning back to the ground in front of her, "I'm ok."
He says plainly with a hint of sadness, "Love, that doesn't sound too convincing."
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Do not worry. I'm clear headed. Well, clear enough with a tadpole swimming around in it." She kicks a branch in front of her out of the way with her black leather boot.
He smiles and says, "Ok, if you say so." He stands in front of her and asks, "So, about these tadpoles. I think we should use them more often. The ones we find. They seem to be powerful."
Rosa stops abruptly, shifts her gaze to him and says, "It's not a great idea to use them. Who knows what permanent damage they could do to our brains?"
Astarion clenched his fists and says, "But think of all that power. We could learn to harness it and use it. To keep us all safe." He whispers, "Me included."
Rosa knows all her companions on this journey have some kind of troubled past, herself included. She can only imagine what Astarion has faced in his many years, but she has a small inclination from the conversations they have had. She says, "Power doesn't always solve everything. It can make everything worse."
He says with a huff, "Well, you're no fun."
She takes a step closer to him and asks, "You want to control others, like you were controlled?"
He stammers, caught off guard by the comparison, "No. I…I just don't want for us…for the others to have to struggle so much with keeping ourselves alive." He takes a moment before continuing as he crosses his arms, "Frankly I'm tired of sneaking around and making sure everyone lives." He starts to walk away.
Rosa asks softly, "Now who isn't convincing, Star?"
Astarion stops quickly at the nickname, it always throws him off. He knows she doesn't harbor feelings for him but he can tell she genuinely cares about his well-being, and he doesn't know what to do with that. He says, "Fine, just more tadpoles for me." He scoffs and walks in a different direction as he searches for anything.
Lae'zel suddenly appears from a nearby abandoned house, "What are you two chitchatting about? We need to find supplies or at least something we can trade for better supplies." She shifts a bag of items she is holding to her shoulder.
Rosa smiles as she gestures towards Lae'zel's bag, "Looks like you found enough for all of us ."
She says plainly, "I could have found more if you two would stop yapping like dogs."
Rosa leans closer to Lae'zel, smiles and says, "Thank you for the reminder. We need to stay on task."
Lae'zel coughs, "Yes, right."
Astarion yells, "Over here. I found something. It's buried."
Rosa pulls out a shovel and starts digging.
He says, "I would help but I don't want to get my nails dirty."
Rosa chuckles, "But, your white hair covered in blood is ok?!"
He grins and teases, "Of course, it's blood. What about being a vampire don't you understand, darling?"
Rosa grins to herself. She finally digs up a chest. "Of course it's locked." She looks at Astarion and asks with a teasing tone, "Would you oh mighty elven rogue vampire use your talented skills to unlock this chest of unknown treasure, please?"
He chuckles and says, "Well, if you need help, of course. Besides there might be something I want to keep."
Rosa steps away from the chest and watches Astarion carefully pick the lock. Once he has it open he steps aside. Rosa peers inside. She finds some arrows, coins, potions and an interesting magical necklace. She hands Astarion the arrows and a few coins, "For your talented help. Thank you!" She always makes a point to let him know he is a valued part of the team, more than a pretty face.
He raises an eyebrow and takes the items. "Yes, right. Well it's always good to know my talents are appreciated."
She knows that is close to an "thank you" she will get from him. From their conversations, she can tell he is dealing with a lot of trauma and uncertainty too.
She stands up and says, "Let's get back to Last Light Inn. Best to make sure they have everything they need too. Plus I think Lae'zel has found enough supplies for the whole camp."
Lae'zel says as she shifts her weight, "I'm just more diligent than most."
Astarion asks, "You are not scared of a few shadows are you? I for one am used to them. Feels familiar."
Rosa say, "No. I'm sure we can handle ourselves. Though, we don't want to be overwhelmed either, especially with all this loot on us. We will have plenty of chances to search the shadows later." She she glances at the ground as she remembers the promise she made to Dammon, along with an unsaid understanding of trying to be more cautious and safe. I don't want him needlessly worrying about me. I should only take chances when it is necessary. I know he has confidence in me, it's only normal for him to be concerned. I'm concerned leaving him here while I'm gone. Maybe someone at camp would be willing to stay behind to help Last Light Inn just in case.
Thank you so much for tagging me @verbenaa, @inkymoonbunny, @bloodjune and @shandoratheexplorer! Loved reading your WIPs! 💖
I'm done with exams🎉 and broke up with my bf😭 . So... your know. Last week was eventful. On the bright side, I definitely have more time to write fic now! Making progress on 'Feeling Darling' (Astarion x Female Reader smutty Part 2 of 'Fangs and Cheeks'), so here's a little snippet!
“Gith, I do not usually repeat myself. Although perhaps I should make an exception for a creature from another plane," Minthara’s voice cut through the air, icy and unyielding. "I am going to bed the wizard tonight. It is an honour. And he is most eager and willing.”
“I am also not in the habit of repeating myself," Lae’zel shot back. "But as you are clearly hard of hearing, know this! I wish to have him, and I do not share. Find another to warm your bedroll.”
You blinked owlishly, frozen in the doorway as you watched the two of them bicker. Your gaze slowly drifted over to Gale. You weren’t entirely sure when or how he had managed to become the central object of desire for two of the most dangerous women in Faerûn. Honestly, it didn't look like Gale had the answer either.
No pressure tags 💖: @khywren, @anacdoce, @vividiana, @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @obsessedwhyyes @busy-baker, @clazberryk, @xxnashiraxx @larvatuss, @meeshrox, @funniestbitchinfaerun @dramatiquechipmunk @irondeficienttav, @pursuitseternal, @deadly-diminuendo, @loserscardigan and anyone who feels like sharing! 💖
Surely, it was a jape.
That was the only possible explanation for why Anth— Astarion was leading a pretty young woman by the hand through the gardens.
Byron watched from the bedroom window, seething with a jealousy more fierce than he'd ever known, as smiles as easy and warm as a summer breeze passed between the pair. He gasped when his love, his love, who'd declared his own passions so fervently the day before, suddenly knelt before the woman with flaming hair, plucking a daffodil and passing it to her like a most precious gift.
The sound of glass shattering startled the poet, and he looked down, realizing he'd dropped his water glass in shock.
He turned, trying to soothe himself. Of course, Ancunin would still be courting, still looking for a wife. It was a requirement. A duty. It was patently absurd to believe for a moment that the fervency of their affections would be able to stop the tidal weight of social obligation that was marriage.
Nonetheless, George decided right then that he would make him pay for having to watch this mockery of the words they'd spoken in their passion.
He summoned Viktor with a bell, a plan fully laid out in his mind. The Prussian frowned when he'd worn naught but a waist-coat over a summer's shirt of fine muslin, even foregoing a cravat. The frown deepened when he'd directed the man to affix the collar to his neck.
Without the finishing neck-piece, the collar was clearly visible for what it was, nestled in the high but open collar of the shirt, the diamond star at the front drawing in every eye, impossible to miss.
As Byron stood in the doorway, debating between whether to ride out into the gardens or catch the two of them in the grand hall, Viktor cleared his throat.
"You may speak."
Viktor took a slow breath. "I mean no disrespect, my Lord, but I worry you may be acting with a certain youthful, well, imprudent passion."
Byron narrowed his eyes at the imposing man. "And by what rights would it be your job to determine this?"
The taller man looked down. "My Master, he's…" The man took another low breath, seeming to draw courage. "He would be quite distressed were something to happen to you, as his affections have grown quite deep."
"And why would you believe something might happen to me, Viktor?"
The man looked him straight in the eyes with his piercing blue stare. "My Master is a dangerous, volatile, viciously jealous man."
It should have felt offensive, the implication that somehow Byron would be unable to defend himself. Part of him bristled, rose up, and angrily demanded that he put this upstart in his place. But the sincerity in the man's bright eyes was hard to overlook.
"Perchance," George began, toying with the collar. "Could you tell me who the young woman is?"
"Yes," the word sounded like the man's voice was run through gravel. "Her name is Kotryna Grigolaitė. She arrived this morning from Königsberg."
"Isn't that your port of call, goodman?"
Viktor nodded, jaw still tight. "Kotryna is my daughter. She came without notice, and expressly against my wishes."
Tagging a few people, tag yourself if you'd like!
@missfortunetherogue @shandoratheexplorer @alwaysmauria @jettherooster @nyx-knox @nw39 @thecosyblue @spacethatsinbetween @scrapsovereign @davenswitcher @glitzgremlin
"But it's not simple, Vincent," he says. "Trust me, I've given this a lot of thought, and I think, over time, resentment would build up. You'd be very unhappy with our arrangement, and that's the last thing I want for you."
"I'd be unhappy if you left me, too!" I counter.
"But only for a short amount of time, you'll mourn us, as will I, but eventually, you'll move on, as you should, and you'll find the love you truly deserve," Ildran answers. "With someone who shares your beliefs on this most critical of levels."
"But—" I try.
"Vincent," he replies. "I am not that someone. I've never wanted a relationship with just myself and one other person; I've always wanted to love freely and be loved freely."
He looks down at his hands, kneading the blanket between restless fingers.
"I know I am your first serious relationship," he begins anew. "Which is why I wanted to give this a try, after all, you didn't yet know whether or not you would be okay with it. But, after careful consideration, I can see that you're not."
Thank you, @rubyeyebabybat and @alrendriablaze, for tagging me!
I can't really share the last line I wrote because it's a huge spoiler, so I'll just drop you guys the fanfic itself. The first chapter is up and has only 2745 words
Have fun!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Now onto the teaser for Broken Mirror's next chapter!
"Gods, I'm so tired," I whisper. "It is her right to punish me so. I have failed, and I deserve this."
"Do you, though?" The whispered words sound like they come from far, far away, and oddly enough, they sound just like Rolim.
"Leave me alone," I answer as blood trickles down from the corner of my mouth. I draw another wheezing breath, trying to gather enough magic to heal the damage so I may yet live another day.
I reach for the magic I share with my Dark Lady, but the pool is empty.
I feel so cold…
This is the end, isn't it?
"Shadowheart," Rolim's voice again. "Stay with me."
"I don't need you, and you don't need me," I answer the phantom. "So why won't you stop pestering me?"
"Because you're my friend."
I manage a weak snicker; the cold feeling from before gives way to a gentle warmth.
"Who knew that death could feel so nice?" I mutter weakly.
"Now now, don't be dramatic," Rolim's voice sounds in my ears again. "You're not dead yet."
"I'm hallucinating," I answer. "Clearly, this is it."
But then—
I wonder—
Why would I dream of him when I lay dying?
Gentle tags to @nw39 @optimisticgrey @lottavilja @vakariansyndrome @denesmera @roguishcat @chaushaus
tagged by @unovafarm @thepalelawyer @shandoratheexplorer @perpetualmaladaptivedaydream @archduchessgortash , thank youuuuu!
If I missed your tag, ping me, please. It was a busy week and I love to read your stuff!
accompanied by this incredible shot by @deianestormborn. Thank you so much, darling! You are also tagged! 🫶
Gentle warning for severe injuries, bloodloss and fever dreams
They all needed tending to. Truthfully, we all did.
Lae'zel's arm had been broken badly enough that even she struggled to conceal the pain. Karlach had borne the worst of the fighting as usual, her body battered and bruised to an extent that frightened me more than I cared to admit. Gale looked as though he had not slept in days, thankfully he had only suffered superficial injuries. Wyll was lightly wounded and stubborn as ever. Shadowheart exhausted. Halsin wore the particular expression healers often do when they are running on determination alone.
To this day, I am not entirely certain how we survived.
I remember looking around our miserable little makeshift camp and feeling a strange, detached gratitude simply because everyone was still breathing.
It felt miraculous enough.
So I told them to care for themselves first.
I was injured, certainly, but not as badly as the others. At least, that was what I claimed.
Whether anyone believed me is another matter entirely.
Shadowheart and Halsin worked together to do what they could. Wyll and Gale fetched water, tore cloth into bandages, emptied the last of our dwindling potion supply, and assisted wherever extra hands were needed. Between them they managed to stabilize Lae'zel and Karlach and patched wounds well enough that we would survive the night.
At the time, survival until morning felt like a sufficiently ambitious goal.
When they put me down by the fire, I practically collapsed onto my bedroll with a sigh.
After all those months on the road, it no longer smelled like strangers. This realization remains oddly vivid in my memory.
There had been a time when every blanket, every bartered tent, every bedroll had carried traces of other people—sweat, smoke, damp earth, old leather and unfamiliar dreams, fears and hopes. Yet somewhere along the way this old bedroll had become mine. The blanket smelled faintly of woodsmoke and soap.
Small things. The sort of things one notices when they are exhausted enough to mistake them for treasures.
The fire crackled softly nearby.
Lae'zel, Karlach, and Gale had been settled farther away behind hastily erected tent flaps to afford them a measure of privacy. Under other circumstances I might have accepted the same arrangement.
Instead, I insisted on remaining beside the fire.
I wanted the warmth. Or perhaps I simply wanted the company.
Looking back, I am not sure which.
The fever had already begun settling into my bones.
I remember shivering so violently my teeth hurt while sweat soaked my clothes and blankets. Every inch of me seemed caught between extremes. Too hot. Too cold. Burning. Freezing.
The wounds in my leg throbbed relentlessly. Sleep came only in fragments. I drifted between consciousness and fever dreams, between reality and whatever strange places the mind wanders when the body is struggling to mend itself.
Most of it is blurred now. Sensations more than memories.
The weight of blankets.
The smell of smoke.
The distant murmur of hushed voices.
The crackle of burning wood.
And through all of it, Halsin.
I remember his voice before I remember seeing him. Deep and steady and impossibly calm.
He was speaking Elvish. I noticed that even through the haze of fever.
There was something different about the way he spoke the language when he thought nobody was truly listening. Softer somehow. Older. Like water moving over smooth stone. The cadence wrapped around me more than the words themselves, becoming something soothing and familiar even when I could not entirely follow what he was saying.
Perhaps he was speaking to me.
Perhaps he was praying.
I didn't ask. I only remember finding comfort in the sound.
Then his hand.
Gods.
Even now, after everything, that memory remains achingly clear.
Halsin's hands are enormous. Capable of splitting wood, shaping stone, shifting into claws large enough to tear through armor.
Yet I had never felt gentleness like his. A cool cloth brushed across my forehead. His fingers moved through damp strands of hair, carefully pushing them away from my face. The blankets shifted as he tucked them closer around my shoulders.
Every touch was deliberate, as though I were something precious.
As though he had all the time in the world.
I drifted in and out of sleep while he remained beside me.
Each time I surfaced from fever dreams, I found him there again.
Speaking softly.
Adjusting the blankets.
Replacing the cloth.
Checking my temperature.
Watching.
Waiting.
And though I could scarcely keep my eyes open, though pain and fever and exhaustion dragged me under again and again, I remember the certainty that settled somewhere deep within me.
I was safe.
Not because the danger had passed.
Not because my wounds were healing.
But because Halsin was there.
Show us what you are working on! @alstromeri-a (if you like) @bg3screenshotdump @litsenn @lllchiaroscurolll @lotus-ignis @saintsandsorcery @ele-millennial-weirdo @jbenn656 @zigloo @cinder-rellish181 @chaushaus @alliskit @alleiramagic @mellybaggins @lucretiouswept @dragonsbone @elceewunjo @arlynx and, as always, @lilhumanoid
Thank you, @rubyeyebabybat and @alrendriablaze, for tagging me!
I can't really share the last line I wrote because it's a huge spoiler, so I'll just drop you guys the fanfic itself. The first chapter is up and has only 2745 words
Have fun!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Now onto the teaser for Broken Mirror's next chapter!
"Gods, I'm so tired," I whisper. "It is her right to punish me so. I have failed, and I deserve this."
"Do you, though?" The whispered words sound like they come from far, far away, and oddly enough, they sound just like Rolim.
"Leave me alone," I answer as blood trickles down from the corner of my mouth. I draw another wheezing breath, trying to gather enough magic to heal the damage so I may yet live another day.
I reach for the magic I share with my Dark Lady, but the pool is empty.
I feel so cold…
This is the end, isn't it?
"Shadowheart," Rolim's voice again. "Stay with me."
"I don't need you, and you don't need me," I answer the phantom. "So why won't you stop pestering me?"
"Because you're my friend."
I manage a weak snicker; the cold feeling from before gives way to a gentle warmth.
"Who knew that death could feel so nice?" I mutter weakly.
"Now now, don't be dramatic," Rolim's voice sounds in my ears again. "You're not dead yet."
"I'm hallucinating," I answer. "Clearly, this is it."
But then—
I wonder—
Why would I dream of him when I lay dying?
Gentle tags to @nw39 @optimisticgrey @lottavilja @vakariansyndrome @denesmera @roguishcat @chaushaus
Thank you so much @graysparrowao3 for the tag! 🥺💜 Also, thank you everyone who has tagged me in a type of WIP tag. 💜 I know there are several and because of life I'm behind on many tags. I'm sorry 😞 I've been trying to find some I've been tagged on I might be able to do quickly. I really do enjoy them, thank you! 💜
I'm currently working on editing Chapter 3 of The Blacksmith and The Fighter. Hopefully I can post it before June, I'm trying. Though, I've shared so much of it so far in WIPs, I'm going to share instead from Fire, Ash and Metal Chapter 5 that I've started writing too.
Please see below the Keep Reading cut for the beginning of Chapter 5 of Fire, Ash and Metal. It's unedited and a first draft. There is nothing violent in the snippet below.
The sky is dark red and fire balls rain through over head. The smell of death, flames and metal permeates through the air. And, for miles all that can be heard as their hammers land on metal far from the eternal clashing battle is the song of the damned forced to work a devil forge run by an evil Titan.
Clank! Spark! Clank! Hiss!
Clank! Clank! Clank! Clank!
Clank! Spark! Clank! Hiss!
Clank! Clank! Clank! Clank!
Dammon finds a rhythm to keep with others and it almost sounds similar to music. He reminds himself of home, of Elturel and his life beforehand. He doesn't want to forget. He still holds out hope he will see it again. He doesn't know how. He has an overwhelming feeling, that he could make it. Though, he knows it could just be wishful thinking too.
His arms ache, every muscle in his body burns and screams in pain, but he doesn't stop. He has no doubt that as soon as he isn't useful to Carixim he would no longer exist. So, he would be the best, and he is. Though, Dammon knew that wasn't enough to survive.
Some of the other mortals at the forge seemed similar in convictions to him, and they held onto their mortals and beliefs. Others had be corrupted overtime like fruit withered and bruised. Those he had to be careful being around, especially those who hid it well.
Every moment he observed, keeping his eyes and ears open with discretion, even while hammering. As much information he has, the better he is able to keep himself alive. He knew he has to barter for information and keeping himself safe. It didn't escape him that others were jealous at his favoritism by Carixim. Every bit of food and water he was given he shared with others for information and safety, and he learned to live on enough to keep himself useful. He knew the others wouldn't outright try to hurt him in fear of Carixim's wrath but accidents are easy enough to happen and it might be worth the risk to some.
Carixim seemed to admire his cunning as a few glances Dammon received from him, along with deep chuckles when he was caught one day. Afterwards Carixim started giving him more food and water, not a lot just some, as if he knew what he was doing and wanted to make sure he succeeded in his tasks. Not for the betterment of the other mortals and devils, only for himself. He puzzled him as to why. He has no doubt that Carixim has his own agenda, that he wasn't being nice to him. He just couldn't figure him out. Dammon often wondered if Carixim saw him as a talented craftsman or a mere pet for his amusement.
Dammon tries to keep up appearances and when asked for favors, he would always ask for something in return. He understood quickly nothing was free in The Nine Hells and he would be not only taken advantage of but also treated badly if he didn't adhere to some of the unspoken rules. He couldn't be outright kind to others but he could do it in a roundabout way that it wasn't perceived in that way and benefited him too. Besides it wasn't much different than bartering with the merchants near the docks in Elturel.
He learned that Dorgan is a Barbazu, also known as a Bearded Devil, one of many that look very similar and often in combat or harvesting souls to the rightful devil who owns the poor souls. He learned many of the different devils names and there order. Promotion to the next higher devil was often a main goal of many. He learned what he could from the other mortals, what they knew from their years in Baator. He felt bad he couldn't do more for them, especially those who had been there for centuries.
From what Dammon gathered from their conversations, Carixim appeared in Avernus almost 800 years ago and rumored to have been banished for his actions that led to great evil and suffering. Though, no one knew what he exactly did or if it was even true. As far as everyone could tell, Carixim was still mortal but between being a Titan and living in Avernus, his life was greatly extended. Some whispered it was the reason for the absorption of souls. All agreed that time worked differently than on the Prime Material Plane, and it was hard to pinpoint how much time truly passed.
Dammon definitely has problems telling how much time had past since he was there. It seemed as if months had passed but he is certain it had only been a few weeks. Sleep didn't come often or regularly, and it made determining even harder. They slept in shifts when Carixim left the forge. That is when they did majority of their conversations too. No one could sleep long as their work couldn't get behind, and Carixim would notice when it didn't live up to his expectations.
Dammon would work extra hard to make sure his quality of work was the best. He seemed to have a natural talent for forming metal. He took note of what Carixim taught him and watched his skills. The metal seemed alive and willing to bend to Dammon's creative will. He had never experienced something so exhilarating before.
He started to become comfortable in his captivity and forget where he really was, in Avernus. He didn't think Carixim was going to have him go fetch metal from the battlefield. He must have proved his worth. He forgot that not everything is as simple or even makes sense in The Nine Hells.
