#echoes of plum grove
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I feel like some farming sims (rpg) are missing the generational aspect of their game. Its so untapped to have a kid raise them and have them contuine working on the farm. It what makes the sims so popular you can have an entire generation in one game.
Down side is I understand why they don't.
First off you couldn't have a big cast. An if you did you'd have make them very felixable. You could probably get away with have the first set have a story/detailed background.
Two, character couldnt be design too uniquely. You'd probably wanna do a randomizer for the npcs.
An lets say the kids do grow up and the parents die etc. Who are they gonna romance. Their would be so much shit that would have to go into it. An most farming sim game are made by an indie group not like a sims 4 team. Harvest moon has to be the birth father of raising your kids and you getting old and what you do matters.
I just wish more games did that. Its a niche no one is fufilling not even harvest moon anymore. I think the closes im seeing is the game Echoes of Plum grove
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Yeah so like I don't see the point of more settler colonial games??? https://www.pcgamer.com/super-cute-colony-farm-sim-echoes-of-the-plum-grove-is-inspired-as-much-by-oregon-trail-as-stardew-valley/
Like OK look at this description
Like how is this still OK to be romantizing settler colonizers in 2023???
mod ali
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Echos of the plum grove, they took the demo off for a while and brought it back. I played from my old demo file and when I ended the day I was on the demo ended. I was so near the end when I stoped playing the first time, you’ve got to be kidding me. I might as well just give them my bank account because I’m getting it on launch day.
#echos of the plum grove#life sim#historical games#it’s basically a hardcore survival farming game with the art of paper mario
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Games We're Looking Forward to in 2024
In no particular order.
Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney Trilogy
Echoes of the Plum Grove
Poglings
Tavern Talk
Little Kitty, Big City
Princess Peach: Showtime!
Death Trick: Double Blind
#video games#gaming#2024#nintendo#apollo justice#princess peach showtime#little kitty big city#tavern talk#echoes of the plum grove#poglings#death trick double blind
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Join Al and Micah as they talk about the newest Harvest Moon game.
#harvest moon#winds of anthos#disney dreamlight valley#roots of pacha#ooblets#everdream valley#slime rancher 2#echoes of the plum grove#snacko#my time at portia#my time at sandrock#concerned ape
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Dark Paradise (Part 3)
Pairing: Azriel x Fem! Reader
Summary: Never in the existence of Prythian had there been a rightful heir to two courts, much less a female, but there you are, in the flesh. With war upon the lands, and questionable family dynamics, a certain shadowsinger takes it upon himself to make your life just a little bit more interesting.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: violence
a/n: hey y'all so sorry for the month hiatus, uni has been CRAZY, anyways enjoy :)
To say Azriel was dumbfounded when he saw you, the women from his dreams, sitting on the throne instead of Helion, would be a severe understatement. He was absolutely enthralled by you, the way you spoke to Rhys with no care for his nobility, challenging him instead of falling head over heels. He lingered in the limited amount of shadows for the duration of your conversation, cursing Helion under his breath for covering the entirety of the chamber in a blinding sheen of sunlight. He watched you speak with such effortless grace, like you were made for the sole purpose of ruling.
His shadows had brought him a ring while he was observing you as he jumped between shaded corners, the ring gleamed in the sunlight as he rolled it between his fingers. He was going to toss it back to the corner where his shadows had unearthed it from, but the sound of shoes hitting marble drew his attention back to the task at hand.
You had sauntered down the stairs, the sunshine that pooled in through the windows lined behind you, had enveloped you in a blanket of light, silhouetting you in a ring of gold. Azriel had then and there decided that you were a goddess, one crafted by the most richest of golds.
He had enough, choosing no longer to hide in his shadows he winnowed to meet Rhys and you. You looked even more breathtaking up close, where he could see the groves and dips of your face, like a breath of fresh air. Azriel didn't know what came over him, it was like you had your hands around his very soul, forcing him to be drawn to you like a moth to a flame.
Rhys had noticed the starstruck shadowsinger, and teased him for it when they trailed behind y/n. "Your jaw is practically on the floor, pick it up before your tongue rolls out too." Rhys's voice had filled his mind, he shot him a scowl before choosing to ignore him, but he didn't stop there. "I wonder what names you'll choose for your children, Jaime, Carmilla, Jude, personally I love Dorian" he spoke, the shit-eating grin evident in Rhys's voice. Azriel slapped Rhys's chest so hard that he let out a pained grunt, smile still etched onto his lips. Rhys threw his a look saying 'you know I'm right.' Azriel tried ignoring the insinuation, but he couldn't deny that your outfit left little to his imagination.
He immediately blocked out the several scandalous thoughts that had spinned up in his mind before he would've been forced to excuse himself.
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The Night Court was beautiful, even more so at night. The lights that decorated the city below shone brightly, paired along with the distant playing of music. The river that ran through the city twinkled as the stars up above bounced off of the ripples, it was gorgeous. Placing your hands on the railing that held you back from falling over the edge, you drank in the scenery before you. It was peaceful and comforting for a moment, before a harsh gust of wind swept over you, sending plums of snowfall over you. A shiver ran through your body, piercing even through Azriel's jacket that you had snuggly wrapped around yourself.
"Come on, you'll freeze out here." Azriel's gruff voice echoing over the wind. One of your bags was around his shoulder, while you held the other one loosely in a hand, outstretching his free hand towards you he gestured you towards him. You frowned as you took in your surroundings fully, you were in an empty clearing, no house in sight. "Where's the house?" You asked, as you walked towards him absentmindedly, goosebumps rising on your exposed legs. "We're almost there." He slightly smirked before pressing a rough hand under your knees and behind your back, collecting you abruptly into his arms.
Letting out a shocked yelp you instinctively gripped onto the closest solid surface, which so happened to be his shoulders. "Wha-." Before you could even begin demanding to be let go, he shook his wings, freeing them from their tightened position, and shot into the sky. Throwing your arms around his neck you pressed closer into him, so hard you thought you might melt into his chest. A low chuckle came out him, his chest rumbling at your startled reaction. Loosening your grip on him you looked back at him with a frown, "You could've warned me you know." You yell over the howling wind as you soared through the sky. "You're right I could've," you watched as he tore his eyes away from whatever he was focusing on, and looked into your own, "but where's the fun in that?" He spoke lowly, chest rumbling with each word.
Suddenly becoming hyper-aware of how close your faces were, you pulled back, instead choosing to turn your head to whatever he was looking at earlier. A large, almost castle-like mansion came into view, presumably the House of Wind. The sound of Azriel's wings beating heavily as you approached the wide balcony, built awfully similarly to a runway. Safely he landed, gently letting you down onto your own feet, still shook from the sudden flight you stumbled a few feet as you gained balance. Azriel offered a hand to you, but you slapped it away, "All of you Illyrians are absolutely mad, I swear" you mumbled under your breath. Throwing his hands up in mock offense, the both of you walked into the awaiting house.
You nearly moaned at the warmth that engulfed you as you stepped through the doors, melting away the coldness that had seeped into your bones. A squeal sounded through the lounge room before nimble arms tackled you, sending you crashing into the black leather couch. Blonde wavey locks, and a bright red-lipped smile filled your view, as you laid, sprawled, on the couch.
"By the cauldron, I haven't seen you in so long! How've you been? What've been up to? Oh my gosh, any new boys on the roster?" Mor berated you with questions as she laid on top of you, that beautiful smile of hers never leaving her face for a second. You giggled as she shook your shoulders rapidly, trying to shake the answers out of you.
"Mor stop it, you're going to give me a headache." You laughed as you playfully fought with her, trying to nudge her off of you. "You guys know each other?" Mor's and your head turned to look at Azriel as he stood there, watching the both of you with furrowed brows, your bags in tow.
"Of course we know each other, who do you think keeps me sane during all of those horrid meetings." She rolled her eyes at the mention of meetings. You had heard of Mor through your brother, Eris, when he was betrothed to her. Becoming friends with her wasn't exactly the smoothest of transitions, not after what Eris did to her. You had first properly met her in Vallahan during one of your diplomatic meetings for the Day Court, but once she found out who you were, and who you were related to, she avoided you.
Eventually, meeting after meeting in different continents, and different courts, you dragged her to a private room and made sure you drove the point that you had no part in her marriage arrangement with Eris. Explaining how you had zero connections with the Autumn Court, and that you refuse to support their cruel activities. After that, you grew close, but no matter how many secrets and deep truths you whispered to one another, she never told you what really happened that dreadful night when she ran into Eris. At first it hurt, knowing she didn't trust you enough with her deepest secrets, but you learned to respect it, knowing that when she was ready she would tell you.
"Oops sorry." She sheepishly clambered off of you, noticing your pained face, body growing numb from the weight of her body completely on top of yours. Helping you stand up she lead you to your room, Azriel in tow, carrying your bags with ease.
Reaching your bedroom door, Mor kicked it open, showing you around your massive suite, touring you around each additional room inside. Azriel dropped your bags onto the floor and bid you goodbye, you thanked him, watching as his broad frame walked out of your room.
"So, anybody special in your life?" Mor wiggled her eyebrows from her spot on your bed, her head propped up on her elbows as she laid on her stomach, kicking her feet in anticipation. You groaned as you flopped onto your back beside her. "No, I haven't had time for that, you know that." You dramatically threw your hands into the air.
"Yeah yeah, you got your royal duties to take care of or whatever, blah blah blah." Mor mocked you, memorizing your usual approach to this topic. "It's true! I'm not as lucky as you, catching the eye of every male. And female." You smirked at her. She shoved you in response, before resuming her questioning.
"How was your trip up here?" She picked at her perfectly manicured nails, "That crazy Illyrian practically threw me into the air, I thought he was going to drop me." You waved your hands around.
"Azriel would never drop a gorgeous girl like you," you turned your head towards her, a smile on your face from her compliment, "besides if he did, he would've been scrapping a flattened y/n shaped puddle off of the ground by now. Helion would have his head for that." Your smile immediately dropped at the idea of you being peeled from a random sidewalk in the city, you're sure that would've traumatized at least a couple Velaris civilians.
"Well since you're not going to tell me ANYTHING, about boys and what not, I have a welcoming gift for you." Mor abruptly jumped off of the bed and scurred off into your closet, you swore you could hear her giggling and mumbling to herself as she rummaged through clothes. Just as you were about to ask her what she was manically searching for like a rabid animal, she sauntered out of the room, clothes in hand.
"Well what do you think?" You sat up to get a clearer view of the garments she beheld. In one hand she had an intricate black dress, it wasn't fully midnight black, no, it had gold streaks pouring down the bodice, in the shape of a corset of sorts. There weren't any straps, showing of the shoulders, the deep v-neck that reached nearly what would be your bellybutton, showed off cleavage, and extenuated the neck. The gentle swish of the draping skirt was gorgeous, ever so often catching glimmers of gold, as it shimmered in the light.
"Oh that's sexy." Words tumbled out of your mouth as you took in the elegantly crafted dress before you. "I had it personally made for you, so of course it had to be sexy." She set the dress aside, and quickly replaced her hand with another piece of clothing. This time it wasn't a dress, it was a maroon trench coat, long enough where it would reach halfway down your calves. Several golden button adorned the front of the coat, pairing nicely with the barely visible gold seeming that lined the cuffs.
"These are beautiful Mor, but I can't accept it." You sheepishly look at her, a wave of guilt washing over you at the realization that you hadn't gotten her anything in return. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at you, her kohl lined eyes entrancing you, making it difficult to break eye contact.
"I mean, I just didn't get you anything in return, and that's not what good friends do, if I had been given an earlier notice I would've certainly gotten you some grand shoes, or jewelry..." You laugh nervously under her stare as you twist your rings in aimless circles.
A giggle bursts from Mor, you stare at her shaking form, slightly confused, you nervously giggle along with her. A howling laugh rips from her throat as she points at you, your eyebrows furrow as you rush to a mirror, thinking that she's laughing at something on your face.
"Is there something on my face?" You palm at your face, as you search for what she's laughing at, maybe you had caught a stray leaf on your flight here.
"Yeah that stupid look," She wipes her eyes, catching any tears, grabbing your shoulders she pries you from the mirror to face her instead "Gods, Y/n you don't owe me anything in return, I wanted to give you this, as a present. Besides, I was going to give you this for Solstice anyways, but, you're here now. Consider this an early solstice, from me." She beams at you, you return a smile back.
"But, I wouldn't mind some fancy shoes here and there." Shoving her shoulder you mock roll your eyes as you move towards the vanity, needing to take a relaxing steaming bath. "Dinner's served in half an hour, if I don't see you by then, I'll drag you by your hair." You throw a vulgar gesture over your shoulder as you shut the door behind you.
You quickly got ready and arrived at the dinning room before Mor could even think of coming to 'escort' you. The dinner went smoothly, Rhys introduced you to the 'inner circle.' Cassian was the easiest to get along with, his overwhelmingly kindhearted personality nearly suffocating you, however, by how incredibly well-toned he was, it would be a mistake to assume he was always so friendly. Amren was the complete opposite of Cassian, extremely witty, quick with her words, and the way she looked at your jewelry with those silver, ancient eyes sent shivers down your spine. You swear up and down, that she even licked her lips when she thought you weren't paying attention.
As you continued your dinner, chatting about nonsense, you felt a pair of eyes on you, glancing across the table you landed on Azriel. He sat there, holding a glass of some sort of alcohol in his hand, maintaining eye contact he swirled his glass around, the liquid sloshing against the sides, before bringing it to his lips. You won't lie, in that moment, the way his tight-fitted black shirt had the top couple buttons undone, exposing his neck and chest ever so slightly, had you blushing and gripping onto your own champagne glass for dear life.
"I think I'm going to turn in for the night." You mock yawned, rubbing your eyes in faux tiredness, needing to leave the room before you could even begin to think of other things, more like think about him.
"It was a pleasure meeting you all." Bidding everybody a quick goodnight you slipped away, feeling a pair of eyes on the back of your head as you rounded the corner towards your room. A frigid coldness swept against your leg, but as you looked around for a possible open window, you were met with nothing but shadows. Cold, wispy darkness.
Looking back down the dimly lit hallways, the faint golden hues from the fae light illuminating your face, you met Azriels gaze. The rest of the table engaging in fervent conversation, but he stared at you. It felt as if time itself slowed down with the way he watched you. His eyes low, glossed over with the influence of alcohol, enhancing the copper flecks in them by tenfold. You tried to tear your eyes away from his burning gaze, but it was as if the universe itself held the two of you together, refusing to let up its iron grip.
Subtle pain spread down your hands, turning your palm upwards you finally managed to look at something else other than Azriel. Half-moon crescents were indented in your palms from where you dug your nails so deeply into them, causing ruby red blood to drip from the broken skin. Glancing back down the hall, expecting Azriel to be staring at you, but his eyes stared unyieldingly at your hands, something swirled in his eyes, something wild. Bringing your palm up to your mouth you sucked up the blood, making sure he watched as you licked up what remained. He propped his chin on a hand as he watched your ministrations, eagerly.
Your lip curled in a sly smile as you et your hand fall back to your side. Turning on your heel you pushed the door to your room open, the coolness of the door pressing against your burning back as you leaned against the door. Running a hand through your hair you undressed, getting ready for bed. Your mind playing what just happened in the hallway over and over again, without cease. As you laid in bed you kept remembering the way his eyes roved over you, and no matter how many times you denied it, you did enjoy it, a little too much.
The next morning you were abruptly awoken, not by the sunlight flooding in through the partially shut blinds, nor was it your palms, instead you felt a searing pain in ribcage. Kicking the sheets off of yourself haphazardly, you lifted your shirt just under your breast, exposing your stomach to the crisp morning air that filtered in through the room.
Nothing. No wound, at least not visibly. Gently you pressed down on your skin, pain bloomed. Maybe you had simply slept weird, or knocked your ribs against a corner last night in your rushing, but you couldn't recall anything of the sort.
Deciding to ignore the strange pain you got dressed, remembering Rhys mentioned last night something about a training room during dinner. Completing basic hygiene you threw on some training clothes and fashioned your hair into a simple braid. As you wandered the halls in circles for what felt like hours your ribcage increased in pain, of course bearable, but nonetheless annoying. As you ascended a long flight of stairs the pain persisted, almost getting more intense as you got closer to the top.
Finally you stepped into a large space, light flooding into the ring, reflecting off of the various weapons that lined the walls and racks. The wind swept over the expanse, refreshing as the sun beat down. In the middle two people sparred. standing in their glory Azriel and Cassian threw punches, swift and calculated. By the way they were huffing you were more than sure that they have been here before dawn. Noticing your presence the two of them slowed down, Cassian being the first to approach you, "You here to practice?" A large grin spread across his face, wiping his forehead free from sweat with the back of his hand. "No I'm here to sunbathe." You retort, twirling around to show off your 'bathing suit,' a deadpan expression gracing your features.
"I'm hurt Y/n, where was my invitation, you know I'd be more than happy to ditch this loser over here." He threw a thumb over his shoulder towards Azriel. "Yeah I'm sure you'd be more than happy to ditch the way I've been kicking your ass for the past hour." Azriel crossed his arms, extenuating his sweat sleeked biceps. "You know everybody hates liars Azriel." Cassian threw him a glare, Azriel rolled his eyes before walking over to grab a cub of water.
"Anyways, I need a sparring partner, you up for it?" You looked at Cassian awaiting. "Oh uh, my shoulder suddenly really hurts, I'm sure Azriel needs the extra practice." Cassian's eyebrows furrowed in obvious fake pain as he rolled his shoulder to 'work out a knot,' tucking strays pieces of hair that fell from his ponytail he gestured towards Azriel, who stood by the water station.
Gesturing towards the empty ring you watched as Azriel set down his glass and stalked his way to the open space. "Sure, don't worry Cassian I'm sure Rhys will kiss your boo boo better." Azriel teased Cassia, as you walked down the stairs towards the ring, you're more than sure that Cassian threw him a vulgar gesture by the way Azriel chuckled.
Rolling your neck you cracked your fingers, getting ready for some hand to hand combat. Azriel tossed you a knife, not sharp enough to cause serious damage, but dangerous enough. You couldn't help but notice the way the sunlight hit Azriel's bare chest just right as you worked out the last knot in your neck. His toned chest evident of the several years it took to perfect, the muscles chiseled, like he was sculpted from finest of marble. "You can always back out whenever, no shame in it." He spoke in a low voice as he took up a fighting stance rolling his own knife in is hand. "Same goes for you, I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of Cassian." Following in suit, you threw up your hands, getting ready to deliver the ass whopping of the century.
A faint smile flickered on his face before he lunged, throwing a flurry of punches. Blocking and dodging his attacks you jumped back, creating space in between the two of you. He fought with an intensity you haven't seen in years, each move calculated and aggressive, holding no punches back. If it were an average person they would quickly be knocked out by now, but you were no average person.
Quickly recovering from the slight set back you sent back your own attacks, sparks flying from where your blades met, throwing a mix in between slashes and swift punches. From the corner of your eye you spotted a forming bruise on his left rib, the exact same place you woke up to this morning. Just managing to dodge a swift slash from Azriel in the nick of time you side step Azriel and drove the hilt of your knife into his rib.
A low whistle resonated throughout the room from the wall where Cassian stood post, watching your duel. Stumbling a few steps back Azriel grunted, your own side reflecting the same throbbing pain you imposed on him.
He didn't even let you catch your breath before unleashing punches upon you, the strength behind them causing you to scramble to deflect them. Throwing a right hook, he landed square on your jaw, nearly sending you across the floor, blood ran down your chin from the newly inflicted wound on your lip. Wiping away the blood from your chin you grinned at him, the metallic taste of blood covering your teeth in a pink sheen. "Shit, I didn't mean-" Sucking you teeth clean from the blood you didn't even let him finish his apology before you lunged for him. Catching him with his guard down you kicked his legs out from under him, his back hitting the floor with a harsh slam, quickly you clambered onto him, sitting on his lap, legs tightly pressed against the outside of his thighs to keep him from moving. You pressed the knife to his throat, not hard enough to break skin but enough to ensure his defeat.
"Yield," you huffed out as you drew your face close to his. The back of Azriel's head hit the floor, causing the curls that weren't plastered to his forehead to spread out around him in a way that made him look like a literal angel, his onyx hair giving him an ethereal glow.
His eyes stared into your own, as he took in deep breathes, chest heaving under you. "I yield." His voice gruff as he rested his hands on your hips, holding you tightly, his gaze unwavering, a slight smirk on his lips as he licked his lips. "This is my favourite positions after all," He whispered, "Sorry?" Taken aback by his suggestive comment you leaned back from his face. "This is one of the best positions to render your opponent immobile, I mean. What did you think I meant?" He slyly spoke, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"Atta girl Y/n, you just won me some money." Cassian's boisterous voice boomed throughout the room, snapping you out of your trance. Both you and Azriel turned your heads towards where Cassian stood, rubbing his hands in anticipation as he proudly gave Rhys a shit-eating grin. Begrudgingly, Rhys dug in his pocket for money, throwing it at Cassian's chest with a scowl.
"You guys bet on us?" You asked baffled, "Yup, and Azriel just lost me so much money," Rhys's tone clearly reflecting his disappointment at his major loss. "I promise you, I'm taking that out of your salary Az." Rhys sent Aziel a pointed glare, Azriel simply shrugged, clearly not caring, you're sure it wouldn't even leave a dent in his finances.
"Anyways enough of these stupid activities-", Rhys approached the two of you, "You only think it's stupid because you lost," Cassian responded in a sing-song voice, "Shut up." Rhys quickly retorted back. Running a hand quickly over his jacket, plucking at invisible dust, he stood over you and Azriel on the floor. "What mission?" Azriel asked, confusion across his face, clearly not having been debrief about this mission earlier. "Autumn Court." Rhys crossed his arms, as he watched for your reaction.
You looked back down at the sprawled out Azriel under you, clear disgust in your face at the idea of going to the Autumn Court so soon into your stay at the Night Court. Feeling the same way, Azriel rolled his eyes before closing his eyes, letting out a long breath out.
"Fuck." Was all that needed to be said.
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tag list: @dr4g0ngirl @tothestarsandwhateverend namelesssav hnyclover
#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#fanfic#azriel x reader#rhys acotar#rhysand#cassian#cassian acotar#mor acotar
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Lamentable is the Autumn Picker Content with Plums - Chapter 6, "Bracing the Branches"
Pairing: Astarion/Halsin
Rating: Mature
Tags/warnings: NSFW. Spoilers to the beginning of act 2. Trauma/light SA discussion. A little angst.
Word count: 4.9k
~*REBLOGS VERY APPRECIATED*~ <3
Note: This is the sixth chapter of my first ever fanfiction!
I’ve also posted this on AO3.
Fic under the cut.
The party had chosen to transverse the Mountain Pass, at the insistence of Lae’zel of the promise of a creche hidden there. They had set off for the steep hills in the distance. After a day of travelling just to get to the creche, positioned in a former monastery, they had burst through its rotting doors the following morning before the sun had a chance to rise. To nearly everyone’s chagrin, the Gith inside were also early risers. More disappointment followed when the adventurers discovered the creche was not the Vlaakith-sent gift that Lae’zel had imagined, and the Gith “cure” was a painful death. To survive within the creche, the party had to paint its halls with blood, as hostile Gith met the group around each corner.
During each fight, Halsin had found himself fighting by Astarion’s side. As a sleek black panther, the druid had slunk to ambush foes, paired with the stealthy rogue. Together they’d downed scores of Vlaakith’s faithful with claw and dagger, amidst a symphony of slicing blades and startled shouts. A Gith quartermaster met her end when, just before she had reached Astarion, she was struck down with a mighty swipe from Halsin’s gigantic bear claws. Astarion had gently wiped blood from the cave bear’s muzzle and offered him a scratch behind the ears, after he had padded over to ensure his battle partner was unwounded.
Although the adventurers fought well together, confusion was inevitable when fighting as a group. A mix of shouts, spells, and slashing weapons sent the ruined monastery into chaos. Echoes of “Ignis!” and the clatter of weapons created a deafening ruckus that echoed off the stone walls and shattered stained-glass windows.
But within the dilapidated hallways, Astarion and Halsin created their own microcosm, a symbiotic team of shadow and strength, of slashing daggers and sheer brute force, of poisoned arrows and healing spells. It made the battles a little less daunting. And most importantly for Astarion, a lot more fun.
He delighted in the bloodshed of turning his opponents inside-out. The adrenaline rush during and after combat sent electricity through every nerve ending, and Astarion felt as close to a god as an immortal creature could become. It was even more of a delight when he attacked with his fangs to satisfy his bloodlust temporarily.
Once the adventurers had cleared the Gith forces from the monastery, the sun hung far in the west; it was late evening. After dragging a few bodies out of a large chamber, it made sense to use the ruins as their campground for the night.
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Though the ancient monastery’s mighty walls sprawled across the cliff sides, centuries of neglect had left the building crumbling. Nature had waited patiently for an opportunity to return, and she had done so with vigor. Trees, shrubs, and thick tangles of vines created a lush, wild grove within the walls. At Halsin’s request, their chosen campsite opened to a courtyard which teemed with life.
Halsin tucked himself away in the courtyard for a pre-supper respite. His companions were a grand old oak and the birds that sang from its boughs. He reclined against its weather-worn bark, his long legs splayed in front of him. In the druid’s hands tumbled what remained of a broken branch; he’d found it lying beneath the tree. He worked it deftly with a whittling knife. At least an hour passed in pensive quiet - Halsin had amassed small piles of wood shavings at his sides.
The sharp hiss of an arrow streaming overhead broke the silence, followed by a dull thud as it met its mark. The arrow had dug into the bark mere centimeters above Halsin’s head.
His lips turned downward, but not in anger or disappointment. The archer’s aim was objectively impressive. His frown was from the surprise of a scrap of paper tickling his nose. Dangling in his face, tied to the arrow with twine, was a small piece of parchment. Halsin raised a hand to steady it against the breeze. In precise cursive script the color of spilled blood, the note read:
“Room for one more, or are you brooding enough for us both? - ★”
Halsin’s smile spread across his scarred face, and his shoulders shook with a laugh. He plucked the arrow from the bark and rolled its shaft in his fingers.
“I would be happy for you to join me, Astarion,” Halsin announced; it was no shout, as there was no need for his deep voice to carry far. He was positive the vampire was quite close, cloaked in shadow.
Astarion seemed to materialize from the darkness about ten meters away. His perch was the east side of a half-crumbled parapet. His ivory hair seemed ablaze in fire from the orange of the sunset. His pearly smirk sparkled even from a distance and deep red eyes flashed as he sauntered to the druid.
“I appreciate the invitation, my dear,” Astarion drawled, casually kicking away wood shavings at Halsin’s side. “Old habits tend to die hard, you know.”
Halsin helped the vampire brush away debris before patting the ground at his side. Astarion lowered himself to sit, making a show of dusting off his breeches when a twig stuck to them.
“So, what are you up to all by your lonesome?” the pale elf asked, his hand gesturing at the wood shavings. Astarion tilted his head back to peer at Halsin through half-lidded eyes. “I’d jest and say ‘sawing logs’, but snoring is no laughing matter when one’s tent is near Gale,” he finished with a hiss.
Halsin presented his creation: an intricately carved wooden duck, small enough to fit in a person’s palm. “I use fallen branches for whittling things like ornaments, utensils… and ducks,” he explained with a shy grin. “I like ducks.”
“Not a bear?!” Astarion asked with a faux, incredulous gasp, his mouth curved in a fanged smile, “Ducks? You never shared with me your inclination for waterfowl.”
Halsin’s eyes were drawn to the smaller elf’s elegant nose; it was endearing to see it crinkle when he smiled. “Well, personal hobbies haven’t been a discussion topic,” Halsin replied apologetically. “With the tadpole issue, you and your friends have had more pressing matters to discuss.” The druid’s heart fluttered when the vampire’s wry grin pulled further at his handsome laugh lines. “Whittling is something I do to pass time. Conveniently, wherever I roam, there tends to be an abundance of wood.” Halsin regretted his words as soon as he saw the devious flash in Astarion’s ruby-red eyes.
“Darling, I’m quite sure that you could never run out of wood, based on what I felt the other night”, Astarion purred, sliding his delicate hand onto Halsin’s thigh. The druid hissed as he nearly cut his thumb with the whittling knife. One thick auburn eyebrow arched at the smaller elf.
“That is.. an apt observation,” Halsin admitted, a flush rising to his cheeks. The large elf pulled one last knife stroke along the wood grain to form the smooth curve of a wing. “I cannot deny my desires. Once you get to my age, you realize there’s little point in denying yourself what you crave… as long as it does not hurt others,” he finished with a smile, holding the wooden duck over Astarion’s lap.
A gift.
The deviousness in Astarion’s eyes melted to delight, his silver-white lashes fluttering as he studied the carved creature. The vampire cupped the duck in his palm with care; as if he expected it would turn to dust if he moved too quickly.
“But what of revenge then, dear Halsin? Surely once or twice you’ve wanted to mete out revenge to those who harm your precious ducklings?” Astarion teased. He finally moved his hand, bobbing the duck up and down in the air, like its live counterparts did on water. The large elf’s heart felt as though it would leap from his throat at the sound of Astarion’s giggle.
“That is fair enough. Perhaps I should rephrase it. ‘You shouldn’t deny your desires, if it hurts no one. Or, if those hurt deserve justice.’ Does that work for you, little duck?” Halsin replied, gently bumping his broad shoulder into the smaller elf’s arm.
Astarion’s porcelain cheeks flushed pink. “Well well, aren’t you quite the hedonist. I thought of you as a ‘let things go’ sort of druid.” He turned his face from the duck to the druid. “But anyway.. thank you. For the gift.”
Halsin’s eyes twinkled as he met Astarion’s gaze. “Thank me by returning the favor, why don’t you?” he asked, “Come on, I’m sure you’ve got something more interesting to share about yourself than a whittling hobby.”
Astarion arched a single white brow. “If you insist. I… may have a bit of a sweet tooth?” he finished with a sing-song lilt.
A deep rumble emanated from Halsin’s throat and grew into a chuckle. “Is that so? Would you seek to drizzle honey on a neck, before indulging?” the druid asked, winking at Astarion.
“Ah, I.. I would not say no to an occasional treat,” the vampire replied. “But your blood was sweet enough on its own, no honey needed,” he said, leaning his torso into Halsin’s barrel chest.
The druid’s pulse roared, changing from a flutter to a drumbeat. He was sure that Astarion could hear it. “I will remember that for the future,” Halsin said with a chuckle. “Out of curiosity, Astarion… does the flavor of blood truly vary by person? Even in wild shape with heightened senses, it all smells of copper to me.”
Halsin felt a tenseness rise in the vampire’s form, which still leaned against his larger body. Astarion released a sigh and his muscles seemed to relax; but only a little.
“I’ve had this condition for two centuries… but truth be told?” Astarion turned his head to Halsin, his gaze half-shielded through his long snowy eyelashes. “You.. were my first.”
“You jest,” Halsin replied, his jaw slack in disbelief. The druid, whose cool-headedness allowed him to not jolt when Astarion’s arrow had struck above his head, could not hide his shock.
“About this topic, Halsin? I would never,” Astarion assured, his eyes wide and earnest. “You were the first person from which I’ve ever actually fed. Sure I’ve gotten a few bites in, but no actual sustenance. In all these years, I’ve only fed on beasts.”
Halsin shook his head in surprise, flyaway strands of his long hair tickling Astarion’s ears.
Astarion nodded, white curls bobbing against the growing dusk. As darkness settled upon them, he seemed made of white marble; true Nature-sculpted beauty. “I was expressly forbidden to feed on thinking beings,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. His arms lay limp in his lap. “Boars, deer… kobolds. During the worst of it… I was served only putrid rats. A cruel jape from my master,” the vampire’s voice trailed off. It seemed as though the energy had been drained; even his hands fell open around the small wooden duck.
Halsin had no words that could ease such a painful memory. He placed a hand on Astarion’s leg; his fingers, when splayed, nearly covered the smaller man’s thigh. He gave a gentle squeeze as they sat, birdsong rolling from the tree above them.
The purple darkness of night finally set after a while, only illuminated by a bright bit of flame shooting into the sky over a crumbling wall. Gale’s cantrip ignis served as a proverbial dinner bell.
“Ah, dinner is served,” Halsin noted with a nod. “And speaking of nourishment… you are welcome to feed again tonight, Astarion.” The large elf paused, waiting for the vampire’s million-realm stare to pull away from the whittled duck to meet his own eyes. “Also… I want to thank you. Your camp is a most welcome solace, one I couldn’t do without. I look forward to your company this evening.”
***********
Supper had been splendid as Gale, ever the people-pleaser and an excellent cook, had prepared specialized meals for his friends. A hearty vegetarian stew for Halsin. For the others, he had added meat from a rabbit Astarion had snared in a trap. And for the vampire himself, Gale had prepared black pudding from provisions he’d found in the Gith creche. Astarion had devoured it with delight and had thanked Gale with a pat on the wizard’s back and a genuine smile. Over the past few days, the vampire had grown more at ease in, figuratively and literally, reaching out to his fellow adventurers.
His friends, as Halsin had insisted on calling them.
Astarion had realized, as he reclined in front of his tent atop plundered creche pillows, they truly were friends. They had risked life and limb (and soul, in Wyll’s case) to protect each other. To work together on the tadpole problem. Everyone also had agreed to help Astarion exact revenge on Cazador, for which Karlach was especially excited. The pale elf felt no need to mask the smile that formed on his lips as he thought of his friends… and especially of the Arch Druid Halsin.
The rest of the party had socialized enough for the evening and had retired to their tents. Though the blood sausage had been delectable, it was time for Astarion’s main course.
The slender elf strode over to Halsin’s tent. Confidence set his mouth in a smirk. Halsin has been won over, Astarion thought, but this is my opportunity to ensure he stays that way. The vampire was certain that he had Halsin’s allegiance; the druid himself had said so, and proved time and again he was trustworthy. He had shown kindness which Astarion assumed stemmed from attraction. It was mutual attraction, if he cared to admit it; but he pushed that thought down to the pit of his stomach. Attraction meant vulnerability.
It was far easier to be an object of desire, than to entertain his own desires.
Halsin’s tent flap hung open, and again the druid was reclined while reading a book, holding it above his head. There were no logs to lean against this time; instead, the larger elf was propped up by delicately embroidered linens and plush pillows. Astarion had insisted that the druid had “roughed it” enough, and that he deserved to treat himself to the luxuries they’d found in the creche.
“Ah, good evening Astarion,” Halsin said, his smile extending to his honey-hazel eyes, “So glad you could join me for dinner.” The druid chuckled at his own jest and patted the bedroll. Astarion returned his smile and kneeled on a pillow by the druid’s chest.
“It is my pleasure,” the vampire replied, his voice a low purr, one hand settling on Halsin’s well-muscled chest. He absentmindedly tugged at the loose strings danging from the druid’s tunic. “Ready whenever you are, darling.”
Halsin nodded once and laid the book aside. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, Astarion,” he said, with less nervousness in his voice than there had been in the last feeding. He raised his large hand to the small of Astarion’s back and placed his other on the vampire’s shoulder. His steadiness helped support the smaller elf as he assumed his feeding position.
Astarion took no further prompting; the druid seemed tantalizingly eager. It would make his task all the more simple. And more pleasant. The vampire accepted the unspoken aid from Halsin and climbed atop the druid. It was easier to feed if he straddled the large elf, as opposed to stretching across his wide body.
As Astarion lowered his mouth onto the red-ochre tattoo on Halsin’s neck, the friction of his leather trousers against Halsin’s stomach sent a rush of tingles to his groin. Hells below, he thought, flattening his tongue against the Arch Druid’s neck before a whine could escape from him. Astarion was certain that Halsin could feel his growing erection. Once, then twice his cock pulsed with eagerness; immediately after, the druid’s hand pressed more firmly on the small of the pale elf’s back.
This time, it didn’t bother him; the physical manifestation of lust meant it was easier for him to fulfill, and remain the object of, Halsin’s desires.
A rumble vibrated the druid’s throat against Astarion’s open mouth; Halsin relished in the cool wetness of the vampire’s tongue tracing along his jugular. The pale elf nibbled Halsin’s neck with his dull front teeth. Time for a tease, he thought, and pressed his hardened length into Halsin’s stomach. With the pressure, he felt a firm thickness between Halsin’s legs. The druid was already hard, and Astarion hadn’t even bitten him yet. Perfect.
But the teasing was enough, and his hunger gnawed at his stomach. The vampire opened his mouth wider and pierced his top fangs into Halsin’s neck. As he sank his fangs deeper into flesh, Halsin gripped Astarion’s buttocks with his large hands. The druid rutted his hips against the vampire with a deep moan, lifting them both off the bedroll with his lust.
Hot blood poured onto Astarion’s tongue as he lifted his fangs to suckle greedily at the druid’s neck. His soft tongue lapped at the divine offering, which coaxed a deep groan from Halsin’s lips. Astarion’s hands moved with swiftness; with intention. His slender fingers found Halsin’s nipple through the linen tunic and his mass of curly chest hair, and pinched it gently. Halsin hissed in response, his wide fingertips digging into Astarion’s hips. The vampire smiled against Halsin’s neck as he swallowed one mouthful of druidic lifeblood, then two.
Halsin’s chest rumbled fiercely against Astarion. The smaller elf took it as a sign to stop feeding; he lapped up the remaining blood that dribbled down Halsin’s neck, onto his collarbone.
Dinner was done; now for his duty.
Astarion’s mind was clear, rushing with the ecstasy of fresh blood. But for this second task, it was a habit to clear his mind completely. The vampire let himself mentally float away as he kissed along Halsin’s collarbone, then his throat. His movements were smooth, automatic; a deft hand lowered from the druid’s nipple to his stomach and teased under Halsin’s shirt, running through thick body hair. The large elf’s torso nearly raised from the pillows.
“You enjoy our feedings, don’t you, my dear?” the vampire whispered, his voice an octave lower than normal. “You naughty thing…” his voice trailed off as he lifted his torso from Halsin’s. Although his eyes looked directly into Halsin’s, he stared past the druid. The large elf’s face was a blur, out of focus, but Astarion could tell Halsin’s head tilted to the side.
“A-Astarion,” huffed Halsin, breath hitching in his throat. He kept his hands pressed firmly against the smaller elf’s waist.
“Isn’t this what you want, darling?” the vampire started, slipping his long fingers downward to settle on Halsin’s groin, hot to the touch even through the druid’s breeches. Halsin’s hips pressed into Astarion’s hand instinctively. The vampire drug his palm along the druid’s impressive girth, then rutted his own erection against Halsin’s arousal through his leather trousers. Halsin hissed through clenched teeth at the sensation, but sat stock still in his reclined pose.
It didn’t make sense. The druid’s hands should have been exploring Astarion’s body. Not to worry - they will, Astarion thought. He leaned his front against Halsin’s chest, again creating friction between them. “We could have a quiet evening for once, my dear,” he crooned. “Haven’t you waited long enough for what you want?”
The druid’s body did not respond as it should have. It was inexplicably tense.
**********
As soon as Astarion had finished feeding, his body language had shifted. His gaze had seemed to be a million realms away. His voice had even lowered to that of a stranger’s; it was deeper, with a predatory edge to its vocal fry.
The transformation shook Halsin’s confidence and his chest was heavy with concern. He couldn’t hold back his inner beast’s response to Astarion’s expert ministrations; but he had domination over his mind and his conscience. He did not return the vampire’s heavy petting. He needed an answer, first. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly to tame the beast; his focused breathing soothed the beast, and he felt himself grow soft.
“Astarion, tell me plainly. I need your truth,” Halsin demanded, tipping the vampire’s chin upwards with the tips of his calloused fingers, “What is it that you want? From me? From this?”
Astarion blinked once, then twice. His snowy eyebrows lost their wrinkled furrow, the crease in the skin between them disappearing as they raised. The small elf’s eyes went round and softened; wetness formed in the inside corners of his eyes until his silver-white lashes blinked it away. No cutting words formed on his tongue; no well-worn blithe phrases fell from his pink lips.
Halsin raised one large hand to Astarion’s face, pulling his thumb across the pale elf’s pouted mouth and marble cheekbone. He nestled his fingers into the nest of snowy curls at the back of Astarion’s head and gently ran his fingernails on the vampire’s scalp. He felt the goosebumps rise on the smaller man’s arms and neck as he carded his fingers through Astarion’s hair.
The druid did not repeat himself; Astarion had heard him. Nature has her own timeline, her own natural cycle in which life is born, dies, decays, and is born anew.
Halsin was in no rush; he would never pick from the plum tree in when it was tart and unripe in late spring, nor be surprised when the harvest was mealy and bird-pecked in late autumn. He knew it was best to wait for the natural cycle of things, were it in-season fruits, or the words of someone who did not know what to say.
He existed for this moment, with this beautiful man who haunted his dreams and clouded his mind. Astarion lowered his head to rest his cheek on Halsin’s broad chest, his blood-stained lower lip leaving a smear of scarlet on Halsin’s tunic. The druid pulled his hand from Astarion’s hair and lowered it to his delicate neck, using the pad of his thumb and rough fingertips to massage the vampire’s neck muscles gently. He felt a strained muscle and hummed the verbal part of a healing spell; his fingertips glittered a hazy green before the glow rolled from his hand onto Astarion’s neck, where it seemed to sink into his ivory skin.
Astarion broke the silence a few moments later. “I.. I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice muffled between Halsin’s chest and his own shoulders, “I had nothing at all for so long. Not my free will. Not even my body.” Halsin felt Astarion’s face scrunch into a scowl against his chest. “That was owned by Cazador; to tempt fools into his palace. I laid on my back for breadcrumbs a thousand times or more. Half of them I barely remember,” Astarion choked back the threat of tears he spoke. “Most of them never even bothered to grant me temporary bliss.”
The druid’s chest felt like it was being crushed by an owlbear. It wasn’t Astarion trying to seduce me. It was his past.
“Astarion. I am so sorry,”, whispered the large elf, wrapping his arms tighter around Astarion, accidentally pulling a small grunt from the vampire’s lungs. He released the pressure, but held the pale elf still. “You have survived so much. And you did not deserve any of it. You are so much more than what that bastard forced upon you,” Halsin assured with a low growl in his throat as he thought of Cazador. The druid inhaled deeply and his chest rose, lifting Astarion along with it. The vampire’s body slowly descended as Halsin exhaled. The large elf tilted his chin to place his lips on Astarion’s forehead, nuzzling his nose into the soft white curls.
******
Astarion let himself melt into Halsin’s embrace, and let his jaw relax. The druid’s large arms were heavy but not overbearing; the weight was a soothing balm to his frazzled nerves. For the first time in 200 years, he felt seen. He felt safe enough with Halsin to share the raw wounds of his past that had yet to heal.
“Thank you,” the vampire finally replied, his tongue thick and dry in his mouth. His voice had cracked when he spoke. He appreciated that Halsin did not acknowledge the lapse of composure.
“You are most welcome, dear heart,” Halsin replied softly, before releasing his hold on the slender elf. He raised his torso, bracing Astarion’s body as he swapped to a cross-legged sit. Astarion’s rear slipped into the gap between Halsin’s knees, nestling comfortably in the open space; the vampire’s toes dangled a few inches above the tent floor. Halsin adjusted his arm to support Astarion’s back while his free hand grasped Astarion’s long fingers.
“But I want to make something abundantly clear to you,” Halsin said, his deep voice soft and slow. Astarion’s brows shot up, and Halsin felt the man’s muscles tense. The druid gently squeezed Astarion’s torso.
“It is okay to not know what you want, Astarion,” he stated, his honey-hazel gaze meeting the pale elf’s round eyes. “What is not acceptable… is to make assumptions as to what I desire from you. You are no thrall. All of your choices… are yours to make.”
*****
For one of the very few times in his long life, Astarion had nothing clever prepared as a reply. He seethed as he felt his skin flush with the fresh blood when Halsin held his fingers. How is such a large man so gentle?
How he loathed that he could not hide the rosiness in his cheeks. But how he adored the druid for not mentioning it; for not poking fun. For the larger elf’s kindness and patience. For his willingness to see Astarion as more than a plaything, with which he could rut and then leave to rot.
“Halsin…” Astarion started, unable to resist pressing his cheek against the druid’s face. “I.. I appreciate you. More than you know.” He pulled his head back to look into Halsin’s eyes directly. They were as warm as the evening sun; as comforting as a crackling bonfire.
“I needed protection. People don’t trust vampires, perhaps understandably,” Astarion admitted with a nod of his head and flick of his hand, “so I needed someone to get on my side. Seduction has always been easy. It’s all I’ve known for centuries. But now...” His voice trailed off as his gaze drifted realms away.
Halsin waited patiently, dragging his fingers along Astarion’s long leg. His movements seemed aimless, with no intent on seduction. Astarion felt that the druid’s touch was an anchor for him. It tethered his mind to reality and the present moment. For once, he did not drown in a tumultuous sea of past memories. Astarion finally exhaled, his cool breath tickling the hairs on Halsin’s arm.
“I…don’t think I want you to think of me in terms of sex,” he admitted, meeting Halsin’s gaze again with his snowy brows knit upward. The corners of the vampire’s eyes became wet again; as chilled red wine in a glass, covered in dewdrops of condensation. “I don’t know if I want anyone to.” He turned his gaze down, pretending to study his nails.
His body shuddered as he choked back a sob, disguising it as a cough. Astarion knew Halsin likely saw through his ruse; he didn’t care either way. He could not look the druid in the eye. Halsin’s hand stopped its crawl and raised to Astarion’s chin, tenderly pulling his face to meet the druid’s. The larger man’s other arm curled tighter around the vampire’s back.
“Come now dear heart, do you truly see me as so fickle?” Halsin asked, his voice low and thick with hurt. “A river does not suddenly breach its banks to change course. Nor would a bear decide to be sated only with grass,” Halsin said with a chuckle. “Revolutionary upheaval is not the way of nature. Nor is it my way.”
The large druid placed his scarred forehead to Astarion’s pearly brow. Astarion couldn’t hold back the small smile that tugged at the edges of his own lips.
“I have lived a long time, Astarion. I have grown to understand my own desires. I will admit that you tempt me to ruin,” Halsin continued with a wink, rubbing his nose to Astarion’s, “and I would love to partake in your body, and share mine with you. But, that will only happen when, or if, you wholeheartedly want to do so.”
Astarion’s mouth fell open, but no words formed on his tongue, which had grown too heavy and thick to speak. All the vampire could manage was a nod, before tucking his face under Halsin’s chin. The tips of his pointed ears burned with heat as the druid’s thick arms held snugly against his waist.
Astarion felt as though his dead heart had begun to beat once more.
#bg3#astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3 astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#baldur's gate iii#halstarion#baldurs gate 3#astarion x halsin#halsin x astarion#halsin/astarion#astarion/halsin#astarion romance#halsin romance#astarion fanfic#halsin fanfic#halsin fanfiction#astarion fanfiction#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fanfic
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((I might get to actual writing later but I've been playing this new indie game called Echoes of the Plum Grove lately. Anyone else play it or have at least heard of it?
Anywho, some kind of disease swept through my town recently and it killed off a chunk of the populace. This is one of many funerals that followed. I screenshotted this because two of the villagers had this smug look on their face and only one person looked sad. I was just wondering "what kind of life did this guy lead??"
The game's cute even with all of the death tho!))
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Me: *playing Echoes of the Plum Grove*
*finds a death cap mushroom*
Game: press shift to use!
Me: ok!
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I remember complaining about having to pay taxes while trying the demo of Echoes of the Plum Grove.
Well, you can turn taxes off!
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Get to Know Me Tag! Round twooooo
as always thanks for the tag @changingplumbob i am very bored tonight so this was an answer to a call for help against boredom.
Here are my cats. You’re welcome.
Last Song: I’ve had Ariana Grande’s latest album on literal repeat. A masterpiece album.
Favorite Color: Always pink. But also reds and purples.
Currently Watching: Occasionally watching Call The Midwife. But mostly watching Stardew streams bc update.
Sweet/Savory/Spicy: In general I like all. Today in particular, sweet.
Relationship Status: Happy to report from last tag I am still married (said w wittiness) but yeah, happily married to the funniest man I know.
Current Obsession: My sims always. My cats always. ACOTAR series, I just finished the last book and don’t know what to do with myself. OH, *remembers afterwards* I played a demo of a game called Echoes Of The Plum Grove, literally cannot stop thinking about it.
Last Thing You Googled: “How to see my Tumblr poll results” lololol. Apparently not until it’s over, and wow does that make my ADHD go wild. I must see what the people are sayinnggggg.
I’m usually too shy to tag people, so take this as your sign to do this yourself! I tag you. You reading this. (If you want)
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Can I ask for Fae Kaeya for the monster ask if its not too late pls? With Kaeya as the monster if you don't mind~💙🧊
ohh anon fae kaeya!!! how awful and beautiful he'd be!!
Fae!Kaeya
cw: alcohol consumption
***
The night roars to life with revelry and debauchery. Flames lick high into the dark sky, reaching for the stars. Drums thud and echo around your chest— dark, old music that reverberates around inside you.
You have been careful to avoid food and drink for the evening.
You know to eat or drink from the hand of a fae is nothing short of a death sentence for a mortal like you—whether you have worked with their magic or not. You know of nothing that could undo the curse of the fae. You have no talismans to protect you from it. Only your own wit against theirs, only your own intuition and will.
They do make it tempting.
Long, glorious tables in candlelight, out in the grove of autumn trees, overflowing with the best food you'd ever seen in your entire life. Fruits gleaming and perfectly ripe, bursting with color and juice. Bread still steaming when torn open. Meat that smells rich or sweet or spiced. Your mouth waters at the sight, at the smell of all of it.
You are careful not to look too long at it. You can feel it's unearthly pull. You can feel your stomach cramp with hunger, even if you'd eaten right before you came.
"Hungry?" Purrs a voice to your right. You turn. You'd know it anywhere. He's been haunting your dreams.
"Kaeya," you say in greeting, guarded, and careful. You take a step away from him.
The worst fae to you by far—so charming he makes your head spin, and twice as beautiful, too. Striking and devilish. Too alluring to resist the curve of his sharp smile or the brilliance of his star-blue eye. Worse than that, the fae that you have borrowed magic from before. You're tethered to him, in some horrible, monumental way.
"Don't sound so excited to see me," he teases. The goblet of wine in his hand, adorned with rings and jewels, clink against each other musically. And then he smiles because he knows. "Do I make you nervous?"
Your heart must've given it away.
"No," you respond sharply, "you irritate me."
He hums but the gleam in his eyes tells you he knows differently.
"Thirsty, then, perhaps?" He offers his wine glass to you now.
The liquid inside is plum dark. Sweet smelling. Tempting.
"My brother makes the finest wines in all the land, dark as rubies or light as the stars. Tastes as good, too. Wouldn't you like to try?"
"I'm no fool, Kaeya." You respond, finally leaning away from the pull. Of him. Of the wine.
"No," he agrees sweetly, "I suppose I'll have to be craftier."
Now, he takes a sip himself. A deep pull, throat working, until you realize he's going to finish the whole cup. Some escapes from the corners of his mouth, slips down the bend of his jaw, down onto his neck, trailing down his bare chest.
You watch the trail of it down his body. You swallow hard.
When he pulls the goblet away, his lips are berry red and he wipes at his mouth.
"Perhaps you're interested in a taste of something else." He muses, smile turning knowing and wolfish.
Heat rips through you. Your face explodes with it. With your embarrassment.
"Leave me alone, you devil." You turn sharply away from him, to storm off, or to leave entirely, you don't know. To get away from him.
His laugh curls around you, warm and amused.
"I'll have you yet, darling!"
"In your dreams!" You bark back over your shoulder.
"Oh, every night!"
You fight the urge to scream. You turn your face towards the sky, watch as the moon climbs higher and higher. This has only just begun.
When you glance back to Kaeya, he is gone, and all you find is other fae laughing and dancing and—touching. Holding each other.
You let out a harsh breath.
You feel eyes on you. You turn again. But he's nowhere to be found.
This will be a long, long night.
***
this makes me feel crazy fjdksfdks thank you for requesting!
send me a character + a monster and i'll write a drabble!
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Fairy Names Pt. 2
Fly with you! It’s been a while hasn’t it? Anyway, I’m here for a second part of one of my most popular posts.
The first post listed fairy names that were used in the DS game “Tinker Bell and the Great Fairy Rescue” in the create-a-fairy section of the game. While the names provided were feminine, I have pulled all of the masculine fairy names from the original Pixie Hollow game. Some names are repeats from the original post, but I kept them in as I wanted to get this out as soon as possible. I hope you enjoy. Here’s the original post.
~🧚🏻♀️🔥 Foxglove
First
Aaron
Ace
Acorn
Agate
Ajay
Alabaster
Alder
Alec
Aleron
Alex
Anchor
Andrew
Archer
Axel
Badger
Bailey
Baker
Bale
Banjo
Barclay
Basil
Benjy
Bert
Bevel
Birch
Bo
Boomer
Boone
Brock
Bruce
Brynn
Buddy
Burr
Burton
Buster
Calder
Casper
Cecil
Cedar
Chance
Chase
Chip
Clay
Cliff
Coal
Cog
Comet
Cosmo
Cote
Covey
Crag
Crane
Cyan
Dale
Dane
Darius
Darrin
Dawson
Decker
Deon
Devlin
Dewey
Donner
Drake
Dug
Dunn
Dustin
Dusty
Echo
Eddy
Edward
Elk
Emery
Erik
Ernie
Errol
Fennel
Fincher
Finn
Fir
Flint
Ford
Francis
Garnet
Glen
Gourd
Gourdie
Grove
Grub
Gull
Hale
Hare
Harris
Hawk
Henry
Heron
Hob
Jacob
James
Jasper
Jay
Kernal
Koto
Lance
Lark
Leaf
Lore
Lute
Lyric
Martin
Maze
Mica
Michal
Nadir
Nester
Oak
Ollie
Onyx
Otter
Peat
Pier
Pine
Quake
Quarry
Quinn
Rain
Ranger
Reed
Richard
River
Robin
Rook
Rusty
Rye
Sage
Sam
Scout
Sean
Seth
Shale
Shoal
Skimmer
Skyler
Spike
Spruce
Sterling
Stone
Tad
Teak
Thatcher
Thistle
Timber
Tiny
Toadstool
Tobey
Todd
Topher
Torn
Torrey
Vail
Valiant
Vern
Vic
Wedge
Wes
Wren
Wynn
Zak
Middle
Air
Almond
Apple
Aspen
Autumn
Badger
Bark
Beacon
Bear
Bitter
Brave
Bright
Brisk
Broom
Bumble
Candle
Cedar
Chilly
Citrus
Cloud
Cloudy
Clover
Cocoa
Copper
Cricket
Crow
Cub
Dapple
Dash
Day
Drift
Eagle
Elm
Evening
Falcon
Far
Fern
Fig
Fire
Fleet
Flicker
Foggy
Fox
Frost
Frozen
Funny
Garlic
Green
Hail
Hasty
Hawk
Hickory
Holly
Hurry
Ice
Ivy
Jelly
Jumpy
Lemon
Light
Lightning
Lime
Little
Lock
Lotus
Magic
Mango
Maple
Merry
Misty
Moon
Morning
Moss
Mossy
Mountain
Muddy
Never
Nickel
Night
Nimble
Oak
Orange
Otter
Parsley
Pear
Pebble
Pepper
Pine
Plum
Pollen
Pumpkin
Purple
Quick
Rain
Rainy
Rock
Rumble
Sage
Sandy
Sea
Shy
Silk
Slight
Snow
Sour
Speedy
Spider
Spring
Squall
Star
Storm
Stout
Strong
Sugar
Summer
Sun
Swift
Tangle
Thunder
Tiny
Toad
Tumble
Twisty
Water
Whiffle
Wild
Wind
Winter
Wrinkle
Last
Beam
Bee
Bell
Berry
Breath
Breeze
Bug
Button
Buzz
Chill
Chime
Cliff
Cloud
Clove
Crash
Curl
Dale
Dance
Dash
Dew
Din
Drop
Dust
Ear
Elbow
Eye
Feather
Field
Fig
Flame
Flap
Flash
Fleck
Flight
Flip
Flipper
Fly
Fog
Foot
Forest
Freeze
Fruit
Garden
Gem
Glade
Glimmer
Glow
Gourd
Grace
Griddlee
Gust
Heart
Hill
Hop
Horn
Hush
Jewel
Knee
Lake
Light
Lock
Loop
Lull
Meadow
Mello
Mint
Mist
Moon
Muddle
Muse
Newt
Noise
Nose
Peal
Pebble
Petal
Pin
Plume
Pond
Pool
Ray
Ripple
River
Roar
Root
Row
Ruckus
Rumble
Sand
Shadow
Sky
Smash
Song
Spark
Sparkle
Sparrow
Speck
Spirit
Splash
Spring
Sprite
Sprout
Stem
Stone
Storm
Stream
Stripe
Swamp
Swirls
Thistle
Thorn
Toad
Tree
Twill
Twist
Vale
Valley
Vine
Weather
Web
Whirl
Whisk
Whisper
Willow
Wind
Wing
Wings
Wink
Wish
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I started playing the Demo of Echos of the Plum Grove. I’m not very far in, only gotten to the first Sunday but I can see myself getting really into it when the full game is released. I love games that span across family generations and I’m a history buff so the colonial American setting is interesting. There’s still a lot to add but I’m probably gonna get it on release day.
Here’s a picrew I made for my OC. The art is by K_pupu or Hera on picrew.
Her name is Elizabeth Juniper. I’m planning on making a portrait for every member of the family I play as, but we’ll see how my follow through is.
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@call-2-arms cont.
As the darkness began to deepen around him within one of many throats that connected the stretched and left-wanting reach of Silvanus to the subterranean world below, he could not help but think of another child lost within a different brand of darkness he'd yet to find a ladder into. Perhaps it was misguided of him to chase that startled instinct of so desperately wanting to find his oldest friend within a century of lost echoes and shifting shadows? Kagha had said as much back at the grove when in her pestilence, she'd pointed out how the Archdruid could not, in good faith, put the needs of the grove first when he was far more concerned with chasing the ghosts of the past like they were simply memories best stored away in a safe along with a tattered journal and a halberd soaked in a brand of sorrow more potent than any snake's venom.
If Sornin did not already find the druid's actions misguided, Halsin could only imagine the drow's unrelenting displeasure at the very idea that the Archdruid of the emerald grove didn't just want to, but needed to save at least one child in duress from the dark to keep the heavy burden in his chest from causing him to sink yet again below the surface of shadows he'd been bobbing along all this time. Because if he were to go under yet again he feared, it might be another century or two than he had left before he gained a head above the water enough to make out the direction of a faint glimmer that would guide him to the spot where Thaniel lay trapped as a lighthouse in a heavy fog.
He felt the additional weight joining him on the ladder when it gave a few extra creaks, and a quick tilt of his head up to confirm his suspicion had a faint smile flicker across the tense expression he wore on the way down as he fully expected to find an awful sight for the surface that anyone else that lived below might not bat an eye over. "Of course... and I will accept your telling me so with grace and without further lip." The druid promised, halfway glad for the banter on the unnerving climb downwards.
Once his boots had hit rock bottom, Halsin swiftly turned and stepped out into the pooled blackness as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the underworld. His elvish vision easily cut through the ink after a moment, and he only but waited until the brush of druid leaves upon his drow companion's shoulder brushed against his bicep when the other joined him before he set forth in the direction he detected a sharp whimper and the offputting sound of rocks shifting. Coming upon a cliff side that led to a steep drop down onto a lower level partially lit by flower beds of mushrooms, he took a moment to stoop and quietly observe the scene below.
"PlEAse!" A young drow girl stood her ground across from an older, male counterpart who showed no signs of engagement other than having brandished a double-edged sickle that he wielded along the length of his arm. Eyes as black as the surroundings seemed pinned solely on the girl who couldn't have been more than ten at best- her pale amethyst complexion a dirtier shade of crushed plum in the center of a wet, sniveling expression. "Please, Seldzar- I don't...I don't wanna hurt ya. They can't make me!"
"Tch." The older drow scoffed at the display, though he still remained poised into the proper battle stance. The only pity about him was that he did not advance again to send her shrieking angrily and backing away as he had earlier. "Stop this nonsense. Immediately! You are proving that Lolth chose right for this test. You must attack me, Nathrae. I will die either way...my purpose is to keep you from the fate of the Striders now. Now come, and prove your wroth to our goddess!"
"NO!" The girl stamped her foot, flinging the dagger she'd been given earlier at the foot of the man. "I won't do it-! I won't hurt you...you're my, my friend-...you've been with me this whole time! I can't lose you like my parents too- I can't!" With a wail, she backed up blindly, blotting the dirty tears out of her eyes.
A deep frown set in the druid's expression as he considered the scene, particularly when the older drow straightened out of his defensive posture in order to begin the ruthless stride into towards the child, brandishing the scythe with a furious flick of his arm. Giving a start like he was about to jump down between the situation, he felt Sornin's arm move in front of him like a blockade to which he had to swivel a furious if not confused glance to the drow. "You would let this progress?" Whatever 'this' was...the only thing he could recognize was the distress in the child's actions and the raw panic in her voice as she continued to beg the advancing drow until she had no choice but to dart towards the wall both he and Sornin were set upon, her nails bloodying as she tried to scrabble uselessly up the rock face. In an instant, Halsin's eyes flashed with a golden fury as he bared his teeth. "I won't stand for this barbarism! Let me through, damn you-"
#//just makin' a child kill their useless male mentor in the name of lolth nothin' 2 see here#//striders no stridin'-#long post#call-2-arms#//and yes this would fuckn sting since he had to kill his own mentor oops-
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In this episode, Al and Kelly talk about what they think is still missing from Stardew Valley.
#stardew valley#echoes of the plum grove#bunny haven#mika and the witch's mountain#potion permit#len's island#chill town
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