strongshields
/ / * * noir the marvel pookies ( me ) miss u
THOUSHALTOBEY
strongshields
݁ ⁀ ෴ ☆ ° • ┃I LOVE YOU NOIR !
goldenglammer
the path was narrow, sun-dappled and choked with undergrowth, but pirphal moved through it like mist on water—quiet, pale, watchful. a wood-woven cloak hung over his shoulders, half hiding the bow strapped across his back. he didn’t mean to get close, not really. but there was blood in the air. not fresh enough to alarm him, not old enough to ignore.
he paused, crouched low near a ridge of moss-laden stone. voices. or one voice, then silence.
and then—he saw *him.*
a stranger. pale as bleached bone, elegant in a way that set pirphal’s nerves alight. no sword drawn, not immediately hostile. but something about him gleamed—like a knife just under velvet.
pirphal didn’t rise from the brush. not yet.
“…you’re not lost,” he said quietly, not asking. his voice was low, hoarse with disuse. “but you’re far from safe. people don’t linger here.”
he blinked, once.
“who are you?”
a subtle shift of his weight, hand not on his bow, but near it. not a threat. just… caution, coiled deep.
and something else. beneath the tension in his shoulders, a flicker of something sharp and ancient behind his eyes.
grief, perhaps.
or recognition.
THOUSHALTOBEY
@goldenglammer ⠀⠀⠀╱⠀⠀⠀being caught after feeding would normally result in quite the tragedy—- not for astarion, of course. with fresh strength and vigor flowing through his undead veins, a primal air about him, he was unstoppable. or so he felt like, anyhow. but there was something in the stranger's glance that caught him a little by surprise. caution. not fear, not immediate submission nor dominance, and not even anger. simple caution. and whilst he deemed this to be naive, he WAS working on the whole 'being a better person' thing. his fangs would remain away. for now. "who's asking?" he would wonder, dusting his hands off.
woodlanddruid
Halsin had been tending quietly to the fire, feeding it with thick pine branches that snapped and hissed as the sap caught flame. He was alone, or so he thought—content in the hum of crickets and the subtle stirrings of night creatures beyond the camp’s reach.
But the rustle of movement, soft and deliberate, caught his ear.
He straightened subtly, not alarmed, but no longer at ease. His sharp senses, long-honed by years in the wilds, detected more than just casual wandering. There was a tension to the steps, a hesitancy that struck him as *unusual*. When the figure stepped into the firelight, Halsin blinked—just once, but sharply.
“Astarion?”
His voice, deep and usually grounded with calm, now held a distinct note of *uncertainty*. He rose partially to his feet, setting aside his clay mug without ceremony, all the warmth from a moment ago replaced by a readiness—a protectiveness.
“You startled me,” he admitted, brow furrowed as his eyes searched the pale elf’s face. “Is something wrong?”
There was no accusation in his tone—just earnest worry. He took a cautious step forward, his bulk moving with surprising gentleness. His gaze softened, but did not lose its edge of tension.
“You don’t usually approach so quietly. Not unless… something’s happened.”
Halsin’s breath slowed as he took the moment in fully. There was more here than just a nightly visit. He could feel it like a change in the wind—subtle, but undeniable. And so, with no demand, only steady concern, he asked once more—quieter this time:
“Tell me. What is it?”
woodlanddruid
halsin smiled at that—soft and unseen, the kind that bloomed more in the chest than the face.
“good,” he murmured, letting the word hum low against astarion’s hair. “i hope you do.” his hand stayed where it was, calm and steady, not gripping but grounding. it didn’t surprise him, the way astarion still glanced around like a creature long caged. it didn’t bother him either. survival left its marks. he had seen it in animals, in people, in himself. the druid didn’t ask the instincts to go quiet—he simply gave them no reason to sharpen.
“and if you forget,” halsin added after a pause, “i’ll remind you.” not a promise made with urgency or pity, but the kind spoken like bark weathered by time—firm, rooted, unchanged. he leaned back just enough to tilt his head, so astarion could see the truth in his face if he looked. the firelight flickered in his amber eyes, catching in the lines that spoke of patience more than age.
“you don’t owe me anything for this,” he said quietly. “just… let yourself have it.” it wasn’t a command. wasn’t even a plea. just a permission, freely given. and then he shifted again, ever so slightly, so astarion could move if he needed. no cage, no trap. only choice. always choice. “even if only this once.”
THOUSHALTOBEY
@woodlanddruid ⠀⠀⠀╱⠀⠀⠀"boy do i know," he mumbled against halsin's warm chest. even if he wanted to be truly alone, he wasnt sure ANY of their companions would allow it. even so, halsin prevented him from feeling the loneliness. he was beyond grateful. not that he could verbalize it, though. he took a deep breath, the warm honey-like aroma of halsin's body seeming to add yet another layer of comfort to this already tranquil moment. his red eyes darted about from what little he could see around the druid's large frame, much like a caged beast. but there was no desire for escape, he knew he could if he wanted to. no, only observing their surroundings because, for once, he could observe without planning. "i'll remember this, you know." he whispered.
woodlanddruid
halsin could feel the tension at first—the way astarion’s body held itself like a drawn bow, braced for some pain that never came. he didn’t shift, didn’t squeeze tighter. just stayed steady. a silent message: *you are safe. I will not pull away.*
when he felt those cool hands settle against his back, he exhaled slow and quiet, like a forest sighing beneath the weight of snow. his hand rose gently, not to restrain, but to rest—broad fingers curling lightly at the back of astarion’s shoulder, a quiet anchor.
he felt the smile before he heard the words. felt the way the sharpness softened, just a little, in the elf’s posture.
“I always keep my promises,” he murmured, voice just a brush of warmth near astarion’s temple.
and then he said nothing else for a long while. he didn’t need to. the fire crackled, soft and low, casting gold across their joined shadows. halsin’s breath stayed slow and even, patient as ever.
his hold didn’t falter—not possessive, not pressing. just *there.* strong, open, and wholly unshaken by whatever silence or stillness the moment brought.
when he finally did speak again, it was quieter still, like the hush of leaves at dusk.
“you don’t have to be alone in this, you know.”
he didn’t say *what* exactly. didn’t need to. the offer lingered in the air, not asked of him, just given. like everything else.
timeprdox
** Hot
woodlanddruid
" we've been walking for some time now. dis you wish to go back to the wilds? " not that he minded. the calm was definitely something needed. he didn't expect the vampire to enjoy such things. much less to ask for the small outing to begin with. it was welcoming none the less. very quick to accept the rare offer.
woodlanddruid
； I may havoe died on here. I will try and reply soon, I swear. I will also send that starter soon. currently dying from a cold.
THOUSHALTOBEY
@woodlanddruid ⠀⠀⠀╱⠀⠀⠀" i suppose not. " the elf would respond, turning from the druid to take in more sights. in all of his hunting and prowling, there hadn't been much time to truly observe what beauty lay in the realm. untouched by the darker plague of people and corruption. he'd gently drag his fingers over the grooves of a tree trunk as his crimson eyes found halsin yet again. the question in halsin's mind also seemed to linger in astarion's. if he hadn't been turned, and his life remained as dull as it had been, where would he be now? would he be able to sit at the fire and laugh with the others? would he not feel the need to hide the most vulnerable pieces of himself? who would he be? he hadn't the faintest clue. he couldn't afford to think about what ifs. not with so much of his life already lost. " camp out here? just the two of us? " he clarified, looking up at the druid. most would've used this as some romantic getaway. some time with the most alluring creature around. but he saw no indication of that within the druid's gaze. " that sounds.. not all that bad of an idea. "
woodlanddruid
" I'm alright, not to worry. I just needed time away from the city. maybe it is best I leave for a few days to gather myself. I ... acted on irritation and that I am truly sorry for. know this isn't what I am truly like. it is this place – "
woodlanddruid
； I'll reply soon I swear. it is my last week at my shitty job I gave month's notice for so I'll be active soon
THOUSHALTOBEY
݁⠀ ⠀.̲.̲.̲⠀ ⠀:⠀ ⠀@woodlanddruid , "don't mistake my desire to get away for a newfound tree-hugging outlook, druid. " he offered a subtle smile as he replied, fangs peeking out every so often. "i do enjoy the city, the debauchery and all, but its the people here that haunt me. " he didn't love talking about the hold that cazador had on him, even all the way out here, but he was getting better at it. "the quiet wilds just happen to hold the cure. " he agreed. he was thankful for all that halsin had done for him, whether he was grateful in the moment or not. he often shied away from a helping hand as he was too used to there being a catch. with halsin though, there never was. "in the morning then. " he agreed, picking at his nails absent-mindedly. he knew it was obvious to the group that he had some nervous thoughts when it came to the city, it seemed like most of them had those thoughts too, but hearing halsin say it aloud made him feel seen. strangely enough. "a few days of quiet, uninterrupted tranquility before we potentially die here. sounds perfect. " he hummed.
woodlanddruid
" can't sleep again? would it help to be kept a little warm? " a bit of a joke, but he wouldn't mind if the offer was taken either. regardless if he is serious or not.
THOUSHALTOBEY
݁⠀ ⠀.̲.̲.̲⠀ ⠀:⠀ ⠀@woodlanddruid , astarion stood up off of the log he'd been seated ontop of. he made some fair points; feeding off of halsin was far more intimate than a nice embrace to keep warm. and, it was probably a lot safer to try the latter first. "well i have you to thank for that don't i. " he half-smiled, one hand at his own hip. "oh i can only imagine the gossip. " his smile grew into a grin as he thought about the reactions of others. he absolutely adored drama; it kept life interesting. but spending more time with the druid, one of the few he'd willingly do so, was something he found just as fun. "company sounds good right about now. lead the way. "
woodlanddruid
" well, I don't mind. you have fed off me so I feel this is a far more comfortable offer for my part. " nit that he minded the blood he offered. sure the following day was not an easy one, but not anything that would stop him or make him regret it. " glad to see you're in far better spirits too. in all honesty I wouldn't mind the comapny either. might be interesting to see how most react in the morning. " not that he cared for such things. he simply wanted to play along to the vampire's little trickster nature. knowing he sometimes thrived off of the drama he would cause.
THOUSHALTOBEY
݁⠀ ⠀.̲.̲.̲⠀ ⠀:⠀ ⠀@woodlanddruid , the spawn opened his mouth to deny the druid's jest but he didn't speak immediately. while he was aware of halsin' lighthearted tone, a part of him / did / find itself curious. he couldn't feel that much warmth, not without a little blood , but curious nonetheless. "if you're offering, " he hummed, a small smile at his lips.
oceandamned
astarion, have i done something to upset you? you’ve been distant.
THOUSHALTOBEY
݁⠀ ⠀.̲.̲.̲⠀ ⠀:⠀ ⠀@whirlwindruid , ( he placed on hand at his hip while the other remained at his side, occasionally flailing about as he spoke. he wore this confidence like an armor. it protected him from danger and without it he was vulnerable, open for any unseen threat. and while he was beginning to trust the elven woman, that was just that—- the / beginning / of trust. ) unfortunate but, once again, i'm just fine. ( he insisted, this time crossing his arms over his chest. in truth, it was not a singular thing that caused him this unease. no, rather, it was a bundle of stress. from worrying about cazador, the reverie memories, the debilitating hunger—- hells, the damned tadpole laying in his brain. it had been building. he needed a break. or some damn answers. but neither of those could be found in the other. none that he wanted to partake in at the moment, anyway. )
oceandamned
[ aela stared at the other, the gears in her mind working overtime in an attempt to figure out what could possibly be bugging him. unfortunately, she couldn’t do it. ] i don’t believe you.
THOUSHALTOBEY
݁⠀ ⠀.̲.̲.̲⠀ ⠀:⠀ ⠀@whirlwindruid , i assure you i'm fine. nothing to worry about on my end—- shadowheart though? she might need a hug or two. perhaps you should check on / her /.
oceandamned
i, uh… found these books lying around and i thought they were yours, so i came to drop them off. are they not?
THOUSHALTOBEY
he hadn't granted himself the freedom of writing in so long. it'd been used against him before, the raw words he'd spilled onto parchment. now he settled for living vicariously through another's tale. "why do you ask? " he wondered, tilting his head to the side. "planning on / finding / more? " he attempted to tease. in all honesty though, it was a thinly veiled attempt to hide his morbid curiosity. (3/3)
THOUSHALTOBEY
his first instinct was to QUESTION her. why would she care what he enjoyed reading? and why should he tell her? sure, they were spending far more evenings together than separate, but he'd assumed it was just his plan coming together. he was made to lure pretty things, after all. but for her to truly care about what had him on the edge of his seat.. that was truly unexpected.
"what books i like? " he repeated her aloud, his voice melodic in tone. he put one finger to his chin in thought. honestly, he wasn't entirely sure what his favorite types were. he enjoyed learning about the weave and fae ancestry, both of those helped him learn more about casting. and he had a particular taste for reading the private journals of others but that wasn't something he wanted to be entirely forthcoming about. he thought about it for a mere handful of moments and yet, in searching his mind, it felt like far longer. if she wanted honesty he could grant her that shard of him.
so he relayed that to her. he spoke of his interest in fae ancestry, weave knowledge, and vaguely alluded to liking to know the inner workings of someone's mind, "and perhaps poems. " he admitted. defensively, he added, "they may be silly but a poet's words are unlike any other. honestly. " as much as he tried not to focus too much on aspects of himself like this, he knew poetry spoke to him unlike much else. it was so raw and entirely up for interpretation. ( jk 2/3 )
THOUSHALTOBEY
݁⠀ ⠀.̲.̲.̲⠀ ⠀:⠀ ⠀@whirlwindruid , to compare astarion to a wild animal was easy. most people would make that connection after uncovering some of his layers—- in the metaphorical sense / and / literal. he'd been hurt relentlessly for centuries, both by his own hand and other's. and even then, there wasn't always an immediate face behind the torment. his own inability to trust or truly see needs outside of his own were things that constantly hindered his growth as an individual. he was a wild animal, without a doubt, but a wounded one at that. he couldn't tell the healthy limb from the diseased one. everything was a blur, always looking for the next cheap thrill. escapism plagued him. perhaps that's why reading came naturally to him now. most of it was not rooted in his own experience. but as the days inched past and the druid urged him to / better / himself rather than succumb to his own dark, prideful urges, he found himself stepping outside of his normal habits. whether that be asking before he bit, or even just biting a thinking creature in general, or lending out a helping hand. he was changing. and despite how he felt about it, the JOY she got from it was hard to deny. his broke free from his thoughts at the druid's condition. it caught him off guard. he furrowed his brows but remained fixed in his confident facade. he never wanted to be caught without it; it was more raw than when he shed every fabric of his body. 1/2