#verse. the empyrean

[litearra]

cold,   sender places their jacket over receiver's shoulders.

flames dance, fires lit to keep the fliers warm in the winter cold. yet she stands too far away to feel the heat. teeth chattering while fear lingers in her eyes, nearly a decade and her fear is still rooted so deeply in her bones. unpredictable as it ransacked the grassland camp, left nothing in its wake - darkness surrounding her as she slept in the ashes of her home. became her only friend in those days when she thought she had lost everything. but shadows do not provide heat, instead, the twinkles of light in her life does. feels the warmth of @literare’s jacket around her shoulders - a soft smile tugging at the corners of her purple-ish lips.      ❝ thank you.❞     she softly murmurs as the back of her head thuds back against his strong chest, tilted as she looks up at him.    

#ch. yasemin uzun #ft. selim ulusoy #literare #verse. the empyrean #ooc. queue

[aprill-99]

Xaden Riorson🤝Bryce Quinlan🤝Rowan Whitethorn🤝Ruhn Danaan

“You call it a fire hazard. I call it a performance metric.”

#incorrect quotes #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #violet x xaden #bryce quinlan #hunt athalar #bryce x hunt #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan x aelin #ruhn danaan #lidia cervos #lidia x ruhn #throne of glass #crescent city #Xaden doesn’t know what he’s doing in Maas verse but he’ll take the handshake #anyone who hooks up with a Vanserra gets a list inclusion #forth wing #iron flame #the empyrean

[burritello3000]

LSoH Saga

@phoebepheebsphibs & @boots-with-the-fur-club There’s still more to come >:]

Featuring:

@sugarpasteltmnt | @hitwiththetmnt | @shiveagit Lore? (This is my way of saying I LOVE YOUR IDEA SO MUCH AND I NEED MORE but no pressure :) ) | @kaysdenofchaos | @cupcakeslushie | @tangledinink | @fireheartfan | @dianagj-art | @intotheelliwoods (Sorry, I just realized how distorted he looks 😭 Oops) | @sharkfinn | Who ever is in that big-ass fight | @tmntaucompetition

#Feral Leo and TMWC Mikey would be BFFs and you cannot convince me otherwise #the neon void #tnv fanart #TMNT Spitfire #Hand.png #Audrey lll #No Fun in Fungus #Spiderpunk #across the teetlzes verse #little shop of horrors #TMMT Donatello #tmmt raphael #Feral Leo #TMWC Mikey #Poptart #one #SeparatedLeoAU #2 arms left #Teenage Mutant Warrior Cats #Teenage meddling mutant turtles #Spots #little brother au #Swanatello #empyrean weeping au #EW au #EW Donnie #tmnt au competition

[animezinglife]

All I'm saying is one of those parody rap battles between the Archeron sisters and Sorrengail siblings would be absolutely hilarious.

#Elain coming in innocently with her verse like Juliet in the R&J vs. Bonnie and Clyde one #Feyre vs. Violet would be HILARIOUS #wish they'd come back in booktok form #acotar #a court of wings and ruin #the empyrean #fourth wing #iron flame #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #mira sorrengail #brennan sorrengail #epic rap battles #epic rap battles of history

[folkorae]

❧ ⸻ plotted thing i owe eons ago with @ironwoven / Feyre & Xaden !

𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗵, 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗲𝗿 ; today is an especially busy day in the southern area of ​​ Basgiath. The hospital wing is already full of cadets and experienced dragon riders with serious ( or not-so-serious ) injuries that need to be treated. With the return of the challenges that happen in the Rider’s Quadrant, healers are in more demand than usual. Particularly today, Feyre noticed some tension among her fellow healers and as she delivered pain-relieving medicine to a rider, she heard them saying that the rebel's son was there.

It took a moment for Feyre to realize who they were talking about — Xaden Riorson, and he was alone near the bed in the corner. They treat the marked ones when they showed up here, but Feyre knew some healers refused to treat them. No one wanted to go near the rebellion commander's son. Feyre felt a pang of guilt and pity. It's not Riorson's fault that his father did what he did, right ? The healers denying to treat him seems so wrong. Feyre walked towards him, ignoring the low warnings of the others, she stopped in front of the rider who appeared to be doing . . . What is he trying to do ? “ You are doing it wrong. ” Her voice came out, calm and serene , as her blue-gray eyes analyzes any injuries.

#ironwoven #so sorry that it took me a while to post it! #but i love them already #she is so bold in going talk to him haushaua #also i let for you to decide what he was doing and which injuries he has #if he has any! #❧ ⸻ ic / feyre archeron . #❧ ⸻ verses : feyre archeron / the empyrean : we all fight in the best way we can . #❧ ⸻ queue .

[liurniatears]

Her eyes and words are so icy Oh but she burns - hozier

#verse: twilight empyrean #gif #liurniatears edit

[strywoven]

@wisdomlibrarian has requested a story : “ you are a crayon, get out of the toolbox. ” (@ Verona)

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Now this , of all things , gives great empyrean pause ( & funny that , she thought nothing would surprise her ! yet those simple words leave her positively perplexed ) .  Amid the lingering length of silence , Verona dons a most p u z z l e d look , crowned head canting and feathers fluffing up at her back as she tries to reason out Alogaia’s thoughts.  Rare is it for her to look so STUMPED , so utterly BAFFLED and set off-balance.  She only ruffles further when the cleric seems a m u s e d at her perpetual confusion ( what , what ? woman , tell her , was it a compliment ? a literal assertion ? she does not understand ! ) .

She huffs softly , points of ears lowering slightly , proud hoist rightly d e f l a t i n g into a defensive s l o u c h .  ❝ I … A crayon ? ❞  No , that does not suit , why , it does not sound right at all !  Verona crosses her arms , claws drumming idly along her bicep as her features furrow contemplatively ( she certainly might be thinking too deeply about this — ) .  ❝ Oh , no , no … ❞  She says at length , giving her head a shake , a hand lifting and forming into a single claw raised.  ❝ I respectfully disagree , Alogaia !  Although war is , to me , an artform , I do not believe a CRAYON would be especially fitting.  Perhaps consider the shield or the sword !  Both of which are especially IMPORTANT and do indeed belong in one’s toolbox , I am sure. ❞  She nods safely at own words , her smile returning in self-satisfied expression.  ❝ Hm , well , less a toolbox , and more an armory , I suppose. ❞

#❧ ⸺ how can ( queue ) say there is no story here ? ❞ #❧ ⸺ ch. verona | answered ❞ #❧ ⸺ ch. verona | verse i: main ❞ #wisdomlibrarian #silly empyrean takes silly words literally more at 11 #she's like... mildly offended alo referred to her as smth so benign as a CRAYON #like ; the NERVE #( verona will remember that ) flashes across the screen

[litearra]

still very much a work in progress. but i have been toying around with the idea of legacy riders ( double signet or stronger signets ) who's deaths were faked after threshing, where they've bonded dragons in their direct line of legacy, by navarrian leadership. their roles depend on their signets, essentially they are a network of spies / soldiers of all ages. trained to fight venin/wyvern and thereby aware of their existence.

i'm currently working on two characters, one who "re-enters" the riders quadrant to spy on the marked students. the other aided in the rebellion but due to his valuable status as a legacy rider he isn't executed instead he is instead instated as a teacher at basgiath - under the watchful eye of general sorrengail and colonel aetos. i am considering making him the older brother of isaac mairi, but neither liam or sloane are aware of his existence, just because if feel like navarrian leadership would be cruel and see his punishment as having to watch his family die in the quadrant.

#verse. the empyrean #worldbuilding. lore

[cupcakeslushie]

The empyrean that Leo was subjected to, does that make him a little unhinged like Donnie? Or due to his limited exposure, and I’m guessing his training he’s able to handle it?

You’ve might explained this before in your comments but I can’t find anything 🙈

So I think it’s a common assumption in my AU that Empyrean is the cause of Donnie’s mental issues…but Donnie’s poor mental health is due to all the torture and trauma that Draxum put him through, and the Empyrean only heightens it by making his visions more realistic, and his emotions more erratic.

In the EW verse, Empyrean enhances emotions that are already there. This is why Draxum becomes obsessive with figuring out his mutation formula and training Three. Over the years, without the Empyrean, he would’ve been able to focus on more important things, like raising Three properly, and was even heading in that direction, but then they started collecting it. Stern parenting and simple tests became horrible abuse and dangerous experimentation.

For Leo, Kitsune was incorporating her own magic with his exposure. So the Empyrean made her spells to control him stronger. What helps snap Leo out of this control is seeing his brothers for the first time, and more importantly, what happens to him during his three week coma (which should be explained in the next update or so). His coma will act as almost a system reboot for his mind. This will cause the unusual turn around in his behavior, that we’ve heard Cass talk about. When Leo sees his brothers, it throws him off his game, and causes him to make mistakes, but after waking from his coma, Leo really begins to act like a totally different person to the one the Shredder has meticulously crafted.

But judging by that big pit of green goop, Leo’s not going back to his family without one last Empyrean exposure. And he’s pretty angry right now. Hope that won’t affect his relationships with his brothers and father 😬.

#ask slushie #rise of the tmnt #separated au #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise leo #rottmnt separated au #Sep!au infodump #sep!au info dump

[catcas22]

I'm still on board with the theory that St. Trina was an alias Miquella used in his youth. But I also think that splitting off pieces of one's psyche to create a new being is an Empyrean ability, possibly a defense mechanism activated in moments of extreme trauma (sort of the way certain plants and fungi release spores when damaged). We know Malenia did it, but Marika also seems to have done it at least once. Could Miquella have subconsciously done the same when Mohg cut him out of his original cocoon in the Haligtree?

Back in the Unalloyed-verse, Mothman Miquella is making his rounds in the infirmary when he encounters a young perfumer who looks strangely familiar.

#elden ring #fanart #unalloyed fic #unalloyed epilogue #miquella the unalloyed #mothman miquella #st trina #malenia blade of miquella

[ladyduellist]

Epistles of Saints & Sinners

Chapter Summary:

Reflections are made on Tav and Astarion's intimate night together before entering the Goblin Camp.

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Story Summary:

When Astarion meets the humble bard, Tav, he soon finds out he's the only one between them that knows they are bound as soulmates through their marks. Deciding it's more trouble than its worth, he refuses to tell her along the course of their journey across Faerûn.

But, unbeknownst to him and their companions, Tav is harboring a gruesome secret that she only thought was nothing more than a traumatized period in her life.

As they both come to face to face with their pasts and presents, will they choose to move forward or let it consume them?

Healing isn’t linear—after all.

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Chapter 7: Beholden

Ao3

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Main Page & Chapter List

Word Count: 3.8k

Pairing: Astarion x female bard Tav

CW: Blood, Violence, Language, Act 1 Spoilers

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

We must follow nature’s course. Whether it be cruel or kind. We cannot interrupt its plan for the world. Their tadpoles connected them in more ways, than a simple acknowledgement of their shared affliction. But, boundaries are toilsome when broken. And creeping upon their coasts, will cost a sacrifice, yet to be demanded.

— Halsin, journal entry 1,200

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

There was a stir of a song being born. One from the buds of untilled soil thought dead. The words to accompany it were being haphazardly forged on parchment, like random notes written on coffee-stained napkins.

Tav hummed and wrote. Wrote and hummed. It was an all-consuming process that transfixed her until it was completed. And her lucky muse? A wreath of ghostly ringlets framing two eyes of garnet that haunted the pounding organ behind her cage of bones.

♫On your chariot of umbra, You rode up from the world below, And with a kiss of starlight you…um??? Youuuuuu….♫

“Hope I’m not pesterin’ you. Saw you over here by your lonesome,” Karlach interrupted as she approached the lounging minstrel with a lopsided smile and a ‘hair of the dog’ pint in her grasp.

“Mornin.’ Only struggling with this verse,” she beamed, tucking a wavy piece of hair behind her ear.

“Something’s different about you, eh?” The fiery tiefling observed, taking a sip from her drink.

Tav placed her quill back into its ink pot and straightened out her music sheets while readjusting her position on the tree stump. A cunning prickling of thorns flushed on her cheeks. “I—no. I don’t believe anything has changed about me.”

But, that wasn’t true. Within a man’s arms she came undone, finding empyrean respite. His fingers worked her like a charm spell until she lost herself in the casted shadows of candlelight. Yet, it wasn’t her moans for him in the night nor the donation of her ichor that she gave willingly that surprised her: it was a piece of her trust.

“Perhaps it is because she engaged in quite the exhaustive venture last evening! Blood loss does have quite the effect on people. Or so I’m told,” Astarion cut in. “But, me? I feel wonderful!”

And he does look wonderful. His cheeks are less gaunt. Bags under his eyes are a calmer shade of powdery periwinkle. Eyes appear sharper, a brighter red. The sky blue coloring is more saturated in the prominent veins of his arms.

All his beauty and dangerous splendor are the reasons sonnets are made along the roadways of mud and intoxicating jasmine blooms. There are thousands of intricately weaved words inserted into poems to describe his ilk, like morning mist drops settled upon the threads of arachnids.

Tav cannot contain the lightness she feels when she sees Astarion. Her wings spread out, each feather hiding fragility under their vanes. Will he catch her slim feet as she flies away?

“Hey-o, you dandy! Ready to go gut some gobs today?”

Tav hushed the acrobats in her stomach. “Good dawn to you, ‘Starion.”

“Karlach. Songbird,” he greeted them equally. “You know I wouldn’t miss out on such a gutting show, however, I did come to check on our leader before we head out.”

Before she was able to speak, he had already sailed over to her upon muted silver heeled footsteps. She straightened her posture, suddenly aware that he is bent acutely at his waist, enough to reach out to kindly dust her fresh marks.

“How badly does it hurt?” His pale head tilted, curls slipping to the side.

The smell of his freshly applied perfumes addled her mind. His eyes, a clever decadence, held the knowledge of her ecstasies that she snuck to him during an impulsive need.

“Sorer than the wrist. Like a dull muscle ache from a cramp,” she congenially answered.

“Nothing you cannot surely triumph over. And how about everything else?” He breathed out.

The vampire does not attempt to mask his meaning or shy from the euphoria he exorcized from her body. He was brazen to ask her in front of their acquaintance.

A sharp intake of air blessed her partially opened mouth. Heavily did she swallow to control the overflow of her marching chest. “Fine. Everything else is fine.”

“Hmm. You know…,” Astarion whispered, a low distraction as she watched the tip of his tongue wet his lips. “I can still taste you on my fingers.”

This fancier of the bloodthirsty arts, has two sets of teeth. One with which to feed. The other with which to claim. For this elven bard, a bargain has been made.

She wanted to match him in his torturous tease. To pluck out his devil’s tongue and boil it in a spiritual cleanse.

But, there was fine print that sat on the curled edges of the pages of their pasts, smudged with fingerprints and laced with belladonna. Warnings of holes where their hearts lay; labyrinths of frozen gardens that have no end.

Tav had not forgotten the way their rousing decision ended the night prior—with his fingers covered in her fruit and her lips finding purchase upon his alabaster skin. The vague emptiness that enameled over his touch, apparent through the shadows of his eyes.

She had left his tent, with her sex loosened and a continual masturbatory bomb of fears that she had crossed a broken boundary of his that he didn’t yet understand.

“Astarion, there’s something I wanted to ask you about last night.” She willed her face to form into stone to show her sincerity, attempting to mouth it to him in hushed tones.

“Oh my sweet, you’re not getting mawkish on me now, are you? The only serious thing we need to discuss is when you’ll invite me back for another snack,” Astarion winked suggestively.

The bard continued her well-nigh unresponsive discretion of her features, ignoring Karlach’s pacing behind the pale elf. She stood up, a few inches shy of his natural height, placing her hands on her hips. Her jaw tightened, but she remained silent while she stared into his face.

There was a surprised look, as if she had just turned an entire ocean to desert. He avoided entertaining her with any further quips or illusions, instead, blinking several times before abruptly summoning his trained foxy slink to his face.

“Did you hear that? I think it’s our ghastly duty calling upon us to finally help those Silvanus freaks before they start complaining about ‘the leaves of nature being preserved.’ It may be wise to think of better songs to regale the goblins with then you did that foul ogre. Lest we wind up on the skewer. Now, if you’ll excuse me, ” he dramatically retorted as he casually checked the cleanliness of his nails.

Astarion gave the women a mannerful bow before he strode away without paying another peek in Tav’s direction.

Tav remained calm as he left, breathing out a long sigh. They needed to prepare for the assault on the goblins. He was a distraction—not necessarily an unwelcome one—but one with knobby roots twisted along the cloister inside his dried innards. If she didn’t get her shit together, a lot of people would die and their blood would be on her hands.

“I’m sorry about the interruption Karlach, he—”

Karlach took a long gulp of her drink, the ale dripping down onto her chin. Her face lit up, almost literally, with an excited smile. Tav knew immediately that the barbarian was far too astute in situations of sexual vices to not read the interaction that just occurred.

“Oh. My. Gods. That’s why you look like you’re glowing today! You and Astarion?! You fucked him, didn’t you?!”

The songtress’s vision widened and her face felt like it would burst into flames, much like the tiefling’s engine.

“Hells, Kar. Could you keep your voice down? We just—we kissed. A lot. And he obviously bit my neck to feed afterwards.” She pulled down the collar of her doublet to show her the punctures.

A white lie. Not entirely. She wasn’t one to share the details of her romanticisms with others. It was a preference to keep the echoes of intimate reflections as special moments; treasures discovered along the shipwrecks of life.

“Hey, I’m not judging! Astarion is gorgeous! Bit of a sassy grouch sometimes, but if I had my chance with him, I would not hesitate to get all over that.” The red woman made thrusting motions with her hips. “That being said—you don’t look entirely happy about it.”

Tav pursed her mouth, staring off to the right side of Karlach as she collected her thoughts. Her throat tightened as she spoke, delicately attempting to avoid providing any details she knew of the spawn’s past.

“You mentioned recently that you sensed Astarion has been through a lot of pain, but I’m unsure where that begins and ends for him. And that concerns me. Karlach, I don’t want to potentially hurt him further. I barely know him and it’s… look, I’m telling you this because I think out of everyone, you will understand.”

Karlach crossed her arms. A caring frown accompanied the orangish calm of her irises. “I won’t pry further, but Astarion seems to be fixated on his freedom. Can’t blame him. I am too with my own from Zariel. He can be a real piece of work, but even rotten scoundrels need a gentle hand sometimes. Maybe he hasn’t had that in a long time—if ever.”

The bard blew out the air she’d been holding in. “A gentle hand,” she repeated. “You’re right. Thank you for listening. It’s not easy to open up about these types of subjects. And I want what’s best for Astarion—everyone really—but I’m not sure he even knows what that is just yet.”

“I’ve got your back, Tav. Everyone in camp does—really. And shit will work out. Alright? We’re truly in this together, as sappy as that sounds.” The tiefling knocked back the rest of her drink, a glint of curiosity in her eyes. “Now, can you at least tell me how it was to kiss him? Please let me live vicariously through you.”

A merry laugh passed through Tav. She curled her index finger near her chin in thought. “Okay. Close your eyes and I’ll describe it to you. Imagine lips: Plush, supple, but chilled. Not frozen, but a pleasant degree—like sweetened cool milk soothing your warmed lips. As you press them against his, you can feel your heart quicken and slow at the same time. Your breath’s intertwine with warm and cold temperatures that elicit thoughts you’ve never had. And when your lips start to move? It feels like you’ve both committed the crime of lassoing the sun closer to you as you melt into one another.”

Karlach visibly shuddered, opening her eyes to Tav smiling gently at her. “It’s no wonder you’re a bard. I could almost feel that myself! Thank you, friend. I suppose we’ve wasted enough time talking about boys for the day—should we get things rumblin’?”

She politely nodded and turned around to round up her belongings. Rummaging aimlessly through her satchel, her brow furrowed in annoyance.

“Something the matter?” The tiefling questioned.

“Just something odd. I could have sworn I put it in here before I came to write.”

“Maybe I can help find it. What is it that we’re looking for?”

Lost in confusion, Tav held the purse upside down a final time to see if any items stumbled to the ground. “My cuticle oil.”

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

When he woke from his trance in the early morning hours with dried blood cracking in the corners of his mouth, his vampiric nose involuntarily breathed in an alien scent that had seemed to fill his tent overnight.

Astarion’s clothes had stunk of Tav’s fragrance she was ever so fond of, having made homes for itself in the islands of stitches on his sleeves and ruffled v-neck. Bodily fluids, now dried on his ornamental pillows, a sexual honeyed musk. He wrapped his tongue around his finger, still tasting the glacé of her sensual defeat; a sour memory of their night together.

He reached for the rags he used to wipe off her bloodied essence from her upper body, scrunching them up to place under his nostrils. He inhaled without reserve and groaned. Cock half-hard, a reminder of the effect drinking from thinking creatures had on his hunger. A pink tongue darted out to clean off his mouth, swallowing the red flakes down.

Under the light of a candle, its single flame licking wicked pathways to her want, he had concealed his guise of disgust behind her shoulder. All he could remember was the act itself—that it happened. That his fingers entered her and he poetically spoke naughty phrases into her ear to anchor her wetness for him.

Trust. Trust. Trust. She gave it to him with the arch of her back into his chest. Just as he predicted. Just as he planned.

However, virtually all of the details of their intimacy—the night—were lost on him. Her face was another among the blur of thousands he seduced over two centuries. Up petticoats and down breeches he searched their bodies to steal their pleasures. His cock would only thicken out of trained habit or a rare wishful fancy of ravaging apart a neck from any creature without hisses and tails. It meant nothing to him.

Yet, a singular detail did remain. A place he entered beyond the second circle of hell in lust, a circle where it seemed like his death could be undone. A river of lyrics carrying him along a raft of flower-crowned skulls towards the banks of her merciful arms.

During the twilit minutes before he released her, he made the blunder of examining her eyes before their ravenous kiss. What he had seen was—acceptance.

And it scared the fuck out of him.

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

“I am enjoying our walks together, aren't you Gale?” Astarion teased while they walked through the inner sanctum of the temple overtaken by the goblins.

“Um yes, in silence.” Gale leaned in towards him, whiffing his scent, “By the way, I don’t mean to pry, but did you apply more of your aromatic oils than usual? ”

He searched for a quick remark to hand to the wizard. “Only because I knew I’d be in your presence today.”

Half of the vampire’s morning had been dedicated to scrubbing. Crouched over a bucket of soapy water, Astarion had soaked his clothing and rags, ridding them of scents unknown. Of the lingering remnants of her. His skin raw from how hard he attacked his flesh with suds and woven cloth. The final touch? Excessive dabs of his oils in unusual places to cloy any bits leftover of her odor.

“The Priestess is up ahead. I’ll go speak with her. Wait here for a moment,” Tav’s melodious voice spoke reservedly to them.

No-nonsense. This was a part of her Astarion both equally appreciated and despised. Despite her penchant to offer her generosity to all of Faerûn, she pulled her punches. It was a waste of time to her otherwise and could be messy. Efficiency would deliver the most desired outcomes, but gods, he desperately wanted to create mischief at every turn.

Astarion, be sweet. Astarion, we don’t need to lockpick EVERY chest. Astarion, leave that ogre and bugbear having intercourse in the barn to fulfill their needs alone. Astarion, don’t have fun. Astarion, let’s save all these idiots!

”Astarion? Please don’t hurt me.”

Dizziness. Presumably from their encounter with the dream visitor in the prism as they came upon the entrance of camp a short while ago. It wanted to protect them against The Chosen. The Absolute. All their enemies. To give them power. Yes. Power was the most important ability to hold in all aspects. Power will usher forth freedom and protection. With power: the possibilities were endless.

Thrum-dub…thrum-dub…thrum-dub.

Pulses? Astarion felt the constellation of his soul mark beating mildly. Tav’s back faced him, her features obscured. Her body was hunched over minimally at the waist, hand at the side of her temple. His eyes narrowed, jaw taunt. Something happened.

Thrum-dub.Thrum-DUB. THRUM-DUB. THRUM. THRUM. DUB.

Faster now. Harder pounds of a pumping bass through the bandwidth of their marks. She was nervous—frightened. The threshold betwixt them was closing in as an invisible rope pulled him closer.

He flinched. Really, he should stay out of her way; he shouldn’t get involved. It was perhaps wicked to not divulge to her the shared marks they possessed, but it would change everything. His plans would become a brittle cascade of a future he sought. He didn’t want to disrupt the plank he had been trying to balance upon since his unintentional escape from Cazador. But, he’s aware that he needs her and she needs him.

Besides, what better way to obtain one’s help to a cause—his cause—than a life owed?

“They’re connected. Quickly, we need to do something! If we start attacking, Tav could be in danger.” Gale stepped forward, sweat trickling down the sides of his face.

Light were Astarion’s steps as he snuck upon Tav and Priestess Gut. The creator of his misery appeared stifled, her mouth partly opened with persistent shallow breaths. The tadpoles of the goblin and elf had connected; Tav was fighting to push it out. A dull whimpering snuck out from her throat as if a deer was jerking around in pain.

Astarion seized her elbow, declining his head to press his lips to the opening of her ear canal, nose softly resting against its shell. He whispered in elvish, a language only the two of them would know, steadying his voice firmly.

“She won’t see it. Nothing is going to hurt you. I’m here.”

The hex of the worms severed and she was free! Tav’s body slumped downwards, but faithful hands were catching her, grabbing at her arm to wrap around staunch shoulders—wrapping around the illusionary dripping silverlight he exuded.

“When did you…?” Her voice broke up in a hoarse muttered tone.

Giving her waist a confident squeeze, he smiled sweetly at her. “Hello beautiful. Think you can stand on your own?”

“Urgh...yes, I think so.”

“Splendid. As much as I detest putting you in that wizard’s care, do me a favor and go to him.”

The bard wobbled as she stood on her own, backing away towards Gale. “What do you plan on doing?”

Astarion removed one of his trusted blades from his back. Bringing it to his mouth, he licked the side of it, much like when he smothered his saliva over bitten wounds. “I plan on slicing open the Priestess’s neck. Now stand back—the smell of blood will be in the air soon.”

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Filets of goblin meat were a stark contrast against the erected statues of the temple dedicated to Selûne. Her lifeless face watched the companions as they carved through the vile threats. Ripped sashes of ruby life essence unwound in the drafty camp, splashing the group.

A witness Tav played, as she paid honor to Astarion’s image under the sparks of the wagon wheel chandelier inside the chambers of Dror Ragzlin. He stood soaked in ichor, peering off to his side; a final swoosh of his dagger through the atmosphere, flicking off excess blood. The dance macabre had been sated.

Flags of pure white raised, red fangs and swords embroidered in the middle. The belief of their crusade, a righteous seat upon golden scales. Raise thy sword in the name of murder. Let us pray.

All three leaders: Priestess Gut, the drow Minthara, and Dror Ragzlin—deceased.

“As you can see, ceremorphosis has been halted, as a surprise to all of us. I am not one to tempt fate, but if you cannot heal us, then any guided direction towards someone that could offer assistance would be most appreciated,” Gale explained hastily to the arch druid Halsin they released from the goblin prison.

Halsin casted a yellow glow that coated Gale’s entire body, sensing the mechanisms of the mind flayers. “Illithid tadpoles. Oak Father preserve you all. I’ve studied these for a long time now, without much results. It was the reason I came here, to seek out research. I may not be able to heal you, but I can at least tell you where a mass amount of true souls are going to be infected.”

The druid was large. Almost the size of the bear wild shape they had found him in. He towered over Tav easily. Scars upon his wise face, a set of misty tea irises surrounded by reddish brown hair that wafted of autumn leaves and sandalwood.

The bard was stunned. “You mean they aren’t all being captured upon a ship and given the worm as we have?”

“I’m afraid not. Moonrise Towers is a stronghold ruled by a man named Kethric Thorm in the Shadowlands. Innocents go in and true souls—infected—come out. The lands are dangerous. Anyone that steps foot there is at risk for turning into demonic shades,” Halsin spoke in caution. “You have two options to enter. Through the Mountain Pass or the Underdark. Both come with their own sets of tribulations. The Underdark specifically is home to a Sharran temple.”

Gale faced Tav, speaking in a muffled shallow. “Shadowheart may be quite interested in hearing about that bit of information.”

Focusing on the fine lines of Gale’s crow’s feet lifting upwards, she nodded. Her eyes swooped down to the strange circular marking in the middle of his chest, the way it seemed like tendrils of smoke sneaking up past his clavicle, to the side of his neck. A part of him, he frequently hesitated to speak on. But, being so close to the human man, she wondered what secrets lay under the surface of his skin.

“I know you’re curious about it—the marking, I mean. But, now isn’t the time to explain. Soon. I promise.” He gave her a reassuring compress on her shoulder. Tav nodded again, embarrassed that Gale had caught her staring.

Turning around, two crimson eyes followed her. Coveting and dark.

Thousands of flowers sprouted behind her as she went to him. With her tears, she would bathe his feet; with her hair, she would dry them. His armor drenched in blood, dripping onto the new growths left behind, urging petals open.

Thankful for his earlier care with the priestess, an inspirited hand graced the tips of Astarion’s fingers with delicate plumy touches as she briskly clenched hers around them before turning to leave the chambers.

“I owe you my life ‘Starion,” Tav whispered, peering away from him.

He deceitfully smiled. ”I’m sure there will come a time when I will need your help in return.”

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate tav #baldur's gate #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #tav #astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion acunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #epistles of saints & sinners #bard tav #spawn astarion #female tav #fem!tav

[languajix]

Regarding Hold every memory au!

Since Ghost in this au is shown to have mystic powers and can actively harness it (ie: the geometric shapes on his arms in the first fic and the threads of his bros) what else can he do aside from threads? Can he do smth similar to Donnie’s Ninpo if he pushed himself ? And how did he get that mystic stuff? Did he always have it but never manifested as strongly due to the nature of the 2003 verse (like the dragon thing ) or is this current mystic power a result of his long term exposure in the 2018 verse? Also how do you think his bros will react to their bro’s Mystic powers that he definitely didn’t have before?

Ps: I love your AU so much. Your fics are so well written and characterisation is so good. Ghost in the shell is such a well written story but it’s so, so very sad 😭 its makes me so happy to see a world where is Ghost happier out there. Also sorry for the long ask I’m just extra curious, Ghost being actively aware and sorta using the mystic energy inside him is so interesting and has so much potential hehe. Like imagine a scenario where Ghost/Don in a fit of protective rage either cuz of the tots or his bros or both does a boom of mystic and everyone goes HUH??

Hello!!

I want to start by saying the usual disclaimer that anything I'm about to say applies solely to Hold Every Memory, because the more this AU grows, the more of my own ideas and wishes and things get fed into it.

Also, very little is set into absolute stone until it appears in a HEM story for sure - a lot of the time, as I'm writing, things will spin a little differently than I expect because they need to for character or plot reasons, or words will randomly appear on the screen and I'll learn how things work directly from my subconscious, which is exciting. But still! I have been thinking about this stuff, so I'm really happy to have the opportunity to ramble :D

And don't apologize for the long ask! I loved it! I just hope you don't mind a looooong reply. Lots of stuff in here that some might consider spoilery, as a heads up!

--

I think Don had a groundwork of some different type of mystic potential from his own universe, but environmental exposure to empyrean/mystics over the years, maybe more direct exposure courtesy of Big Mama?, brought it from a latent capability to something much closer to the surface, significantly strengthened it, and shaped it a little to fit his new universe. Connecting to his brothers in the Battle Nexus, that rush of soul energy and powerful love, unlocked it! Battle Nexus went boom.

I think at a base level, he's capable of doing standard mystic stuff - activating and using mystic weapons and devices, like how Splinter could use the ōdachi in "Battle Nexus New York," for example. Casting some spells, too, and using common mystic techniques. If he were to practice or be trained specifically in the use of mystics in battle, he could use it to boost his speed and strength. He'll never be as powerful as a Hamato, though, with that well of ninpō power at their disposal.

Creating the threads wasn't any sort of innate, specialized ability at the time. It was an act of desperation. Don's burst of incredible willpower in that moment shaped his soul and his suddenly active mystic powers in ways they weren't originally made to be used. Over time, though, like stretching a muscle, the threads become central to his mystic 'specialization,' as it were. So if Leo = portals, Raph = energy projections of himself, Don =… connection? Possibly?

(In SAINW, there's a moment where Michelangelo mentions that "without you, it just didn't work," framing Donny as the lynchpin keeping his family together. (I do think it could have happened if any of them had disappeared, but let's focus on Donny for the angst and the parallels here.) And in HEM, Don is the one tying together his old family and his new family. Always at the center.)

If he wasn't constantly stretched between realities and everyone was in the same universe, he'd always know where they were, instinctively. They could be across town or half a world away, but if Don thought about them, his head would turn unerringly in that precise direction. It might include some amount of empathy/telepathy too.

One thing I'm solid on is that he has to come into contact, spiritually or physically, to someone to develop a connection, a thread. It might happen quite quickly and almost thoughtlessly with the counterparts of all his old family and friends upon meeting them, and for any new friends he meets it might happen once he truly considers them family.

(Which makes me think of how funny it would be if he met Foot Recruit and found himself with a spontaneous thread to her, too - who the heck is she supposed to be??? Too late now, though, she's family, whether anybody including her wants her to be or not. Assigned Splinterson-Hamato At First Contact.)

Can he use powers similar to Donnie? He might be a teeny tiny bit of a technopath! I'd like to think that was one of the potential directions his mystic powers could have headed before the threads threw them out of wack. Infusing portals with mystic energy, a little boost when hacking the EPF's bank accounts, etc. Very little things, but enough that he and Donnie can have a little similarity to bond over as a treat.

As for surprising his brothers with his mystic powers, finding out that he had landed in a universe with witches and yokai and superpowers blew their minds, but it was all wrapped up in the overwhelming difficulty of processing that he was alive at all. They know he's been using mystics in the development of his more recent portal attempts, vaguely, but they for sure don't realize/understand the extent of what he can do. There's really no reason for him to use mystic powers in the astral plane, nothing for him to do with them and the real risk of unbalancing the delicate threads, so he just doesn't. I think seeing him use mystic powers for real would delight Mike to no end, all surface-level envy and deep excitement, Raph would think them awesome and possibly want to spar while Don is mystic boosted to see what he can do, and Leo might be proud and fascinated and maybe a little quietly jealous. If - and this is really just something I'm tossing around for fun - if Don could actually pool and distribute mystic energy through his threads, those soul-to-soul connections, then they could all benefit and get a level-up, so no jealousy for long. Honestly I think all the brothers would be super cool with Rise style mystic powers but Mike would make me a little nervous, haha

---

When I was originally starting to bounce this whole thing around in my head, I ended up with a little example snippet of what his powers could look like in practice. The telepathy/empathy bits, at least.

P.S. Thank you so much!!! It sends me over the moon, like full on walking on air for days, to hear when people like my writing style and characterization. I'm still new to putting myself out there in this way, so I stress out over it all way more than I should, and getting this kind of message makes it all worth it :D

I love GitS to death and this AU is born out of the most incredible affection for it. I wouldn't change a single thing about any of it even if I could, all those aching bruises and all, but writing an alternate universe branch where Everything's Beautiful and Very Little Hurts is just cathartic as heck. I'm just glad reading this AU is scratching the same itch for some people that writing it has been!! Because it really is a joy to write.

#hold every memory au #hold every memory unpublished #<-for anyone new here that's the tag I'm using for anything discussing future/unpublished HEM stuff. #(I don't call it 'spoilers' because there is basically no plan or plot to spoil but I do want to give people that option to filter it out) #jix stuff #asks

[folkorae]

❧ ⸻ message from @ironwoven : ❛ what, am i not allowed to look at you? ❜ ( from xaden to feyre )

Honestly, she doesn't understand why he looks at her so much ; Feyre has always known that she attracts people’s eyes but not as much as her two older sisters. The healer didn't understand why Xaden looked at her. Feyre didn't seem to be his type but she'd be lying to herself if she said she wasn't enjoying the attention he was giving her — how much her heart jumped with joy and beat faster just at the sight of him. Could she be falling in love with him ? ( what would Nesta think of this ? about Feyre getting involved with one of her wing cadets ? ) Maybe it's a little early to tell but the effect his words had on her is undeniable. Feyre blushed and pouted. “ You are. But why are you looking at me ? ” She said but soon regretted asking the question.

#this is gonna be interesting haushauhauaha #ironwoven #❧ ⸻ asks . #❧ ⸻ ic / feyre archeron . #❧ ⸻ verses : feyre archeron / the empyrean : we all fight in the best way we can .

[liurniatears]

The Empyrean of the Twilight, Morrigan.

#verse: twilight empyrean #gif #liurniatears edit

[shipmistress9]

Teasing With Serious Consequences

Fandom: Fourth Wing - The Empyrean

Pairing: Xaden/Violet - Riorgail

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Violet is set on getting Xaden to fuck her, no matter how much she has to tease him before he snaps.

@kinktober2023 and on AO3

AN: This is once again a shorter and tamer entry for this Kinktober collection. It's set in the same verse as Part 1 (Not Playing Fair) with Xaden now being an instructor, but also shares some lore with Part 3 (Little Kitten).

. o O o .

“I’d be wearing that dark blue nightgown, the one you like so much, that closes with those ribbons at the front. The last time I wore it, you used your teeth to remove it, remember? And then went down on me for half of the night. Gods, that was so hot. I’d like to keep it on a little longer this time, though. I like how the silk feels against my nibbles.”

“Violet!”

I suppress a giggle and dunk a bit of cauliflower into the sauce before bringing it to my mouth. My eyes flutter shut and I hum at the rich taste of the gravy. So delicious.

Somewhere across the dining hall, silverware clatters onto a plate, and I smirk.

“Or maybe I’d wear one of those full-body stockings you have in that armoire of yours instead,” I muse. “You know, one of those that just hug my body with bands of silk and lace in between. I imagine those would be pretty sexy, with how they highlight every curve but leave nothing to the imagination. I wonder how it feels when you touch me through one of those, with the fabric against my skin. Oh, or you could trace one of those bands with your mouth, aaaall the way down between my thighs. I bet I’d be completely soaked before you even made half of the way.”

In my mind, I hear Xaden growl. “Violet, stop it! Lunch break is almost over, and I can’t go to combat training with a boner.”

This time, the giggling slips past my guard, drawing curious glances from Rhiannon and the others. But I don’t bother explaining; they know about Xaden’s and my telepathic link by now.

I debate showing mercy on Xaden; as an instructor, he should appear professional. But teasing him is just so much fun, and after he edged me for nearly the entire night, I deserve some compensation, right?

“You’re right,” I throw back at him with fake compliance. “And it’s not as if you could fuck me right here on one of the tables to get it out of your system.”

“Violet…” This time, he almost sounds pleading, and I smirk.

“Although, just think of the shocked expression on Dain’s face when you push into—”

Somewhere across the dining hall, a glass shatters and people yelp. I check in with Xaden to make sure that nobody got hurt, then, with a huge grin on my face, take my trey and stand. “Let’s head over to the gym,” I say cheerfully. “Can’t wait for our combat training class today.”

. o O o .

“I mean,” Rhiannon mutters as we stand near the back of the room and supposedly watch Liam and Imogen spar. “I always knew Riorson was hot. That’s basically just a fact. But… damn, Violet? Is he really that packed?”

My lips twitch but I manage to keep them under control as I throw a glance to where Xaden gives instructions to another pair of fighters on the mat in front of him. He looks scrumptious as ever, his muscles clearly visible beneath his black clothes, arms crossed in front of him, and with that line of deep concentration between his eyes that I always want to kiss away.

But that’s not even it today, not the reason why half the class throws glances at him, some blushing and some giggling. It’s the clearly visible bulge at his crotch that keeps drawing everyone’s attention away from his instructions, the outline of his cock more than just guessable.

“Yep,” I quip back at Rhi. “He is.”

As if he was listening in on our conversation, Xaden’s eyes flicker to meet mine and he throws me a half heated and half reprimanding look.

I throw a sweet smile back at him, combined with a memory of me on my knees in front of him, of his hard cock buried deep in my throat, of my muscles convulsing around him as I choke…

His lips press into a thin line and I think I can see his cock twitch, even from the distance.

“Stop it!” he growls into my mind. But we both know that he could shut me out at any moment. The fact that he doesn’t do it speaks volumes.

“Or what? Will you fuck me right here on the floor?”

I know I’ll probably pay for this later, teasing him where he can’t do anything about it, but it’s absolutely worth it when he shifts his weight and his eyes flutter shut for the briefest of moments.

The rest of our training continues much the same. I keep teasing Xaden with more and more graphic images or descriptions while Rhiannon and eventually Ridoc, too, make more and more direct comments about the tent he’s sporting. I really have to give it to Xaden, though; aside from his raging erection, he doesn’t let anything show. I thought at least a dozen times he’d drag me off into some shadowy corner then and there, but to his credit, he kept in control.

Until the end of class.

We’re all filing out of the gym, the next group already waiting, and head over to the flying field, when my feet suddenly get stuck. Glancing down, I spot a slim band of shadows around my ankles, and my eyes flare.

Finally!

“Vi? Are you okay?” Rhiannon cocks her head at me, Ridoc and Sawyer already a few steps ahead.

“Yeah, I…” I lick my lips, thinking about what excuse I could give her. And decide to hell with it. “Go ahead. And tell Kaori I’ll be a few minutes late.” I smirk.

For the fraction of a second, Rhi’s eyes widen, then she grins. “Alright. Have fun, girl.”

“Not sure, fun is the right word,” a voice coming from the shadows to my right murmurs once Rhiannon is out of earshot.

A shiver runs down my spine as I turn to where I know Xaden has to be, somewhere. “Oh, I had a lot of fun so far,” I keep teasing and slip into his cloud of shadows, hidden neatly in a windowless alcove.

He moves me faster than I can comprehend, my back hitting the stone wall, and I gasp. He’s right in front of me, giving me hardly any room to breathe or time to think before his hands wrap around my thighs and he lifts me up, my legs around his hips.

“Don’t you have a class to teach?” I gasp, humming when I feel his bulge grind into me. I don’t care that I can’t see a thing, not when I’m with Xaden.

“They can wait a couple of minutes. This won’t take long. Now, quiet.”

With one harsh motion, Xaden tears at my trousers and they split open at the seam, leaving me entirely exposed in a heartbeat. I yelp when his fingers push into me without a warning, and I have to clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from making more noises. Fuck, this is exactly what I’d hoped for, a quick romp between classes, desperate and messy.

Xaden snorts, though whether in response to my thoughts or to something else, I’m not sure. “You’re wet, good. Wouldn’t want to hurt you.” He withdraws his fingers sooner than I like but thankfully replaces them with his cock in an instant. Had he already been waiting here half-undressed in the shadows?

However, I don’t get the chance to think about that when he spears into me without a warning and my cry of surprise and stinging pleasure only gets silenced by him effectively punching all air from my lungs with that one thrust.

“You think you can play games with me, little brat?” he growls, his lips skimming across the near-black stone on my collar peeking out atop my high-necked vest. “Time to teach you a lesson, then.”

He withdraws his cock, lifting me up to do so, then lets me drop again and thrusts up into me at the same moment.

Fuck! I nearly scream.

It’s jarring, especially when he does it again and again, but also so good. All I can do is bite down on my leather-covered arm to keep from howling until the entire citadel knows what he’s doing to me.

Faster and faster he goes until he’s positively bouncing me on his cock, pounding into me at a harsh and brutal pace. It’s all I can do to somehow be as quiet as I can when some late cadets hurry past our alcove, Xaden not slowing down in the slightest.

“Xaden…” I sob into his mind. Teasing him all day didn’t leave me unaffected either, and this rough fucking is just what I wanted, punishing yet so good, having me dangle on that edge in mere minutes. I knew it wouldn’t take long, but fuckthisissogooood.

In my head, I hear him laugh. “Nu-uh, little brat,” he croons, at odds with his cock pounding my insides and his mouth sucking a bruise against my neck. “Naughty girls don’t get to come on master’s cock.”

I whimper when he groans and pushes even deeper into me, cock twitching as his come spurts into me. I want to come, too, need it, and try to grind against him for that little bit of extra friction against my clit that’ll surely be enough to push me over the edge as well. But even during his climax, Xaden’s grip on my hips is firm, unyielding.

“Oh, please,” I whimper, forgetting to use our bond to speak, and Xaden growls.

“You brought this onto yourself,” he snarls into my head, and his tone vibrates through my entire body, making everything inside me tingle with lust. “Now, back to class. We’ll continue your punishment at a later time.” He pulls out and places my feet back onto the ground, his come leaking down my thighs.

His shadows retreat and I stare down at the mess he made of me. “How… how am I supposed to explain this when I need to get new trousers?”

“Not my problem,” he snarks, sounding almost amused as he walks back to the gym as if he’d only been to the bathroom. “But you should get a change of clothes before you head to the flying field. Even with your saddle, riding could be slightly uncomfortable like this.

“Oh,” he adds, “and no touching yourself. Not until I got the chance to properly punish you tonight.”

I follow him with dazed eyes, my core clenching around nothing. Fuck… this is going to be a looong day…

. o O o .

AN: I have a follow-up planned for this, because, obviously, they aren't done here. But I haven't written it yet, so no promises about when I can post it.

* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - *

I am but a street artist, offering my art to those around me. If you enjoyed it, a tip in the form of a comment and a ❤️would be highly appreciated. 😊 

If you want to leave a tip you can buy me a coffee. I love coffee 😊 (Ko-Fi)

#Riorgail #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober23 #fourth wing #rebecca yarros #the empyrean

[andreal831]

Elijah's Relationships in Songs

Hayley and Elijah

Don't Forget Me - Dermot Kennedy

We know haylijah is my favorite ship and I have so many songs that are perfect for them. Some of them are happy and some sad. This is definitely one of the sad ones. They both were going through so much emotional turmoil while falling in love, it's no wonder that they hit so many obstacles.

But this song sums up their obstacles so well. It's called "Don't Forget Me," and it is perfect on so many layers. Elijah worried Hayley would forget him and start her life with Jackson. Then Elijah erased his memories of everyone and actually did forget Hayley. But through it all, they still loved each other and were drawn together.

Lately I've been living in a dream The past feels like a better place to be The days we spent just sitting by the sea Empyrean skies can't compete with those eyes The colors of that dress you loved to wear The way the sun got tangled in your hair

I wish we could have seen more of Hayley and Elijah living together while she was pregnant. It's impossible to say how long they were living together because Hayley was magically pregnant for like 12 months (the writers and their continuity issues), but it was anywhere from four to eight months. In this time we know that they bonded and considered each other friends. They both wanted more but were didn't pursue it for various reasons.

I always felt like they longed for their days, especially when they were separated by various obstacles. They longed for the time when it was easier and just the two of them. No outside pressures.

I remember everything So why do I I get this feeling like I'm fading from your memory So I wrote this song and called it "Don't Forget Me" Every time you hear it will you smile? And tell the one you're with I was that guy Ooh, even though you had to let me go Don't forget me Just don't forget me

This verse feels so much like how Elijah felt after Hayley married Jackson. He wanted her to be happy and safe but it didn't change how he felt about her. It didn't mean he wanted to sit around and watch her happy with another man either. He was watching her move on from loving him before they even had a chance. Although, she was never truly able to move on.

Elijah encouraged her to move on and focus on Jackson, even though it broke his heart. But he still wanted her to remember what they shared. It made it worse because it wasn't what either of them wanted. They sacrificed their chance to be together to protect Hope.

Every time I think about it now I guess we never really figured out To hold each other through the ups and downs The difficult nights, the times that we cried I hope he knows it's special what he has I hope he thinks it's magic when you laugh

One of the biggest obstacles for them was learning how to support each other. This is truly seen in season 2 when they are both going through such hard times. Neither one of them knows how to be there for each other. But that's what I love about them. They didn't give up, rather learned how to support the other. We see it in later seasons that they are more aware of the other's pain and grow much more supportive. They learn to grow together rather than letting their obstacles stop them.

They had such a healthy and mature relationship that they were able to step back and learn from their mistakes, rather than just making the same ones over and over again.

On that one night, it was so right You were all mine How could we let it go? That one night was my whole life And we stopped time How could we let it go?

This verse goes without saying. They had one night together and they made the most of it. This to me is all of the proof that I need what each of them wanted. Even though they both understood this was all they could have and then she would have to marry someone else to protect her daughter, they still wanted to be together. They had such a small amount of time that they could actually be together but they always took advantage of it because they knew how fragile it all was.

They had such a pure love because it was based on friendship and family. No matter what happened romantically between them, they would still be each other's families. They would still support each other and love each other.

#haylijah #elijah mikaelson #hayley marshall #elijah x hayley #tvdu #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #the mikaelsons #elijah ships song series #tvdu metas #metas #song