#solitudo

[astartesworld-blog]

The little Ant - The Abandoned Place

"Layla, where are we going to sleep tonight?"

"In fact, it's almost time ..."

"Let's try asking for directions."

"Excuse me, miss!"

"I'm looking for an abandoned place, could you tell me one?"

"An abandoned place? You have it in front of you. Would I suit you?"

#dark poetry #laformichina #astartesworld #comics #animemanga #manga #abandoned #solitudine #solitudo #dark

[beluosus]

solitudo urbana

#dark academia #dark acadamia aesthetic #grey academia #dark aesthetic #architecture #london #moodboard #ἐποίησα

[ssslime]

nocte solitudo

his mind tends to wander at night.

➥ astarion x gn!tav, ranger!tav, some angst, a lil comfort, mentions of blood

It wasn’t often Astarion felt rested.

Meditation brought him some reprieve, at least, during nights where the camp’s quiet was only interrupted by the distant buzz of insects and the sound of the trees above them. Sometimes silence was too loud — too thick and heavy for him to relax.

Astarion shifted in his bedroll. His ruby gaze was caught upward, piercing into a little coin-sized hole in the cloth ceiling.

Tav would probably stitch that up quickly, if he asked. They’re good with crafty little things like that, all nimble fingers and a brow furrowed in concentration.

He rolled over.

A shard of light caught in Astarion’s eye for a second. The tiniest bit of moonlight bounced off of his daggers, tossed unceremoniously atop his travel bag in the corner of the tent. Smooth silver gave way to crusted, dark blood and grime near the sharpened tips. Astarion’s lips twitched downward.

He was hungry. He hadn’t fed in a while, and he’d need to hunt something down within the next few nights. Things had just felt hectic as of late — why exactly Tav insisted on helping every dripping wet, sniffling fellow they found on the side of the road, he’d never know. It grated his nerves sometimes, how it seemed they were unable to say no to any sad little sob story fed to them. He would know; it’s worked for him before.

But, Tav would probably help him hunt down some wild boar, or maybe even a bear to hold him off for a while, if he asked. They’re quite the hunter.

He sat up.

Outside, he could hear Scratch idling around. The dog’s eager nose gave him away; sniffing and snorting softly, Astarion knew the pup was poking around their trunk of food nearby. With a sigh, he stood to his feet and parted the curtain door. He wouldn’t be settled any time soon, anyways.

The night air felt cool on his skin as he stepped outside. All was calm, as expected. A crackling, dying fire laid in the center of camp, dimly lighting the area and casting weak shadows along the surrounding tree line. Astarion let his eyes wander over to the white dog some yards away.

Scratch lifted his head and peered right back. His tail swayed lightly back and forth and his ears perked up.

“Hungry, are you?” Astarion asked quietly, looking between the dog and the closed chest. Scratch simply tilted his head to the side, his big, pleading eyes working wonders on the supposed stone cold vampire.

Astarion sighed. “Fine, fine — but nobody hears about this, understood?”

He wasn’t sure why he was talking to a damned dog. He reminded himself of how strange and silly Tav looked whenever they would communicate with animals. It was nearly second nature to them, it seemed, and perhaps that’s what it was — a survival technique, like all their other skills, developed out of necessity. He could relate, and that thought alone made his stomach turn a little.

Thoughts like these came to Astarion at the worst times. Moments where he was free from distraction, with countless minutes under his belt to ruminate and dissect, even when all he wanted was to simply close his eyes and let time pass like sand between his fingers.

He tossed the dog a sausage link. He knew what it was like to have a feast right in front of you, and not be allowed to indulge.

In his mind’s eye, Astarion could picture slinking across the stagnant landscape of their sleepy little camp. Working with the shadows to blend seamlessly into Tav’s patchwork wonder of a tent. Watching their chest rise and fall with deep, steady breath — their lashes flickering just the slightest bit over their cheeks. Feeling their pulse thrum beneath his lips, their breath catching, their hand weaving into the curls at the nape of his neck.

Tav would probably let him feed, if he asked. They’d shared their blood before; succulent and sweet and mind-numbingly warm as it slipped down his parched throat. They’re such a delicious treat.

But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t ask such a selfish thing.

He sighed.

Change is difficult. Surely his life was leaps and bounds better than it was before; no longer did he have to prowl taverns and dark streets for vulnerable prey in the form of drunk and lonely hearts. But this… duality inside of him made him sick. He wished so desperately for things to be different.

He wished they could’ve been another name and face to discard the morning after.

“Astarion?”

He wished he didn’t see parts of himself in them.

“Is everything alright? It’s very late.”

He wished he could be selfish with them, because it’d be so painfully easy. But he couldn’t.

He glanced up, soaking in Tav’s tousled hair and squinted expression as it grew closer. They rubbed one eye with the back of their hand and furrowed their brow, watching him expectantly. Scratch, of course, trotted over happily upon seeing his favorite person, and leaned up against their legs. Tav dropped their hand to rub along the dog’s snout and cheek in a show of idle affection.

“I was just… thinking,” Astarion replied finally. “Feeling a bit restless, I suppose. And what of you, darling?”

Tav blinked their bleary eyes, watching him for a moment before opening their mouth again.

“Would you come lay with me?”

It wasn’t often Astarion felt rested. After 200 years, it was something he was used to. His nights were filled with crushing guilt or staggering loneliness, doomed to wallow in the dark and filth of his seemingly endless existence.

But, perhaps change is a good thing. Perhaps this is what it’s like to be born anew, to shed your old skin in favor of a life newer, better than before. It’s unsettling, it’s sensitive.

Astarion pondered this as he settled in behind Tav. The scent of lavender curled around him as soon as he laid down on their bedroll. He didn’t mind — it had quickly become a source of comfort, whether he’d admit it to himself or not.

“Thank you,” Tav whispered after a few moments of quiet, “it feels better with you here.”

Astarion slid his ruby gaze over to settle on the back of their head. He turned onto his side, weaving his arm under theirs to rest on their waist. Tav relaxed easily into his gentle hold, fitting their bodies together like they were shaped from the same clay.

“You don’t have to thank me, dove. I’m just a few tents away,” he leaned closer, ghosting his lips over their shoulder with a gentle kiss, full of all the warmth and affection he never knew he was capable of before, “all you have to do is ask.”

#navi;astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 #and i oop!!!! #i need him….. that’s all #queued

[koitoureu]

solitudo

#artwork #dark #dark art #dark fantasy #darkness #digital art #illustration #horror art #my artwrok #oc art #horror #my art #art #original art #創作 #自創作 #goth

[anglerflsh]

oh oh oh wait . hi sorry random question came to mind . whats ur favorite ITALIAN word and why ? ^^

cause like . favorite words change from language to language and it tends to be very interesting . for example my favorite word in english is luminity and most other words like it ( luminous , lumine , etc . ) while in turkish its "çınar" , meaning "plane tree" ! its cause it had lots of religious meanings to the people before islam became widespread :> there was one big plane tree believed to hold a sort of power ( ? ) , and people would carry pieces of it around !

whoops . got off track . yeah ^^ favorite italian word ?

mh This is a hard question actually. I think maybe Beatitudine which translates direcly to bliss, deriving from latin in "beatitudo", also used to indicate the, and I quote, "act of man by which he, free and intelligent, comes in possession of the Greater Good (ie. Beatitudine), the ultimate goal to which his nature destined him for"*. It's also a really religious word, as it indicates the state in which angels and saints are - that its main use actually -

The word itself also comes forth in Beati, adjective for someone who has Beatitudine, which means "to be blessed" literally and is a kind of title the church gives before they make you a Saint iirc

in short. beata solitudo, sola beatitudo

#asks #*beatitudo secundum quid #crescentmp3

[lunamagicablu]

Sol, Solitudo, Silentium Sotto l’ispirazione della luce divina( SOL), allontanarsi dal mondo in effervescenza verso la più profonda solitudine (SOLITUDO) e lavorare infaticabilmente in silenzio( SILENTIUM), in segreto e tacere.

Il Mago delle Nuvole

*********************

Sol, Solitudo, Silentium Under the inspiration of divine light( SOL), move away from the world in effervescence to the deepest solitude (SOLITUDO) and work tirelessly in silence( SILENTIUM), in secret and keep silent.

Il Mago delle Nuvole

[meaoptimaamica]

#pain #train #solitudo

#solitude

[plmq]

Solitudo refugium, Numa François Gillet (1868–40)

#Numa François Gillet

[callmelucek]

Solitudo

#lucianart #art #dark art #digital drawing #digital painting #digital art #original art #original character

[lesser-known-composers]

Wilhelm Peterson-Berger (1867-1942) - Symphony No. 5 in B minor ''Solitudo''

Con molto tranquillo, Scherzando vivo, delicatissimo - Allegro moderato, Andante tranqullo - attacca, Allegro molto - Andante molto tranquillo

Norrköping Symphony Orchestra Michail Jurowski

#Wilhelm Peterson-Berger #classical music #Youtube

[insolitoelsker]

Tudo esta tao confuso aqui dentro que me permito ficar so calado... O mundo em que habito em mim me tranquiliza pelas certezas que me trago a solitudo é meu desejo mas minhas emoções me arrastam aos que amo e me faz querer despojar de tudo que nos é trazido...

Mas as vezes me sinto sozinho, dançado numa festa enquanto todos olham e riem dos meus passos, sigo a maior parte das vezes me sentindo invisível e de alguma maneira sempre estão a espreita pra me apontar um erro ou defeito, eles tentam justificar minhas ações pelo que eles descrevem e não pelo que luto tanto para expressar, o quanto batalho pelo espaço onde me exponho e me deixo nu, mas sempre há algo por trás, motivações, sentidos e emtendimentos que a pessoa trás consigo e não me dis redpeito... eu já fui assim também, ainda tenho minhas pressunções e inseguranças, maa eu me permitp te conhecer por quem é e me permito ser eu mesmo... mas há sempre a alteração da imagem que luto tanto para credinilizar...

Acho que isso é aquele vazio de identidade que eu cresci temo, outras pessoas definindo o que era, pensava e sentia e em maior parte não me deixavam se quer explicar algo ja tao bem explicado... meus motivos.

É exatamente ease ponto que me faz me sentir inexistente e desvencilhar-se do meu eu... ser o people pleasing que me rege...

E então se explica o tal apego pela solitude, na minha propria luta de alcançar meus próprios sentimentos e propositos, sentidos, eu encontrei algo que em mim me trás forças, por mais que seja difícil e o velho habito de me culpar e me depressiar bata forte na porta, há algo novo e antigo em mim que me abraça em meio a tudo isso...

Normalmente eu daria mérito a outras pessoas, mas a melhor sensação que eu tive em tempos foi a de dominar mrus sentimentos e me apropriar deles, quase que vesti-los em uma forma de arte... se algo nasceu em mim esse algo não foi o amor que tenho por quem mais amo hoje, foi o meu próprio, a fonte dos que se devide em cada serzinho que amo, eu a encontrei e mergulhei de cabeça, posso ate soar narcisista e isso eu repito bastante atualmente, mas eu nunca provei algo tão bom e nem quero, me sinto em um lugar do qual não vou querer sair pra procurar um melhor, tudo em mim me vem de testemunha, cada minuto vivido, cada história desacreditada, tudo que vivi e vi, tudo que fiz e tentei fazer... olhando do meu proprio prisma que é o unico que posso usufluir, eu me sinto bem comigo mesmo e cheio de medo de uma tragedia acontecer já que no fim, todos e tudo te volta contra isso, contra si mesmo.

Pra finalizar esse redemoinho de sentimentos, eu me vejo aqui por completo e admiro, preso pelo que se criou entre eu e você, você foi um presente e tudo de bom e lalalal e tals... tudo que ja escrevi sobre você aqui, mas a melhor coisa que você me trouxe foi exatamente essa visão, a localização da minha fonte, foi eu te amar tendo plena certeza que nada queria com você, além do que ja temos e do que naturalmente há de vir... soube o que é o meu amor sem interferência de suas opiniões e há de ninguém, eu me validei e aprovei esses sentimentos de forma racional como nunca.... você é alguém ideal para de admirar, amar, gostar, se apaixonar e desejar... mesmo que nada do que isso trás aconteça eu não preciso me mártirizar por isso, essa é minha maneira de amar! Esperando somente a presença e msda mais, tendo limites e vontades que se não foram ouvidas não permito a intimidade... sabendo quem eu sou e do meu juizo, para nenhuma culpa em intenção de dependência me domine...

Eu so realmente entendi que nada em mim e do que eu faço, precisa por obrigação agradar a qualquer ser humano a não ser a mim e vendo isso, mesmo basbacado eu apenas já sinto vontade de dizer.

Eu amo todos vocês ♡

[sinapsimagazine]

Solitudo, una storia da incubo raccontata da Giancarlo Piccolo

Un racconto reale che diventa un thriller mozzafiato. Questa la miscela che rende esplosivo “Solitudo. L’Abisso della Fenice”, il romanzo di Giancarlo Piccolo che ha riscosso consensi nella presentazione di San Giorgio a Cremano. Il lavoro, edito dalla Coltura Edizioni, è disponibile in tutte le librerie d’Italia, su Amazon e su tutti i canali di vendita online. Giancarlo Piccolo rompe gli…

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[lunamagicablu]

Sol, Solitudo, Silentium

Sotto l’ispirazione della luce divina

( SOL), allontanarsi dal mondo in effervescenza verso la più profonda solitudine (SOLITUDO) e lavorare infaticabilmente in silenzio

( SILENTIUM), in segreto e tacere. Il Mago delle Nuvole art by_tutifruiti1511 ******************* Sol, Solitudo, Silentium

Under the inspiration of divine light

(SOL), move away from the effervescent world towards the deepest solitude (SOLITUDO) and work tirelessly in silence

(SILENTIUM), in secret and in silence. The Cloud Wizard art by_tutifruiti1511 

[meaoptimaamica]

Solitudo #suitcase

For @margotton-blog

#tltdy.tv #solitude

[lavender-and-rhododendron]

Solitudine

solitudine solitùdine s. f. [dal lat. solitudo -dĭnis, der. di solus «solo»]. – 1. La condizione, lo stato di chi è solo, come situazione passeggera o duratura: amare, desiderare, cercare, fuggire, temere [...] , affettivo e sim.: vivere in s., nella più nera s.; trascorrere la vecchiaia in s.; sentire il peso, o la tristezza, della propria (dizionario Treccani).

In questi giorno ho pensato molto al fatto di essere sola, o forse di sentirmi sola. E non riuscivo a capire se la mia fosse una solitudine di fatto o semplicemente una percezione derivante dalle tante difficoltà, impegni e delusioni di questo periodo. Quindi sono andata a cercarla sul dizionario e, sì, posso dire che la mia è sicuramente una condizione, spero passeggera, di chi è solo. Paradossalmente sono circondata da persone che mi chiedono come sto, che cosa faccio e che mi vogliono bene. Sono circondata, non del tutto, da affetto ma comunque mi sembra di guardarmi, dall'esterno, e di vedere un lavello con il rubinetto aperto. Tutte le cose belle, le gentilezze, i gesti di amore, le dimostrazioni di interesse scivolano attraverso lo scarico aperto, non transitano nemmeno per un secondo. Vanno via e l'acqua continua a scorrere e io rimango sempre un lavello vuoto.