#'we'll be fine without a healer' they were NOT fine without a healer

[ludicrousladybug]

It's Always Sunny In Ferelden

[shanastoryteller]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN GRANDMA!! You already know what I want, nay, what I crave when the days get shorter and the only thing that brings me any solace is my favorite rarepare. Please, Tonks x Percy siat - specifically something abouth Tonks telling Percy about her powers maybe, just an incredibly intimate scene please and thank you 😩🧡

The first time Percy rushes to the St. Mungo's on the heal of a battle and bursts into Tonk's room, he doesn't understand why he'd needed to threaten his way in in the first place. She's stripped to her underwear and looks perfectly fine.

But there are three healers surrounding her and completely ignoring him. "Time?" the oldest asks, her hair pure white and her face a layer of wrinkles.

Tonks closes her eyes. "Eighty seconds."

"External first," she says briskly. "It doesn't do us any good if you bleed out."

She breathes out.

Then blood floods across her body, soaking the bed instantly as wounds big and small erupt over her skin. In some places he sees flashes of what he thinks are bone.

Tonks doesn't scream as magic starts flying, and he doesn't either, keeping himself plastered to the wall.

"Internal," the healer says.

What little of her skin he can see beneath the blood pales and they're casting more healing spells, longer and more complicated the any he's heard before.

"Head," she says. "Go slow."

Tonks swallows and then there's another rush of blood as her eyes roll and she passes out and all three of the healers are flinging spells with a speed and intensity he didn't know was possible.

He's almost grateful that he can't see what injury they're treating.

Then the other two step back and the old healer casts a diagnostic spell that Percy tries to interpret and can't. Her shoulders drop and she says, "Good," casting a scourgify to take care of the blood and pulling the blanket over her with a flick of her wand.

She turns, noticing Percy for the first time. Instead of anger, she just raises an eyebrow. "You're the boyfriend, then?"

He really hates what that implies about how often Tonks needs to be treated by healer quite this talented. "Is she going to be okay?"

His stomach had twisted itself in nots but it finally starts ease when she gives a short nod. "We'll let her get some rest and keep her overnight from observation." She tilts her head to the side. "I'd kick you out, citing the no visitors policy for this ward, but you're already here. Seems like a big of wasted effort."

"A bit," he agrees, pulling a chair next to Tonks's bedside and collapsing into it. "Thank you."

~

Tonks wakes up slowly, feeling the hospital sheets that she hates with the smell she can't stand and she's already trying to figure out how she can get herself released early without bringing Nanu's wrath down on her.

She pushes herself upright - or tries to. She can't mover her arm.

She looks down, alarmed, but her arm is just being used as a pillow.

By Percy, who's asleep and hunched over her bed. Percy, who needed to be coaxed and cajoled into leaving his desk for so much as a tea is here. He doesn't even have any scrolls or work spready out. She wouldn't blame him if he didn't, but he's just here, and from the way his clothing's rumpled he's been here for a while.

Tonks's heart feels so full.

She's going to marry him.

He only just accepted that they were dating, so she'll give him some time before introducing the concept of marriage, but she knows. This man is going to be her husband someday.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

How about reader, who is a seasoned gamer, invites Gaz to play something like Valorant or Fortnite etc. She says "dw it took me a while to get good too" but he picks it up stupid quick. He spends the rest of the time enjoying winding her up more than the actual game.

absolutely absolutely. gaz can and should get away with everything.

1,833 words / lucky number 13

...

"Gaz... you know most people play video games to escape their responsibilities."

"So you've told me." Gaz's voice crackles over your headset.

You're staring at your screen, watching as he confirms his character selection in the game's lobby. "You're absolutely sure you want to play tank?" you ask him.

He locks in his character, and it appears in the pregame lobby: a bald-headed, square-jawed guy with a muscular build and heavy armor.

"Positive. You're playing healer, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm playing tank. Pocket me."

"You've never even played this game. We'll both get obliterated."

"Come on. How hard can it be? Shoot, use ability, reset. I take the damage; you heal me; I dish it back out; we win; you thank me for carrying you as always. It's just like our usual game."

"Repeat that last one. I think your mic cut out on account of the bullshit."

"You don't think I can keep the heat off you?"

"I don't need you to keep the heat off me. I just want you to have fun and not die in the first five seconds of the round," you tell him. He did buy this game specifically to play it with you. After a totally reasonable amount of prodding on your part. It's been your go-to for weeks.

"Then pocket me and I won't die. I'm not having fun if I'm not in the thick of it. You know me."

"Fine. For one game."

"Bet," Gaz says, sounding smug about it. "I'm not gonna disappoint."

During that first game, he's getting his bearings. But he takes to it rather intuitively, especially with your help over voice chat. His tactical skills are whip-sharp as always. As you pocket him, you focus your character's abilities on keeping Gaz alive. But you switch to upping his damage output when you realize he's holding down a choke point by himself, taking on enemies and laying out a field of fire for your team. It's impressive, considering this is his first time playing the game.

When an enemy sneaks up on you, his pocket healer, he disposes of them with slightly more prejudice.

"You're pretty good at this," you tell him, scanning the results screen. "I mean, maybe mid-tier if you were on your own."

"Mid-tier?" he says, a little affronted. "It's called being adaptable. Not that you'd know. Hundreds of hours in this game and you're mid-tier support at best."

You cross your arms, leaning back in your computer chair. "Because I don't play support. You know what? I'm switching to DPS. See what you carry without me patching your ass up every ten seconds."

Back in the lobby, you select your main. Gaz eyes the character with a bit of respect. "A rogue, huh? You must think you're pretty good. Gonna need a lot more healing."

"Only if I get hit."

"I could sponge that damage right up for you. Keep you nice and safe."

You scoff. "Won't need it."

"Let's see."

In the next round, you weave in and out of combat, gleefully dodging attacks and landing devastating blows before you disappear. Your bread and butter. Meanwhile, Gaz does--at worst--an admirable job tanking. Still, when you look back and see enemies surrounding him, it's clear he could use an assist.

You double back and flank two of the enemies on him, picking them both off one by one. But before you can gloat, his voice in your headset interrupts you.

"Good kills, baby."

That's not the reaction you wanted. It immediately ticks you off. "I know."

He chuckles and takes down another enemy. He's tunneling in on the fight now that you've got him back on his feet, but clearly he still has time to talk to you. "Can't take a compliment."

The face that he's purposely pushing your buttons just irritates you more.

The next few games, he makes himself indispensable as a tank. It should be a good thing, but he keeps getting in your way specifically. You'd swear it's on purpose. He tanks hits for you and then acts like you'd lose the game without him. His cockiness is insufferable. Worse--you can't ignore how deftly he's scaling the difficulty curve here. He's holding the attention of the enemy players, keeping them away from you while you deal the damage. And you'd never admit it, but the way he's holding aggro is saving your ass.

You shouldn't need him to do that, though. You tell yourself the only reason you're not playing better is because he's forcing you to maneuver around him.

Then he offs the enemy rogue right as you're finishing her off. You swear into the mic. "Gaz, come on! You stole my kill."

"I'm giving my little rogue the help she needs. Besides, you know it's not about getting the most kills. It's about the team's collective score," he teases, and you have to remind yourself it's just a game.

It's like he can tell exactly what to do to piss you off in record time after that. Bossing you around, telling you to take this point or make that kill. He even pipes up once to remind you it'd be a good time to use your ult. You open your mouth to tell him it's not ready yet, but to your chagrin, you glance down and realize it is. Somehow he's keeping track? Unreal.

You're a little impressed about that one, but you'd never tell him. In your defense, he's distracting you with all this banter and teasing. He's making it hard to focus.

"No backseat gaming," you tell him.

"Wouldn't have to backseat game if you played better."

"I would be playing better if you weren't crowding me!" You sigh out your nose. "You're only doing this to get a rise out of me. Micromanaging me. I swear you get off on it."

"You're giving me too many opportunities to obsess over you." He sounds smirky.

The way he says it makes something in your lower stomach flip. You lose focus for half a second--long enough for the enemy rogue to slip past Gaz and smack you.

Gaz slams into her with his shield to stun her, then spins around and uses his special to deal more damage. That last hit downs her. You don't even have a chance to react.

His voice in your headset is smug still. "Like I said."

"Fine. Thanks."

"You can thank me by not dying again."

After the game, you sit back in your chair, arms crossed. "You sure talk a lot of shit."

"Am I?" You hear him grinning. "I hoped you'd give me a little more attitude than that."

"Oh, I know. You're not subtle."

"Neither are you. You get riled up so easy."

"You want me to fight you? Because it sounds like you'd rather me just roll over and bite the damn curb."

"No, you want that. You're a masochist."

"Thank you."

"It isn't a compliment."

"I know. Keep bullying me," you snark into your mic.

It's hard to resist teasing you when you say stuff like that. "Okay," he says, his tone turning playful. He leans back, crosses his legs, and situates himself in his chair. The game's results screen idles on his monitor, forgotten. "You've gotta stop making it so easy for me, though."

"I get that a lot."

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart."

"Ooh, are we doing condescension now?"

"I've been condescending to you since minute one. I can turn it up if it's not obvious enough."

"Keep going and I'll get off."

"Off voice chat, you mean?"

You smirk. "No."

He smiles, rolling his shoulders back. "I can absolutely be more condescending to you if that's what your incompetent little heart desires."

You laugh. "You were just waiting to bring that one out, weren't you?"

"I've got several of them tucked away just in case you got mouthy, But let's be honest--you're always mouthy."

"You're one to talk. You talked hella trash that last match."

"Only because I had to pull your ass out of the line of fire all the time. If you were better, I wouldn't have to. You're giving me ammunition, here."

"I just think it's telling that you play tank."

"Are you saying I'm compensating for something?"

"You said it. Not me."

He rolls his eyes, smirking. "You want to talk about projecting? You're the masochist, and you play a rogue? The one class known for being fragile? You're putting a target on your own back. What does that say about you?"

"Better than a tank main," you quip.

"I'm taking all the hits so you can DPS your way to getting play of the game. Makes me sound proper generous."

You examine your nails. "Makes you sound like a control freak."

"Why don't you look me in the eye and say that? Turn on your cam."

Your grin widens. "Gaz, please. If I turned my webcam on every time some guy online asked me to, I'd never have time to play."

He leans forward, lowering his voice. "Who says I'm kidding? Come on, baby. Give me eye contact. Look me in the eye and tell me I'm a control freak."

"Nope." You know he hates that you're not budging.

"Why? Aren't you decent?"

"More like I have Cheeto dust all over my hands."

"Doubt that."

"It's true."

"Come on. Prove it."

"See? Control freak."

"Fine, I'm a control freak--withyou. But you like it, don't you?"

"Oh, I love when you order me around. I love knowing exactly what you want me to do so I can avoid doing it forever."

He sits back in his chair and stares through his screen. It's not like he's never seen your face before. You've posted a selfie or two in shared chats. But he's never seen you cozied up in your pajamas. Or in a cute little robe. Or maybe a big t-shirt, the soft kind. Like he wears.

Yeah, he's realizing he's down bad. Worse than he thought.

"You wanna make the next round more interesting, then?" he asks.

You arch a brow, propping your sock-covered feet up on your desk. "Like how?"

"You lose, you turn on your camera, obviously."

You snicker. "I don't know what you think I get up to on a Friday night, but you're gonna be sorely disappointed." You pop another Cheeto in your mouth, knowing he'll hear it crunch.

Gaz laces his fingers behind his head. "I've already curbed my expectations. Bet you're sitting around in sweats and a hoodie with some anime character on it." Not that the thought of that isn't appealing. He suspects you don't let many people see you that way.

"You're... uh..." You look down at what you're wearing. "Not far off, actually."

"I know, baby. I've seen your Discord handle."

"So what if I win?"

"Then I won't tell anyone how hard you got stomped these last few rounds. And trust me, I'd be telling everyone. It's embarrassing how much of a load you were. Don't take that the wrong way, though--by all means, just sit there looking cute while I carry this next game."

"Oh, you're on."

Gaz grins, leaning forward. "Yeah, we'll see how cocky you are when I put you back in your place."

You pull your chair back up to your desk, hands poised over your mouse and keyboard. "Promises, promises."

Gaz readies up, too. "Don't worry, baby. I'll keep my word. But once I humble you, you're gonna regret ever doubting me."

...

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[somewhereincairparavel]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could write Jason x daughter of Apollo reader who’s always overworking herself at the infirmary

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when the skies are gray"

author's note: I intended it to be full fluffy but I made it hurt comfort instead, I hope you don't mind <3

Jason hadn't seen you in days…. recently the infirmary was packed with patients, Jason literally being one of the dozens. The apollo healers were at their peak of pressure. You were performing stitches while the others were performing surgeries. After all the chaotic rush cooled down a little, you told Will to take some rest, while you checked off the list of patients that were admitted in your notepad.

That was when Jason stepped inside the infirmary, you didn't even notice until jason vigorously back hugged you.

“What?” You snapped, you were exhausted and didn't really want to see anyone at the moment, not even your boyfriend. Jason pulled out a bouquet of sunflowers, smiling brightly while giving them to you. What a sweetheart.

Unfortunately, you had too much coffee and that made you cranky.

“thanks. Put them in the vase.” You said, not taking your eyes off of your notepad while aloofly gesturing to the empty vase on your desk.

You felt Jason frown genuinely. He put the flowers inside the vase as you asked him too, which you did albeit a little coldly. But he knew you were stressed out, so he didn't think much of it. He put a hand on your shoulder gently and moved closer to whisper in your ear.

“sunshine, don't you think you should be taking a break? You look exhausted and you didn't show up to dinner yesterday, have you even eaten? Be honest please” he asked in concern

You always loved Jason's worried mom behavior because you thought it was endearing, but today, the pressure levels of the past few days, witnessing your siblings in distress because they failed to save one patient, watching fellow campers in physical pain, just got too much, that you snapped.

“I am FINE Jason! Just because I didn't show up yesterday does not mean I didn't eat. Have you considered the possibility that I had food sent to me over here in the infirmary? Gosh.. can't you see I'm busy? Why are you so overbearing? Leave me alone, please.” you regretted your words the moment they spilled out. Jason looked like a kicked puppy, as a flash of hurt went through his eyes. But they disappeared almost immediately as his eyes were replaced with steely coldness.

“I was just checking on you, babe. because I was worried.....tell me how many of your friends have actually come in to see how you were, the past week?” He asked, with a dangerously calm and steady voice, staring at you deeply while making a very fair point. That's what happens when you were raised in the most unemotional camp ever. You switch back to your old ways.

You looked at him a little stunned, and were unable to respond to his question. Because you had no answer. Nobody apart from your siblings had come to check on you, up until Jason arrived.

“Exactly. So if you think that me caring about my girlfriend’s health and being worried about her is “overbearing” then fine. If you continue to push me away when I clearly mean well, then so be it. I hope you like the flowers, and please, for the love of god, get some rest. We'll talk when you're feeling less mad” he added.

But this time, you could've sworn that his voice was shaky and that broke you. You had never said mean stuff to him like this before, and this time, it had clearly affected him. He had done nothing but be sweet to you. Even now, he was talking you calmly without telling at your outburst.

You watched miserably as Jason walked out of the infirmary. Tears slipped out of your eyes as you reached your breaking point of the week. You had officially pushed away the one person who loves you more than anything. Simply because you were stubborn to hear him out.

It was currently 1:00 AM, and you finally collected yourself to go apologize to Jason. You needed to fix what you broke before it was too late. You found yourself staring at the flowers he'd oh so happily given you before you ruined his mood.

You tentatively stepped into his cabin, trying to make as less noise as possible. You couldn't wait until morning for this, you missed him to death. Jason was sleeping quietly, he was never the one for snoring, he wasn't a deep sleeper either, so every time you had even accidentally brushed against him, he'd wake up with a jolt.

You gently got into his bed, and wrapped your arms around him from behind while burying your face into his hair. This time though, he didn't wake up with an alert jolt. Instead, he took your hands and tightened your grip around himself.

“You're awake?” You whispered to him curiously.

“Well, what do you think?” Jason whispered back, the smile in his voice evident. He turned around to face you, and you held his cheeks with both your hands, softly stroking them. He was staring at you, this time, any trace of coldness had vanished. You took a few seconds to admire his gorgeous eyes before you spoke.

“Jason… I'm sorry… I didn't mean anything I said. I really didn't.. I was just feeling cranky about how shitty my week had been, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you.. I had no right, especially not when you were so sweet abou-” you were cut off with his lips pressing on yours.

“That's okay, love. I know you didn't mean it, I just wanted to give you space to think everything through. I was never mad. Just upset that you were overworking yourself too much.” he replied after pulling away.

You teared up again.

“I love you so much.” You said, pressing your forehead onto his. He smiled brightly.

“I love you too. Now, do you want to talk about how you've been feeling? You need it, Let it out babe. I'm always here.”

Both of you spent the rest of the night, talking about each other's feelings and cuddling. Jason felt fulfilled as he saw you peacefully napping, getting the rest you deserve.

“Sweet dreams, sunshine.” He whispered, kissing your hair.

[dandelion-wings]

In the classic 'warmups that ate my whole writing session,' have some not-so-baby Kaeya (he's like fourteen here, but still fairly newly-come to the Dawn Winery) from yet another AU @theabysscomeshome and I were kicking around on Discord yesterday. >> I like the Dawn Winery family vibes, okay.

---

They have a lot of trust to rebuild after the incident. Master Crepus says that they need to start with more focused language lessons, so that they can actually explain to Kaeya what's going on. Adelinde does understand where he's coming from, but she thinks it needs to be a little more basic than that.

Fortunately, Kaeya seems to have latched onto her as the safest person around: domestic, slight of build, without a Vision and apparently not combat-trained. He doesn't have to know what the head housemaid has taught her to do with kitchen knives (or what she has done with them for Master Diluc, the once, and what she would gladly do for him). She takes care to be always gentle with him, to keep her voice soft, to reinforce that perception of safety. To make her someone he doesn't feel he has to flee.

Master Crepus looks sorrowful every time Kaeya ducks behind her when he enters the room. He understands why, though, and he doesn't press. There's time enough for Kaeya to re-learn how kind he, too, can be. For now, Master Crepus reassigns Adelinde from all her other duties. Taking care of Kaeya is one of only two she has to concern herself with. Keeping watch on him is the other.

He *was* the other half of the incident, after all. What he did cannot happen ever again.

Despite that reassignment, Adelinde carries on with some of a housemaid's work, picking and choosing whatever seems to suit Kaeya's needs that day. It means she spends a lot of time in the kitchen. He may not trust them, but putting temptation in front of him long enough does induce him to eat. And everyone from the Cathedral's healers to the fieldworkers agree that he absolutely needs to be fed.

"Two cups of flour," Adelinde tells him, showing him the bag, then each scoop, as she measures it into the bowl. Formal language lessons are all well and good, but she knows that the expensive Akademiya tutor isn't teaching him this vocabulary. That he can see in the process that she's not putting anything harmful into the food is just as important.

(That first potion was, she thinks, a terrible idea. It was absolutely necessary; the Mages' taint *had* to be cleared, or it might have killed him or worse. And there was no way to tell him in words why it was given, or what the effects would be. But they never should have slipped it into his food.)

"Salt," she goes on, showing him the block. "We'll scrape some off. That's enough. Then we'll cut in the butter, and the lard. You want to taste that? It won't taste good, but all right. Now we sprinkle milk over it as we knead it together. I'll do that. Do you want to start chopping the meat?"

No one else would approve of giving him a knife, which is why Adelinde has cleared out a small side-kitchen instead of working in the main one. The thing is, he knows full well he's under watch. She sees how he flinches whenever someone looks so much as alarmed at his behavior. He's afraid of being hurt, again, if anyone even thinks he's trying more magery. How can he think otherwise, with his burns still healing and Sir Jean checking in almost daily on Diluc's behalf? It's not as if his fears are groundless. If he attempts another Abyssal ritual, they'll have to do *something* to stop him.

If they want him to trust them, they need to demonstrate that they're willing to trust him in exchange. So, the knife. Adelinde isn't ready to turn her back on him yet while he's holding it, but she'll do that eventually, too. For now it's no surprise that she isn't when she's working at the same counter and all that they'll need is already arrayed in front of them.

She rolls out the pastry and divides it out into the pie pans while he chops the meat fine and dumps it into the bowl. Then, after making him wash his hands, she presents the spice rack before him. "What do you want to put into this?"

For this, she gives him is the appropriately-sized spoon and free rein. The pies may come out oddly-tasting this way--they have before--but he knows by now what she does use, and she wants to let him experiment. He tastes a bit of each spice, thoughtfully, mixes them in his hand and tries various combinations, and finally pours scoops of each one he's chosen into the bowl. Adelinde watches him out of the corner of her eye as she whips the eggs, but he doesn't do anything she'd have to scold him for--dumping a whole spice jar in, or licking his finger and sticking it into a jar to taste, or touching the meat and then a jar. He's so much more careful with food than Master Diluc ever was.

Pouring the eggs in, she offers him the spoon. "Do you want to stir?"

He does. Adelinde watches as he mixes it all together, then pours it into the pastry herself before showing him how to fold the tops up. Then into the oven--he stays well back from the heat--and she makes them both hot cocoa while they wait for them to bake. He huddles over his mug like he expects it to be taken from him. Or tampered with.

(*How* she wishes they hadn't put that potion into his food.)

She takes the pies out herself and puts them on the cooling rack, pretending not to notice Kaeya scraping the last, dregs of cocoa from the pot while her back is turned. He never tries to ask for more

than he's offered, and that's from more than just the language barrier; he's expressive enough in his gestures when he wants to be. Someday she'll be able to tell him that he can have as much as he likes. For now, she'll let him get away with all his pilferage.

And make more hot chocolate while the pies are cooling, of course.

By the time they've finished the second pot, they're cool enough to eat without burning his mouth. Adelinde gets out a plate, then pauses, a thought occurring to her. Instead of loading it up herself, she hands it to Kaeya, then steps back, gesturing towards the rack. "How many do you want?"

The look he gives her is eloquently disbelieving. She can almost hear the question: surely she's not telling him to take the whole batch. There's no way to explain to him yet that she *would* let him have it all if he wanted, and hope he had the sense to save some for later rather than give himself the stomachache, but that's not the point. Right now she just wants to give him a choice.

She's expecting him to simply take a pie or two, readying herself to smile and nod in approval so he knows he's not taking too much. Instead, he looks at the rack, clearly counting off, then looks at her and says, with tremendous care, "I want... two?" He holds up two fingers as he says it.

It's the first time he's actually tried to answer her in Mond. Adelinde beams at him.

"Yes, you can have two," she says. "Or more. Three, or four, or five," she adds, holding up her fingers in turn, because she doesn't know whether 'more' is a word he's learned yet, nor any of the numbers. "As many as you want."

Kaeya studies her for a moment as if looking for a trap, then says, "I want four."

"You can have four." Adelinde gestures again towards the rack, encouragingly. "Choose whichever ones you like."

He takes the pies, quickly, before she can take the offer back, and then returns to the little table in the corner and hunches over them. Adelinde takes three pies for herself. She only really wants one, but she hopes that this way he won't think he's over-indulging; she can manage two, and wrap the third in her napkin as demonstration, so that if he does end up finding he's taken too much he'll know it's all right to keep for later.

She compliments his spice choices as they eat, though privately she thinks the rosemary was too much. Kaeya unhunches, slowly, once he's wolfed the first two down and finds himself working his way more slowly through the third. He's looking uncertainly at the fourth when Adelinde finishes her own second pie. She deliberately wraps hers in her napkin and tucks it into her pocket, making sure he's watching. He wraps his own, watching her as she does it and relaxing further when she nods.

"I want... one more?" He holds up a finger, again, and the wrapped pie in the other hand, and Adelinde smiles and nods at him before rising to get him another napkin. Kaeya pockets them and looks satisfied. Then he looks up at her and, again in Mond, says something that from the intonation he must have learned in his formal lessons. "Thank you."

Something warm swells in Adelinde's chest. "You're welcome," she tells him, and on impulse holds her arms out wide. He steps forward into the hug, tentative at first, then clinging tight when she pulls him in against her. She pretends not to notice how he's shaking and simply holds him until he chooses to let go.

It feels like a first step forward, after all their steps back. She's so, so proud to be part of it.

[idkwhatimdoing27]

Neteyam x fem! reader "Love like you...."

Part 1

Part 2

"What do you mean leaving?"

"See, I know you are mad. I-I get it, seriously" he took your hands into his own trying to clam you down. You tried looking up, trying to keep the tears from falling. "Neteyam do you have any idea what you are saying?? Leaving the place when you were born and bought up, the place that is your home? You don't get it, h-how can you think I'll be okay without you? If you are going so will I. *No arguments on it*" Neteyam let out a sigh you voice as Stern leaving no arguments, he knew it won't be easy to convenience you. He could feel you, he didn't want to leave you either, he couldn't live without you, you were his mate afterall but if he wanted to protect you he had to let you go. "Y/n, listen to me, please" taking your hands in his, he was looking at you pleading for you to listen, the look in his eyes, nobody could resist it, not even you. Looking into his eyes you nodded for his to continue. "It's we that they want, we'll be in harms way constantly, I know it, where ever we go they'll find us and I don't want you to get hurt, please" you snatched your hands away from him moving back. "You might as well kill me" venom was laced in your voice, before he could respond you had already left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day was harder for you than expected, you were feeling sick for no reason, a little tired, maybe it was because last night you didn't get any sleep, maybe because you were not used to sleeping on the ground in your mother's tent or maybe because you could not sleep without neteyam, but it was okay. Now everyday will be like this. You didn't want to go to your shared tent but you so desperately wanted to know if he was okay. Making your way towards your tent you could feel a strong scent come of there, it was kind of familer but so different at the same time. You saw Neteyam cooking something.

"What are you doing?"

He flinched hearing your voice, not expecting you to be there.

"This? I was just cooking (favourite food) to apologise." He said smiling sheepishly.

"(Favourite food)?" You came near taking a closer look but the scent was took strong. You felt like throwing up, you ran out making him worried. "Yn are you-oh shit!" He held your hair back and patted your back soothingly, trying to comfort you.

"Are you okay? Do you have a fever? Did you not sleep properly?" You were bombarded with concerned questions as soon as you stopped throwing up. "CALM DOWN NETEYAM! I am fine" still he didn't stop and that's how ended up in the healers tent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Neteyam was pacing outside the tent waiting for the healer to check you. "Calm down bro, your girlfriend is alright" he slapped lo'ak's hand away from him. "You didn't see her at that time, she was throwing up so badly." Lo'ak sighed, his older brother was a lovesick mess. "Everyone gets a food poisoning something, don't worry she'll be fine. Come back soon, dad wants to speak with you" saying this Lo'ak was off on his way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where are you taking me?"

"What happened? Tell me? Are you alright?"

"Why won't you answer?"

"Yn??"

"Shut up would you? Just follow me"

You led him deeper into the forest, somewhere were nobody could interrupt you.

"Okay, we are here." You smiled

"Where are we?" He looked confused before the realisation hit him. "You don't know where this is either do you?"

"I was just trying to lead you to a beautiful spot I found a few days ago but I think I forgot the way there." He chuckled but suddenly remembered the visit to the healer. "Are you alright Yn? What did he Healer say?" You slowly took his hands and put them on your abdomen, smiling "Do you feel it Neteyam? I-I am pregnant" the way his eyes lit up and this smile became impossibility bigger,the way he cheered. You will never forget it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wrapped your arms tighter around Neteyam's waist and burried your face in the crook of his neck as you both flew on his ikran. Silent tears rolled down your cheeks. Saying goodbye to your mother was horribly painful, but you couldn't say goodbye to Neteyam, not when you were destined to be together forever.

You looked back one last time at your home, where you grew up, where you had all the special moments of your life, where you had first met Neteyam, where you used to play when you were younger, everything flashed before your eyes. But you knew that you'll be fine. You would be fine as long as you had Neteyam's love and care. Forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Further parts are coming up, I'm planning to post it on wattapd as soon as I finish it completely

[offworldlamb-writes]

Day 21! We've done worse is today's #fictober24 prompt!

Fanfiction today! More Stardew Valley, though not specific to The View From the Farm. Just the ASS Trio playing Solarion Quest.

xxx

Watching the dice roll and bounce against his screen Sebastian soon had his head held miserably in his hand.

"Another fail?"

"Another fail," he sighed in response to Sam, rolling for damage instead. They weren't even at the final boss of the dungeon-- this was boss two out of five, if he remembered correctly, and things were not going great for them. Abigail was at death's door and his own character was down to his last two spells: Sam was doing great, considering the situation, but it didn't help them much right now.

This guy hit for a lot of damage, too. Adding up the numbers he bit back a groan, and reluctantly took sixteen hit points off his character before asking Sam for his next move. "I have one his left in me, two if I'm lucky. Don't fuck this up."

"Ah chill, Sebastian! We've done worse than this before now!" he replied with a cocky grin, even celebrating with a little fist pump when he landed a critical success. "Full hit! Knock him out!"

"With what? You got disarmed, remember?" Sebastian quickly reminded him, rolling for rebuttal damage again as Abigail cackled between them. "And he crit you. That's twenty three damage."

"Twenty three?" seethed Sam, wincing as he looked down at his character book. Pencil in hand, he crossed out what was left of his health. "I'm out. Abs?"

Her turn went the same way as Sebastian's: a miss from her character, and a solid rebuttal from the boss. Just like Sam she scratched off what was left of her health and closed her book. "Out. It's on you Seb."

With a long drawn out swear Sebastian took his roll again. Without a proper fighter or a healer he was a sitting duck, even if he managed to get a good hit in. It was just too strong to take down on his own, and so even after a lucky hit with a lightning bolt he couldn't take a hit on his own, and was soon scratching out the last of his own health with a grumble in defeat. "How did we do so badly? We've done this one before..."

"Yeah but we had Maru and Penny with us. We need numbers or we can't get through," Sam reminded him as he picked up his cola can for another gulp, before raising an eyebrow with a grin. "I'm all for inviting Penny again."

"That was two years ago! We've done it since then, right?" Abigail inquired innocently, but Sebastian wasn't too confident as he flicked back through his notebook.

"Two years...?"

"Okay, yeah. We'll get a bigger team and try again. Maybe I can get someone from collage to join?" she suggested, and started packing up her things. It was getting late and he hadn't even noticed.

Walking them up to the front door Sebastian hummed softly, mulling over the thought of strangers and eventually voicing his discomfort. "We can do it just the three of us just fine. I don't really want strangers down in my room again," he said with a frown when Abigail started to protest, a quick reminder of what happened last time enough to keep her complaints to herself.

Already at the front door Sam sniggered as he turned the door handle. "Yeah, I can't believe your mum let any of us back in after that. It reeked of skunk for weeks."

Sebastian shot him a stern look. "Don't remind me. Look: we'll try again next week. It'll be fine," he assured them, before kicking them put of the house.

[angriel]

Eywa's Chance: Deja Vu? pt.2

Warning: Widowed! Jake Sully, Warrior! Reader, Sexual Themes (will put signs), Angst, Absolutely Ass Writing, 17+, Violence, War, Chaos, Peace. Skypeople reader, Jake x Reader

@fluloa

"Found You Bitch"

Jake Hissed (Y/N) gasped as the air was knocked out of her lungs, she tried to break free from the hold of her enemy but it was unsuccessful and it only made it brought the knife closer on her neck.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you baby girl" Jake threatened. (Y/n) Surrendered and stopped struggling as if she accepted her own fate dying at the hands of the kind she loved. She breathed one last time and closed her eyes expecting for her attacker to end her but she waited and waited but she doesn't feel the pain of being stabbed.

"Pxasìk! (Screw it) Are you gonna fucking kill me or not? cause if you do just do it!" She Taunted him not failing to show her bravery infront of Jake. but she saw Wood sprites coming towards her. Jake let her go and watched as it lands on her head and arms and all over her body.

"A sign from Eywa" Jake mumbles as he stares at her. (Y/N) wonders why the Atokirina' is coming to her but regardless the mysterious reason she thanked Eywa that she saves her by sending them.

"Go to my tent, it's an emergency Norm. Go NOW" Jake ordered Norm through the transmitter, as soon as he was done contacting norm the Wood Sprites let go of (Y/N) and she watched them disappear in the sky.

"well this is awkward" she said, Jake ignored her and called his ikran, it came infront of him and he pets it. He connects his Tsaheylu and mounted his Ikran "So you're gonna leave me after evreything you've fucking done?" (Y/N) Screamed.

Jake laughed teasingly "Come on sweetheart we've got a lot of things to talk to" He said as he extended his hands towards her. (Y/n) Scoffed as she took his hands and he guided her to sit on his ikran. Without saying anything he took off not giving a moment for (Y/n) to secure himself.

And because of this (Y/n) had no choice but to wrapped her arms around him tightly "Fuck you! You're a fucking asshole bitch! You "skxawng" (Stupid) Jake laughed and flied faster while you're screaming at the top of your lungs, you only stopped because you saw the Pandora from above and it fascinated you.

(Y/n) didn't know how much time has passed since you two were flying but you saw the Legendary Flying rocks A.K.A The Hallelujah Mountains Jake turned into a narrowed rocks and landed on a campsite. Almost immediately a crowd of Na'vi surrounded the two of you.

"Fuck Jake! Why the did you bring her to our camp site?!" Norm shrieked at the sight of you. "Do the tests on her and we'll talk" Jake said while he was walking towards the healers tent. Norm Sighed and he turns to you.

"Hello there I'm Norm, Norm Spellman and yours is?" Norm introduced himself as he extended his arms towards her. (Y/n) smiled and took his arms "Kaltxi Oeru syaw (Y/n), smon niprrte'" (Y/n) said while shaking his hand.

"And Fluent to Na'vi. you could use some improvement to your pronounciations but you're good!" Norm rambled, (Y/n) rolled her eyes and scoffed while mumbling "yeah sure whatever."

"We need to do some tests on you is that okay?" He asked you and expecting your confirmation. You raised your eyebrows and crossed your arms to your chest while staring at him.

"Don't worry we're not gonna do some freaky things to you like stabbing you and shit" He raised his arms defensively. You sighed and said "I don't have any choice do I?" You said, he nodded "Fine" he smiled at you and guided you to Jake's tent.

There you saw a Human Scientist, he looked at you and waved. "Hi there I'm Max and I'm the one who's mainly gonna do some check ups on ya. Including testing if you have a tracking chip in your noggins." He enthustiastically said.

Jake Found Mo'at and greeted her. "I know you brought her here sully, tell me, why did you do it?" Mo'at asked him while she's grinding herbs.

"I was gonna kill her, but there was a sign from Eywa" Jake said. Mo'at suddenly stopped and looked at Jake, she laughed bitterly remembering her late daughter Neytiri saying the same thing when she first brought Jake to the home tree.

"Do you not feel Deja Vu Jake Sully?" Mo'at asked, He suddenly tensed up as his bittersweet memory came and replay on his mind. He went silent and was about to go out of the tent when he said "I'm sure Neytiri and her father is together now, you should visit him he's asking me about you." Jake then checked The dreamwalker on his tent.

Just as he was about to go in, Norm and Max went out. They greeted him and he greeted back "No chips anywhere on her body, her avatar's normal" Max said. Jake nodded and thanked him for his services as well as norm and the duo went out to continue their research.

Jake went in and saw (Y/n) "Get up and come with me" He ordered her and went out again to the center of the camp, you obliged and saw the Na'vi's staring at you and shouting. You followed him towards the center and you were shocked when he went up the throne.

(Italized in Na'vi)

"This is the sky walker we've spotted near our sacred place" Jake said to the people. Many Hissed at you and many shouted some unknown Na'vi words at you. You shrinked at your spot as you feel their hatred towards you.

"But! Eywa gave me a sign. And I decided to take her in, from now on Mo'at will lead our people. While I teach her how to live like us." He announced displaying his powerful status.

You looked down and thought how you fucked up cursing the Olo'eyktan of the Omaticayan people. Then you suddenly stared at his hands and you noticed that he has 5 fingers like you do unlike the native Na'vi who has 4 fingers.

You suddenly realized that he was Jake Sully. The one who betrayed humanity, the 1st dreamwalker that became one of the people, and your crush. You blushed from the sudden realization, not noticing Jake's stares at you. And you pray to Eywa that he does not see the darker blue tint from your cheek.

Jake left the throne and made his way from the tent. He can't help but to think about what his mate said to him, is it possible that Neytiri pleaded for Eywa to give him a new mate? He felt his head aches and he touched it with his hand.

"hey" (Y/n) greets. Jake turned around and saw her and wondered why she was in his tent, he raised his eyebrow at her as gesturing what she wants. She looks at the ground sighing and finally asking him "what did you say earlier?".

"I'm gonna teach you our ways, as Eywa gave me a sign" Jake said in his deep monotone voice. She gasped and fake coughed and said "I see... Are you also perhaps the -" Jake cut her sentence off by saying "Olo'eyktan? Yes and I'll assume you already know my name?" (Y/n) nodded and looked at his eyes.

"is that it?" Jake asked her, (Y/n) said yes. "We'll start tomorrow at the morning. As soon as the sun shines, don't be late or I'll kill you" Jake threatened her. Before leaving the tent (Y/n) said "I'm (Y/n) figured i'll introduce myself so you know who you're acting like a dick with." She left his tent while mumbling the words of how mean he was and how much of an asshole he is.

Jake clicked his tongue behind his teeth and prepared his armor. He left his tent and called for Norm to guide (Y/n) to her tent which is right next to his. As soon as he was done with it he called for his ikran and went to the Tree of Souls.

Jake dismounted his ikran and immediately connected his Tsaheylu on a strand of the tree. He saw his beloved once again standing and waiting for him. Before he talks Neytiri cut him off by cupping her hands on his face and leaned her forehead to his.

"Ma Jake, Eywa will not let you see me anymore. This is our last meeting, you will see me until the right time. "Kiyevame Ma Jake, Eywa Ngahu" Neytiri said not trying to hide the sadness she's feeling. after a short while she lets him go.

"Wha-, What do you mean? No Baby please? Nga Yawne Lu Oer! Please comeback! Don't! " Jake pleaded but Neytiri keot walking towards the mists and Jake's Tsaheylu disconnected from the strand.

He screamed in Anguish and wept in front of Eywa not caring if anyone will see him. He mounted his ikran and went straight to his tent, clutching Neytiri's songchord close to him and for the first time in the year Jake have finally gotten the rest he deserves.

But there's one thing that bothers him besides the recent events. he can't shook the feeling of

DEJA VU

Kaltxi Oeru syaw (Y/n), smon niprrte'

Hi I'm Called (Y/N), Pleased to meet you

Kiyevame Ma Jake, Eywa Ngahu

See you soon My Jake, May eywa be with you

Nga Yawne Lu Oer!

You're beloved to me (I love you)

Chapter 3 is out!

[sweeethinny]

safe and sound

Lily was sleeping in a chair that was more uncomfortable than she could have imagined, her back ached, her arms were tired, her head was throbbing with a migraine that wouldn't let up, the back of her neck was burning from the lack of backing and she felt a lot weaker than usual.

She was used to not sleeping, but things usually weren't that bad.

''He'll be fine,'' James said, coming over with another cup of coffee, hot and strong, just the way she liked it, while his contained milk and more sugar than she thought necessary. He sat down in the other uncomfortable chair beside her, looking just as exhausted and tired as she did.

‘’I know he will,’’ She had no doubt about it, but she wondered in the back of her mind if things would ever be okay again now. Their family, other people, everything around them, not just that one-year-old baby who was lying on a very small stretcher being cared for by healers who wouldn't let him be alone for less than an hour without going there to watch over him. ’’I just… A scar? What does that mean?'' Lily was afraid of the uncertain, and that was far more than she could handle without freaking out.

''I don't know either, but we'll find out,'' James draped his arm over her shoulder, the two of them watching their small son, who had barely learned to walk, being watched over by a healer who was applying calming spells on his skin, which was now reddening around the scar that had formed on his baby's perfect, delicate forehead.

What would become of them now? Was Voldemort really gone? What did all that mean? There were so many questions… Lily was afraid and at the same time longing for all these answers.

What if the answer wasn't what she wanted?

‘'I can't promise we're one hundred percent safe right now,’' James muttered to her, and Lily nodded. Not at all, no one could guarantee that until at least two of her questions were answered. ''But... we're in this together.'' She looked at him, watching with the heart full of love from someone who had almost lost her entire family less than hours ago. She wanted to cry, sleep, escape from there… Not even she knew what she wanted to do.

''Until the very end?'' She reminded him, with a sad and hopeful smile on her face, of their wedding vows.

''Until the very end.''

[dollish-shard]

Perhaps, This Time

The doll looked up, and its witch met its eyes.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked, smiling.

"You are... this one's Miss?" The doll questioned, tilting its head.

The light drained from the witch's eyes, the spark of hope too easily lit snuffed out once again. She frowned.

"Yes, I suppose I am." The witch sighed. 

"Yay!" The doll beamed. In the glow of arcane devices, the mystical light bouncing off its pale porcelain, its long and straight black hair, it looked just like... her.

But it wasn't. It was only a doll.

They had met years ago, training in the same coven. The first time she had seen her, walking through the trees, wind blowing her hair around... and that smile, gentle and kind. The witch felt her heart skip. Their eyes had met, and a blush was shared.

Their bond only grew. Days spent practising spellcraft together, gathering regents, helping each other overcome each other's shortcomings. Nights spent snuggled together by a fire, lost in each other's eyes, sharing a passionate embrace…

The illness had started slowly. A persistent cough, one that never quite seemed to go away. She insisted she was fine.

The day when they would become full fledged witches was soon approaching.

"We'll get a house in the White Forest." She had said. "Just you, me, and our dolls."

The witch never cared much for dolls, but she had loved them. How she fawned over them... she had wanted as many as they could handle, and the witch had agreed, because it made her happy.

One day, during a lecture on rituals, she had passed out.

'A sickness of the flesh', the healer witches had said. Her body was fighting itself, fighting against nothing. There was no known magic that could heal such a thing.

Her condition got worse, but she never lost her smile. Even as her body withered, and she became confined to bed.

The witch sat by her side and held her hand. "You'll get better soon." She had said. Hoping against hope. "Then we'll get that house. Remember, with the dolls?"

"Mhmm." She nodded weakly, smiled, and closed her eyes. The witch felt her heart snap in two.

"A tragedy", the coven elders had said.  "To lose such a promising young witch to sickness..."

The witch barely listened, standing for the ceremony in cold autumn breeze. Her eyes never left her body, lying so peacefully on the altar. Even now, she smiled.

The elders lit the candles, and she became awash in purple flames. The smoke carrying her spirit upwards, to the great unknown beyond.

The witch had locked herself in her room. For a week, she did nothing but cry.

When she emerged, the witch had changed. Her eyes hard, full of fierce determination. She could not accept this outcome. She would not.

She gathered everything that she had left behind. Her robes, still smelling faintly of her. Strands of hair left on her pillow.

The remnant emotion from their shared living space, bottled. The love, the joy, the laughter, the sorrow... The never was and the could bes, imprinted on the fabric of the world around them, that stained their very souls.

And every memory she had of her. All copied, painstakingly, from her mind to crystal, distilled into regents. Everything the was left of her.

The witch was bestowed her title. A bright future was expected of her... but then she vanished, without a trace.

In the White Forest, amidst the sea of ashen leaves, the witch pulled into being her domain. Twisting the laws of reality to her whim, a house formed within the trees. A house big enough for two witches, and their dolls.

It felt so empty.

The witch's first experiments were simple, crude. A strand of her hair in the doll's own, glazing the porcelain with emotion, etching memories into its core... But all that ever came from it were dolls, plain and simple. Without self, without memory.

Not her.

The witch's skills improved, and her technique was refined. Parts of her infused every step of the process, every inch of the doll's very being.

It was still not enough. It was still never enough.

Every time a new doll looked up at the witch, with her face... she would ask.

"Do you know who I am?"

And every time, the doll would give an expected reply. The would recognize her as their Miss. Nothing more. And her heart would break a little more.

The witch looked at her newest doll. Her newest failure.

"Report to the Doll Room, #72. Your sisters will assign you your duties."

The doll nodded. "Yes, Miss!" It replied cheerfully, striding off.

She watched it leave, and sighed.

Perhaps... perhaps the next one would work. That it would wake up, and meet her eyes with that same smile.

And then the two of them could, at last, be happy with their dolls.

The witch set herself back to work.

[jazlynriddle]

Welcome to your life - Pt 2:

Acting On Your Best Behaviour Ch 17:

Summary:

They'd seen it in their fellow orphans often enough to recognise the pattern and were now forced to admit, despite their hopes to the contrary, that Isidora had likely suffered similar side effects.

No… they'd always known she had. The Keeper had just wanted the power that Ranrok had, enough to convince themselves that they would be able to handle it better than that naive woman.

With the start of the Keeper’s sixth-year in Hogwarts, comes a whole slew of headache-inducing challenges from the most unexpected of places. Between insignificant pests throwing wrenches into their plans and tedious teenage drama, that the Keeper is entirely unprepared for, they wonder if they'll make it to their NEWTs without losing their sanity.

Or worse, Ominis or Sebastian.

Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).

You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)

Notes:

Warnings: Torture, again not exactly torture but kiiiinda torture, there's a lot of pain involved but it's a side-effect, sort of?

We'll get to the proper torture when it's victims our kids are emotionally invested in xD

And that smut with Ominis will be coming up next chapter! ;) I'm gonna need to add a new tag to the fic haha x3

FYI: For those not too familiar with the name, an 'athame' is a ceremonial blade often used in magical rituals, it's usually a black handled and double-edged dagger.

"Thank you for the breakfast, Tibsy, it was delicious." The Keeper nodded as the small elf cleared the dishes from the table.

Tibsy beamed brightly at the compliment, giving the three a little bow before popping away, likely to feed their guest back at Dìon.

"Will both of you be working on the wards today as well?" Ominis asked, taking a relaxed sip of tea, his expression content after their meal. "The two of you seemed rather tired when you got home yesterday evening."

"I think we can continue tomorrow and relax a little together today, maybe get some homework done too." The Keeper smiled wryly, their guest needed time to recover too.

They'd spent a fair amount of time and effort healing the woman after their tests. Neither they nor Sebastian were particularly skilled healers however, so it had taken a while just to perform basic treatment with Tynx's help, and they’d left the rest to her own natural recovery.

"We had some ideas for the underground area's security, but I’ll need to double check our math first, our tests with the Guardian prototypes failed pretty abysmally too." The Keeper grimaced lightly, absently cleaning a spot of sauce on the table with their napkin.

"We weren't very hopeful for those without the Leyline link anyway, it's fine to rework them later." Sebastian gave them a gentle pat on the hand and the Keeper returned his efforts with a fond smile.

"Fair enough." The Keeper nodded. "According to Tynx, the greenhouses are almost complete as well. We can probably start moving the plants in soon."

"I suppose I shall continue my search for Anne tomorrow then, I got a promising lead in Cragcroft yesterday." Ominis hummed thoughtfully.

"That reminds me, yesterday we took a quick dip in the lake since we were in the area, and while there, Sebastian and I found something for you, Ominis." The Keeper smiled softly as they stood to retrieve their satchel.

"So that's why Sebastian was missing a sock." Ominis chuckled.

"I swear some critter must have made off with the blasted thing." Sebastian grumbled. "How'd you tell anyway?"

"Your steps sounded uneven." Ominis drawled dryly.

"Yeah, right." Sebastian snorted sceptically.

The Keeper retook their seat, satchel in hand as they spoke. "Here we go, hopefully you'll like what we found. Though, I will say, Ominis, that you don't have to accept this if you don't want to."

"Oh?" Ominis tilted his head to the side curiously, feeling slightly wary as well, from their words. A moment later, he jumped in surprise when the sound of the jar opening was followed by two soft and shrill voices.

"It's open, it's open! Left, let's go this way-"

"No, right, let's go right-"

"Ow! No, I want to go left!"

"Ouch! Stop it, I want to go right!"

"Left!"

Ominis blinked in confusion for a moment, before abruptly realising that the words had a familiar lisp to them. "...snakes?"

The Keeper chuckled. "Yes, I was considering giving them to you closer to your next birthday, but we've run into a small problem."

"I think you mean two small problems." Sebastian snorted. "The fact that it's not two snakes, it's one."

Ominis frowned in even more confusion, feeling more wary and uncomfortable, had they forgotten that he didn't like being a Parselmouth? Why would his lovers offer him such a thing? For a birthday gift no less.

"Sebastian's right, this little one has two heads." The Keeper shook their head in amusement as the two headed snake wiggled about drunkenly. "I'm not entirely certain why, but they can't seem to move right. I spotted them trying and failing to swim away from a dragonfly nymph in the lake."

"And what's the problem you've run into?" Ominis asked brusquely, impatient to understand why he was being gifted a two-headed snake.

"Feeding." The Keeper replied, plucking another jar from their bag, and withdrawing two worms with a mild grimace, lowering the wiggling creatures into the snakes’ jar.

Immediately, the two heads began to whip back and forth aggressively, hissing at each other angrily.

"Food food! Mine!"

"No, mine! Out of the way, I'm hungry!"

"I saw it first! You move!"

"Ow! Stop pulling! Hey!"

"They're fighting…" Ominis' eyes widened in understanding.

"Yes, even though there's more than enough worms to go around, we can’t feed them if they keep thrashing about." The Keeper rolled their eyes in exasperation. "Likely because only one of the heads can look 'in front' at a time. Perhaps you can do something about that?"

Ominis hesitated for a moment, listening to the little hisses of distress, and feeling his sympathy for them mount with every cry. He too knew what it was like to feel so at odds with oneself, the pain of being torn in two directions. If he could help ease someone's struggle and conflict, shouldn't he?

Finally, he sighed and focused on the small voices, tapping into his birthright with a fluidity that he resented. "Stop fighting little ones, there is enough food for both of you."

The hisses of the snakes immediately stopped, the two heads staring at him in shock for several seconds.

"It speaks, how?"

"How?"

"Yes… I am a speaker of your tongue, you needn't fear, you can share, there is plenty of food here." Ominis couldn't suppress a smile at the curious little voices.

"Lots of food?"

"Really?"

"Yes, so just open your mouths and wait for the food to come to you." Ominis nodded firmly.

"...okay… food? Now?"

"Yes, food food, I'm hungry!"

Ominis chuckled, finding their young, innocent voices and immediate trust rather adorable, quite unlike the sinister snakes his family kept around the manor. Deadly sentries that kept his parents abreast of everything their children did. "You can feed them now."

"Finally." The Keeper sighed and lowered the wiggling worms into the small snakes' open mouths, the twin snake's patterned tail flicked excitedly as they chomped down on the fat and juicy worms.

The twins quickly swallowed the worms and opened their mouths again, hissing insistently. The Keeper shook their head at the demanding creatures, they didn't need to be a Parselmouth to understand that gesture.

As they fed the snakes another two worms, the Keeper added. "I rescued this one because I've never seen a two headed snake before. It's up to you if you want to keep them but I doubt they'll survive on their own."

Ominis nodded in agreement, it sounded like the snakes couldn't even move properly, they would be incredibly vulnerable to predators and unable to hunt when they were fighting over both food and direction. He'd never been proud of his ability to speak parseltongue, but if he could use it to help…

"Ah, full… sleepy."

"I wanna sleep somewhere warm…"

"Yes, warm warm, it's cold."

"Come here then." Ominis sighed, opening his palms. "They'd like somewhere warm to sleep."

The Keeper gave an approving nod, pouring the snakes out of the jar and into his hands. The two heads immediately began to hiss happily and flick their tongues against his skin.

"Warm! Speaker warm!"

"Speaker smells nice… sleepy…"

Ominis blinked in surprise at how small they were, small enough to fit into one hand. The feeling of their cool scales against his skin was surprisingly soft and he cradled them to his chest, running a finger along their body.

"Hehe tickles!"

"Mmm feels nice, again Speaker again!"

Ominis chuckled, stroking a finger under the chin of the snake that liked it and feeling the twins coil up in his palm to sleep after a few moments. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad being a Parselmouth…

The Keeper's eyes softened at the affectionate expression on Ominis' face. "It's not so bad, isn't it?"

Ominis startled slightly when the Keeper spoke his thoughts, a knowing smile on their face as they continued with. "If you were not the one with this ability, they would have died."

Ominis narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You seem very intent on convincing me of that. It is not I, that these little ones owe their lives to, it was you who rescued them."

"Be that as it may, from how you've described your family, I doubt any of them would have helped a crippled snake who can't even move right." The Keeper shook their head. "Neither would these snakes have let us non-Parselmouths properly help them without a fight and that could have ended poorly."

"They aren't kidding, you should have seen how aggressive those snakes were, crazy considering that they're practically babies." Sebastian shook his head before glaring at the Keeper accusingly. "Can't believe you didn't tell me there was a tiny pair of snakes biting the palm of your hand the whole time."

"Barely felt it with you snogging me that hard." The Keeper waved their hand dismissively, causing Sebastian’s cheeks to flush with a mixture of surprise and pride, as they returned their attention to Ominis. "Point is, with you, they will be both heard and loved."

Ominis remained silent for several minutes, before he finally sighed and nodded reluctantly, giving the sleeping twin snakes a gentle smile. "I suppose you're right… they will be loved."

The Keeper smiled, pleased that he had come around to their perspective. Parseltongue was a rare and unique ability, it was pointless for Ominis to begrudge himself something valuable that he couldn’t change anyway. Eventually he'd come to accept and maybe even appreciate his gift, if they had anything to say about it.

"What type of snake are they?" Ominis asked curiously after a few moments of petting the snakes.

"Common Watersnake, non-venomous and harmless to humans. Apparently, they're killed often because they resemble the venomous cottonmouth." Sebastian grimaced. "Can't believe some idiots can mistake these cute little things for deadly snakes and kill them for it, feels rather unfair to them."

Ominis went silent again, before murmuring a quiet. "People often hurt those mistaken as dangerous just because of who they were born to or how they look."

"That's why those people are idiots and neither of us will stand for it." Sebastian repeated emphatically and a small shy smile teased the corners of Ominis lips, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"Let's spend some time today setting up a proper living space for the snakes too." The Keeper chuckled. "They're small but we shouldn't keep them in a jar."

Ominis flashed a wry smile. "That's true, fortunately, I am familiar with what a snake nest should have."

"Great, because all I've got are books and they're not particularly helpful when it comes to details." Sebastian grinned.

"Helps that we can simply ask the twins what they like or don't." The Keeper nodded, before glancing at the small coil of snake sleeping in Ominis' hand.

"Since you seem quite unable to move." With a wry smile, the Keeper stood from their chair, kneeled by Ominis' feet, and took his free hand in theirs, grazing the back of it with their lips. "Tell us what we should gather, we are at your service."

Ominis shivered at the sensation, his ears turning red this time while Sebastian snickered behind his hand and Ominis cleared his throat pointedly.

"Well, we'll need some branches and wood shavings for bedding, cypress or aspen would be suitable." Ominis hummed. "We'll also need to pick a good spot that's well-ventilated and will let them sunbathe whenever they like."

"They live by the water, so they probably like it humid." Sebastian added. "We can make the bedding a little wet so they can stay hydrated by burrowing in it."

Ominis nodded, looking more enthusiastic about providing the snakes a comfortable home.

The Keeper smiled affectionately as they sat on the floor, taking out a journal to jot down the supplies they'd need, while the two boys discussed their options. They really did like this side of Ominis, he was such a sweetheart despite everything he'd experienced, as well as his own cunning nature.

"Alright then, while we're gathering these materials, you have a more important job." The Keeper nodded, putting away their journal and smiling as Ominis tilted his head in confusion. "You get to pick names for them."

The Keeper hummed as they scratched several notes in their journal, this second round of tests had gone well. They'd successfully stretched the amount of time it took, for the woman to make it from her cell to ground floor, to a solid hour.

It had been rather entertaining watching her slide down the stairs repeatedly, after said stairs transformed into slippery slopes when the cell wards detected the breach. Though, as fun as that had been, it had been more surprising when she'd used a rather creative combination of Bombarda and a door to successfully propel herself up the slides.

Speaking of doors…

A muffled scream came from the woman bound to the cell's cot as Sebastian carefully slid a small and sharp athame under the skin of her right palm, like one might skin an apple. Her eyes were filled with tears and her body struggled to contort with every shift of his blade.

The ropes binding her jerking limbs to the cot's sturdy metal frame, wrung against her wrists, and burned the skin under them with every spasm. Her cries gurgled and choked around the saliva gathering under the cloth they'd gagged her with, preventing her from biting her own tongue. Rolling his eyes at the sound, Sebastian continued to shear until finally the entire strip of her palm peeled right off.

"And, there we go." Sebastian grinned, looking proud of his work as he raised the bloody layer of skin, or more so the doorknob attached to it, with a pair of prongs, discarding it into the blood-filled bowl under her hand without much care for the splash that followed.

The woman continued to cry and whimper despite the announcement that her suffering had reached its end, perhaps she couldn't understand words at this point.

"Quit complaining, nothing a bit of wiggenweld won't cure." The Keeper huffed as they finished jotting down their notes. "Be glad we're even helping you remove the damn thing."

"Could've left you with a knob permanently attached because you tried a door that you had no reason to open." Sebastian agreed, flipping the bloody blade in the air, seemingly unbothered by the flecks of red that splattered across the floor as he caught it again with ease.

The Keeper rolled their eyes at his showing off but couldn't conceal the fondness in their smile. In truth, they were deeply impressed by Sebastian's steady hand and keen wit.

His idea of furnishing the underground floors with sliding doors adorned with charmed fake doorknobs was quite brilliant. Forcing the escapee to either sever their hand or at least injure themselves, costing them the use of a hand even if they choose to simply detach the doorknob from the door and leave the knob stuck to their hand. Thus, costing the escapee precious time.

And they'd thought they couldn't possibly become more enamoured with this boy.

This idea alone had severely impacted the woman's dungeon clear time, as she had been further stymied when trying to escape the castle grounds, now that the gates were locked behind passwords. Of course, they had always intended to make the gates securely locked but getting a proper gauge of the time difference a password system made, versus one that could be unlocked with Alohomora, was important to their statistical evaluation of its effectiveness.

Assumptions, in their experience, were the most foolish yet easy mistake to make in any given scenario, the last thing they needed would be to overestimate or underestimate the effects of any individual decision at a critical moment.

The woman had then tried to scale the walls with one hand and that had cost her another two hours, several conjured ropes, and a debilitating amount of physical energy. The woman didn't even make it to the red zone before she passed out from exhaustion, and her injuries, this time.

"Well, at least that answers the question of how far the permanent sticking charm goes." The Keeper nonchalantly cast a scourgify at their partner's bloody hands with a dry chuckle. "Skin deep."

Sebastian snorted, drawing his wand with his now clean hands, and casting a scourgify on the athame in turn, before tucking it back into its holster around his waist. "Well, with that settled, I'll go see if Tynx has finished making a new door and reapply the charm if he's done."

"Sure, I'll finish up here." The Keeper nodded, tucking away their journal as Sebastian picked up the bowl and made his way towards the cell door, taking a moment to give them a kiss on the cheek on his way out.

As the cell door closed behind him, the Keeper cast a scourgify on the woman's hand, ignoring her renewed screams as the spell scraped the raw and exposed flesh clean. They waited a few moments, before ungagging her, grabbing her by the hair and lifting her head so they could pour a vial of wiggenweld into her mouth.

As soon as she swallowed the potion, they released her and cast a scourgify on their own hand to clean the oils off. The woman coughed a few times, wincing as the skin on her palm began to burn and itch as it healed.

As the Keeper began releasing the woman's hands and feet from the ropes binding them to the cot's frame, her raspy voice wheezed through her throat. "...why…"

The Keeper straightened as they finished unbinding her. "Why what."

"...why me?" The woman sobbed, curling up into a ball the moment she was released. "I never did anything bad, my dad never did anything bad. We never did anything wrong, why us? Why me? It's not fair."

The woman shrieked, her bloodshot eyes stabbing her captor accusatorily. "What did I do to deserve this?"

The Keeper stared at her blandly, their expression flat and disinterested. "You demanded a hundred galleons for mere information that wasn't worth such a valuation."

The woman stared at them uncomprehendingly and the Keeper turned to leave the cell. "I can't say anything about what you suffered before, but if you think you're the only one dealt a bad hand by fate, you're sorely mistaken."

The Keeper chuckled sardonically as they stopped by the door. "The only thing we get to choose is what type of person we become. Don't expect reality to be fair. Whatever you do will have its own consequences regardless of how extenuating your circumstances may be. You will be judged by the actions you take."

"The moment you took advantage of a stranger who did you no wrong, you lost any moral high ground to bemoan your unjust fate." The Keeper pushed the door open and closed it behind them.

"Then why are you doing this!?" The woman protested, pushing herself up weakly. "Doesn't that apply to you as well?"

"Of course it does. I simply care not for moral grounds, nor do I expect any sort of fairness for myself. That is the person I chose to be, and I am well aware that if I fail, I will taste a hell far worse than the one I grew up in." The Keeper flashed her a sharp grin as they locked the cell door. "All I have to ensure… is that I play every card in my deck and never lose."

As long as you know yourself, no one can tell you who you are. Strength is being able to smile even when it's hard to.

Smile… her father's last words resonated through her mind, she wondered how long it'd been since she'd smiled. She gazed at her own reflection in the cold metal of her cot's frame, the worn and tired face staring back at her bore nothing but worry lines.

She could barely remember his voice, but she could still remember her father's face clearly. Like hers, it had been worn and tired from the hard life of caring for his daughter alone in the middle of the woods while on the run from the Ministry. Even then, she could also remember his smile, the way the skin around his eyes crinkled in little crow feet.

He'd been a hard worker, tilling their garden without a single complaint, tending their crops with a gentle hand. Every day of his suffering that she bore witness to, made anger burn inside her ever hotter and she’d held on to that anger for her entire life. How could anyone believe that such a kind and strong man would murder his own wife with dark magic?

When he passed away, that anger compelled her to remain in their small hut. He'd once told her that he hoped she would return to the town after he passed, to see what had become of it and if his friends were still well, but she couldn't understand why he would say such a thing.

What did she care for the people who betrayed and abandoned them? Why would she return to the town, beg for their help or acceptance? No, she would stay in the place her father had built. It was theirs and it was all that mattered.

When people had occasionally come by her home seeking help, her anger compelled her to spit in their face and turn them away. What did she owe them? No one had helped her when her father was sick, no one had helped him when he begged his friends to care for his daughter when he was being accused.

Not that she really wanted them to, if someone had been willing to take her in, he would have allowed the Aurors to arrest him, and she didn't believe that he would have been found innocent. Nobody cared about them, so why should she care about anyone else?

Her angry, bitter, and hateful face stared back at her in silver. When had she become like this? When had her face become so heinous? A pang of grief gripped her heart and her eyes welled with tears again. What would her father say if he were to see her now?

As long as you know yourself…

Did she? Did she know who she had become? As she ripped her eyes away from her reflection and wrapped her arms around herself, the answer burned in her heart.

She'd become just like the people who'd turned their backs on her father.

Notes:

https://www.susquehannockwildlife.org/2021/11/19/two-headed-water-snake-finds-a-home-at-the-wildlife-center/

Aren't they cuuuuuuute? I took one look at this two-headed Watersnake and immediately fell in love, so I just had to add them to this story! ♡w♡

And, if you guys don't know how dragonfly nymphs eat, you should look it up, it's honestly quite an unsettling sight, one you might expect to see in an Alien movie rather than real life xP (Still kinda cute too tho)

Also, I wonder if anyone realised that the lake on the map is actually the Hogwarts Legacy logo x3

[quicksilverdrabbles]

At Largashbur

Atub: The ritual requires Troll Fat and a Daedra Heart, so I may commune with Malacath.

Morana: *pulls Troll Fat and a Daedra Heart out of her satchel* Here you go.

Atub: Oh- You- you have that ready to go. How nice.

Xelzaz: We are Alchemists. Such ingredients are a necessity.

Atub: I see. Well then, follow me. You've brought the ingredients for the ceremony, and now I ask that you see it through.

Xelzaz: Why though-

Morana: Hm.. *notices Yaksha trailing behind a bit, looking dazed. Stops so he can catch up and pokes his shoulder to get his attention* ... Are you okay?

Yaksha: Hm? Yes, I am fine.

Morana: I can imagine strongholds aren't very comfortable for you. Was there anything like this in High Rock?

Yaksha: There were Orc Strongholds in High Rock. I.. was a healer for one.

Morana: Does it make you miss your home?

Yaksha: ... It is not a home anymore. But I do miss it.

Morana: I feel the same. I'm sorry. We'll try to get this over with quickly, alright?

Yaksha: *smiles, waving off her concerns with a shrug* We can take however long it takes to get this done. Please pay no mind.

Morana: Still..

~One ritual later~

Yamarz: Grr.. This is all your fault, you know.

Morana: Excuse me?

Yamarz: You barged into our stronghold, brought your whole clan of outsiders with you..

Morana: *glances back at her team with a frown* I was under the impression we were helping you. I apologize if we cause any offense-

Yamarz: And to top it all off you brought a worthless wimp of an Orc with you.

Morana: ... I'm sorry, who exactly are you referring to?

Yamarz: Who else? *points at Yaksha with a grunt* He's absolutely pathetic. Wields no weapon, avoids conflict, and picks flowers like a real Orc would pick off enemy heads. Don't think I didn't notice how he stayed away from the giant when you lot fought it off.

Morana: ... Yaksha is a healer. He doesn't like fighting.

Yamarz: Ha! Healer?! Healing is a woman's job! And what sort of Orc doesn't like fighting, the coward!

Morana: *her charcoal snaps between her fingers* ... Is that so.

Yamarz: It's Orcs like him that make Malacath so angry, really. Pathetic creatures that can't even lift a dagger in self defense don't deserve to call themselves Orsimer.

Yaksha: Hm? *turns and looks for Morana, noticing her still talking to Yamarz* ...?

Morana: *glances over at Yaksha*

Yaksha: ...! *waves sweetly, smiling*

Morana: ..... *reaches and yanks Yamarz down by the neck of his armor, leaning in and whispering in his ear quietly* Listen to me and listen well, Yamarz.

Yamarz: ?! What is the meaning of this-?? Let go of me!

Morana: Yaksha is the most talented, kind, empathetic person I have ever met. His healing would save thousands more lives than your lack of brains and surplus of brawn ever would. His clan thrived under his care, while yours suffers at your lack.

Yamarz: ...

Morana: One of you is the worse Orc, and it sure as hell is not him. And if you ever disrespect my friend again, I will brew a poison so strong, your intestines will recoil and expel themselves from your body, allowing you to learn what it feels like to vomit your own guts. I will allow you to choke on them and take pleasure in watching your slow and miserably painful death. Do I make myself clear?

Yamarz: *sweating, visibly afraid of the little Dunmer* ... Whatever.

Morana: Hmph. *releases him, turning and walking back towards the group without a second glance*

Yaksha: Are you alright, Morana? You seemed very angry just now.

Morana: *smiles, shaking her head to reassure him* Yamarz is a very mean person. He's irritating to have to talk to.

Yaksha: Mm..

Morana: Shall we set off for Fallowstone Cave, then?

Xelzaz: No? Why are we even helping him??

Morana: ...

Xelzaz: Morana?

Morana: Let's just follow along for now.

~

At Fallowstone Cave...

Yamarz: *watching the giants swarming the shrine nervously* ... You know..

Morana: *perched in a tree above him* Hm.

Yamarz: ... I have another offer for you. Some good gold in it, if you do. Go up there and retrieve that club for me. The stronghold would never know I never got it.

Morana: ... *shakes her head, a quiet huff of a laugh escaping her* No way.

Yamarz: Huh? Why not?

Morana: Putting my previous threat aside-

Kaidan: Threat???

Inigo: I'll tell you later.

Morana: -I will not go against what your God has ordered. Daedric Prince or not, Malacath or Trinimac, I have no wish to anger any sort of divine or hellbound being. You kill those giants on your own, or die trying.

Yamarz: ... Hmph. Fine. You just wait here, then. This will only take a moment. *draws his weapon and charges towards the giants with a battle cry, instantly getting launched into the air by their clubs*

Team Dragonborn: *watches him get launched, and follows his descent as he plummets back towards the ground and dies*

Morana: ... Welp. At least he wasn't lying when he said it would be quick. Inigo, may I borrow your bow?

Inigo: Of course, my friend. Er, but.. Can you-

Morana: I'll be fine. I know how to shoot at the very least, and it only needs to be strong enough to pierce their skin. *reaches down and takes the bow from Inigo along with a few ebony arrows, taking the tips of them and dousing them in a sizzling liquid*

Xelzaz: What on earth is that?

Morana: Take a guess.

Xelzaz: *hisses, recoiling at the smell* Jarrin root.

Morana: Yep. *draws an arrow, the other pinched between her fingers for the next shot. Fires, lodging the arrow in the biggest giant's neck and watching as it falls to the ground instantly*

Lucien: ... That stuff really is terrifying.

Inigo: Not as terrifying as Morana when she's angry, I think.

[sezja]

Febuwhump Day 5: "That's Gonna Scar" Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Sanson Smyth/Guydelot Thildonnet Triggers/Content warnings: Death of a female character, blood

Part One

He hates tunnels.

Guydelot moves carefully, not daring to risk a light any stronger than the half-dead torch he carries - and even that seems too bright. Certainly too bright for sneaking up on a wily old poacher, one who's been hunting the Shroud for decades. She'll see him coming ten malms away.

But then, he reasons, the point's not to hide from her, exactly. No, it's to trap her, and take her in with as little fuss as possible. Guydelot hadn't liked this plan - Coeurlclaws weren't the type to go down easy when cornered, and he doubts this one's been prowling for so long without learning a few dirty tricks. He hadn't liked the idea of leaving Sanson to chase her in the dark, all by himself... but they had few other options, and none that wouldn't mean letting her slip away for now. Besides, there were only so many places she could go in the narrow tunnel...

...Right?

He hurries faster, heedless of the sound his footsteps make, echoing off the narrow walls, magnified in the dark. He's never been claustrophobic, but this is a special hell, penned in like this. Around any corner, there could be-

"You'll stop where you are, if you know what's good for you," says a voice up ahead, sharp and direct. "And for your friend, here."

That does make him freeze in his tracks. "Sanson?"

"Don't listen to her!" That's Sanson, alright, his voice peaking with swallowed fear. That's my boy, Guydelot thinks, affection warring with terror. A choked yelp from Sanson has him dropping the torch and reaching for his bow. He steps over the guttering light as he hurries forward, arrow nocked and ready...

...and around a bend in the tunnel he finds them: his lover and his quarry, at a standoff.

He sees the knife first, pressed to Sanson's throat, and a red trickle where it's bitten the skin. Only the pallor of his skin betrays his fear; his face is determined, set in the stubborn, beautiful lines Guydelot loves so well. The poacher bares her teeth at Guydelot, pressing the knife against Sanson's neck, drawing still more blood.

"Take another step, and I'll-"

Sanson grabs for the woman's arm, taking advantage of the distraction provided by Guydelot's arrival. He manages to shove it away from his own throat, but she lashes out again-

Sanson cries out. Blood spatters the stone floor. Guydelot swears, loosing an arrow, praying he didn't delay too long-

The poacher falls, taking the light she carried down with her, snuffing it out.

In the dark, Guydelot swears again, tucking his bow away with shaking hands. "Sanson?" He scrambles forward, nearly trips over the dying poacher. "Sanson?"

"I'm... I'm fine." Sanson's voice, shaky, is a lifeline. Guydelot follows it, until his hands find Sanson's in the blackness. Guydelot feels him, runs his hands shamelessly all over his lover's body, seeking the wound he knows is there. He finds the cut at the man's throat, still bleeding but not deep; not deep enough for the blood he saw when the poacher struck...

"Here." Sanson's hands are also trembling when he draws the bard's own hand to his cheek, letting Guydelot's fingers gently graze the deep gash along one cheekbone. The skin's hot beneath his touch, and sticky with blood.. It'll need a healer - a proper chirugeon, to see it stitched up.

Guydelot lets out an unsteady breath. "Hells." He chuckles. "That's gonna scar, Chief." He winds his arms around Sanson, presses a kiss to the man's forehead. Also too warm. The Matron alone knows what was on the poacher's knife. "Let's get you to a healer."

Sanson shudders in his arms. "We'll need to inform someone of her fate... see the body collected for her loved ones-"

"Aye." He gives the man one final squeeze, then releases him... only enough to steer him back down the tunnel. "But the living take priority, Chief, and you're still counted among them. March."

[oakthcrn]

The Grand Palace - Os Alta - Lark's POV

There was an angelic grace in the way his footfalls fell purposely against the pristine cobblestone of the Grand Palace. His beautiful, slender fingers were loosely laced in mine as he led me through the back gardens. The alluring smell of desserts mixed with fine wine perfumed the air. It was the Tsaritsa's name day and while Grisha were present in the grand ballroom, they had been there for no other purpose than guarding the royal family. The invitations had not been extended to the Little Palace to the chagrin of her fellow Grisha.

That never stopped Caelum, though. Once he had gotten something into his mind, there was no dispelling him of the consequences if we happened to be caught. I didn't want to earn the ire of General Kirigan. My name had earned a high spot on his list of mischievous Grisha, but in my defense, it hadn't been my intention to set the curtains on fire. I was startled during training. It earned me extended visits to Baghra's hut; much to my dismay.

Caelum guided me down the path, the beautiful euphony of notes and melodies from the grand orchestra grew louder, and a brimming excitement was fluttering in my chest. The idea of sneaking into a royal ball without an invitation was dangerous, and yet, it was Caelum who devised the plan, and I suspected it was done to please me. Stubborn fool.

Sweet, honeyed-colored eyes peered over the shoulder of his crimson kefta. A mischievous smile only grew on his handsome features. I fought the urge to reach over and run my fingers through his wavy champagne-colored hair. He knew he was handsome too, and used it for evil.

" Look, the garden is abandoned for the moment, my little firebird. " Saints, it always made me weak in the way he would affectionately call me that, even if my face showed indifference to it. Slowly, I found myself canting my head to the side.

" You do realize if we're caught, we'll be in huge trouble?"

" The risk is inconsequential and part of the fun...besides you have been going on and on about wanting to dance since the last fete. Now is our chance. "

I exhaled a soft breath. My fortitude of resisting him was waning, as it often did when he batted those hazel eyes my way. Anyone else would've gotten a lecture but Caelum had the uncanny ability to get his way.

Suddenly, I was pulled forward, lurching as his free hand snaked around my waist. I couldn't keep the smile from blooming across my face as I fell in step with him, our bodies pressed gently against one another. My feet followed his lead while a hand rested in his. His chest became a home for my head. I rested it there and even over the beautiful music of the orchestra, I could hear his heartbeat. A steady drumming of beats that melted my worries away. I nuzzled my face into the soft fabric of his healer's kefta. The tantalizing scent of juniper and scandalwood tickled my nose and lulled me into a sense of safety, my shoulders slumped and I was enthralled by Caelum.

Slowly we meandered in a circle. I could barely register the autumn chill as it tried to penetrate my kefta. Caelum leaned down to whisper into my ear.

" We could do it, Lark...we could run away from this place." His voice was soft and deep and pleasing to the ear, it sent an electrifying shiver down my spine; it lit every nerve awake and alert.

" Run away? Caelum...why would we do that? "

He twirled me then, and spun me into his arms, my back meeting with his chest. His lips returned to my ear, and planted a sweet kiss there. I prayed to the saints that my knees would not buckle. How easily his touch could elicit such from me. How rare a man that Caelum Mathis was. How rare and how foolish. Still, he smiled against my ear and spoke again.

" We could go to Ketterdam...get married and buy a farm. " His arms entangled around me, holding me close to his frame. I gently pivoted to lean into him and to listen to his heartbeat once more.

" We would have a farm? " I found myself asking. I slowly glanced up to get lost in those russet hues. His lips found purchase against mine, tender and soft, his kiss sent a warmth blossoming through my chest, my face, and neck. I had to close my fists to keep the flames from nicking my fingertips in delight. I felt my heart race as if I could melt into him and be made whole. He lifted his head to plant a soft kiss to my forehead.

" We could have whatever you desired, firebird. We could make a life there. Start a family...anything your heart desires. "

My heart swelled at his words. I had no idea he dwelled on such things, she never dared to give in hope but the way it sounded from Caelum's lips, I found I wanted it more and more.

Another kiss was shared. I could spend eternity in this moment, and have no regrets. I was about to step forward to steal another kiss when suddenly out of side of my eyes I saw a shadow. Turning quickly, a brewing dread grew as we came face to face with the second prince of Ravka. No older than I it seemed. He had opened his mouth to speak but I felt myself being pulled away. Caelum and I sprinted away and disappeared into the night.

" Was that the crowned prince? " I asked through the panting as we jogged back towards the Little Palace.

" So it seems, he must have come to visit for his mother's name day. "

" Let us hope he isn't in a tattling mood. " I grumbled as we turned down the path back to their home. I slipped my arm around Caelum's.

" So this farm...Will it have tiny pigs? "

" Anything you desire, flame heart. "

I couldn't keep the smile from spreading across my face. A farm in Kerch. Who could ask for more?

[talonslockau]

Fire and Ice - Chapter 45

Chapter 44 || Index || Chapter 46

 By the time Fireheart woke up, it was somewhere close to late day, the sun well past its height and heading towards the horizon. The storm had long since left, the clouds parting to reveal the blue skies beyond. Graystripe still slumbered, so he carefully crept out of the den and into camp to avoid waking him.

The Clan was hard at work repairing camp. Most of the cats he could see had cobwebs covering one or several injuries, and his own pelt stung with several claw marks, though he didn't remember where he had gotten them. Those with injured legs were working on the camp wall, while those with other wounds were likely out patrolling or hunting.

He saw Snowkit playing alone in one corner of camp, Speckleflight watching him carefully. After the morning's scare, he couldn't blame her. The elders were sharing tongues, no doubt immortalizing Brokentail's reign in their stories. Everything was peaceful for a change.

"Fireheart!" He turned to see Yellowfang crossing camp towards him. "You're finally awake. I'm running out of marigold and I need some extra paws to help me carry it." There was a glint in her dark eyes, and he knew he couldn't refuse her; not if he wanted to keep her on his side.

"Of course! I'd be glad to." He responded quickly. "Actually, are Dewpaw and Peppermask available? The more paws the better, after all." He pointed out steadily.

"Hmm. I don't know if we'll need that much." The old molly squinted at him for a moment, scrutinizing his intentions. "But maybe you're right. Leafbare is coming, after all. Fine. I'll go fetch my apprentice." The thick-furred healer turned and headed back towards her den, leaving Fireheart to find the warrior molly. After a moment he spotted her, working on the nursery with Cinderpaw.

"Peppermask!" He trotted towards her swiftly. "Yellowfang wants us to help her fetch some herbs. Can you come?"

The spotted tabby looked up as he spoke, blinking a greeting as he stopped in front of her. "Are you sure Cinderpaw wouldn't be better? She's quite energetic."

"Yes, please!" The sole apprentice begged, her eyes wide as she abandoned her bramble weaving. "I've been stuck in camp weaving brambles all day. I'm sick of it!"

"No offense, Cinderpaw, but I think Yellowfang would sooner drown you than listen to you the whole time." He shook his head sadly. "Besides, she asked for Peppermask specifically."

"Aw, mousedung." The apprentice grumbled, returning back to her work with a sigh. "Well, you two warriors have fun without me."

He winced at her words. "I'm sure you'll get your chance soon." He replied, turning away from her. He wasn't entirely sure what would happen then. Snowkit was close to being apprenticed, he supposed, but it would be moons until Goldenflower's kits were ready. "Anyways, let's hurry. You know Yellowfang doesn't like to be kept waiting."

They met with the two healers at the entrance to camp. "You found her? Good. Let's get going." With a lash of her tail, she led the other three out of camp and up the ravine.

They traveled silently, towards the Twolegplace, until they found a clearing of bright yellow flowers. Many of them were soaked by the morning's rainstorm, and several had been squashed by fallen branches. 

Still, there was plenty to gather, and Dewpaw immediately began doing so as Yellowfang turned to Fireheart. "So why did you lie about Ravenspirit?"

"What?" Peppermask bristled beside him. "What're you talking about?"

"Fireheart didn't get attacked by Brokentail on the border. None of us did. And I certainly didn't bury anyone." Yellowfang replied sourly, her nose wrinkled in disapproval. "So? Out with it!"

"He-" The spotted molly turned to him. "That's why you insisted on me, isn't it? Something happened with Ravenspirit." She tilted her head as she studied him. "Does it have to do with-"

"Tigerclaw was planning to kill him." Fireheart interrupted her before she could finish. "He outright said as much to him at the Moonstone. If he had stayed, he would have died."

"So he's alive then." He turned his ears to listen as Dewpaw spoke from where she was carefully stripping flowerheads. "That's good. I… I was worried I helped send him to his death."

"Hold on." Yellowfang interrupted incredulously. "Tigerclaw was planning to kill his own son?"

Fireheart stared at her. "Yea, because of Redtail." He explained hurriedly. "I thought you knew all this."

"Redtail?" Her copper eyes were baffled as she stared back at him. "What are you talking about?"

"The night Dewpaw was made a healer apprentice, you told me to keep quiet about it!" He responded, equally confused. What else could she have been talking about? "We were talking about Redtail, and then you said-"

"I was talking about the prophecy! You were going to blurt it out to the whole Clan!" Her fur bristled angrily. "I don't know what you're talking about with Redtail."

"What prophecy?"

"You mean you don't-" She caught herself after a moment and let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, Starclan."

All four of them looked at each other in confusion. "What prophecy?" Fireheart repeated. What was she talking about? He'd never heard of any sort of prophecy in his life.

"I honestly thought you knew. That's why you attacked Brokentail, is it not?"

"I attacked Brokentail because he was going to kill you!" The ginger tom shook his head in disbelief. "So you had no idea why Redtail was showing up?"

"No!" Yellowfang sat down, staring at him as myriad emotions swirled through her eyes. "Starclan above, that changes things."

"Maybe a little!" Fireheart turned his gaze over to the two sisters. "What prophecy? What even is a prophecy, anyways? Like, I've heard it in the elders’ stories, but an actual-"

"Sometimes Starclan speaks to us outside the Moonstone." Dewpaw cut in before he could stick his paw in his mouth. "They only do so when there's grave danger coming. Those are prophecies. They're very rare, though. Spottedleaf told me when I was a kit that the last one she received was about Bluestar." Her tail drooped at the mention of her mentor. He didn't blame her; though it seemed like ages ago, the healer had only died that morning. She hadn't had time to process her grief.

"Yes, that's correct." Yellowfang's gaze stared out into the forest. "Goosefeather was notorious for spouting them. Whether Starclan actually spoke to him or not, I cannot say." 

"Okay. So there was a prophecy about, what? Brokentail? I guess that makes sense." He had certainly pulled Starclan's attention, after all. Breaking the warrior code left and right, killing cats by the clawful - no wonder they thought the Clans were in grave danger.

"I suppose there's no point in hiding it, since it's been fulfilled." The dark gray healer finally looked back at him. "Fireheart, the prophecy was about you."

"Me?" He bristled in shock. "But why? I'm barely a warrior!" 

"You're more than that, in Starclan's eyes." She replied steadily, her eyes clearer now. "Fire alone can save our Clan. I received it less than a moon after Raggedstar's death. Brokentail had already begun pulling the Clan away from the warrior code when he assigned Badgerkit to be Spiderfoot's apprentice at three moons old. I knew Shadowclan was in danger."

Fireheart blinked, shock washing over him. He had heard that phrase before, when he had spoken to Redtail. But why would Redtail care about Shadowclan's problems? "So they knew that I would attack Brokentail?" He scoffed at that. "So what? It wasn't that big a deal. Someone else would have done it if I hadn't."

"I didn't know what it meant for a while." Yellowfang admitted. "I thought perhaps it was referring to a Shadowclanner, but I didn't know who. It wasn't until I was attacked by a young tom named Firepaw in Thunderclan territory that I began to understand."

"You're still holding that against me? I've apologized a dozen times!" Fireheart spat crossly. "If I could go back and undo it, I would!"

"But if you hadn't, we would have passed through your territory unnoticed. We may never have returned to the Clans." The old healer replied, her voice steady and clear as she spoke. "It was you who rescued Mosspaw and Volepaw and swayed Thunderclan's mind. And it was you that led the charge to chase out Brokentail, in the end." She shook her broad head with a soft smile. "Starclan was right. Fire saved Shadowclan from Brokentail."

"But- That's-" He frowned. He was an ordinary apprentice! At the time it was given, he had barely been accepted into Thunderclan - if he had even been part of the Clan at all! Why would Starclan pay attention to a lousy kittypet? He kneaded his claws in and out, not sure how to explain his disbelief.

"Starclan works in mysterious ways." The dark molly shrugged. "It is not up to us to know how they think. We can only interpret what they tell us."

"Can we go back to Ravenspirit being alive? And how Tigerclaw was about to kill him?" Peppermask interrupted them, her green eyes narrow as she stared at him. 

"I just told the Clan that so Tigerclaw doesn't try to find him." Fireheart explained quickly. "And even if he does find out Ravenspirit lives, he's far enough away that Tigerclaw won't come after him."

"Why does Tigerclaw want his son dead so badly?" Yellowfang interjected, shock creeping back into her eyes. "And what does that have to do with Redtail?"

"Tigerclaw killed Redtail because he wanted to be deputy instead, and Ravenspirit saw it." The new warrior told the clueless healer, trying to catch her up on the sordid events of recent moons quickly. "Ever since then, Redtail's been haunting us to do something about Tigerclaw and get revenge for him."

"Also, we were all apprentices when we found this out, and we didn't think Bluestar would believe us." Peppermask's green eyes were blazing as she glared at him. "And now that we're warriors and maybe earned her trust, you've gone and gotten rid of the only evidence we had!"

"We had to keep him safe!" Fireheart retorted. "Tigerclaw was actively plotting to murder him with Darkstripe. I overheard it right before we left for the Moonstone. We couldn't keep an eye on him all the time!"

"Yeah, but now what are we supposed to do? Tell Bluestar that the Clan's top warrior is a secret traitor, just trust us on that though?" She shook her head angrily, her tail lashing. "Now we're stuck in the same situation we were before!"

"There's got to be some other evidence. And Ravenspirit isn't even that far away." He huffed angrily back at her. "We'll figure it out. You're the smartest out of all of us, I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Yeah, but-" She broke off in a snarl, turning away from him. "Toms!" She spat out as she began pacing in a circle.

Yellowfang was watching and listening to their debate stoically, though he could tell her thoughts were racing. "And what about Redtail?" She asked. "You said he shows up in your dreams?"

"No, he shows up around here. Like he did in the healer's den, with Spottedleaf." He wished he could make the dead deputy show up and just explain things to Bluestar, but of course it could never be that easy. "Apparently he used to talk to Ravenspirit, when we were still apprentices, but now he mostly shows up behind my shoulder all threateningly."

"You don't say." Yellowfang responded dryly. "I never would have guessed."

He blinked in surprise at her tone as she spoke, before noticing her gaze staring past him. This time, when he turned around, he spotted Redtail staring at them from behind a tree, nearly blending into it with his tabby coat. Peppermask bristled beside him, while Dewpaw continued silently stripping flowers as she stared stoically at the ghostly tom.

"Redtail!" He snapped. "Why don't you come out and explain all this to Yellowfang, huh? Or better yet, Bluestar herself?" He took a step towards the calico tom. "Maybe actually help us get your revenge instead of spooking everyone for a change?"

As soon as he moved closer, the tom jumped away with a flash of his namesake tail, vanishing among the leaffall leaves. Fireheart knew better than to try chasing him. He could disappear into nothingness at any moment, so what was the point?

He sighed and turned back to Yellowfang. "I think that's about everything. Sorry that Thunderclan isn't the perfect Clan it appears to be."

"I knew that from the moment you broke my leg." The healer smirked as he groaned at the mention of his worst mistake. "But I certainly believe you. Stranger things have happened in the forest before, though it was usually when Goosefeather was involved." She sighed and shook her head bemusedly.

"So now that everything's out in the open, what do we do?" Fireheart asked the other three. "Ravenspirit might be able to return and speak up against Tigerclaw, but Peppermask is right. We should try and figure out some other form of evidence."

"If you want my advice, you've all done quite enough for the time being." He perked one orange ear towards Yellowfang as she spoke. "You've thwarted his plotting for now. I might be able to persuade Bluestar there's more to Tigerclaw than it seems, but that will take time, perhaps a few trips to the Moonstone." She shook her wide head slowly. "The best warriors know when to wait patiently."

Peppermask hesitated. "But- what if he goes after our dad? What's to stop him from killing another deputy?"

Fireheart grimaced at her questions. He had to admit she was right; now that Ravenspirit was out of the way, the dark tabby would see no more obstacles to his next victim.

"He has three warriors and both healers to protect him. I'm sure Redtail is watching over him as well." The old healer pointed out steadily. "They claim prey runs over the paws of those who wait. Perhaps Tigerclaw will do the same."

The spotted warrior didn't seem quite convinced, but nodded in agreement. "Very well. Waiting it is."

"How's that marigold coming, Dewpaw?" Yellowfang asked as she stood up and stretched. "We should probably be getting back. The vigils will be starting soon."

The healer's apprentice pushed a pile of bright yellow flowers towards them. "This should be enough for the whole season, if we're lucky." She remarked in her typical quiet voice. "Be careful picking them up. The more juice you can preserve, the better."

They each carefully collected a mouthful of the marigold, trying not to squeeze it too tightly as Dewpaw had requested. It was a slow walk back to camp, and by the time they entered camp the sun had almost set. Fireheart hurriedly deposited the flowers on the healer's stone workspace before rushing back out to see Graystripe exiting the warriors' den with a ferocious yawn.

"Fireheart!" The gray tom hurried over to greet his fellow warrior. "Dad woke me up. He said it's almost time for our vigil." 

"And the vigil for Spottedleaf and Ravenspirit." He looked to see Dappleshine emerge from the healer's den, followed by Yellowfang carrying Spottedleaf's body and Dewpaw behind her. Shortly after, Dustleap, Speckleflight and Sandstorm came out from the shadows to sit nearby. Ravenspirit's half-siblings and second adoptive mother, alongside Dappleshine, so it made sense they would all come to mourn the 'fallen' warrior. They sat in the middle of camp, a respectful distance from Spottedleaf, presumably sitting vigil for Ravenspirit even though they had no body.

"There you two are." It was Bluestar, deftly avoiding the mourners to speak to her two newest warriors. "It is time for you both to sit vigil until dawn. All cats in camp will be putting their lives in your paws, including those mourning the fallen." She stared at both of them sternly. "I expect I don't have to remind you two how important this night of listening is."

Fireheart shook his head quickly, and he could sense Graystripe beside him do the same. "Good. Go on, then." She flicked her tail to dismiss them, then turned and padded over to Spottedleaf's body. Of course she would mourn the calico; Spottedleaf had served as healer beside her for a long time. It was understandable she would want to see her off on the Startrail.

Fireheart padded over to sit beside the entrance to camp. Graystripe took a spot near the nursery, flicking an ear at what he assumed was the mewling of several kits inside. They met each other's gazes from across camp and nodded solemnly before looking back out over their home. 

Their vigil had begun.

[retphienix]

(a lot of) Oberon stuff

I decided instead of using my stockpile of forma for farming more kuva and tenet weapons for mastery rank fodder, I'd dump them into oberon because...I mean, why not

tbh, I just kinda like them. They were one of my first faves years and years ago and I haven't really touched them in years because, surprise surprise, they are/have been/continue to be kinda "mid" as power creep and buffs have spread to other frames.

AT LEAST for a layman player. Some tuber with maxed arcanes and 30k plat can probably post some build claiming Oberon is the best because he can't die, as if the arcanes aren't doing the heavy lifting lmao.

Despite that, they have always been my favorite support frame on an aesthetic and conceptual level, and I've always been annoyed that the druid healer frame is pretty much the worst healer in the game with Trinity spamming free full heals with free DR, Wisp being BUSTED (love her), and now Citrine just casually giving everyone free DR- HoTs as a passive- and orbs (also LOVE her).

ANYWAY, I sat down and theorycrafted some stuff, I was THIS close to putting my stockpile of umbra forma into him and just making him a pseudo tank that kept up phoenix renewal (maybe another day, and a second oberon prime lmao because I'm not overwriting all my hard work).

The plan was to basically push his armor and health to the extremes and just kinda, exist. Okay, saying it out loud sounds boring, so I'm glad I didn't do it, but I did really want to push his power strength high as hell while tagging on Primed Flow and some basic eff/duration to keep renewal going alongside all the beefed defenses.

I deleted that build idea so here's a mock up that's clearly inaccurate since it's lacking the flow etc but that tasty Effective Health was the goal (I'd have definitely used some staples like rolling guard etc instead of like gladiator resolve):

At the last minute I decided to do some browsing for other ideas and I came across some niche steel path gimmicks abusing quadratic scaling from ragdolling enemies interacting with his Reckoning augment.

tl;dr, stack enemies, use reckoning augment, silly funny extremely good things happen.

Now at first I figured the build just wasn't for me, but the more I thought on it, and the more I tweaked it for my own enjoyment and not just copying the max/min setup, the more it sounded interesting to try.

So I did it.

He's not done just yet, obviously. No subsume because the intended subsume is Gyre's to grant better energy economy and abuse the whole "ragdoll + reckoning = broken" thing, so I'm not even utilizing the interaction yet.

Also few shards, needs more shards.

Also it's still a work in progress- I'd like to toss on at least 1 go-to survival mod on him, but I haven't decided what I want to axe to do that. I'm thinking rolling guard for more leeway since he's shield gating (my first real build to abuse the mechanic) but figuring the values out on this build was tight enough without thinking "Oh, one more mod!" so we'll see. He can currently survive just fine in steel path content owed mostly to the CC of the mass radiation, tbh, and that might not even be an issue if the gyre interaction works out to just making everything too dead to hurt him in the first place. We'll see.

But the gist of him, as he currently exists, is pretty simple.

He nukes with his 4 and uses his 2 to ignore status / the need for primed sure footed on steel path builds.

The augment for his 4 is fucking fantastic thanks entirely to it scaling off range.

Too bad this patch note isn't right and it's still bugged and can revert to the 3m starting range whenever it wants in online content :/

Regardless, I mostly wanted to ramble on the short design journey on making this new build because the mid-point-result has been EXTREMELY fun to play lately.

Sure, he's not getting much use out of his renewal, and he's not enjoying the silly fun of smite infusion, and he's lacking some core parts to his build (that subsume is like 2 days out), BUT! As is, as a max range shield gating nuker, he's having a lot of fun. You know, when warframe doesn't decide to remove the range mod effect for no reason.

I honestly hadn't ever thought of making him into a nuker before, so mostly the novelty is making it fun.

I have only ever tried making oberon a mass CC gardener who keeps renewal up for that armor bonus, or a mass healer with eff/duration to allow it, or a smite infuser to assist groups with being weapon platforms.

Nuker never appealed to me because his 4 never appealed to me, his 2 and 3 were my faves and his 1 (with augment) was a simple radiation buffer.

Using his 4 so much and to such great effect is honestly just fun lol

Good stuff.