#(the healer relic set)

[wooawi]

‼️Honkai Star Rail Spoilers‼️

Ok, if I’m getting this right, Blade is chasing down Dan Heng not because Dan Feng did something bad to him, but because he thinks Dan Feng is running away from his crimes. They both planned out creating new Vidyadhara life and performed their (highly illegal and taboo) experiment on Baiheng (��the beloved”) when she was killed in battle because they didn’t want to lose her. She was then reborn as Bailu (“an abomination”), a half Foxian or human(?), half Vidyadhara creature. And somehow, that ended with Yingxing becoming Blade (mara-struck) and Dan Feng getting caught and punished.

So Blade being mara-struck and subsequently losing his mind made him either forget or miss Dan Feng’s punishment (imprisonment and forced molting). As a result, he thinks Dan Feng absconded the scene of the crime to live as Dan Heng. Now he’s chasing down Dan Heng to make sure the proper punishment is dealt.

At the same time, Jingliu’s chasing him, as we can see from Yanqing’s story quest. Sometime between Blade waking up with immortality to him losing his mind, Jingliu killed him thousands of times. She tortured him for ages, reason unknown. (Might have something to do with Yingxing being partly responsible for Baiheng’s resurrection as a monster, the same monster Jingliu had to kill. Or, could just be for funsies lmao).

Every time Blade and Jingliu meet up (or she finds him), they spar to the death. And each and every time, Blade survives and either escapes or is let go.

Speaking of Jingliu, there’s also her phrase Blade keeps repeating. Of 5 (the High Cloud Quintet), 3 must pay a price for committing the sin of immortality. Blade/Yingxing with immortality and becoming mara-struck, Dan Feng with imprisonment and forced molting, and Baiheng with becoming an abomination. But Blade thinks Dan Feng hasn’t paid yet.

.

.

.

Damn, I know Blade’s going insane and is barely hanging on to his memories, but come on man. Who fakes their own death to escape a crime and starts a new life with only one letter of their name changed?

[aria0fgold]

I wanted to show how powerful my Luocha got with the Fun :) save file I have so I went full on lethality with the supports. My dear e1 Bronya + her bis lc alongside an e5 Stelle and a borrowed e2 Ruan Mei + her bis lc with my dear healer e2 Luocha + his bis lc against boss Yanqing.

I didn't expect him to deal FIVE MILLION DAMAGE THOUGH!

[callsign-rogueone]

faking it - s.h.

Sawyer Henrick x healer!reader  When Sawyer's friends hear that an infantry guy has been bothering you, they suggest an unconventional way to get him to leave you alone. words: 1.7k 🏷: Iron Flame spoilers in future chapters, feminine healer reader who was childhood friends with Sawyer (no pronouns used here, but future chapters will use she/her), mentions of needles (one immunization), mentions of harassment from an original character, Sawyer has a huge crush on you, and his entire squad ships it, fake-dating trope. here begins the story of Sawyer and Peach! I hope y’all like her 🥺

You fight the urge to yawn as you continue to restock the bandages and straighten things up for the day — you didn’t sleep well, and you’ve never been a fan of the early mornings that the war college requires. 

It could be worse, you tell yourself. You could still be working nights like you did your first year. That was even more exhausting.

There’s a soft knock on the doorframe. “Is Cadet Lowen working today?”

Your classmate bristles, drawing herself up to her full height, but it isn’t very intimidating�� she’s even smaller than Violet. “Who’s asking?” 

You laugh, setting the box down and smoothing out the creases in your pale blue robes. “It’s okay, Sarah. He’s a friend.”

He gives her a disarming smile, but she still eyes him with suspicion for a few seconds before she disappears into the other room. 

You instantly start checking him over for injury, but it’s too hard to see anything under all that black fabric and leather.

He smiles. “I’m fine. I just came to give you this. I don’t know if they’re still your favorite, but…”

You take the small paper bag he’s holding, that cute little concerned frown quickly turning into a grin as you see the blueberry muffin inside — just like your mom used to make. “Thank you. What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion. Just making sure you’re taking care of yourself,” he answers, blushing. There’s a moment of silence before he starts to bail out. “I know you’ve been busy, let me get out of your hair-”

You don’t want him to leave.

“Did you get your flu shot yet?” you interrupt.

He laughs at your spontaneity. “I did not,” he answers truthfully.

You put the bag down, moving to go wash your hands. “Sit.”

“I brought you the perfect muffin, and you still want to stick me with a needle?” he asks.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “It’s for your own good, and the good of the quadrant. Unless you can’t take a little pinch…”

He straightens up a bit, scoffing. “Of course I can.”

You smile. You know exactly how to get these army boys in line. Pride is the biggest motivator they’ve got; they’re always eager to prove that they can handle whatever task at hand.

“Your full name and date of birth please, sir?” you ask, picking up a clipboard.

He knows you know it, but he humors you anyway — it’s cute seeing you in nurse mode. “Sawyer Henrick, July 15th, 612.”

You write it down as he unbuttons his shirt, pulling one arm out of its sleeve.

Your heart races at the glimpse of the rider’s relic spanning his back; a swath of bright red contrasting with his pale skin. You certainly don’t remember him being this strong, either — all that crazy shit they make riders do has paid off, you suppose.

You take a moment longer than appropriate to get the tension out of the muscle before making the injection and smoothing a bandage over the skin. “All done.”

“Do I get a sticker?” he asks, clearly joking.

You rip your eyes away as he does the buttons back up, turning to wash your hands again. “Fresh out, sorry. I’ll give you a rain check.”

You need to get him the hell out of here before your classmates start asking questions, and before he melts the rest of your brain. “Thank you for the muffin.”

“Thank you for the flu shot.”

You can’t help but smile at him. “I really missed you, you know. I’m glad our paths crossed again.”

“I missed you too, peach.” There’s a pause as he works up the courage. “Do you want to come to town with me and my squadmates on Saturday? They all really liked you.”

While the land-nav exercise hadn’t gone according to plan at all, you’d still enjoyed your time with them. “I’d like that.”

“Alright,” he says with that shy smile you’ve missed so much. “Meet you at the front gates around three?”

“Sounds like a plan. Now scoot,” you prod gently. “I’m sure everyone is wondering where you ran off to.”

He glances at the clock — he’s definitely going to be late for battle brief, but the scolding from Dain will be worth every minute.

He gives you one last soft smile before he leaves, one you’ll be thinking about all day.

------------------------------------------------------------

Sure enough, he finds you waiting outside at three o’clock sharp.

It’s been years since he’s seen you in civilian clothes. You look exactly how he remembers you, only somehow even more beautiful. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, he supposes.

You’ve swapped out the healers’ robes for something more fitted and more seasonally appropriate, a new pair of denim pants and a sleeveless light purple tunic. You’d even let your hair down for the occasion, leaving it out of the usual no-nonsense style you’re required to wear during your shifts.

Him and his friends are all dressed in their usual solid black. “I guess I didn’t get the memo,” you jest.

Violet smiles. “Don’t worry. It’s nice to see some color every now and then.”

You bring a hand up to swat away a fly, and Rhiannon’s eyes widen. “You guys are allowed to paint your nails?”

“There’s all kinds of rules about what colors and how long they can be, but yeah. I do them every Sunday afternoon. It makes me feel pretty, even with those terrible robes on,” you laugh.

Sawyer pushes down a remark about how you’re always pretty, clearing his throat instead. “Everyone ready?”

There’s a chorus of agreement from the squad. 

It isn’t long before you’re all sitting around a table at the tavern, laughing over stories from your years at the school. “And then I told her that if she wanted to act like that, she should-”

The door opens, the small bell hung on it jingling. Everyone watches you fall silent, pressing your lips together and shrinking yourself as small as you can until the group of infantry passes. They head off to the bartop, out of sight, and you finally let out the breath you’d been holding.

“Are you okay? You look like a sheep that just saw a riot of dragons walk by,” Ridoc says, but there’s no humor in his tone.

You shift in your seat for a moment, uncomfortable, but the way your new friends are all looking at you with genuine concern has you admitting the truth. 

“I stitched up the blond — James — a month ago, and now he thinks we’re soulmates or something. He keeps showing up at the infirmary with his friends, asking me on dates, and I keep turning him down, but he won’t take no for an answer. I’ve considered faking my own death just to get him to leave me alone,” you joke, but it’s obvious that you don’t find it funny. “It’s starting to freak me out.”

Violet frowns. “Have you talked to Nolon about it?”

“I have, but we can’t refuse care to anyone, so we’ve just been saying I’m busy and having the other girls deal with him, but they shouldn’t have to do that. I’ve tried everything. He just doesn’t seem to understand that I’m not interested.”

“Maybe not everything,” Rhiannon offers.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, those kind of guys won’t listen to you, but they will listen to another dude. They need to see another guy on your arm, because they don’t respect you as a person, but they will respect another man’s claim to you.”

Everyone looks at her, quizzical.

“I’m not saying it’s right,” she says, putting her hands up in defense, “I’m just saying it’s true. Get yourself a boyfriend, or a fake one, even, and he’ll back off, guaranteed.”

You chew your lip, pensive. “That might work. But I’ve been too focused on studying to go on any dates. I don’t know anyone who would be willing to…”

“Look to your left,” Ridoc offers dryly, taking a sip of his drink.

You glance over at Sawyer. Are they really suggesting…?

“It’s a logical choice,” Violet adds, shrugging. “You two already know everything about each other.”

You can’t quite read the look on his face, but it’s clear from his reddened cheeks that he’s uncomfortable. You shake your head quickly. “I couldn’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me do anything. I’d be helping you, because I care about you, and because that guy’s a fucking creep.”

You’ve never heard him sound so firm before.

Your gaze drifts back to the bartop, where James is still sitting with his friends, several empty glasses in front of them. You’ve never seen him drunk before, but you know it can’t be pretty. 

He laughs, too loudly, likely at some crude joke his friend had made, clapping the other boy on the back. 

You wince, sinking deeper into the worn upholstery and praying they don’t see you, but you stick out in the crowd of riders and infantry — you’re the only person in the room who isn’t wearing all black, save for the bartenders.

“Breathe,” Sawyer coaxes, laying a hand on your knee beneath the table. It simultaneously soothes your anxiety and gives you butterflies, a feeling you can’t really describe.

You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Sorry,” you manage, offering them a weak smile. “Didn’t mean to kill the mood.”

“Don’t apologize,” Ridoc says gently. “you’re one of us now, and we look out for our own.”

“He’s right,” Sawyer adds. “I promise I will do everything I can to get this guy gone, but I don’t want to cross any boundaries. We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. You’ll be one hundred percent in control here, okay?”

You nod, entranced by the softness in his eyes as he looks over at you. “Okay,” you agree quietly.

“Attagirl,” he praises, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

You think your heart might give out.

“That’s actually really believable,” Violet comments with a soft smile, snapping you out of your train of thought and reminding you that you have an audience.

You tear your eyes away from Sawyers’, picking your drink back up. He moves his hand from your leg, resting his arm on the back of your chair as the conversation resumes, Ridoc bringing everyone back into a light mood again with another terrible joke.

This could work, you decide, but it could also go horribly, terribly wrong.

[theladyofbloodshed]

Hunt x Nesta - Epilogue

Life sucked.

Hunt could split his life into two chapters: before Nesta and after Nesta. Both chapters sucked. But that little blip in the middle – the one week where life had been better than he ever expected was good. He’d always have that.

‘Stop moping, my goodness.’

Isaiah groaned from his desk then dropped his forehead onto the cheap wood.

‘Everything reminds me of her,’ Hunt replied, holding up a sugar sachet from the crappy coffee machine.

It was true. Hunt could draw a correlation to Nesta regardless of the topic; she liked it, she would have hated it, he wished he could show her it, they’d tried it.

He had loved Shahar but it had been intense from the start. The rebellion had intensified every moment of it, pushing them both towards a zenith that he free-fell from. Losing her was different. It was a loss that held finality – but Hunt had lost so many that day, had suffered so much as a result, the grief had been for Shahar and all the others who'd fought alongside him.

To Shahar, he had been Hunt, a powerful angel plucked from the bowels of Pangea to command her legions.

This was different.

To Nesta, he’d only ever been Orion. Grumpy, sleepy, teasing, serious, or goofy, she’d wanted all of him. And Nesta wasn’t dead but it would have hurt less if she was.

Night after night, Hunt scoured the internet on any whiff of something similar to the Horn to try and find a way back to her. He’d deal with breeches and no hair dryer if it meant they were together again. He’d even wondered if Ruhn Danaan would know anything about another fae relic because Isaiah couldn’t be persuaded to get another warrant to search the Autumn King’s home for hidden artefacts.

‘I know that you miss her, Hunt, but it’s just not possible to find her again,’ he said calmly.

Those same words had been said to him a month earlier, also by Isaiah, when he’d found Hunt deliberating in the street. He’d gathered is hard-earned coins ready to dump them all in the Astronomer’s lap so that he’d use his mystics to locate her. In the end, it proved too risky. Hunt wouldn’t dare to expose Nesta that way.

‘It fucking sucks,’ replied Hunt before shuffling back to his desk for a long night of paperwork.

When Nesta left, Hunt expected a depression to come and drown him. He’d been there before and it always lurked in his periphery. But she’d given him hope and it felt different. The light didn’t abate in her absence; the flame remained burning. So he worked and worked. Did what Micah asked. Treaded every single line without complaint. And he thought of her. Thought of her smile, her curiosity, the way she had him wrapped around her finger in a single day.

***

‘What now?’

Emerie’s brown eyes had dulled from their week of absolute hell. She sat on the cushioned windowsill of the river estate with mud still caked over her face. Nesta looked down at her own hands. They were splattered with a mix of blood. Some was hers, Cassian’s, Bellius’, and Feyre’s.

Her stomach was empty enough that it hurt. She’d see a healer soon. Gwyn had the worst injuries so was with Madja in a separate room.

A small cry rang out down the hall from the baby boy, Nyx.

Feyre had died. Her heart had stopped beating. Nesta had felt the whole world turn colder, felt the knife coming for Feyre’s thread, so Nesta did the only thing she could think of. Still beaten and ruined from the Blood Rite, she gave her power back. She gave it all back.

And Feyre lived. The boy lived.

Nesta wedged her aching body into the windowsill next to Emerie, wishing they were a different set of wings cradling her shoulders.

It had been a tough few months since her little jaunt to Lunathion.

To his credit, Lucien did not speak of what he saw. He simply pretended the entire event had never happened and acted with all the quality of one the males from Fangs and Bangs when it was discovered by the others that Nesta had returned. It was their secret, never to be mentioned. She was grateful for that.

None ever questioned her moroseness because it was no different to her capricious ways. She could feel herself pushing everybody away, as always, week after week without Hunt’s infectious joy. The idea of Cassian touching her churned her stomach. She’d put an end to it, dumbfounding him. And when her sister’s family had convinced her to seduce Eris through dance, it confirmed to Nesta that all she would ever be was a pawn to be used for their benefit. When Eris had shown interest, Nesta had considered it if only to have a lifeline out of the Night Court.

‘I don’t even know if it will work,’ Nesta said quietly, tilting her head to touch Emerie’s.

The pair of them absolutely reeked. Being dragged from their beds and dumped onto Ramiel for a week would do that. Only sheer grit and hoping had kept them alive. That, and Gwyn bringing a beast to slaughter eight of the Illyrians.

‘It’s worth a try,’ replied Emerie.

They’d huddled together in the dark, cold and tired but not willing to sleep. And Nesta had told Emerie and Gwyn everything about the male she’d found in Lunathion. How she could not even go an hour without thinking of him, without imagining a life together. They’d listened with rapture, delighted for her as true friends were. Even when she cried at the thought of leaving them behind, they encouraged her to take her chance if they made it out alive because they loved her enough to let her go and find happiness.

‘It’s complicated.’

‘What’s complicated? Toot the horn and fly off with your angel.’

Gwyn limped into the room in her filthy clothes. ‘Who’s tooting? Are we tooting?’

‘Nesta’s about to go to the future with her angel lover.’

Instead of indignation, colour heated her cheeks and she felt like a giggling, love-struck fool. ‘He is so handsome.’

The cell phone had died quickly from all the moments that Nesta had spent agonising over photos of the Umbra Mortis in his boxers, as he called them.

‘So we have heard,’ Emerie replied drily.

Nesta shoved her heart back into its cage. ‘It’s impossible. I’ve surrendered my power. The Horn won’t work. Hunt is a slave. It’s been almost four months. He could be sold by now to another owner.’

‘Then buy him back,’ urged Gwyn.

‘With what?’

Emerie braced a hand against her ribs as she stood. ‘Well, the High Lord did offer you anything for saving their lives.’

‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘Rhysand would never agree to let me go, much less give me a pile of his wealth to send me on way. They still think Cassian is my mate. That the bond will snap. If it didn’t snap when Briallyn had him try to kill me, it never will – and I thank the stars for that.’

The words hung heavy. It had been one horrific moment after the other. Cassian bellowing at her on a bridge crossing the Sidra that she was his, despite her refusals. Morrigan delivering her to Emerie and Gwyn as she trembled. Waking disorientated in the Blood Rite. Staring down Bellius as she held Ramiel’s pass. Briallyn controlling Cassian with the Crown, trying to kill her. Only the Mask coming to her rescue again had saved her life.

‘I made a list the other day of all the things I’d like to do in Prythian. Do you know what I wrote?’ At her friends’ expectant faces, she continued, ‘Finish my book. I have no desires or dreams here. I am simply an object.’

‘What did you write for the other side?’

The corners of her mouth twitched. ‘So many things. There are things I want to do that I don’t even know exist yet. I want to go to the amusement park with Hunt. To study. I’d study for my whole life. I want to throw my cap in the air when I’ve finished studying. I want to live with Orion – I want a life with him like I’ve never dreamed of a male before. I didn’t kiss him enough.’

‘It was not only the High Lord’s life you saved, Nesta,’ Emerie reminded her. ‘There is a High Lady of the Night Court.’   

***

Silver light poured into the room like molten metal, so bright that Hunt needed to shield his eyes from the glare.

A low, hissing noise had him scurrying from his bed and pressing his wings to the cream wall in anticipation.

‘What the fuck.’

The wall opposite was flooded with a silver fire that chilled him to the bone. The narrow window above his bed frosted over. On his exhale, his breath was visible.

Then she was there.

The fire fell away, revealing an ornate library with rows of leather-bound books. Light streamed in from the massive bay windows, bathing Nesta in its glow. Like the first day that Hunt had seen her, Nesta was other-worldly. Instead of tight leathers that sinfully kissed every curve, she wore a pale lavender dress with a square-cut neckline. Her hands were buried in the long sleeves although Hunt spotted the tip of the horn poking from beneath. The draping skirts couldn’t hide the sneakers that she’d bought in Lunathion and declared the comfiest shoes she’d ever tried.

‘Tell me I’m dreaming,’ Hunt murmured.

Twice, Nesta’s lips parted then sealed again. Tears rimmed her grey eyes.

‘Nesta,’ he said, stepping closer to the fiery portal. The hairs on his arm stood from the seeping cold that surrounded it.

A soft gasp emitted from her side and two females came into view, ushered into the library by the same male he’d seen months ago with red hair and a metallic eye. One cradled a baby to her chest. This had to be Feyre; she had the unmistakeable look of her older sister although freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose and her hair hung freely. A swirling, black tattoo covered the hand that stroked her son’s wings. The other female was darker haired with large brown eyes reminding Hunt of a faun.

‘It worked?’ Feyre asked.

‘Obviously,’ the male replied, making Elain giggle and cover her mouth to hide it.

Hunt took another step closer to Nesta who was still immobilised. In the chairs behind her were two more females. Hunt had heard all about them. The winged one was Emerie and the red-haired one was Gwyn. Nesta’s face had lit up as she spoke of her only friends in Prythian when they’d been together.

‘Hey, Starlight,’ he said, reaching his hand through to her side. He jerked his chin towards her sister and the baby. ‘They made it.’

‘They made it,’ Nesta repeated, face twisting with emotion. ‘I gave up my power for them. I didn’t know if this would still work. I had to choose between seeing you again and saving them.’

‘And everybody won,’ he said, grasping her shaking hand.

It took every instinct not to haul her through to his side and kiss her until every star went out.

Nesta did that for him.

From the force that she yanked him to her, Hunt was practically falling. His hands found her waist to steady himself and he could feel her breath on his cheek as he pulled himself upright. Their bodies knocked together, the softness of her curves feeling like home.

‘I missed you.’

‘There has been nobody to laugh with.’ He touched his forehead to hers. ‘There was a national crisis because demand for ice cream plummeted since you left.’

When Hunt moved to kiss her, he stilled. There were markings on her neck, a fresh cut that still had the scab on her cheek and more wounds on her hands. They had to be recent because fae healed as fast as malakim.

‘What the Hel has happened? Are you alright? Who hurt you?’

The two females in the chair exchanged a glance then he noticed that both of them had been wounded recently too. Emerie had a bruise above her eyebrow that caused the lid to swell and Gwyn’s hands were bound in bandages.  

‘It’s alright,’ Nesta murmured, holding his hands in hers. ‘Something happened. I was taken. The three of us. We woke in the Blood Rite.’

‘I don’t know what that is.’

Surprising him, Nesta broke into a laugh. It skittered over his skin like static.  

‘What’s funny?’

‘That’s what I say to you, Orion.’

The male, Lucien, cleared his throat from his post at the door. ‘Nesta, I don’t know how long it will be open – or until they notice.’

‘Right,’ she said, nodding. ‘It was hell. All of it. That week on the mountain and all the months before. All I wanted was you. I told my friends that if we survived, if we made it through each night, I would find you.’

From the three-legged table, Nesta picked up a rolled-up piece of parchment. There was a line down the middle, splitting it into two columns. In an elegant script, lines upon lines of text had been written.

‘I wrote why I should stay here or why I should leave. There is danger on both sides, uncertainty, and it feels like leaping into the unknown. This is the world I know. My sisters are here. But the difference is in Lunathion, I will have you. And that makes all the difference, Hunt.’ She clutched the paper tighter. ‘I don’t care. All I want is you.’

When his day began, Hunt didn’t have Nesta appearing and offering him a forever on his bingo card. He blew out a breath. ‘Nesta, I’m a slave. I can’t give you a home. I don’t even know who my father is. If you want a life of comfort, you’re better off with Tristan Flynn.’

There was a brilliant shine of determination in her eyes. ‘I want a male who will love me.’

He’d loved her the moment she’d dropped out of the sky and told Isaiah she was a bard. These months without her had felt like living without the sun. He’d do another two hundred years in gorsian shackles strung up in the Asteri’s dungeon rather than spend another moment without Nesta.

Hunt stepped back through the portal to his room in the barracks and pulled out a prospectus for Crescent City University along with guidance on how to apply for funding. He’d gathered them just in case Nesta ever came back. He’d pulled legislation on the minimal rights of slaves. As long as Hunt answered when called, slaves could rent a property – they couldn’t own it, but it was a start, so he’d saved every penny of his pitiful wages, took double shifts and worked on his allotted days off to scrape together a few more coins because Nesta had given him that piece of hope that he hadn’t had before.

On the desk, there was photo album that he’d been compiling. It had provided an outlet instead of moping. Hunt had channelled all of his dreams into it.

‘There’s still space for more,’ he said, stepping back through and handing it to Nesta.

Her sisters and the other females peered over her shoulder at it. Every single photo that Nesta had taken on her cell and his, no matter how blurred, had been printed out and stuck in with his terrible handwriting beneath with a caption. Hunt had written about their day, about what she’d said, where they’d been or what they’d eaten. There was one of her bending down with the Istros in the background as Hunt had tried to get a scurrying otter in shot with her – but ended up with a smear of brown and yellow flopping into the river.

‘You look in pain there,’ said Elain, pointing to one.

‘She couldn’t decide on a milkshake flavour.’

Nesta’s lips quirked as she looked at the photo. ‘I regret banana.’

‘Is that why you drank mine?’

There were photos of him too. Ones she had taken. Ones that were blurry or zoomed in too far or ones in the elevator when she discovered that she could use the mirror to capture both of them. One of him with his fluffed-up wings and that rotten witch-ink halo on full display. One of them snuggled up on the bed on a pile of pillows. Lots of them together; Nesta appearing regal and poised whilst he looked surly or goofy to annoy her. One of Nesta in her gown before the ballet with Ruhn that she’d taken of herself in the bathroom mirror. A few of her when she’d put a cat-eared filter on and couldn’t work out how to take it off. Some even of Ruhn when he was driving, trying to block the camera with his tattooed hand.

‘I thought that was Rhys.’

Nesta chuckled, ‘So did I – and I gave him hell for it.’

‘They’re coming,’ said Lucien from the window where he’d been observing the skies. ‘They’ve likely felt the shift in the wards.’

On the horizon, three black shapes were moving quicker, wings beating rapidly.

Nesta turned to him, silver eyes shining with hope. ‘Will you have me?’

‘You were mine the day you fell from the stars. I love you. You think I make photo albums for every girl that lands in the middle of the road?’

Nesta silenced him with a kiss that surprised everybody in the room.

‘My bags are packed. I’ve already said goodbye.’

‘You’ll have to flirt with Flynn to get his credit card again,’ he said, grimacing slightly. ‘It will be centuries until I can afford somewhere for us to live.’

Feyre shook her head. ‘Finances are handled.’

‘I’m paying for your freedom,’ Nesta said resolutely. ‘There may only be one Umbra Mortis but I’m the bitch who stole from the Cauldron. That has to count for something.’  

 What she was, was a pillar of steel that could never be broken. Hunt didn’t care if she was sharp or unyielding, she was his Nesta. His girl from the stars.

Hunt slid his hands to her face, kissing her deeply. He didn’t care if her sisters watched. Didn’t care if the winged female whistled loudly at them. He had waited months to feel her again, to hold her.

‘We need to go,’ Nesta urged.

The two females had moved back to the chairs and exchanged a glance as the roof shook. A heavy landing. Feyre clutched her son to her chest, eyes going vacant as if listening to something else.

Three bags had been prepared and neatly tucked beneath the table. On her direction, Hunt hauled them up and through the portal back into the barracks. The final one tested his strength. It was bulky and ridiculously heavy, but with five females watching him, Hunt pretended the weight didn’t surprise him even if his muscles strained.

‘Are you bringing your Harp, bard?’

‘No. Only the Horn to close it then we’ll destroy it.’

Hunt pretended he didn’t just hear Nesta declare that she was about to break a priceless fae artefact that would have Einar Danaan, Micah, and the Asteri string her up from a dungeon for touching it.

They were doing this.

A cold sweat rippled down his back. They were really doing this. In the face of an archangel, a fae prince, and whatever the Asteri were, Hunt and Nesta were doing this for real.

His fingers enclosed around her wrists as steps grew closer. ‘Are you sure? You’ve known me a week.’

‘I have the rest of my life to know you,’ she said, before kissing him tenderly again. ‘Orion Athalar, you are my home. Maybe I fell that day, rattling the stars, because I was searching for you.’

The door swung open and shadows flooded in, sweeping the rugs of the library like a tidal wave that could no longer be held back. The first male had slicked back black hair and sparkling eyes so blue they appeared violet.

‘Shit, he does look like Ruhn,’ said Hunt.

In a soft voice, he said, ‘What is this?’

Two more males filed in, taking care to manoeuvre their large, leathery wings through the wooden doorway. These were the Illyrians she had spoken of which meant one was Azriel, who’d handed her a bag too heavy for her to manage, and the other was Cassian, a male who Hunt would delight in hurting.

Immediately, Hunt catalogued the subtle changes in Nesta. Whilst he would have expected her spine to go straighter, her chin to lift in defiance, instead Nesta curled in on herself as if she was deflating. Her shoulders hunched, making herself smaller and a flat, empty expression took up residence on her pale face.

The high lord’s eyes flashed to the Horn in Nesta’s hands. With a jolt of magic that Hunt felt fire across the room, he tried to lurch the Made item from her grip but it stayed firmly in her hand.

‘You have opened a portal to another world,’ he said, voice low and edged with warning. ‘You are endangering the lives of everybody in this city, Nesta. Endangering my mate and our son.’

Hunt couldn’t take it. It was as if all of the air was being pressed from the room. The two Illyrian sentries stood silent either side of their high lord in a display of cruel dominance. Neither would speak for Nesta. Hunt looked again to the females. Her two sisters were mute. The red-haired male had taken a not-so-subtle step closer to Elain, an arm extending ready to shield her. The other two females were as pale and timid as Nesta had become in their chairs; the winged one settled a hand on Gwyneth’s knee in reassurance as shadows lashed at the walls.  

These fae pricks.

‘Who the fuck do you think you are?’

The urge to let his lightning loose was an instinct that proved difficult to deny – but not when Nesta was in the firing line, nor a child and a male with a metal eye that would send his lightning haywire.

The high lord blinked in disbelief then took a step closer to Nesta.

Lightning wreathed his hands in response. ‘Don’t even fucking think about it.’

‘If it hits Nesta?’

Hunt could play that game. He went into the place where Micah sent him where it was cold and empty. ‘If it hits your son? Your mate?’

He let the static tighten the room so strands of their hair rose. Hunt pulled the clouds closer, bringing in a storm from the mountains which darkened the room. Rain pattered upon the glass.

The male to the high lord’s left tilted his head, back hair falling across his pensive face. The blue stones on his leathers pulsed. ‘What are you?’

‘He’s not Peregryn,’ the male with red stones said.

He kept his brown eyes fixed on the threats in the room while he spoke softly to Nesta. ‘Go through, Starlight. We’ll go to the movies tonight. I realised you never tasted popcorn.’

The weight of her decision pressed on her. That, or the arrogant bastards shooting daggers at her.  

‘We can make out on the back row too.’

That shifted something in Nesta, like the final screw coming loose. She exhaled with relief and edged towards him. Hunt stretched out his arm towards her to sweep his love behind him, behind his wings, so she could step through safely to the barracks as if they were negotiating the transfer of a hostage.

‘Baby, can you get my gun? It’s in the holster at the bottom of the bed.’

With a trembling hand, Nesta placed the gun in the hand that was outstretched behind himself. Magic was great, but nothing could quite replace a steel kiss. Hunt cocked his weapon, keeping it trained on the high lord.

‘Which one’s Cassian?’

Likely the male whose face was purpling as he stared at Hunt like he wanted to wrap his hands around his throat. Join the club, buddy, Hunt thought.

‘The red stones?’

None in the room gave an acknowledgement to his words. He didn’t want this to turn into a standoff but now that Hunt was here, facing the bastards who’d made Nesta’s life a misery for the last couple of years, he couldn’t resist being a dick. The Umbra Mortis had earned his reputation. He’d survived torture and a failed rebellion. And he was going to have a beautiful future with his gorgeous Nesta – but first, these males needed to atone.

‘Listen, these ladies look as if they’ve seen enough violence so I’ll refrain from blasting your brains out on these lovely rugs, but you owe my girl an apology.’ Over his shoulder, Hunt asked, ‘Does Lucien need to say sorry?’

‘Hunt, don’t bother. Let’s just close it.’

‘Does Lucien need to say sorry?’ he repeated.

Nesta gave a sigh. ‘No. Lucien is fine.’

‘Good male,’ he said, offering a slight wink in the scarred-one’s direction.

A shadow that had been creeping along the skirting board made to lunge towards him but Hunt hit it with a bolt of lightning that crippled it. The male who’d bejazzled his leathers with blue stones winced as if he felt the blow too. Aha, that was the shadowsinger. Red stones was the prick who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.

‘Alright, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to say sorry to Nesta then I’m leaving with her. We’re going to have a beautiful life together and never come back to this place again.’ Hunt gave a dramatic sigh. ‘If I’m honest, I think it’s less about my company and more about the fact you three have made her life so miserable here that she's willing to leave.’

‘That’s not true,’ Nesta called, and he caught the slight playful edge in her tone. ‘I want to go to university too.’

Little minx.

The three males were carved from stone. Every now and then, Hunt felt something trying to edge towards his mind like a tendril of smoke but his lightning zapped it without thought.

‘My finger is getting really sweaty holding back this trigger.’

The gun wasn’t even loaded – safety protocol – but if these fae were as clueless as Nesta had been, they’d have no idea.

‘Nesta, I am sorry that we did not extend the same warmth to you as we did to your sisters. I’m truly sorry that after the war, we were not a support for you.’

‘Well done, blue stones. Next one.’

The high lady shuffled the baby who was growing restless in her arms. ‘Is this necessary?’

‘Yes. Next question.’

Hunt lashed his lightning towards the males’ feet, making them leap back a step. Damn, he wished he recorded the sudden bloom of fear on their arrogant faces.

‘I’m sorry that I loved you,’ Cassian said. ‘I’m sorry that I gave you everything I could and it still wasn’t enough. Nes, what are you doing? In this life, we can have our time together. Think of our future.’

‘Didn’t you make her walk until she collapsed?’

The male blanched. ‘It was for her own good.’

‘No,’ Hunt uttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘I can't do this. I need to go before I shoot you.’

Behind him, Nesta’s snort of laughter was the confirmation that Hunt needed. Nesta would never get the apology that she deserved from this male – but the promise of a future free from him was good enough. A future with Hunt meant more.

His wings scooped low, tucking towards his spine, as Hunt took a backwards step. The cold bite of Nesta’s magic that surrounded the portal edged closer. He hoped he would look cool departing the library and wouldn’t fall on his ass through to the other side.

Once back in Lunathion, Hunt stood at Nesta’s side, proud to do it.

‘We won’t come here again,’ said Nesta, voice growing stronger with every word. Her eyes bounced between her friends and her sisters. ‘I love you but this is best for me. I wish you all the love in the world.’

Nesta lifted the horn to her lips and Hunt prayed to Luna that she’d hit that note on the first try or he’d laugh his ass off again. His hand enclosed around her fist, raising it in the air.

‘This is how we say bye in my world, assholes.’

Hunt prised Nesta’s middle finger up to flip them off – giving her only a moment to blow the Horn before she grinned.

Silver flames swarmed it then fell in on themselves like a star collapsing. They were left with the plain wall of his room in the Comitium.

‘You okay?’

Hunt touched her cheek in an attempt to read her expression. She didn’t need to wear the mask anymore. There would be no hiding her feelings or supressing her hurts. Nesta could be Nesta in Lunathion. And if she didn’t know who that was yet, it was fine. She could discover who she was.

Nesta slipped her hands around his neck, moving closer. ‘Oh, you are going to get it tonight, Orion Athalar.’

‘Oh?’ An eyebrow cocked up.

‘Defending me. Making them say sorry. What a male.’

Their lips crushed together. Now they had about a thousand things to do before they could relax, like storing the Horn somewhere safe, where nobody would notice the magic, find a place to live rather than keep her smuggled in the barracks, and figure out what the Hel was in that massive bag. With Nesta at his side, anything was possible. They’d weather the storm.

‘Your male,’ Hunt said between hurried kisses.

‘Mine,’ agreed Nesta.

‘Always.’  

[lunar-serpentinite]

AU where the Potters are actually South Asian and their earliest ancestor, Linfred of Stitchcombe, was actually an immigrant from what is now known as Tamil Nadu. He came from a family of potioneers and healers who were known for their relationship with snakes and their ability to understand the language of serpents (known within Europe as Parseltongue) but their variant of Parseltongue was believed to be a blessing from their patron deity Aravan.

The Descendants of Nandhini

The Descendants of Nandhini, more commonly known as the Descendants of Aditya by outsiders, refer to a family of Tamil wix who occupy a heavily warded and hidden territory within part of the Western Ghats in Tamil Nadu, India. They are traditionally healers and agriculturists who work closely with snakes of both Magical and mundane origins. Their affinity and bond with snakes lead them to develop the Magical ability to speak and understand the language of serpents. 

They are named after the first member of the family who mastered the language of serpents, Nandhini. Nandhini was a Tamil witch who lived at the height of the Chola Empire, specifically during the mid-900s. Nandhini was her parents’ third child and only daughter. When Nandhini began to display perfect fluency in the language of serpents, it was viewed as a sign of favour from their patron Aravan and Nandhini was then announced as the family’s next head. However, she was to disguise herself as a man and go by the name Aditya as well as take on a wife for the rest of her life.

From Nandhini, new traditions were developed. One tradition was the secretive way of succession for the title of family head. While the family head remained a male in official records and to anyone who asked. But in reality, a woman held the actual title of family head. The hereditary Magic and Relics of the family was bestowed upon the eldest daughter of the main line, which she would then pass down to her eldest daughter when the daughter came of age. This is one of the family’s best kept secrets and is still kept close and hushed up to this day.

Another tradition was keeping long-living Magical serpents as familiars and protectors of the family and carriers of hereditary knowledge. These serpents were regarded around the same level as the family’s elders and the family often spoke with them for advice or knowledge.

The descendants of Nandhini, like the other Magical families of Tamil Nadu at the time, lived in harmony with their mundane neighbours. Mundanes were aware of and lived with Magic despite being unable to wield it themselves. This carried on until the start of British colonization in India. The Magical families of Tamil Nadu escaped colonization by a breath’s width by using Magic to completely hide themselves from the rest of the world. The descendants of Nandhini in particular worked with their snakes to “camouflage” their biggest family compound within the Western Ghats, with the snakes themselves acting as the living “boundaries” of their territory who also act as natural deterrents for anyone who comes too close.

The Magical families remained isolated from the outside world for the entirety of the British’s colonization of India and even lasted a couple of decades after. However, they have managed to reestablish connection with the other Magical families as the years passed by. During their time of isolation, the caste system was slowly dissolved and forgotten and many Magical Tamil families abandoned their castes and titles in favour of simply calling themselves the descendants of their oldest recorded ancestor. In the present time, Magical Tamil Nadu are large joint family groups scattered geographically but are well-connected by an intricate communication system set up by their ancestors. They are still mostly disconnected from the rest of the Magical World but not as much as it was during the colonial era.

The descendants of Nandhini in the present time mostly use the language of serpents, Tamil, and Sanskrit as their main languages. However, their members also show fluency in Middle Tamil and Classical Sanskrit. The latest generation of the descendants are currently learning present-day English.

BRITISH BRANCH — THE POTTERS

During the 1200s right as the Chola Empire began to decline, a group of the descendants of Nandhini led by someone now known as Linfred of Stitchcombe found their way to the British Isles. Though considered “eccentric” by his British neighbours, Linfred was nonetheless well-liked due to his helpfulness and affable nature. He and his family were known for their excellent healing remedies and strange plants, but they were warned by their ancestral snakes and the local snakes to hide their affinity for snakes and their knowledge of the language of serpents for their own safety. 

This branch eventually adopted the surname of Potter by demand of the British Ministry of Magic, though there wasn’t any significant reason behind the choice of surnames. Though they are Potter on paper, they still proudly refer to themselves as descendants of Nandhini and would often use Nandhini as another surname in addition to Potter. They kept in contact with the main branch throughout the centuries until the main branch seceded during the British colonial period.

Despite their positive reputation in the British Magical community and their position of being essentially Purebloods, the Potters preferred to marry within their South Asian community. The other British Pureblood families attempted to marry into the Potter family for generations especially after the Potters rose to the top of their respective industries, but they remain unsuccessful to this day. It is because of this refusal to marry into the British Pureblood society that the Potters were exempted from the Sacred 28, not that they cared anyways. 

The Potters amassed wealth, prestige, and influence through their revolutionary contributions and breakthroughs for British healing magic and potions. Eventually, they also started to build up a business in Magical pottery and ceramics. The potions they sell are often packaged in custom ceramic bottles made by their own company. Their business partners are exclusively businesses owned and run by South Asians and South Asian immigrants and have recently begun to open their connections to other BIPOC-owned businesses as well. As of the present day, the Potters are one of the leading names in both the potioneering and Magical pottery/ceramics industry.

The Potters usually send their children to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where they would usually be Sorted into either Slytherin or Gryffindor. However since they have reestablished their connection with their main branch in Tamil Nadu, the recent generations have been considering sending their children to their ancestral home for schooling instead.

During the mid-18th century, the Potters began to republicize their affinity and connection with snakes and their usage of the language of serpents as a way of preserving their connection to their family back in their motherland and as a silent protest against the growing negative perception of snakes and serpent-speakers in the United Kingdom. It was noted by Magical linguists that the language of serpents that the Potters knew were far different than what Europe had called “parseltongue”. This variant of “parseltongue” became known as Potters’ parseltongue amongst the European populace, though the family themselves have never used the term themselves.

Despite having lived away from their main branch for centuries, the Potters still maintain almost all of the family traditions. The family is patriarchal on paper but matriarchal in practice. Their family manor in Gloucestershire had an entire green space for the ancestral snakes that they have brought from Tamil Nadu and their other snakes that they have adopted and bred. They continue to revere their patron deity Aravan, whose image decorates sacred spaces within the Potter family estate. 

In the latest generation, the Potter family is closely connected with the other Magical South Asian families within the United Kingdom and the rest of Europe. They also have close ties with the Black family who claims ancestry from ancient Egypt and Persia. The current heads of the Potter family, James and Lily, have both married Regulus Arcturus Black who is the second son of Orion and Walburga Black. James also considers Sirius Orion Black his best friend and the couple have appointed Sirius as the godfather of their eldest child Hariharan "Harry" James Potter.

[phoenix-is-the-hottest-thing]

Star Rail mechanics for beginners

Characters have two attributes:

Their Path

Their element

Characters can equip two sorts of items:

Lightcones

Relics

Characters can upgrade three things:

Their level

Their upgradeable abilities (basic attack, skill, ult, talent)

Their Traces (extra skills + extra damage multipliers ability tree)

This is all you really need to keep track of.

FAQ

Q: Can you dodge?

A: No. Shield up and/or use a healer. Shields are really good.

Q: Can you assassinate enemies?

A: No, but attacking them first does damage them when the fight starts.

Q: Is the turn-based combat fun?

A: I found it fun, it’s not so complex that it’s hard to understand, it’s pretty and it’s relatively dynamic. Try it out~

Further details below.

Path

Acts both as a weapon class and an analog for a dnd class style battle role. Preservation characters have Tank like abilities and so on.

Element

The damage type your character does, as off launch thats one of seven:

Physical

Ice

Fire

Lightning

Wind

Imaginary

Quantum

Each enemy has multiple weaknesses among these. Enemy with a weakness to an element usually resists it less and their Toughness bar gets damaged every time they’re hit by their weakness. (It’s like a second white HP bar.)

Once the Toughness bar is empty, they suffer from an element-specific effect (Frozen if you broke it with ice, Burn with fire, etc), their action is delayed, and they’re stunned for a turn.

Lightcones

A character can equip up to one, and their level can be upgraded. They add extra stats to any character and each have a Path assigned. Only a corresponding Path will activate the extra effect a Lightcone has.

Example:

A Hunt character with a Hunt lightcone will activate the extra effect (ex: Basic attack damage 20%), but this will not happen if the Hunt character equips a Preservation lightcone. However, the Hunt character will benefit from the extra stats in both cases. (ex: HP +300, ATK + 200, DEF + 400) .

Lightcones are primarily gained in gacha but there’s a few other ways to obtain them, like level up rewards or shops. They come in 3*, 4*, and 5*.

Identical lightcones can be fused up to four times (for a total of five levels), which increases their extra effect.

Relics

They’re equippable items that have stats and set bonuses with extra effects. Set bonuses in CBT3 were at 2 and 4 relics of the same set.

They come in 2*, 3*, 4*, and 5*. The maximum level of a relic changes with its rarity. As off CBT3, none of the Relic set were rarity locked, so you’ll be able to upgrade any of them by swapping out for rarer pieces.

A character can equip up to six relics, split into two subtypes of relics: sets with 4 relics and sets with 2 relics. You don’t need to worry about this. Just know they add stats to your character and give extra bonuses when in a set. Easy.

These are NOT gacha-locked, they’re fully farmable. Farming can be automated and you can borrow a friend’s character for it too, so it’s not too tedious and also an opportunity to experiment~

Level

Characters are leveled up with exp materials and other materials you find or fight for. User level locked due to materials becoming accessible over time.

Upgradeable Abilities

There’s four abilities you can upgrade (and one you can’t, Technique).

Upgrading an ability makes its multipliers go up, but doesn’t change how it works.

It takes material and money for each, all of which, to my knowledge, can be obtained just by playing the game normally (I think one of the rarest ones is in the free battle pass though).

These upgradable abilities are:

Basic attack

Skill

Ultimate

Talent

Upgrade them to make them better. That’s really all there is to it.

Regarding how they’re used:

During your turn, you may consume a skill point to use a skill, or use a basic attack and gain a skill point.

Skill points are shared by the whole team.

Attacking and getting hit gives your character energy. When energy is full, Ultimates become available. These can be used at any time, even during the enemy’s turn.

Talents activate without your input whenever their conditions are fulfilled but may have use limits.

Traces

Traces are skill trees with two sorts of bonuses you can unlock:

Stat bonuses (ex: HP +4%)

New abilities

You can upgrade Traces over time with materials and money. Each unlocked node of the Trace only needs to be bought once, so it’s a good idea to keep an eye on whether you can buy a nice one.

(As a word of personal advice, unlock at least one, preferably two ways to remove debuffs from allies before chapter 2, it’ll make your life easier during a certain boss fight… March 7th and Natasha have cheap Traces that let you do so.)

For character information and cost calculation you can use this website, but beware of spoilers as it’s a database.

[aerialsquid]

Dungeon Meshi Characters as FFXIV Players

Laios -FC leader because no one else wants to do it -Started at Paladin, swapped to Samurai once Nemari and Shuro left the FC and Senshi joined. Senshi won't play anything but Warrior and they needed another DPS. -Owns every lore book -Always in the chat during hunt trains -Working on blue mage but it's going slow because nobody wants to help him -Ask him about his Lightwardens designs (do not) -Favorite Character: You think it's gonna be Hermes but it's Midgardsormr. The next ten minutes are him infodumpng about dragon lore.

Senshi: -Warrior main just so he can do stuff solo, but his gathering/crafting is maxed out - God tier omnicrafter but doesn't really care about glamours - His apartment at the FC is designed around sustainable building and farming practices. He has opinions on these. He will tell you the opinions. -Hangs out in the Diadem for fun -Has not been paying any attention to the MSQ -Favorite Character: "I dunno. That girl from the new content has a good appetite?"

Marcille -The only one playing for the plot. Laios lets her design the FC house -Ask her about her Azem (do not) -Strong shipping opinions -White Mage 4 Life -Favorite character: G'raha Tia. Don't ask why she has a lot of suggestive Y'shtola/WoL and genderwap Raha/WoL fanart commissioned.

Falin -Plays Black Mage so they can have a caster in the team -Isn't actually muted in the voice chat but speaks so quietly nobody hears her - Originally played as a Hyur but her account got hacked for a while and she came back as an Au Ra later. -Listens politely to Marcille's shipping opinions -Favorite character: Alisae

Chilchuck -Plays the market board like it's the stock market -Shot-caller during raids but doesn't want to be FC lead so Laios does it -Palace of the Dead/Heaven on High veteran -Ninja main -Mad people call him cute things just because he plays as a Lalafell -Favorite character: Thancred, 'because he's cool, I dunno.' (This is lies, he cried during the dad arc in Shadowbringers.)

Kabru -Always knows the spiciest FC drama -Multiclassing - has Scholar as his healer, Paladin for tank, Bard for DPS. -Favorite character: Will pick what he thinks your favorite is to relate to you better. (The true answer is Ardbert.)

Shuro -Samurai obviously -Had a crush on Falin and somehow nobody but Marcille noticed -Mahjong champion but doesn't tell anyone about it -Favorite character: Lord Hien (yes he's got a cosplay)

Namari -Pugilist main -Also does crafting but only to get the best armor sets - Does not give a fuck about glams -Will grind for relic weapons like no one's business -Favorite character: Estinien

Izutsumi -Shuro's cat who gets on the keyboard during raids

[rax234]

Gameplay Tips -Dungeon Hunter 6

We shall be implementing three primary set-ups to ensure a seamless gameplay experience. Upon accessing our lineup, you will be presented with three distinct options. The first option is a default lineup that is not in any particular order, but it is recommended that you opt for a lineup that is tailored towards the story mode for the story missions. This lineup is ideal for quests that require you to eliminate a horde of monsters and culminate in a boss battle. It is important to note that this lineup does not involve any other players, and it is also applicable to your AFK Tower and my Tower.

The recommended lineup comprises of a Healer SL buffer, a tanky character, and a damage dealer. If you are a ranged class such as an archer or a mage, it is advisable to focus on having two melee units, whether it's two melees who do damage, one tank and one melee damage, or one tank and one melee damage. For warriors, it is recommended to have a healer and two damage dealers, specifically more like range damage dealers or melee damage dealers. It is important to avoid having another tank if you are already a warrior; just go with two main damage dealers. This basic set up is ideal for your story mode, and it is designed to ensure survivability. There are no timers for this, so you don't have to destroy those bosses in the campaign.

During your missions, it is crucial to have the right team composition to ensure your survival. While solo game modes allow for flexibility in team building, having a group of damage dealers is essential for any class. However, having a healer or buffer can also be beneficial in certain situations. When farming experience points, the focus should be on dealing as much damage as possible to lieutenants. Survivability is not a concern, so there is no need for a tank or front line. The same strategy applies to game modes like the evil invasion or relics, where attacking bosses is the main objective. In these modes, having a team of damage-dealing lieutenants is crucial to climb the damage leaderboard and compete against other live players. Alternatively, having one healer and one buffer can also be a viable option. With the right team composition, you can level up quickly and dominate any game mode.

As previously mentioned, our third main build will be solely focused on PVP content. The objective will be to locate lieutenants who possess a similar build to our survivability build. Our team will consist of one healer buffer, one damage dealer, and a tank with controlling effects. To ensure success, it is recommended to concentrate on one main element. Attempting to acquire two of the same elements at a high star level will prove to be exceedingly difficult. This is due to the constant need for copies of others from the same element. For example, to promote the runes guardian lieutenant, we require two more nature types at five stars, along with a random six-star lieutenant. However, if we were to promote another nature type, it would also require five stars. Therefore, it is advisable to have one nature, one fire, and one water lieutenant to expedite the upgrading process. This will exclude the demonic wolf, as it falls under the water element. 

[seedlinggames]

Here's the full blog post, including an off topic rant about people arguing about types of games online too much:

Story game pick lists and OSR spark tables

I am, against my will, mostly writing things these days that are largely categorized as OSR, so this is kind of aimed mainly at an audience of people in a similar situation.

The difference between a random table and a pick list is that the random table has a second column for numbers, in case you want to choose things randomly. For instance, Blades in the Dark has a list of appropriate names for the setting, and Cairn also has a list of appropriate names for the setting with numbers beside them.

On Discord, the subject of whether pick lists can teach us something about OSR tables came up. One person had a pretty cool idea which I won't share because it's their idea, you'll just have to join the NSR discord to find out. This had me think about a cool thing I'd seen in some pick lists. For instance, Wanderhome has character generation picklists that ask questions like, "choose two you still are and two you arent' any more" or "choose two you are and two you refuse to be." I think this is good inspiration for random tables. Let's imagine this in an OSR table.

Pick one that this dungeon room has and one that it clearly used to have:

A pit trap

A slumbering monster

A chest of gold

A water fountain

A holy altar

A passageway leading down

A valuable relic

Strange writing on the wall

Example 1. Let's say it has a chest of gold but clearly is missing a valuable relic. Well, that poses a mystery. Why is the gold undisturbed? Is it trapped or cursed? Or did the one who stole the relic not value gold the way you might? Or perhaps they're wounded and still around here - they had the strength to carry the relic but had to leave the gold.

Example 2. There is a holy altar but it's missing strange writing on the wall. Maybe the writing was defaced? Maybe this was once an altar to some other god whose very name was erased - perhaps some danger related to that old god still lurks? Or maybe the power of the altar can only be unlocked if the writing can be restored.

This is basically the most cliche spark table I can come up with, but adding the "clearly used to have" makes it a little more interesting.

Also I cheated and added some numbers. I'm indecisive.

This is basically the most cliche spark table I can come up with, but adding the "clearly used to have" makes it a little more interesting.

Also I cheated and added some numbers. I'm indecisive.

Pick one the town provides and one the town would pay good money for

A healer

Plentiful food

Military might

Skilled craftspeople

Political legitimacy

Protection from supernatural dangers

I threw this together in about a minute, but I think it might work as a simple faction system. I'll take it out for a quick spin.

Town A: Has political legitimacy, needs protection from supernatural dangers

Town B: Has military might, lacks food

Town C: Has food, is in desperate need of a healer

There's obvious conflict between B and C here, and a real potential for it to break out into open violence. If C needs a healer, maybe there's some kind of plague spreading? C is especially vulnerable but also the plague could spread to B if they proceed with their plans. Meanwhile, A is above the fray - maybe they're the capital, but why aren't they getting involved? Maybe the ruling family has been taken over by some hidden supernatural forces.

Recently, I was playing around with Mythic Bastionland's faction generation system, and while theirs is a lot better thought out and tested and so on, I think with some work my approach here would not be totally out of place in that kind of game.

I'm not sure that something like this hasn't been done within OSR, but I personally heard about this way of structuring spark tables, sorry, pick lists, from story games. In fact, they now seem so obviously similar that I am now second-guessing myself - do people really consider these two approaches to be so fundamentally different? And yet there are probably a lot of cool ideas we're missing out on, by isolating ourselves in these two camps.

[bambithevideogame]

For "Bambi The Video Game," a structure that aligns well with strategy RPGs and map-building games could involve a phased approach:

Game Lore and Factions

Setting: Define "The Forest Kingdom" and its surrounding realms. Outline any historical lore or origin story—perhaps involving "Thee Tree" people or allies.

Playable Factions: Each faction could represent a unique civilization with distinct abilities, like the Tree People, animal allies, and neighboring kingdoms. This adds diversity to gameplay and strategic depth.

Game Phases and Mechanics

Map Exploration: Players start with a central base in The Forest Kingdom and unlock new areas by exploring neighboring lands. Each territory could have unique resources, NPCs, and potential allies or enemies.

Civilization Building: Players can develop their territories with structures like resource gathering, defense towers, research hubs, and cultural sites. This might include alliances, resources like rare plants or minerals, and protection from threats.

Combat Mechanics: Tactics-based RPG combat, where players can deploy squads with unique abilities based on their faction or species. Each unit could bring specific strengths, allowing for complex strategy in battles.

Character Development and Customization

Prince Bambi: The player’s character, with customizable traits and skill trees. Abilities could evolve based on experience or choices made during quests and interactions.

Allies and Leaders: Introduce characters like Claire Jorif Valentine, and other allies, each with unique abilities, personalities, and tactical advantages. Characters could have bonds or loyalty systems that grow over time, impacting gameplay.

Environmental and Moral Choices

Environmental Balance: Choices that affect the ecosystem—cutting trees or preserving them impacts resources, available magic, and the favor of the forest spirits.

Diplomacy and Morality: Allow players to make decisions that affect their alliances and reputation among other factions. For example, they might broker peace or wage wars that change the game’s map and resources.

Endgame Goals

Conquest vs. Peaceful Dominion: Offer diverse victory conditions, like expanding territories, preserving the kingdom’s integrity, or creating diplomatic alliances with all factions.

Relics and Legacy Quests: Include quests that allow players to uncover relics or secrets of Thee Forest Kingdom, giving special advantages or unlocking new areas for post-game play.

Would you like to add more emphasis on any of these areas, or include additional unique gameplay features?

Here's how we can integrate the fleet structure into the game design:

Fleet Composition and Strategy

Fleet Formation: Each fleet allows up to 6 members, enabling players to mix and match different unit types (e.g., scouts, warriors, healers) for specialized roles in combat and exploration.

Fleet Specialization: Players could assign unique roles or "formations" to each fleet, such as Attack Squads, Reconnaissance Teams, Defense Units, or Resource Gatherers, enhancing their effectiveness based on the mission.

Fleet Movement and Deployment

Map Movement Limits: Players can move up to 6 fleets per turn, making positioning a critical aspect of strategy. This setup adds layers of tactical depth, as players must prioritize which areas to cover, defend, or explore.

Fleet Positioning and Resources: Different map regions could offer bonuses or restrictions on fleet movement, requiring strategic placement. For example, forests might boost camouflage, while rivers could restrict movement but offer water-based advantages.

Party Member Roles within Fleets

Role Assignments: Each fleet member could be assigned a distinct role, such as Leader, Scout, Guard, or Healer, affecting the fleet’s overall performance. Leaders could boost morale, Scouts enhance sight range, and Guards provide defensive support.

Dynamic Party Setup: Players can rearrange party members within a fleet, adjusting formations based on the challenges expected in each map area.

Fleet Resources and Upkeep

Resource Management: Moving fleets could consume resources like food or energy, adding a logistics element where players need to manage resources for sustained movement across the map.

Upgrades and Fleet Enhancements: Fleets might gain enhancements through accumulated experience or upgrades, allowing players to gradually improve their power, resilience, and movement capabilities.

Synergies Between Fleets

Fleet Coordination: Allow for synergies between fleets on the map. For example, fleets stationed near each other might gain defensive or offensive boosts, encouraging teamwork and strategic placement.

Combined Assaults and Defense: Multiple fleets in close proximity might be able to join forces in battles, increasing strength in numbers but with the potential risk of losing multiple units if defeated.

This fleet structure adds layers to both exploration and combat strategies, encouraging players to carefully plan and adapt their fleet deployment on the map. Let me know if there’s anything you’d like to add or modify!

The game begins in the dead of winter and Bambi has just bed down in the snow and a harsh winter storm has covered Bambi with snow, Bambi is warm, bed down, deep in sleep when they have a frightening dream of their mother being shot, Bambi has a vision of Pocahontas calling out to them in the dream she tells Bambi to learn how to read rhe colors in the wind (which is an aspect of the game) she tells Bambi to find Tiger Lilly (Of Peter Pan) that she is in danger of freezing and needs help, just after the storm win the winter frost has died down Bambi wakes up and shakes the frost off their coat, Bambi remember the dream and the game begins using Bambi's senses to help locate their first party members in the tutorial to find Tiger Lilly the chiefs daughter

This opening sequence creates a powerful, immersive start for Bambi The Video Game, blending emotional storytelling with gameplay. Here's how we could further develop the tutorial and gameplay mechanics tied to this beginning:

Dream and Vision Sequence

Visual Effects: During Bambi's dream, the environment could shift to dreamlike visuals, with muted colors and mist, focusing on the figures of Bambi's mother and Pocahontas. A soft, haunting melody might enhance the atmosphere.

Voiceover and Guidance: Pocahontas speaks softly, urging Bambi to feel the wind's colors, introducing the “reading the colors” mechanic. This could be a sense-based ability, allowing players to perceive hidden elements in the environment, like trails, heat, or emotional energy.

Tutorial Mechanics: “Reading the Colors in the Wind”

Sensing Ability: This new mechanic could allow Bambi to access heightened senses, displayed as colorful, ethereal winds guiding the player to specific areas. Different colors could signify various elements (warmth, danger, nearby animals, or pathways).

Using the Wind to Track: Players would use the colors to follow scent trails, locate sources of warmth, and spot signs of movement or life, introducing sensory navigation as a core skill.

Locating Tiger Lily as First Party Member

Scent and Sound Cues: In the snow-covered forest, players could follow faint tracks, scents, and sounds leading them to Tiger Lily. Along the way, they may encounter obstacles or signs of danger, requiring players to carefully use their senses to avoid harm.

Mini-Challenges: Small challenges like clearing snow from Tiger Lily's location or finding materials to help warm her could serve as part of the tutorial, gradually introducing inventory use, item discovery, and the concept of rescuing party members.

Story Progression After Rescuing Tiger Lily

Introduction to Party Mechanics: With Tiger Lily as the first member, players would learn to manage a party and benefit from each member's unique abilities. Tiger Lily, as the daughter of a chief, could bring a survival skill, like shelter-building or foraging, which adds depth to exploration.

Unlocking Further Quests: Rescuing her could open a quest line tied to the characters’ survival in winter, needing to locate other allies, and navigating Bambi’s world as they start their journey.

This setup would introduce players to the emotional and sensory-driven elements of the game, making Bambi The Video Game both a story and a journey through survival and discovery. Let me know if you’d like to add more to any element!

[tjemegames]

HSR: TJ’s Character Build Archive - Navigation

Hey y’all!

I’ve decided to post all my character builds for anyone who might find that kind of thing interesting or potentially helpful. While I’ve got a decent amount of HSR build knowledge under my belt, you should take everything you see with a grain of salt; I’m not a guide maker and I won’t pretend to be, but I’ll do my best to include my thought process/rationale for the builds that I’ve chosen to use.

If you have any questions about any of my builds or builds in general, don’t be afraid to drop them in my ask box! I might not personally be able to give you the most comprehensive answer about meta or statistical data, but I’m willing to look into it if you’re in need of genuine assistance.

I'll be updating the linked path posts any time a new character or relic set has been announced. Updates will also be made whenever large upgrades have been made on my character's builds.

Changelogs are now in the pipeline (yipee!) Links for the logs will be added to the path posts as they are released; they are listed alongside the "last upgraded" notice at the end of each character's sub-section. You can also find the logs by using #character build changelog, or by text searching "changelog - [character]" on my blog.

"The path presided over by the Aeon Yaoshi. Selfless, altruistic, and healing actions are manifestations of the Path of Abundance."

The path of Abundance exclusively consists of healers. Kits may include:

ally revival

individual/team-wide debuff dispelling

Some units may also offer supportive utilities such as:

personal action advancing

increased energy regeneration, personal crowd control resistance, or break damage buffs

individual ally aggro manipulation

AOE enemy buff dispelling

"The path presided over by the Aeon Nanook. Reckless, wrathful, and destructive actions are manifestations of the Path of Destruction."

The path of Destruction consists of single and multi-target/blast, break, and counter-attack damage dealers. Kits may include:

enhanced basic attacks

follow-up attacks triggered by personal/ally aggro or hp reduction

damage buffs from personal/ally health draining

personal healing

aggro manipulation

"The path presided over by the Aeon Nous. Thoughtful, logical, and strategic actions are manifestations of the Path of Erudition."

The path of Erudition consists of single and multi-target/blast, break, and follow-up damage dealers. Kits may include:

enhanced basic attacks

damage based follow-up attacks

specialized ultimates (multi-tiered damage)

personal/ally damage buffing

"The path presided over by the Aeon Xipe. Understanding, supportive, and cooperative actions are manifestations of the Path of Harmony."

The path of the Harmony exclusively consists of ally-buffing supports. Kits may include:

turn manipulation

enhanced skill point recovery

individual/team-wide buffs to overall damage, atk, crit rate/damage, break effect, speed, or energy regeneration

"The path presided over by the Aeon Lan. Decisive, ruthless, and vengeful actions are manifestations of the Path of The Hunt."

The path of the Hunt consists of single-target, break, and follow-up attack damage dealers. Kits may include:

enhanced basic attacks

team-triggered follow-up attacks

specialized ultimates (non-traditional energy charging and multi-tiered damage)

personal action advancing or speed buffing

Individual ally-buffing of speed, damage, or toughness reduction are also possible through March 7th - The Hunt.

"The path presided over by the Aeon IX. Slothful, exhausted, and meaningless actions are manifestations of the Path of Nihility."

The path of Nihility consists of single and multi-target/blast damage dealers and enemy debuffing supports. Kits may include:

specialized ultimates (non-traditional energy charging)

TJ will come back to this section later because nihility is complicated, and I'll need to reread everyone's kits in depth to be accurate here.

"The path presided over by the Aeon Qlipoth. Patient, sacrificial, and protective actions are manifestations of the Path of Preservation."

The path of Preservation exclusively consists of shielders/tanks. Kits may include:

personal character revival or taunting buffs

enhanced basic attacks

aggro-based follow-up attacks

Some units may also offer supportive utilities such as:

buffs to crit rate/damage, effect resistance, or crowd control resistance

personal/team-wide healing or received damage reduction

ally damage mitigation

Yeah, that was more detailed than I was originally planning to be. The yapping demons took over again, apparently. Navigation with a little side of education for your learning pleasure. Content disclaimers and credits under the cut. Thanks for stopping by!

Important things to note:

All my build showcases have been generated through Fribbels Honkai Star Rail Optimizer.

Fribbels automatically displays your characters at level 80 character and light cone experience so that you can preemptively evaluate their build at its maximum potential.

Fribbels relic scoring weight can be manipulated to meet your personal wants (this is especially useful for making non-damage dealers into true damage dealing characters) and those relics are notated with an Asterix (*). Most of my build showcases have been generated with the default weighting intact; any deviations will be notated accordingly.

Following the above point, some of my characters may have multiple different builds: e.g., crit vs traditional Sampo, break vs traditional Guinaifen, 4pc purity palace + keel vs 4pc pioneer + salsotto Aventurine, etc. Each build will be properly titled, and their functionality/niche will be emphasized for clarity’s sake.

If you're interested in generating your own build showcases but you’d prefer to see characters with their current in-game statistics, Enka.Network is an excellent platform to do so. Enka does not currently have a relic scoring feature so you will not be able to see the value of your pieces through their generated showcases. They do, however, have roll quality stat breakdowns that can be toggled on/off.

The quotes listed underneath the Path and Character headers are tidbits sourced from the game's plethora of loading screens. I pulled the text from Fandom's Honkai: Star Rail Wiki page on loading screens and characters respectively.

All the path overviews and kit summaries were written in my own words; however, I did use Prydwen's HSR Character's List to look over the kits of characters that I don't own, so here's their honorable mention.

[medra-gonbites]

A Night to Remember

One Shot Chapter about Shadowheart and Astarion wreaking havoc in Baldur's Gate as they go for a night out. Meaningful heart to heart and drunken shenaningans ensue.

SFW - Platonic Friendship - Some Wyllstarion - Mention of depression (light) - Alcohol

Words: 4979

“And how do you feel?” He asked, noticing her thoughts wandering at that moment too. She opened her mouth to answer his question but swallowed a sob instead. The last hours had been like this; spontaneous surge of overwhelming sadness, coming in strong with no warnings and leaving as suddenly as they came if repressed on time. Astarion noticed but feigned to have not. For her sake. “I’m bored out of my mind!” He blurted out, lazily stretching his arms above his head. “And the wine is gone.” The cleric breathed in a disappointed voice. Astarion opened wide eyes at this statement. “The wine is gone?!” Shadowheart nodded, a resigned expression on her face. Astarion sprung to his feet. “Oh, that simply won't do, darling!” He offered her his hand and she hesitantly took it. There was a grin on his pale lips that screamed mischief. “How about we go out tonight? Let’s do something fun, instead of feeling sorry for ourselves.” Shadowheart considered the invitation. If there were no combats to be fought, no quests to be pursued, no relics to be retrieved, they might as well indulge in a little adventure of their own.

Read the rest on A03 or below the cut!

I hope you enjoy that one as much as I enjoyed writing it! It was a lot of fun to be honest.

Also if someone can advise me on concise writing (I always start telling myself "this one will be a short one" and it never is!)

The sun was setting slowly behind the placid waters of the Chionthar. The whole camp was silent, safe for the punctual snores of Scratch and Baby who were napping in the shade of a dilapidated wall.

Shadowheart had spent most of the day in a torpor. Between cries and attempted mediation, it had been difficult to shake the anxiety and grief off her heart. After the debacle at the House of Grief she had finally gotten closure. But at what cost? Yes, she was free of Shar’s once and for all, but the cruelty of her former Goddess had again left her loveless and in pain as she had faced her parents’ death, minutes only after finally being reunited. It was what her parents wanted. A liberation more than a death sentence in their eyes. Despite it all, she could not help but feel like she had made the wrong choice.

She looked at her hands, the circular wounds punctured through her flesh finally closed and no longer throbbing in excruciating agony. A darken scar, the only remains of Shar’s former hold on her. She turned in her bedroll contemplating the night orchid exposed in a vase outside by the opening of her tent.

Denisious had been there of course, to comfort her and convince her that her choice was the righteous one. As a bard, he always found the right word to coax her into peace of mind. She loved him dearly for that. His bravery and kindness which drove him to help the innocent around him. His willingness to be good to everyone. His patience, that she had stretched thin with her blinded faith, but that had ultimately allowed her to change path and redeem herself. And yet, as she was mourning the loss of something she had for so long forgotten she had, even him could not help making her feel better.

She was grateful that he and her companions had given her space and left her at camp, to process what had happened. She did not feel fit to undertake the adventures that were coming their way. Halsin would have to be the healer for a time as she remained behind in the slums they called camp, by the docks of Baldur’s Gate.

A ray of light angled into her tent, and shined into her eyes and Shadowheart squinted. The heat was starting to increase under the thick walls of canvas. Sweat was beading on her forehead. With an exhausted sigh, she got up and exited the stifling warmth of her pavilion in search of fresh air. Walking aimlessly around camp, she caught eyes on Astarion, sitting on the ground by the pier, his feet dangling above the water. His eyes closed, he was basking in the sunlight, a soft smile on his lips.

Much like herself, the vampire had experienced a couple of difficult trials recently. His confrontation with Cazador had left him drained and numb. He was treated with the same courtesy as she was, and allowed some respite in camp for a few days. They were both lucky their de facto leader was a sensitive man.

She approached him quietly, not wanting to disturb him, but the rogue heard her footsteps. Opening alarmed eyes to see who was coming, his frightened look softened at the sight of his cleric companion. He eyed her up and down, before turning back to the sun.

“Darling! You look like shit!”

She came to sit next to him. Coming from anyone else this would be offensive. But from him it was just playful. And probably true. She observed the elf. He had dark circles under his eyes and sunken cheeks. His lips were dry and his usually very well kept hair were negligently tousled and frizzy. It seemed as though he had not tranced or drunk for a few days.

“Likewise, darling.” She answered with a chuckle.

“Two rejects set aside to lounge in camp.” He commented bitterly.

“You know they have not sidelined us.” She grumbled, convincing herself as much as she was trying to convince him, “After what we have been through, it seems only fair to make time to feel, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know. Seems worse somehow; like I have too much time and too much space for my thoughts to wander.”

She knew what he meant; Her thoughts wandered as well and they had a tendency to go downwards into a spiral of self doubt and questioning. All the what-ifs and fake scenarios that were useless to picture and dissect since they had not come to pass and never would.

“And how do you feel?” He asked, noticing her thoughts wandering at that moment too.

She opened her mouth to answer his question but swallowed a sob instead. The last hours had been like this; spontaneous surge of overwhelming sadness, coming in strong with no warnings and leaving as suddenly as they came if repressed on time. Astarion noticed but feigned to have not. For her sake.

“I’m bored out of my mind!” He blurted out, lazily stretching his arms above his head.

“And the wine is gone.” The cleric breathed in a disappointed voice.

Astarion opened wide eyes at this statement.

“The wine is gone?!”

Shadowheart nodded, a resigned expression on her face. Astarion sprung to his feet.

“Oh, that simply won't do, darling!”

He offered her his hand and she hesitantly took it. There was a grin on his pale lips that screamed mischief.

“How about we go out tonight? Let’s do something fun, instead of feeling sorry for ourselves.”

Shadowheart considered the invitation. If there were no combats to be fought, no quests to be pursued, no relics to be retrieved, they might as well indulge in a little adventure of their own. She grabbed a piece of parchment and some ink from Gale’s nearby tent and crafted a little note to let the rest of the troop know not to worry, should they return to camp before them. Astarion laughed.

“Leaving a note? Aw, that is precious!”

“Well, we wouldn’t want them to think you kidnapped me would we?” Shadowheart bantered.

“Or that you kidnapped me.” He snapped back, “You might leave a note like a well-mannered girl but I know deep down you are as much of a menace as I am!”

“Touché!”

Shadowheart winked. She folded the letter neatly and deposited it in the center of camp, weighted with a brick. The pair left promptly for the city as the sun was almost down behind the horizon.

----------------------------------------------------------

The Elfsong Tavern was animated that night. The music of a live band of bards was almost drowned out by the buzzing of the crowd. Scanning the room with eager eyes and failing to find a free spot, Shadowheart was almost resigned to go somewhere else, but her companion was not going to give up so easily. Lakrissa, the young waitress and friend of them, came to salute them, a tray full with empty tankards balancing on her palm.

“Hello dear, would you have space for two very special customers?” Asterion purred into her ear.

The tiefling blushed but shook her head apologetically.

“I’m sorry Astarion, tonight is packed! All because we are hosting this new up and coming band, "The Tumbling Rocks", have you heard of them?”

“No.” He replied, irritated, “And given the ruckus that all these dunkards make we never will!”

The Tiefling giggled. She looked tired, her shift must have been long and tedious with the music, the noise and the rowdy customers.

“Are there some patrons that could be benevolent enough to free their table?” Astarion inquired, an eyebrow raised to underline his insinuation.

“Now that you mention it…” She discreetly tilted her head to a table in the far corner of the room.

Two halflings were playing cards. One of them was swaying back and forth on his seat, catching the table every time he balanced backwards to prevent himself from falling. His face was red, bloated and glistening with sweat. The other sported a massive brown stain on his chest, proof of his recently spilled drink. He kept regurgitating burps and hiccups, his cheeks inflating with the threat of another type of spillage.

“These two are rude, drunk and frankly on the verge of vomiting their ale on the table. I wouldn't mind if they decided to go home…”

With an understanding nod, Astarion approached the table. He greeted the two men enthusiastically, swaying his arm wide open, as if they were long time friends.

“Good evening gentlemen! I trust you are having a pleasant time?”

“F…. Fuuck Offf… F…. F…! We’re not… inte… *hic* rested in your shits, you t… *hic* twat.” The red man barked.

Lakirssa wasn’t lying: they were rude and drunk.

“Is that a way to talk to a fiend?”

“What? Don't you mean frie…” The halfling stuttered before trailing off at the sight of Astarion flashing his fangs at him. His red face grew instantly paler.

Shadowheart leaned close to the other man, still hurling dangerously, like an ominous presage to his inevitable spewing.

“And who's your… fff…*hic* Who’s your ff…. Friend? She’s lovely. She’s an angle?” He struggled to word his sentence.

“Why, thank you. You’re quite the stud yourself…” Answered the young woman, batting her eyelids way too much.

The halfling smiled bright, but his joy was cut short as another belch came from the back of his throat.

“Would you like… A drink? With me?” He resumed with a staggering voice, “And then we sm… *hic* And then we smooch!”

“Oh that sounds like fun.” Shadowheart cooed in fake flirtation, “But you know what I would like more?”

The halfling shook his head, Shadowheart reached out to touch his waist with a flutter of her fingers.

“Night orchids. I’ve heard there are plenty in Bloomridge Park. Would you be a dear and get me one? Then we smooch.” She promised.

With more intent and determination that his drunken state allowed him, the man slid off his stool and rose to his feet.

“It shall… *hic* Shall be… *hic* I shall be do, M’lady!”

He attempted to bow but tumbled forward, hitting his forehead on the table. He stood back up, rubbing the fresh bump on his brow and shuffled towards the exit of the tavern. His friend watched him go, perplexed.

“Linus?” He called, offended to have been eclipsed by the beautiful “angle”.

He turned his gaze back to Astarion, a wary expression at the sight of the pearly fangs that were now only a few inches from his face. He gulped with difficulty.

“Night… Orcs, was it? He downed the remaining of his ale, stood up and ran after his companion. “I better go… and help him…”

With a satisfied smile Astarion sat down on his newly earned stool. He pushed the empty tankard and discarded cards to the side with the back of his hand.

“These boorish little fuckers didn’t even pay for their drinks.”

“Oh yes they did!” Shadowheart cackled, showing the coin purse she had pickpocketed from her target moment before. “And they are about to pay for ours too.”

“Shadowheart, you little vixen!” Laughed Astarion, “I see, your fingers are as slippery as mine! Are there even night orchids in Bloomridge park?”

“No idea! But I doubt he’ll reach the park before he passes out.”

The pair ordered a bottle of Westgate Ruby wine. After their first few glasses, Shadowheart could feel her body relax and her cheeks flush. The music was getting louder and the overlapping of the conversation around her formed a hubbub that made her ears ring. She did not mind at all. It was better than the silence at camp. The silence which allowed her to think and get lost in her mind. Astarion was talking, waving his hand in the air as he was ranting.

“And that is why he should not eat garlic when he plans on allowing me to drink from him!”

“I will be sure to let him know…” Shadowheart replied absentmindedly.

Astarion and Denisious had made an arrangement at the beginning of their journey. Denisious would provide him with blood so that Astarion could hunt more efficiently. Some nights he wouldn’t even need to if the spawn had already fed on a foe earlier that day. It was this sort of selfless act that he was capable of. Sometimes she wondered if his compulsory need to help and fix people wasn’t the reason he was with her to begin with.

“What do you think of him? Truly?” She asked.

Astarion stopped mid drink, his eyes narrowing at her. He put his cup down and considered her question before answering.

“Is this a trap? I drunkenly gossip and you snitch it all back like a telltale?”

“Just curious.” She reassured him, “I love him… though I often wonder if the feeling is requited. Sometimes it’s hard to believe, with how little of me is actually left.”

Shadowheart looked down inside her glass. The red surface, still, shimmering with the light of the candelabra overhead. She could see a blurry silhouette staring back in the mirror of the liquid. Jenevelle. Shadowheart. There were two sides to herself and neither were a complete person. Her mind like a puzzle. Fragmented. Broken into pieces of lives that were so distant they felt like someone else's. Pale fingers came to dive into her cup, the shadow of her reflection breaking into ripples.

“Ew!” She protested, swatting Astarion’s hand away from her drink.

“I’d rather you give me your full attention if I am to answer. And indeed, to answer: He’s a gnome, dear! That’s quite a flaw, for starters…” With a naughty glint in his eyes, he lowered his voice and bent over the table drawing close to her face, “I meant to ask you by the way: how is that like in the bedroom?”

“Let’s just say his head is not the only thing that is disproportionately large.” Shadowheart casually replied, a suggestive smile on her lips.

Astarion sighed longingly.

“Oh my! To think I almost bore witness to that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know me by now. I did try to seduce him at first. For commodity.” The elf started, “Imagine that: I was ready to sleep with a gnome… “

He shook his head and tutted disapprovingly as if appalled by himself.

“Although I must admit he is quite charming, not to mention surprisingly resourceful in battle. Also his blood is delicious... And taking into account the piece of information you just shared… I am kind of starting to see the appeal.”

Shadowheart frowned, a hint of jealousy sparking inside her. It was not an emotion she was familiar with but she was getting annoyed and failing to see where this argumentation was going.

“I am thrilled to know that…” She snarled.

“My point is, darling: he declined.” Astarion affirmed with a dismissive wave of his hand, “Because he was always enthralled by these pretty green eyes of yours. From day one.” He took a sip of his wine to let his statement sink in, before concluding, “I understand that you doubt yourself… But don’t doubt him. That would be unfair.”

Shadowheart softened. It was reassuring to know of Denisious attraction to her, even at the dawn of their adventures. She thought of her own feelings. Love was not a precept encouraged by Shar. She had indulged in physical intercourses in the past, but love had never been at the root of it. Here it felt different, but was it truly love? Did she ever love before? She pondered the question before sharing it with her, by now, tipsy companion.

“Do you sometimes have the feeling you’ve forgotten how to love?”

“Sometimes, yes…” He hesitated for a spell, “After all these years of hate and torment it’s difficult to remember what it is like to love… And be loved.”

A mist of sadness came to cloud the vampire’s ruby eyes. Looking lost in his dissociation Shadowheart mentioned a name she knew would bring him back.

“I thought Wyll would have reminded you.”

Once again Astarion squinted suspiciously. Shadowheart smirked in her glass as she took a sip of her wine, catching how his incredulity barely hid an endearing elation at the name of the warlock.

“What in the Hells are you going on about?”

“Oh come on.” She teased, “Everyone has noticed the longing glances you have been throwing at each other. Remember after the battle with Ansur, during our little party when he asked you to dance?”

“Yes, darling. The man loves to dance. We all know that. I indulge him because he is, in fact, a good dancer” Astarion retorted, shifting on his seat uncomfortably.

“He’s infatuated with you. And you with him, aren’t you?”

“Please. A vampire and a monster hunter? How cliché…”

Shadowheart rolled her eyes.

“Remember to tell him before the end. You two deserve to be happy too.”

Astarion sighed, a small smile stretching the corner of his mouth betraying his affection. Sheepishly looking back to his friend, his stare warmed up upon meeting her look of complicity. He raised his glass.

“To the fools we love and who dare to love us.”

Their glasses clung together adding to the commotion of the tavern.

----------------------------------------------------------

It was well into the hours of the night and the two friends were walking less than gracefully, holding onto each other for balance. After scouring several taverns in the city, - the Elfsong, the Blushing Mermaids, the Splurging Sturgeon and a few more- it was agreed that they would slowly return to camp. It was when they walked by Bloomridge Park that Shadowheart stopped.

“Wait! Before we go back I want to check if they have night orcs!” She whined, pulling Astarion’s sleeve towards the entrance gate.

“You mean night orchids?” He laughed.

“That’s what I said!” She muffed in wounded pride.

Astarion was less inebriated than her but drunk nonetheless, and his hunger did not help his condition. First trying to resist the cleric’s pull he finally gave in and followed her through the park. As she was scurrying around in search of her precious flowers. He noticed something rummaging in a bush. A small familiar figure emerged from the branches.

“Well, hello Linus!”

Upon seeing the vampire, the halfling bowed, only to fall down, his chin hitting the ground with a dry thud.

“I am still in search of the Ffff… Flowers for my belo… belo… blov.” He said, retching rhythmically into the ground, “I took a break to puke in this bucket.”

He pointed at the bush from which he had come. His arm fell limp on the ground. Astarion briefly looked around in search of the other halfling but did not seem to see him anywhere.

“And where is your friend?” He asked.

“Home…” Linus mumbled.

“Astarion!” Shadowheart called, “Stop playing with Linus and come here!”

The halfling snore started to echo in the night. He considered drinking from him but had promised Denisious a long time ago he would only bite their enemies -and friends who were willingly offering. Having morals sure proved very inconvenient sometimes. Most times in fact. He stared at the man’s neck, a pulse beating enticingly just below his jaw.

“What would Wyll say?” is the thought which tipped over the balance. He breathed a resigned sight and gently pushed Linus into the bush with the tip of his shoe.

“Begone temptress.” He whispered with a chuckle.

He joined Shadowheart who had somehow left the park altogether via a small opening in the fence near a small retaining wall behind the facemaker’s clothing shop. She was standing by the bridge to the upper city, leaning on a wall and giggling.

“See that?”

She was pointing at a faded graffiti of a poorly drawn skull with crossed bones underneath it.

“Yes darling, I do… What of it?”

“I think I drew that.” She smiled wide, “Looong ago!”

Astarion grinned. He wasn’t sure what was cuter; the pathetic drawing, a wanna be edgy design that was just awful if one were to be honest, or the pride that now gleamed on Shadowheart's face. He patted her head, in a patronizing but delicate way.

“Well it’s certainly something…” He ventured.

As she kept her eyes on the skull her smile faded and her eyes grew dim.

“It’s one of my only memories of the city, even though I supposedly grew up here… Not even sure I actually did draw this. I wonder what else I have lost…”

Before his friend’s sadness Astarion was uneasy. He was not the comforting type. At least not the kind who could hug their drunk friend and tell them everything was going to be ok. Eying the surroundings, both in an attempt to divert from Shadowheart’s teary eyes and to find a distraction to subject her to, his gaze fell on a disregarded pot of paint by a nearby quest board. A brush was sticking out of the container, mucked up in the first layer of pigment which was already starting to clot. It was good enough for now.

He retrieved the pail, seized the brush and brought it up on the wall next to Shadowheart's presumed art piece. He traced two stick figures with pointed ears. One of them had two triangles sticking out of its mouth and the other a long braid that reached down its feet.

“There!” Astarion said, plunging the brush back into the gooey paint, “Now you know for sure that you were involved in defacing a property.”

Shadowheart’s face beamed with joy at the sight of the added graffiti.

“It’s us!” She exclaimed.

Astarion hushed her, “Yes it is darling, but keep your voice down, we are committing vandalism.”

“It will be fine! It’s Jaheira’s house.” She argued back.

Astarion opened his eyes wide. He did not know it was Jaheira’s house and he felt both amused and alarmed by that piece of news. He did not dislike the druid. She was sassy and blunt and always supportive in a non-pitiful way. And now he had unknowingly damaged her family house. So much for trying to be better.

“I know that look.” Shadowheart noted, interrupting his trail of thoughts, “You’re feeling guilty.”

“A mite…” He begrudgingly admitted.

“And what about a butterfly?”

Shadowheart bursted into laughter at her own, poor, joke. Astarion shook his head in response. Now was probably time to go home. He gently pushed her back to guide her towards the road to camp. Resisting at first, she grabbed the pot of old paint.

“I’m taking this!” She declared, “I want to redecorate camp!”

Astarion allowed it. He did not want to fuss over this. He knew her artistic endeavors would be gone in the morning. That or the paint would probably be dry and caked up at the bottom of the bucket by then.

Passing through the park, they could hear Linus sawing logs, still tugged in the bush, probably tossing and turning in his own fluid. With a flick of her arm, Shadowheart threw his coin purse into the shrubbery where she hoped he would find it. The purse, despite being way lighter than at the beginning of the evening, was not totally empty.

“Thank you Linus!” She shouted before they exited the park.

As they paced by the lower city wall, a strange sensation lingered in Astarion’s chest. He slowed down and looked up the rampart. Up above he could make out the east tower of the Szarr Palace, in which they had climbed a few days ago to confront his former master. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought.

Cazador Szarr was gone. He had killed him, himself. Stabbed and slashed until his arm was sore and his vision blurry and red with his blood. And then he had cried. And yet since then he had woken up, in sweats, terrified and persuaded he was still in his crummy dormitory. He had foolishly thought his tormentor’s death would mean freedom and healing. It was naive of him to have thought it could be so easy.

Before his tense look, Shadowheart had stopped. He had not realized but so did he, a while ago, lost in his contemplations, fixated on the high wall that towered above him. She followed where his gaze went, with a pained realization.

“I don’t know if my memory loss is a curse of a blessing.” She confessed, breaking the silence. “On one hand, I don’t have to hold myself accountable for anything, and have lost parts of my life I cannot regain… On the other hand,I suppose I escaped a lot of suffering which would have driven me mad, had I not forgotten.”

Astarion turned to her, hazy eyed. He did not respond. He did not know what to say.

“But,” She resumed, touching the cold stone of the wall, “The only thing that is fully ours now, is not our past and what has been, but our present and what we make it to be.”

The young woman stretched her arm upwards and began to paint something on the wall.

“And at present, I am drawing a dick on this wall so that the only memory you’ll have when you look up at it, is me, tracing it with old stolen paint and puking on the ground.”

“You haven’t puked on the gr…” Before he could finish his sentence, Shadowheart hurled a powerful gush of red wine that splattered between her feet and into the paint bucket.

“Hey! You!” A voice arose from a few feet away, the clinking of armour coming closer.

“Darling, if you’re done, we got to run!”

They both were running fast, this time resolutely heading for their camp without being side tracked, Astarion laughed hysterically, and for the first time in days he felt alive and happy.

----------------------------------------------------------

The sun was starting to rise when Shadowheart and Astarion finally reached their camp. Out of breath and sweating, they had managed to lose the Flaming Fists that were pursuing them. They arrived without discretion, barging in like a pack of wild dogs, welcomed by the disgruntled groans of some of their comrades, woken up by their sudden entrance.

As they tried to contain their laughter, they trailed off to sit on the pier, back at the spot where their little adventure had started. The indigo sky was growing brighter and brighter and the stars were slowly losing their sparks as the night sky receded.

“I’m sorry we can’t see the sunrise from here.” Shadowheart regretted.

“Why would you be sorry about this?” Astarion asked.

“I guessed it was something you’d like to see as many times as possible.”

That much was true. If all went well, if their plan worked, if they could defeat the brain then the tadpole in their head would disappear. That would mean no more sunlight for the rest of his days. He had mourned this possibility after he had decided not to go through with the rite of Profane Ascension. Yet every day when the sun rose he felt a flutter of sadness in the depth of his core. Every night when the sun set, the same flutter would once more shake his inside. His body a sunflower, drawn to and forever seeking the sun; soon he wouldn’t be able to bask in its light and had to hope he would not wither. It was a fate that no one could not help. He breathed in deeply before answering.

“I am not looking forward to going back to the night and shadows. But if I must, I will…”

“It is the light of the sun that shines on the moon and makes it glow at night.” Said Shaodwheart softly, laying her head on the vampire’s shoulder.

Her eyelids were heavy and shutting uncontrollably. She yawned.

“I’ll pray that Selûne protects you, always.”

She reached for his hand and squeezed it tight. Before Astarion could answer, Shadowheart was deep asleep. He rested his head on hers. It was not the worst way to look at it. He wasn’t one to believe or rely on the Gods. He did not know if Selûne would care for him or not. But knowing Shadowheart did brought him more comfort than he would ever admit. Out loud.

Astarion heard the soft thump of footsteps coming closer. Incapable of moving without disturbing the sleep of his snoring friend he focused on the sound of the oncoming visitor. Short stride. Only one person in camp with legs that short.

“Hello Denisious!” He greeted before the gnome was in his line of sight.

The man planted himself in front of him, a gentle smile stretching his lips as he gazed fondly upon the face of his dormant betrothed.

“Did you guys have fun?” He whispered not to wake her up.

“A ton.” Laughed the vampire.

Shadowheart stirred, her eyes opened briefly.

“Hello lover,” She breathed in a sleepy voice, “Take me to my bedroll will you?”

Denisious took her hand and gently guided her back to her tent, which he had been sharing with her for a few weeks now. He laid a firm and friendly hand on Astarion’s shoulder as he passed the spawn.

Astarion watched the lovers slowly regain their bedding and his eyes wandered to Wyll’s spot, close to the cleric’s. The young man was peeking out of the entrance of his tent. Meeting his eyes, he waved timidly in his direction, a salute that Astarion replicated. Should he go talk to him as Shadowheart had suggested? Was now a good time? Would there ever be one?

Astarion stood up and walked decisively towards the warlock’s tent.

“There is no time like the present” He thought, “And the present is what we make it to be.”

[wynterrolls]

˳༄꠶ BLACK SWAN | Honkai: Star Rail TL;DR Build

Role: DoT DPS

Relic Set (More options below the cut)

4pc Prisoner in Deep Confinement

Planar Ornament Set

Pan-Cosmic Commercial Enterprise

Firmament Frontline: Glamoth (More efficient to farm)

Space Sealing Station

Main Stats

Head = HP

Glove = ATK

Body = Effect Hit Rate (EHR) or ATK%

Boots = Speed or ATK%

Orb = Wind DMG% or ATK%

Rope = ATK%

Sub Stats

EHR

ATK% or ATK

SPD

Endgame Stats to aim:

Needed EHR = 120% EHR

Minimum Total ATK = 3000

Speed Options: no SPD (if slow BS); 134+ to 145+ SPD (if using Ruan Mei or SPD buffers); 155+ (if fast BS)

Black Swan Rotation

Assuming your BS doesn’t get hit by enemies:

Using ATK% rope: 4x Skill > Ultimate (4 turn ultimate)

Using ATK% rope: 3x Skill + 2x Basic > Ultimate (5 turn ultimate)

Using Tutorial LC: 3x Skill > Ultimate (3 turn ultimate)

Light Cones

To know the damage difference between each light cone, check the tables below the cut.

Reforged Remembrance 5★

Good Night Sleep Well 4★

Incessant Rain 5★

It's Showtime 4★

Eyes of the Prey 4★

Fermata 4★ [S5]

Before the Tutorial Mission Starts 4★ [S5]

— Black Swan Kit TL;DR —

All Basic Attack, Skill, and Ultimate deal Wind DMG on enemies.

Arcana = deals Wind DMG and Wind DoT damage at start of enemy turn

Arcana stack = increase DoT dmg%; max of 50 stacks; resets at enemy turn

Basic Attack: Chance to apply an Arcana Stack for each DoT on enemy.

Skill: Chance to apply DEF shred and Arcana stack.

Ultimate: Applies Epiphany on all enemies for 2 turns.

Epiphany = more DoT dmg% and Arcana effects are considered as Wind Shear, Bleed, Burn, and Shock; Arcana stacks don’t reset as long as Epiphany is on enemy.

Talent: when enemies enter battle, applies DoT; each DoT enemy gets, chance to get Arcana stack

If 3+ Arcana stacks = chance to apply Arcana stacks on adjacent targets

If 7+ Arcana stacks = DEF ignore on target and adjacent targets

Technique: chance to apply Arcana stacks on target at start of battle

— How to Play Black Swan in Simplified Form —

Black Swan can’t detonate any DoTs. Her DoT damage depends on enemy speed = backloaded damage. Her kit revolves entirely around increasing the damage enemies take from DoTs at beginning of their turns, by increasing the Arcana stacks on them.

She needs another DoT unit to apply DoTs on enemy and to trigger DoTs outside of enemies’ turns (e.g. Kafka, E4 Sampo, E6 Luka, or Guinaifen’s ultimate). This is possible when Epiphany is on enemies, since her Arcana stacks can also be triggered by other DoT units.

Black Swan Gameplay in Razor Language:

Other DoT units take turns before BS, they apply DoT on enemy

BS takes turn to use skill or basic attack

Enemy gets Arcana stacks from DoTs and DEF shred (if used skill)

Enemy turn starts, DoT DMG and Arcana gets triggered; Arcana stacks reset.

Profit. ( •_•)👍

Black Swan using Ultimate: Use Black Swan’s ultimate first before her DoT allies detonate their own DoT DMG (e.g. using their Ultimate).

— Pulling Priority: E1 > S1 > E2 —

* Calcs from iSUMMON = Increase from E0S0 (Solo DMG calc):

E0S1 = 15.64%

E1S0 = 31.25%

E1S1 = 51.78%

* Calcs from Hunterkee = Increase from E0S0 (Team DMG calc):

E0S1 = 7.71%

E1S0 = 23.27%

E2S0 = 2.28%

— Trace Priority: Talent > ATK/EHR/Wind DMG > Others —

* Calcs from Gladius’s Build Guide:

Ascensions first to unlock the trace nodes below

Talent = 7.65%

ATK / EHR / Wind = 3.05%

Skill = 1.88%

Ultimate = 1.86%

Basics = 1.57%

— Theoretical Simulation Calcs —

Relic Set Comparison Difference

From Hunterkee: None.

From Bonk:

From GuobaCertified:

Planar Ornament Set Comparison Difference

From Hunterkee:

From Bonk:

From GuobaCertified:

Light Cone Comparison Difference

From Hunterkee:

From Bonk:

From GuobaCertified:

Theoretical Consensus:

Their calcs are mostly focused in stacking speed on their units.

In Hunterkee’s calcs, the speed ranges from 147 to 163 spd, where the healer is the fastest, while depending on the team comp, Guinaifen is the slowest.

The speed ranges from 153 to 162 spd in Bonk’s calcs, where Kafka and the healer are the slowest, while Ruan Mei is the fastest.

In GuobaCertified’s simulations, the speed ranges from 163 to 168 spd, where Ruan Mei is the fastest, while Kafka is the slowest.

Amongst the three calcs, Hunterkee’s is closer to home because that’s mostly the speed range that F2Ps and low-spender players can achieve for their character builds. GuobaCertified’s, however, looks something you’d only see in whale builds or minmax builds. In all 3 simulations, Black Swan’s speed is somewhere in the middle.

— Does she need Kafka? —

BS could work without Kafka, but BS needs another unit that would trigger her DoTs outside the enemies’ turns. BS loses a lot of damage if her damage only relies on enemies’ turns, with no one to detonate her DoTs outside their turns.

— How much boost does Black Swan bring to Kafka DoT teams? —

From Hunterkee’s calcs, Black Swan brings about 19% boost against single-target enemy and 33% boost on AoE.

— ATK% or SPD on boots? —

Slow BS = ATK% boots

Fast BS = SPD boots

BS in Pure Fiction = SPD boots

Reasoning:

MoC has a limit of 10 cycles for you to defeat the enemies. Whether you use ATK% or SPD boots on her, Black Swan needs time to gain stacks to deal more DoT damage on enemies’ turn start.

However, Pure Fiction needs you to clear the enemies at faster rate. This means you need to clear out the first 5, before the next 5 could spawn in. This is where SPD boots would be more advantageous for her to act more turns before the enemies.

Also, SPD boots if you need to reach the SPD threshold for Glamoth set.

NOTE: There’s this discussion about building Fast BS, Slow BS, and “Classical SPD” BS. “Classical SPD” BS means her having 134 SPD. The post is written by u/L0wpriority here and a counterargument was posted by u/guobacertified here. To know what goes on in their talks, better check those links instead.

However, for me, I’d say to build your BS’s SPD according to what her allies’ SPD are. I’ve linked below some showcase for BS teams and the team order of each. I also explained how those teams are formed and worked together in the Practical Consensus below.

— ATK% or Wind DMG% on orb? —

Wind DMG% orb if no Ruan Mei; ATK% orb if Ruan Mei is in team. Difference is minimal.

Damage difference:

From Hunterkee’s calcs: 0.06%

From Guoba’s: 1.48%-2.75%

— Black Swan Team Showcase in Practice —

NOTE: Team Order = Highest SPD (Fastest) to Lowest SPD (Slowest)

Black Swan + Kafka + Ruan Mei

Fast Black Swan + Slow Kafka DoT team – sample showcase done by Ikatsu here. [Team order: Ruan Mei > Black Swan > Kafka > Lynx]

Slow Black Swan + Fast Kafka DoT team – sample showcase done by Dreamy here. [Team order: Ruan Mei > Tingyun > Kafka > Black Swan]

Black Swan Triple DoT team in Pure Fiction – sample showcase done by Ikatsu here. [Team order: Kafka > Ruan Mei > Sampo > Black Swan]

Black Swan without Kafka using other DoT allies

Black Swan + Guinaifen DoT team – sample showcase done by Moon here. [Team order: Asta > Guinaifen > Ruan Mei > Black Swan]

Black Swan + Sampo DoT team – sample showcase done by Ikatsu here. [Team order: Ruan Mei > Black Swan > Sampo > Lynx]

Black Swan + Luka DoT team – sample showcase done by Lv.999 Silverwolf here. [Team order: Huohuo > Luka > Silverwolf > Black Swan]

Black Swan without Ruan Mei using other SPD buffers

Black Swan F2P team - sample showcase done by Ikatsu here. [Team order: Guinaifen > Asta > Black Swan > Lynx]

Black Swan with Asta as SPD support – sample showcase done by Moon here. [Team order: Asta > Fu Xuan > Black Swan > Sampo]

Black Swan Hypercarry

Black Swan Hypercarry team – sample showcase done by Ikatsu here. [Team order: Ruan Mei > Tingyun > Black Swan > Lynx]

E1S1 Black Swan Hypercarry team – sample showcase done by Sleepy here. [Team order: Tingyun > Ruan Mei > Hanya > Black Swan]

Black Swan as Debuffer

Black Swan as debuffer for Dr. Ratio team – this could work if you use BS for her DEF shred only (and you have Ruan Mei in your team); sample showcase done by Rehoo and EdenPlays.

E1 Black Swan as debuffer for Jing Yuan team – E1 Black Swan is like 5* Pela (but with RES reduce instead of DEF shred) for fire, lightning, physical, and wind; sample showcase done by Sleepy here.

Black Swan as debuffer for Blade team – not sure if BS in this showcase is E0 or E1, but BS acts as debuffer for him regardless; sample showcase done by Exodus here.

Black Swan using Freeze Mechanics

Black Swan Freeze team – sample showcase done by Hyrion here. [Team order: Luocha > Pela > Ruan Mei > Black Swan]

Practical Consensus:

In teams with Ruan Mei, Black Swan speed in team showcase mostly ranges from 134 to 140+, while her teammates are ranging from 129 to 153 spd. Sustains are mostly either the slowest or fastest in the team. Other DoT allies are positioned either before or after Black Swan.

Ruan Mei is mostly used in Black Swan teams. This could be explained by Ruan Mei’s talent where she could reduce the SPD needed by Black Swan. With the enemies having 158 spd and reducing to 154 spd due to break, instead of needing 155 spd for Black Swan, she could settle with 145 spd instead.

Asta is used as alternative for Ruan Mei in F2P teams because she could increase the SPD of allies with her ultimate. Both Ruan Mei and Asta are positioned before Black Swan.

But, if no Ruan Mei in team, Black Swan is mostly built with slow build, with her DoT allies stacking as much DoTs as possible for her Arcana stacks. If BS is built with fast build (e.g having 155+ spd), this could alleviate the SP usage of the team because she could opt to use Basics instead.

Black Swan DMG relies on enemy turns, thus avoid using slow debuffs and imprisonment on enemies in her teams. However, she could utilize freeze mechanic and Ruan Mei’s break delay because despite freezing the enemies, the enemies still take their turn before being pushed back to take another later turn. This means that the enemies get two DoT turn triggers after getting frozen.

Some teams are quirky, but eh, it doesn’t matter. As long as their team could 3-star the stage, why make a problem out of it?

— Sample Black Swan Builds for Reference —

Fast Black Swan Build by u/-lightningstr1ike-

Fast Black Swan and Slow Kafka Builds by u/Mozaary

Sources

Black Swan Build Guide by Moon

Black Swan Build Guide by SevyPlays

Black Swan Build Guide by Braxophone

Black Swan Build Guide by Gladius

Black Swan Build Guide by GuobaCertified

Black Swan E1 vs S1 Analysis Video by iSUMMON

Black Swan’s Calculations by Hunterkee

Black Swan’s Calculations by Bonk

Black Swan Light Cone and Relic Comparison by Guoba Certified and Kygen

Black Swan E1 vs S1 Analysis Sheet by iSUMMON

2.0 Banner Warp Advice and Insights [Credits: @.regnum771 (Victor Charlie), @kuratine (Houseplant - EN), @soul_fish (Soul Fish), @1orange (1orange), @darkangel]

Black Swan Team Variations by Ikatsu

Zero Speed Swan and 200 Speed Kafka by Dreamy

Black Swan and Guinaifen Team Showcase by Moon

Black Swan and Luka Team Showcase by Lv.999 Silverwolf

Black Swan and Dr. Ratio Team Showcase by Rehoo

Black Swan with Dr. Ratio and Pela Team Showcase by EdenPlays

Black Swan with Asta and Sampo Team Showcase by Moon

Black Swan Freeze Team Showcase by Hyrion

E1S1 Black Swan Hypercarry Team Showcase by Sleepy

E1 Black Swan and Jing Yuan Team Showcase by Sleepy

Black Swan and Blade Team Showcase by Exodus

Fast Black Swan Build Showcase by u/-lightningstr1ke

Fast Black Swan and Slow Kafka Build Showcase by u/Mozaary

Fast BS, Slow BS, and Classical SPD BS Discussion by u/L0wpriority

Counterargument post on Fast BS, Slow BS, and Classical SPD BS Discussion by u/guobacertified

Uploaded on Patch 2.0

➥ Back to my HSR masterlist.

Author’s Note:

I compiled this guide because I don’t understand the talks about Black Swan kit whenever I would go lurk around in HSR-focused servers. Also, I needed something to convince myself that my F2P self can’t afford her for my DoT team. 😂

Update Log

02/10/2024 - Uploaded this post.

02/11/2024 – Added Moon’s BS + Asta team, Hyrion’s BS Freeze team, and Ikatsu’s BS Triple DoT team in Team showcase part; added Asta and freeze mechanic explanation in Practical Consensus part; added Gladius’s Build Guide in sources; added Trace priority; added the discussion links for Fast BS, Slow BS, and Classical SPD BS in ATK% or SPD on boots? part

02/13/2024 – Added classification in Team Showcase in Practice; added Sleepy’s BS Hypercarry team and BS + Jingyuan team in Team Showcase part; rephrased recommended SPD in Endgame stats; added ATK% in Body main stat

02/14/2024 – Added Exodus’s BS + Blade team in Team showcase part

02/23/2024 - Replaced the line dividers

02/29/2024 – Added GuobaCertified's and iSUMMON's video links in Sources

[callsign-rogueone]

by your side - b.d.

Bodhi Durran x girlfriend!reader Your friends suggest that your recent bouts of nausea might be something more, and it sends you into a spiral, but Bodhi is there for you, as always. [requested] wc: 1.1k 🏷: no spoilers this time? set toward the beginning of Iron Flame (his third year and yours). descriptions of vomit / nausea, anxiety, one (1) reference to sex. healthy established relationship between reader and Bodhi :) writing this one was fun because I know exactly how it feels (it sucks lmao)

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Imogen says rather indelicately, patting your back as you heave into the grass at afternoon formation for the third time in three days, “but is there any way you could be…”

You blink once, twice, realizing what she’s implying, and the mere idea has your stomach turning again, but there’s nothing left in your system - you haven’t been able to keep food down for days.

“Imogen,” Sloane scolds from your other side, still holding your hair back from your face, “we agreed that now was not the time.”

You take measured sips from your waterskin, trying to rinse the acid from your throat, but the burning feeling doesn’t subside.

You look to Violet, who remains quiet as the grave.

“I agree that it’s a possibility,” she says carefully. “But either way, we’re here for you, and I know he will be too.”

Oh, gods. You hadn’t even considered having this conversation with Bodhi yet. What would you even say to him? Hey, I know we’re in military school and doing this whole double-agent-arms-dealing thing on the weekends and there’s a very real chance that neither of us will make it to next month, but I think I'm pregnant with your child?

The women you’ve come to regard as younger sisters can sense that you’re spiraling.

“He’s a good man,” Sloane says, rare praise from her, “and he loves you. You’ll find a way to get through this together, whatever it is.”

You’re too drained to argue, but that doesn’t stop the swirl of thoughts in your head. 

You, Bodhi, and a child.

Maybe in another life, where the both of you hadn’t been conscripted to Basgiath, and you weren’t in mortal danger all the time… but even then, you’re barely adults yourselves, and your parents won’t be able to help you from the grave. You’d be doing this entirely on your own.

You shake the feeling off. Today is a Saturday, one that you have free. You’ve completed your assignments already. You’ll try to sleep this off, you decide, and if that still doesn’t kick it, you’ll see a healer. 

Sleep comes easily with how exhausted you are, but it does not show you mercy.

Muscled arms cradle a bundle of blankets. You recognize the swirling pattern of Bodhi’s relic easily, having spent many nights tracing the black ink with your fingertips as you lay beside him in the afterglow.

There’s a soft sound of discomfort from the baby. “Shh, darling,” he soothes, rocking them gently. “We don’t want to wake your mama.”

A hand rests on his shoulder; Xaden’s. “She looks just like you,” he says quietly, a soft smile on his face. 

A tiny hand peeks from the blanket, stretching to grasp Bodhi’s finger, which now bears a silver wedding ring.

You shake yourself awake, heart pounding as you move to sit up.

There’s a knock at your door. “It’s me.” Bodhi.

“Come in,” you reply weakly, and you hear the lock click — the day you had moved in, Xaden helped you ward it so that only you and Bodhi could open the door, doing the same for Bodhi’s room down the hall.

“Vi said you weren’t feeling good, so I brought you dinner,” he says gently, sitting on the side of your bed and touching a hand to your cheeks. “No fever,” he observes, kissing your forehead, and continuing to check you over for injury.

You’re going to cry. “Bo,” you say quietly, “I need to talk to you.”

“Anything, darling.” He says, ready to listen, and your heart twists hearing the same petname he’d called your daughter.

“I don’t know if it was a vision or just a dream, but…” you swallow, the words getting stuck in your throat.

Bodhi stills beside you, fearing the worst. 

Your signet gives you clouded images of the future, but they usually aren’t happy sights. You’ve come to talk to him about your visions in the middle of the night many times, as distressed as you are now. 

“What did you see?” He asks gently, taking your hands in his.

“You, holding a baby girl. Xaden was there, too, but I woke up before I could see anything else.”

He doesn’t follow.

“I’ve been throwing up for days, and I think… I think I might be pregnant,” you whisper, eyes brimming with tears. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Oh, darling, don’t apologize.“ He pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “I love you, and I will be by your side every step of the way in either case.”

His words of reassurance are the last straw, and you finally start to cry, your tears dampening his collar.

“I’m going to stay right here, for as long as you want me to, and then we can go see the healers, together.”

You nod against his shoulder, too exhausted to respond.

Every step of the way.

He holds your hand all the way across the bridge to the other side of the college, only letting go when a kind older woman in pale blue healer’s robes comes to take you into an exam room.

You stay quiet as she takes your pulse, listens to your heart, and goes through the motions of a physical.

“You appear to be reacting to something you’ve been eating or drinking.” She diagnoses, handing you a small paper bag with medicine to take. “This should help.”

“So I’m not…,” you trail off, and she knows exactly what you mean. She’d seen how terrified you were walking in here, hand in hand with your boyfriend, and instantly realized what you were concerned about.

“Not with child,” she confirms with a knowing smile, and a weight is lifted from your shoulders. Thank Zhinal. 

Bodhi is still waiting outside. He stands as soon as he sees you, ready to draw you into a warm embrace.

“It was those damn berries,” you say, shaking your head, and he laughs, no doubt feeling the same relief as you. The rich sound soothes every nerve in your body.

He tugs you closer, wrapping you in his arms. The paper bag crinkles between you. “The moment we graduate, I’m marrying you.”

“What?” You ask, stunned.

He pulls back so he can look you in the eye.

“I thought about it while you were with the healer,” he says, as if it’s that simple, “and I decided that I want to be there for you for the rest of my life. Through all the visions, good and bad.” 

You smile up at him, pure happiness flowing through you. “I love you, Bodhi Durran.”

“I love you more, darling,” he says, tucking the bag into a pocket of his flight jacket and taking your hand. “Now, I snuck you an extra piece of cake from dinner, and if you aren’t going to eat it, I will.”

You burst into laughter. Yeah, you decide. This is the man you want by your side forever.

[fictionfixations]

so i made a post about getting yanqing and not knowing what to really do with him (planned to possibly replace another character on my team but idk)

was going to get back at you if i figured anything out. still dont have an opinion. ratio and yanqing are both now fully built (the only talents that haven't gotten fully leveled up require like the weekly boss drops)

yanqing only has higher stats cause ive maxed out his relics, but otherwise they're easily changeable for each other. ive also been trying to be more mindful of other relics instead of just giving everyone musketeer, but the only one i havent updated yet is ratio's

the planar ornaments whatever they're called (i STILL dont know what they are im gonna be honest, all i know is you can get them from simulated universe on the exact world i actually cant beat. you can still get rewards, but annoying. there'll be a more convenient ver in 2.3 tho?) i gave them to yanqing for the atk bonus so he's missing one (honestly. i couldve abandoned ratio and given final victor to yanqing. but hes a good unit. and i cant bring myself to give final victor to someone whose not ratio [either that or aventurine but i dont have him, and it doesnt fit his path either])

hh

i feel im going to reach further towards the 'having so many good units that you want to play them all but you cant because there arent enough team slots'

if it was possible to use consumables during battle then i can probably rock a no healer/shielder. but uh. this isnt genshin LMFAO and at that point would probably be like 'whats the point of even having healers' (even if thered be a cooldown, or like using an item would use up that character's turn or something)

anyway also another update

i got robin to 120 speed. its. probably not necessary considering her ult is apparently fixed at 90 or something? (i dont know if thats true or not)

and i also actually dont know what speed does in this game (..maybe it affects when the units' turns are?)

but ive been grinding it for THIS because i already had this on her so why not, right? (before she was rocking a 2pc. ...2pc set? it feels awkward repeating it. i cant remember if you put a space between. i dont know these terms man i just see what ppl do. but it was more worth it to do the speed thing instead imo so br.)

[hydropyro]

Webs of Fate - Chapter 1

CW: Abdirak

ao3 link

It was not unusual for him to have been invited to travel and give lessons on his ministrations. Nor was it unusual for his holy work to be — misunderstood — by those extending the invitations. He enjoyed the calls from healers and the like who sought his Maiden’s guidance and gifts through his skilled hands. He did not so much enjoy the requests from thieves and butchers and torturers who hoped he could use his gifts to procure information and secure uncouth deals. 

So it was not unusual when the invitation had come by some new group who called themselves ‘ true souls ’ of some ‘ absolute ’ and help retrieve the information necessary for securing, what he assumed was, a holy relic in a defunct temple to Selûne. But, it had been unusual for his ever gracious Maiden to compel him to accept. 

Though confused, he never questioned Her Grace’s will. He had promptly packed up his instruments and necessities and made the short pilgrimage to the location. 

He did not enjoy harm. Pain willfully given up to his goddess was always more fulfilling — but he never denied her will. Whomever he was being sent to assist in the torture of surely deserved it in Her Grace’s eyes. 

The next oddity on his arrival to the derelict temple was that it had been inhabited by a horde of goblins — larger than he would have ever thought the chaotic beings to be able to organize. The fear he’d felt when entering the encampment had been fleeting, and he punished himself the next morning, offering up his pain in tribute to Her Grace for his body’s lapse of faith. Goblins were notoriously violent and deadly, and when walking through the camp to the inner temple he’d seen the remains of humanoids. If it was his Lady’s will that he should die here, though, he would accept it gratefully. 

That had not been the case. In his morning worship, he had thanked her for allowing him to continue to serve her greatness. And he’d pleaded for patience. 

He was a patient man by nature, but the crude and primitive ways of the goblins were taxing like nothing he’d endured in the past. Yes, their enthusiasm for the deliverance of pain was admirable — but it was no wonder those they meant to procure information from ended up dead before the knowledge sought had been shared. 

He stood in front of their most recent victim — hung in the rack, beaten and bloody — then, using a course sponge to clear the many wounds on the man’s body of debris before setting about healing the injuries. As he worked, he muttered to himself, praising his goddess for the beauty she had bestowed upon the man’s flesh. He had sent the goblin torturer away to fetch food and drink for the prisoner lest he die. 

“What sort of weirdos hang out with goblins, eh?” The man’s voice was weak despite his insult. 

Abdirak did not respond. 

“How bad did ya have to fuck up to end up serving goblins?” 

“The only one I serve is my Maiden.” He set aside the shallow bowl and sponge, hovering an open palm over a deep gash in the man’s stomach and murmuring words of healing. As he did he sank the tip of a thin, needle-like blade into his own thigh — slowly — achingly slow — and thanked the Maiden for blessing him with his magic. 

I have been assisting the goblins,” Abdirak clarified as the agonizing euphoria spread from the bleeding hole he worked into his thigh, though his veins -- passionately hot -- to his fingers that channeled the magic his Maiden bestowed on him. “Presently, I am assisting you .” 

The prisoner scoffed. “Assisting me? You stood back and let that little green fuck beat me half-to-death!” 

“Well past half,” Abdirak said. He grimaced, remembering how rudimentary the torturer’s work had been. There had been pain -- and oh how the prisoner had wailed -- but the damage was too great, the blood flowed too freely, for such meager results. He had not raised a hand to the prisoner himself -- his Maiden would not object to his stealing the sweet screams of agony from his pretty lungs -- but Abdirak did not like to force and steal . For him only the songs willingly given from those who wanted to offer their pain up to Loviatar were preferred. 

Instead he had strung up a goblin near the prisoner and demonstrated his talents on them. Unlike their crude peers, Abdirak could make them sing and plead to the heavens with naught a drop of blood if he wanted. He often did not -- he reveled in everything that the water of life offered -- its sight, scent, texture, flavor -- the implications of its procurement. But, he too could drain a man dry with no more pain than the slight prick necessary for the bloodletting, so it was no indicator itself of success. 

Should the prisoner request his skilled interrogation in lieu of the senseless beatings he’d endured thus far, Abdirak would gladly oblige. 

“Is the information you hold so dear worth this, child?” The priest asked. He had withdrawn the blade from his thigh and continued cleaning the man’s wounds. 

The younger man suppressed a small sob. “I already told you -- I don’t know where the bloody ‘Nightsong’ is. Aradin was the one leading the expedition!” 

Yes, Abdirak knew that. He had heard it several times in the last few hours. “You know where this ‘ Aradin ’ went when he ran, though? Is that information worth all of this?” 

The prisoner swallowed. Abdirak had not brought any harm to him, and the Paingiver could see a glint of hope in the human’s gaze. 

Loviatar craved all pain -- largely indiscriminate of race, class, or creed -- but his fellow man, bound to the rack before him, was desperate to connect to the human -- torturer or not. 

“They’ve got children there--” the prisoner breathed, his gaze boring into Abdirak -- the Paingiver needed to know and understand. 

And he did. The Loviatan nodded solemnly. His Maiden was impassive and bloodthirsty -- but Abdirak was only a man. A child could not understand and accept the intricacies and importance of pain, nor could they willingly offer up their suffering to his goddess. The slaughter that the goblins would bring upon their people, young and old alike, would be crude, cruel, and final . 

Perhaps not for quite the same reasons as the man hanging on the rack before him, Abdirak also did not like the idea of the goblins finding the children. 

He continued his work in silence. Once he deemed the prisoner stable, Abdirak took his leave, returning to the neighboring alcove where the’d set up his equipment to take respite and pray. 

The sharp barbs of the nine-flailed scourge caught his flesh and tore deliciously with each heavy swing. As much as he loved his many scars, Abdirak took excellent care of his back and shoulders to ensure it remained a clean slate, ripe and supple for offering his self-inflicted agony with the iconic scourge he worked so hard to earn and keep the right to wield. 

He cried his thanks to the Maiden, smiling up at the sky though his brows knit together with sweet agony . He stopped a moment to breathe -- and only then did he hear the sound of footsteps behind him. The goblins were everywhere in this place, leaving no room for privacy -- not that Abdirak believed worship to necessarily be a private affair -- but the boots that trod toward him were too large, the strides too long, to be a goblin. 

He stood and turned to face the newcomer. He was not surprised to see a drow standing in front of him, not since he had met the ‘ true soul ’, Minthara, but the two elves and the human the drow had in tow was unexpected. “Greetings, child. I’ve met few aside from goblins here.” He studied the drow a moment, keenly aware that the unfamiliar man was giving him the same treatment in kind. “Ah, are you also here to assist with the prisoner?” Drow were known for their deft fingers and intelligence. It excited the Paingiver to think that, perhaps, he had a new student who would be more receptive to his teachings. 

“What prisoner?” The drow asked, his expression unreadable. He sported a deep scar over his right eye and down across the cheekbone, but it was the only mark that graced his beautiful, elven features. 

He had not worked closely with drow personally, but was familiar. Many drow found themselves in the embrace of Loviatar once they came to the surface, no longer in the favor of the spider goddess, Lolth. Abdirak supposed that this drow’s presence with the surface elves and human, along with his ignorance to the prisoner, meant that he had not come to learn the art of pain. 

Abdirak breathed an annoyed sigh, keeping his temper in check at the thought of being on his own even longer with these beasts . “The gentleman being held next door. My -- ‘ acquaintance ’ -- is working on him, I believe.”

Like the prisoner had been, the Loviatan found himself seeking understanding from this being so much like him. “While I was thrilled to be invited here, I must confess, I find the goblins ,” he spat the word, his patience for them ever waning, “and their ‘ methods ’ -- crude and primitive .

“Pain without a purpose is a terrible thing, wouldn’t you agree?” 

He saw the drow’s smirk and slight glance to his companions. “I thought a follower of Loviatar would approve of pain.” 

Abdirak returned the slight grin. “You know the Maiden of Pain? How refreshing. But there is more to us than that . 

“Yes, we worship her through pain -- often our own ; it is an intimate and loving thing -- one we offer up.” He searched the drow’s expression. It almost seemed like the man was waiting -- wanting -- expecting ? 

“If you would permit it, I can show you -- first-hand. ”

The male elf following the drow gave an exaggerated groan, drawing the Paingiver’s attention to him for a moment. “I must see this. Don’t you dare say no.” 

Abdirak kept his expression impassive. He considered rescinding the offer -- as much as he yearned  to see just how far the pretty drow could go -- lest the blood he craved to spill would send the vampire into a frenzy. 

The drow smirked at his companion’s remake before saying, “Alright,” to the priest. 

The Paingiver could hardly contain his excitement. After just two days with the ignorant goblins his fingers ached to illicit the cleansing love of his goddess on the flesh of someone intelligent enough to appreciate it. “Oh, I have something exquisite in mind,” he breathed. He touched his fingers together to settle his nerves a moment, “Both Loviatar and I are interested in how you handle pain , dear one.

“And should you delight her, you will most assuredly receive her most gracious blessing -- trust me .”

He glanced at those who were accompanying the drow. “It may be better for your companions to take their leave, though -- there will be blood, and I fear they may -- react poorly .” The vampire’s sanguine eyes widened, though the elf woman and the human beside her both looked confused. 

The drow was not concerned -- despite the broach on his breast that bore the symbol of Kelemvor. It seemed that none were aware of the monster in their midst.  

“What do you mean?” the human asked. 

His job was to cultivate pain -- not sow discord -- so he said, “Some with weaker stomachs may feel ill at the sight of blood.” 

The human glared at the Paingiver with his single eye, but didn’t respond. Instead, he crossed his arms and planted his feet, clearly unwilling to leave. The vampire, who must have known now that Abdirak had identified his nature, also remained in place. 

Abdirak gestured invitingly further into the room. “Simply face the wall,” he said to the drow, “and we can begin.” 

The drow man did as was asked eagerly , as though he’d been waiting for the invitation. “Please, use the scourge,” he said as he passed Abdirak to take his place in the ring of candles. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the side, letting it fall onto the heavy stone table to his right. 

Abdirak gave a light chuckle, reaching down to feel the coiled leather strapped to his hip. “It is a lot for the first time,” he warned. “Might I recommend a club or blade?” 

“I can take it.” 

Abdirak nodded, though the cleric could not see, and unfurled his precious scourge from his hip. “Yes --” he muttered to himself. “This will do nicely. 

“The pain you suffer will cleanse you ,” Abdirak encouraged. “Do not fight it.” The Paingiver shifted his weight, steadying his stance, before swinging at the drow. The first strike would be the lightest, though the barbs still bore into his onyx flesh and tore away, letting the red flow forth in their wake. 

The drow cried out and his body became tense for a long moment, but he remained in place. 

“Your voice sounds so sweet, child. Keep going !”

As he pulled back his arm to swing again he heard the vampire mutter, “My, who knew our friend had so much blood in them?” and he paused. There was no movement behind him, so the vampire was keeping his hunger in check for the moment.

“Pain is proof that we live .” A follower of Kelemvor could surely appreciate that sentiment. “Revel in it.” He swung again, putting more force behind the motion. It would be a long time before he gave it his all, and few outside his clergy could bear his full might. 

The drow screamed again, though his voice seemed to laugh as the delicious sound ripped from his throat faded. He was panting, letting out slight gasps that sounded so pleased . 

“That’s it, dear one! Let Loviatar hear you ! You are doing so well ,” Abdirak praised. The blood dripped more, the first drops beginning to seep into the fabric of his trousers. “ Do not give in now .” 

He adjusted his feet and rolled his shoulder, prepared to hit him much harder than before. The drow was a natural, and the sounds of his pleasure danced in unison with the song of pain. He murmured under his breath, thanking his goddess for delivering him such a fine student, before he swung. With each swing he felt a heat in his chest, grasping at his soul in an agonizing embrace -- his Maiden’s pleasure -- her approval. 

The barbs caught deep in the drow’s onyx flesh, some of the flails wrapping around his torso and digging into his soft hips. His knees seemed to buckle and the drow caught himself against the wall with his hands, gasping -- but the scream came when Abdirak jerked his instrument back, audibly ripping the flesh. The drow fell to a knee, but still he reveled in the pain, his joyous laughter intermingling with his scream. 

Abdirak’s soul burned -- rewarding him with a surge of magic, but he also felt the compulsion to end the session there. He was here doing a job, and as blessed as this intermission had been, he had to return to it. “Sweet child,” Abdirak breathed. He placed his scourge, the flail ends soaked in the drow’s life essence, onto the side table near the man’s shirt, and placed a steady hand on his bare shoulder. So often those receiving ministries would have their minds go elsewhere , soaring in ecstasy so few other acts could bring. “Come back to me, dear one.” 

The drow’s fingers were contrast in every way as they rested overtop the Paingiver’s -- delicate, soft, and dark. “Thank you,” he heard the drow murmur, and Abdirak took a step back to give the man space to stand. 

“You bore the pain like a true believer,” Abdirak praised, feeling the scars on his face pulled by the smile he could not contain. “I am proud to have served you this penance.” He gave the drow a slight bow, wanting him to know that it was he who had done a great service for Abdirak. 

“I enjoyed myself,” the man said, smiling in return. His tongue flicked out, running over his soft lower lip quickly, and beads of sweat were forming at his hairline and in the hollow of his throat. 

Abdirak regretted having to stop. He wanted to find out exactly where the breaking point was for this man, even if it took them days to reach it. Here he was dreadfully underequipped -- had they been back in Calimport he would have so many wonderful instruments to use -- and he would learn every song the elven man could sing. 

A shot of pleasure ran through him at the thought,  from the base of his neck straight down to his hips, and Abdirak rolled with the wave. He lifted his face skyward, his eyes closed and unable to suppress his groan. The Maiden did not only reward in pain. “As did I, dear one .

“Loviatar herself found your performance -- inspiring. She has deemed you worthy of her blessing.” He could feel the heat around his soul moving through to his hands as he performed the somatic gestures to cast the blessing. 

A red glow filled the space between them and washed over the drow, who stood straighter and sighed in relief as his health and fortitude was refreshed. 

“Alright,” the elf woman urged the drow, “if we are done playing around, we do have a job to do.” 

Abdirak held up his hands to the drow. “I need to rest and pray -- consider our session. But, please, if time permits, I would not turn you away.” 

The drow only nodded, and they left. The vampire gave his companion a smart quip, but shot a suspicious glance back at Abdirak as the group left. 

He returned to his place at the altar, continuing to offer his pain to his goddess, this time in the form of long, methodic strokes of a blade across his abdomen. When he prayed he could almost shut the rest of the world out. Not too much that it would compromise his safety, but enough that he could focus wholly on his dedication to the Maiden’s grace. 

He waited as long as he could before begrudgingly returning to the prisoner. No doubt his goblin ‘acquaintance’ was going to kill the man if left unsupervised. As he rounded the wall, though, the rack was empty. 

Abdirak frowned. Before drawing any attention to the prisoner’s absence, he approached the rack and studied the cuffs. They had not been opened with a key, which would have remained in place. It must have been picked -- 

He crouched and touched his fingers lightly to the ground. There was a trail of blood and the slight imprint of a barefoot in the dust. Following the drops of blood to the right, Abdirak found a concealed doorway, still cracked open. The prisoner had escaped. The man smiled to himself. While it was disappointing to have lost his clients, as the goblins surely had no use for him with their prisoner gone -- it was nice to think that the odd little band lead by the Kelemvoran cleric was to blame for the prisoner’s nimble escape. At the thought, a warmth spread through him again.