#fictober room of swords

[slusheeduck]

Fictober 2023 Day 24 - Prompt: "Do you know a way out?" Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 “Another day, another basement full of hidden horrors.” Astarion looked over to the others as he shut a book he’d looked through. “I’m beginning to think every house on the Sword Coast has a torture chamber or secret necromancy lab underneath it.”

It was meant to be a quick detour, stopping by this house on the edge of Wyrm’s Crossing. Falerin and Gale’s fault, of course; a particularly sad-looking refugee had asked for information on her wife, and they’d been incapable of saying no, despite his and Shadowheart’s best efforts.

But, at least, this secret passage behind a sneaky door in a dark and scary basement had plenty of treasure to snag. Astarion couldn’t be too mad about it. And it was cute when Falerin got into full do-gooder mode, he’d admit that.

“Oh, look at this.” His attention was grabbed as Falerin found a small jewelry box. He wandered over, arm draping around the half-drow’s shoulders as he did. It was an easy touch, effortless and with nothing promised in it—still odd, but getting more comfortable by the day. Maybe one day, he could work his way up to…well, that was hardly the matter at hand. He tilted his head, curls brushing Falerin’s ear as he looked at the jewelry box in Fal’s hands.

“Do you think it’s a lead?” he asked, then gave him a pointy grin. “Or am I finally rubbing off on you?”

Falerin rolled his eyes with a smile as he opened it. Inside was a pretty pearl necklace, with a key that dangled from it as he lifted it out of the box. “A lead. It should fit in that door Gale found earlier.”

“Then let’s go. The sooner we’re out of here, the sooner we can get our reward.”

They reconvened with the other two in the room with the door—it wound up being much larger than it seemed, opening into a large cavern. The four of them went slowly and cautiously, and Astarion’s hand rested on Falerin’s back as they walked—half for support, half to yank him back before he stepped on a trap. Eventually, they came to a fork in the path. All four stopped, silently deliberating. Shadowheart and Astarion went to examine the right path, Gale and Falerin the left.

As they both edged toward the path’s respective curves, Astarion called, “Watch for--!”

There was a small click. He looked down at Shadowheart’s foot, on a laughably obvious false stone.

“Well, shit,” he said.

The cavern rumbled, shaking them. Bits of rubble fell from above, leaving him and Shadowheart ducking back toward the entrance. What was the trap? Rockfall? Poison gas? They made it back to where they came in, only to see the entrance now blocked by a large boulder that neither of them had any hope of moving.

“Well. Shit,” Shadowheart said.

“Are you all right?” Falerin’s voice, muffled as it was by layers of rocks, came through. “We heard…well, it’s obvious what we heard.”

“We’re fine, darling,” Astarion called back. “Just caught on this side. Are you both all right?”

“Just shaken,” came Gale’s voice. “Otherwise all limbs and other parts accounted for.”

“What a charming metric,” Shadowheart said dryly. She looked down the path. “Let’s see if we can meet farther down. There must be some way to get back out, at least for one of our paths. In the worst case, whoever gets out to camp can probably get Karlach to come get us out.”

“Good plan,” Falerin called. “We’ll meet with you further down. Well, hopefully.”

Two sets of footsteps faded on the other side, and Astarion turned to look at Shadowheart.

“Well, looks like we’re going to have some quality time together,” he said lightly as he started walking. “While I have you, let’s talk about your hair.”

Shadowheart’s dark brows furrowed as she followed him. “Why are we talking about my hair?”

“Well, they do say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” the vampire said, tossing his own pale curls. Shadowheart scoffed.

“I did not dye my hair to match yours, Astarion.”

“No?” He clicked his tongue. “Could have fooled me. Same shade and everything. I bet people will think we’re twins.”

Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “I’m dying it back when we get to camp.”

~~~~

Falerin puffed out a breath as he kept a careful eye on their surroundings. “I mean, the good news is there’s only one way, it looks like,” he said to Gale. He paused, looking back at him. “Do…you know a way out?”

“This may surprise you, Fal, but I haven’t spent much time wandering the dark tunnels under Baldur’s Gate,” Gale said dryly.

Falerin rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, you might have some…spell of find exit or something.”

“Actually, I was working on one ages ago. Granted, it was more as a way to get out of particularly boring conversations, but I bet I could have adapted it for this.” He shrugged. “But in my current state, we’re stuck doing this the old-fashioned way. Unless your patron has anything to help us.”

“No. She probably thinks this is funny.”

“The age-old trouble with the fey.” Gale glanced over at Falerin for a moment. “Speaking of your pact…does…Astarion know the story behind it?”

“Hm? I mean, he knows about my patron. That’s not a secret.”

“Not your patron.” Gale glanced up, more for somewhere else to look rather than for a secret way out. “Your…condition. How long you have left.”

Falerin froze for a moment, then shook his head as he pressed on. “We’ve got bigger issues than that to worry about. No point in bringing it up.”

Gale hesitated. For a moment, it seemed he was going to let it drop. But he never could let anything drop, could he? “I just…he’s different now. Far different than the fellow who had a knife at your throat as an introduction. I dare say you’re a good influence on him. It seems to me a bit cruel to…”

“This really isn’t any of your business, Gale.” Falerin was very rarely short, but the words were crisp as they left his mouth, and his unearthly purple eye glinted as he sent a sidelong look at the wizard. He looked ahead. “Door up ahead, let’s go check that out.”

~~~~~~

“Can’t you just…pray us out?” Astarion asked, crossing his arms with a huff.

“It doesn’t work like that, and I don’t think Shar wants to hear from me right now even if it did,” Shadowheart said. “It’s like me asking if you could just turn into a bat and find a way out.”

“I do wonder sometimes how the bat thing happened,” he said, absently kicking along the stone wall for some sort of tripwire or hidden latch.

“I mean, I read about it in a novel.” She looked off to the side, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. “Among…other things.”

Astarion stopped in his tracks, staring at her. “Shadowheart. Are you telling me, right now, as we are trapped, that you’ve read vampire smut?”

“It was a couple novels from an author I enjoyed…laughing at,” she said quickly, trying not to look flustered. “Obviously, I don’t think any of it’s accurate.”

“Obviously, it’s not.” They walked in silence for a moment. Then, all at once, she blurted out, “Okay, but can vampires actually make fog appear?”

“Can we what.”

“In the novel, the vampire was able to summon fog at will and control the weather. He usually used it to set the mood for…well.”

Astarion stopped dead in his tracks, staring at her. “Shadowheart. Darling. If I could control the weather,  I would not have a fucking tadpole in my head.”

Shadowheart held up her hands. “I was just curious.” She looked around, then pointed up ahead. “Do you see that?”

Astarion looked. “Oh, that’s interesting,” he said, smiling. “That looks like the back of a bookcase.”

“Must be a door.”

“Which means it must open.” He pulled a lockpick from his bag with a pointy grin. “Let’s try it.”

They approached it carefully, being extra mindful of traps. As they got closer, there was undeniably the sound of voices on the other side. They glanced at each other, and Shadowheart pressed a finger to her lips as she leaned in. “That sounds like…oh, it’s Falerin and Gale. Thank the Lady of S…the moon.” She squinted, leaning closer. “Sounds like they’re arguing. Should we go in?”

“Them? Arguing?” Astarion leaned in as well. “Oh, they are. No, let’s let them go—they never argue. I wonder what it’s about.”

“Knowing Fal? He probably licked something again.” She glanced down at Astarion. “I have to ask. How does that…work, with him being a bit odd?”

Astarion raised his eyebrows. “Did you see the look on his face when I nearly slit his throat? I knew he was a freak from the moment I laid eyes on him.” He gave a fond little smile. “But I…knew he’d be kind, too. And he hasn’t proven me wrong—just look at this mess we’re in. I can’t even be mad at him for it.” The voices on the other side raised slightly, and he quickly shushed Shadowheart. “Oh, I think it’s getting good. Let me get this open so we can hear better.”

~~~~~

The door led to a tiny little work room, with a large bookshelf that seemed directly attached to the rocky wall. No way out that they could immediately see, but if this was here? There had to be a secret door somewhere.

However, Fal had only just started searching when Gale suddenly huffed.

“No, you know what? I can’t leave this lie,” he said, sounding nearly irritated. “You’re my friend, that’s why I haven’t said anything about your situation. But Astarion’s my friend, too, and it’s…you can’t leave him in the dark.”

“Oh, because you’re one to talk,” Falerin shot back, picking up a book. “I remember you conveniently forgetting to mention the fact that you’re a living bomb when we were talking about our illnesses.”

“And you’ll notice that I’ve since told you.”

Falerin set the book down sharply on the table, rattling the alchemy equipment on it. “What’s the point, Gale? It’s just going to upset him, and he doesn’t need that. None of us need that, and we might not even survive long enough for it to be an issue.” He swallowed. “He’s happy. I know he is. This will just…it’d just be unfair.”

“And it’s equally unfair that he’s in the dark.” Gale gave a sigh. “Look, I know the situation you’re in. There’s not as much immediate danger for those around you as there was for me, no, but…but he cares about you. We all care about you. And if anything, when it was me in your position, I…I can’t tell you just how much of a weight was taken off my shoulders just by having support. Even if we can’t do anything to stop it.”

“But that’s it, Gale. It mattered with you. With me…there’s no god asking me to do what Mystra wants you to do. There’s nothing special with me. My sickness really is just that: a sickness.” Falerin let out a long breath. “And really, how should I even bring that up? Just get back to camp and say, ‘Oh, by the way, Astarion, love of my life, once this tadpole’s out of my head, I’m going to be dead in a decade, and you just have to deal with that!’”

Gale’s eyes widened, looking at something just over Falerin’s shoulder. Fal turned around. The bookcase had slid to the side while he’d spoken, and Astarion and Shadowheart stood in the doorway. The vampire’s eyes were wide, lips parted but nothing coming from his mouth.

Falerin’s stomach dropped down to his feet, and his throat tightened. No. No, no, this couldn’t happen, not like this.

“Astarion…” he said, walking forward. “Astarion, please, let me just…” He reached out to Astarion, only for him to bristle and step back before his fingers could so much as brush him.

“Don’t touch me,” he hissed. He glared at him for just a moment more, then abruptly turned and continued walking through the cavern, leaving Falerin behind without so much as a glance.

[Part 2]

Fictober 2023 Drabble Master Post

[angelswing236]

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Fictober 2023

Category: Fanfiction

Fandom: Downton Abbey

‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you.’

Closing the door to the waiting room at York railway station, Mary paused, turning towards the voice behind her. ‘And why not?’

‘Because if you commit yourself to staying in this room, you’ll be stuck having to make conversation with me for the rest of the journey,’ Matthew said, rising to his feet. ‘And I know that is not a fate you would enjoy.’

‘Do you consider yourself to be that uninteresting?’ Mary asked, knowing she was already trapped, manners and etiquette not allowing her to back out of the room now they had begun to converse.

‘No, but I know you consider me to be a very dull boy,’ Matthew replied, raising his eyebrow in a slight challenge.

Mary closed the door and walked across to sit in the chair beside him. ‘So, prove me wrong.’

‘And how would I do that?’ he asked as he sat back down.

‘Tell me something about yourself that you think is surprising or interesting in some way.’

‘Like what?’

‘Anything. You choose what you think is the most interesting thing you’ve ever done,’ Mary said, settling into her chair, crossing her hands in her lap and waiting to see what he would come up with. Privately, she doubted it would be anything too outrageous.

Matthew thought for a moment. ‘I acted in school productions.’

‘Really?’ Mary asked, mildly surprised. He had not struck her as the dramatic type. She would have guessed that he would have been the type to do all his schoolwork diligently and thoroughly without wasting time on trivial pursuits like acting. ‘And what roles did you play?’

‘Quite a few. Lots of Shakespeare as you might imagine.’

‘I suppose you did Hamlet, did you?’

‘Yes, we did, amongst others.’

‘And who did you play? The golden Prince of Denmark himself, I suppose,’ Mary said dryly, imagining Matthew’s blonde hair sporting a burnished gold crown as he waved a sword in angst.

‘No, I didn’t,’ he said, his eyes glinting. ‘I played Ophelia.’

‘Ophelia?’ she echoed, her eyes widening in surprise.

‘Yes.’

‘Next, you’ll be telling me you were Juliet, too,’ Mary said, making a small joke of it.

‘I was actually. Opposite Jonathan Lawrence’s Romeo. I was quite the desirable Shakespearean maiden,’ Matthew confided, giving her a cheeky smile. ‘Apparently, I was quite irresistible with my tumbling golden locks, big blue eyes and rosy lips. All the boys wanted to kiss me.’

Mary let out a shocked laugh, picturing Matthew as a girl and deciding he would have made quite an attractive one. ‘I should imagine they would.’

‘The scripts called for it. And it was the only time the school formally allowed any kissing between boys.’

‘But you didn’t actually kiss them, did you?’

Matthew sat back primly, a smile on his lips. ‘Now, now, Mary, you of all people should know that a lady never tells.’

Mary gawped at him. Perhaps he wasn’t as dull as she’d thought.

[sound-wav3]

Fictober 2024

The Morphing Blade

Prompt: 23 ("we can fix this, I know we can")

Fandom: Original Work

Rating: E+10

Content: Mild Swearing

Damn. Why did the boss have to be a Terra Forma? My sword sucks against rock monsters. Shit. Dodge! Ugh. Damn. My armor is way to heavy for this. This had better be worth it.

"Yo! There's an opening to the core on its back!" Thank you Hemlock. Now to just get to do a ground smash. Easy dodge. Climb up the back. Glowing spot. And stab!

The Terra Forma howled in pain before crumbling. Hemlock, my fairy companion, flew down to land on my shoulder. "Good work." She beamed at me. Despite her name and the fact she dressed like a goth teenager, Hemlock was usually very cheerful and bright.

"So now what?"

There was the sound of ancient machinery clanging to life. The door at the far end of the boss room began to open. "Now, we claim our prize."

Stepping through the door led into a larger chamber with a curved ceiling. In the middle of the ceiling was a giant blue crystal which shined down onto what I had braved this dungeon for.

"What is it again?"

"'The Morphing Blade'. A magic weapon designed to morph into whatever the wielder needs."

"Oh that thing. I thought the legends said it morphed the wielder into their ideal form."

"Well the translations of ancient texts aren't perfect. But a weapon that's always optimal sounds useful." I climbed the steps up to the platform on which the blade was stuck into. The blade itself didn't look very special. It appeared to be an ordinary iron sword. But if the boss was still guarding it then it must be real.

I reached out and took hold of the hilt. I didn't feel anything yet. "Please don't be fake." I whispered to myself. I pulled and it came right out. I raised the blade and I was suddenly blinded by an intense light! Yes!

Once the light cleared I examined my new blade. Except it wasn't a blade anymore. It was a Halberd! Yes! I love Halberds! And my old had been broken recently. This is perfect!

"Um. Derrick, is that you?"

"Yeah it's me why... why does my voice sound like that?" I looked down at myself. "Why do I have boobs?!"

"Pffft Hahahahaha! Look at your outfit!"

She was right to laugh. I was dressed up like a stereotypical j-pop idol. My dress was short, puffy, and a rainbow of reds and blues. And blindingly sparkly.

"I don't think that's The Morphing Blade. Hahaha. Oh well. We can fix this, I know we can."

"Actually, this kinda rules."

"Wha-"

"This dress is so cute. And my center of gravity feels better for fighting. Plus I have a magic halberd now! And it should change to be any weapon I want." I focused for a moment and it changed into a Twin Blade. "See."

"Alright cool. If you like then let's roll with it. Though Derrick doesn't suit you anymore."

"True enough. Well, I've always liked the name Alice."

"Then let's get out of this dungeon, Alice. I'm starving."

"You got it." I guess the legends of the blade making you your ideal form were true.

[onthesandsofdreams]

A Stark She Remains [11/?]

Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire Characters: Sansa Stark, Ned Stark, Brandon Stark, Rickard Stark, Joffrey Baratheon Warnings: Major Character Death, Blood mention Prompt: #9 from @fictober-event

On AO3

That night, Sansa dreams again. This time, it is her father, grandfather and uncle who are in her dream sitting near Winterfell's heart tree.

She feels her throat close.

"Am I wrong?" She answers. "I know I have delighted and felt relief in the deaths of those of House Lannister, but I worry. For me, am I a murderer? Am I lost?"

"No, child." It is her grandfather who speaks. "House Lannister declared war on House Stark the moment they ordered your father's arrest."

"It declared war the moment that weasel Little Finger moved against your father in favor of the Queen and Joffrey," this time is her uncle who speaks. "They started playing a dirty game the moment the Queen looked away and Joffrey had you beaten."

"My child, you are not a murderer." Her father's face is full of sorrow. "The fact that you worry over it is more than what many murderers do. Do you think Joffrey sleeps ill at ease after he ordered my death? After he had you beaten and bloodied? Nay, he does not."

"He is no better than Aerys," her grandfather speaks again, his voice is hard as ice. Strong as the wall, as strong as the foundations of Winterfell. "How can he not be, when he is the result of a brother and sister union?"

This time her breath caughts, what Stannis speaks is true?

Her uncle looks solemn, but angry. So angry. "That bastard is born of incest niece. A false king. An offense to the Gods, Old and New. So, have no fear, the path you thread is just. So, avenge my brother without fear or worries."

"If the circumstances were another," her father's voice is soft."I would tell you to not kill. But I want you to live, so in this case I tell you: Don't listen to me, listen to them about the path you are walking. But know this, I love you and want you to live my darling child. So live."

~~~~

Sansa wakes with a start.

She looks towards the window and sees the clear sight of the sun coming up, and she knows. Joffrey 'Baratheon' dies today.

She takes a deep, calming breath. Then stands and pulls the book from under the bed, she lays in on it and then goes for quill and ink. Opens its carefully, dips her quill in ink, takes another deep breath and writes, Joffrey Baratheon, the Iron Throne. She watches as the ink sinks into the blank page and disappears.

She nods to herself, closes the book and hides it again.

~~~~~

Later on, when Joffery is holding court in the Throne room, one of the supplicant angers him. He yells and moves his hand, the Iron Throne cuts his veins.

He screams and leaps upwards. People yell for the maester.

He steps in his cloak that his mother insisted he wore today. Trips backwards and in the blink of an eye, impales his throat in one of the swords that make the Throne.

The rushing and screaming gets louder.

~~~~

She watches as Joffrey dies without glory. She knows she chose well, people will speak of his unworthiness, of how the Iron Throne rejected him.

She watches as the Queen screams and rushes forward, watches as people scream for Grand Maester. But she knows that Joffrey is dead and there is no saving him.

She pretends to faint.

[lonewolfel]

Fictober 2023 Day 4

Read on AO3 Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender Prompt: 29 - "That's all? Easy." Rating: Gen Characters: Zuko, Azula, Ozai, Ursa, (Iroh and Lu Ten mentioned) Ship: N/A Warnings: implied child abuse, mentions of a child character committing murders Notes: AU where Zuko is trained to be a spy and assassin for Ozai.

Many within the Fire Nation would say Zuko and Azula were like night and day; which was very much the truth. 

Azula was well known to be the golden child, the light of the Fire Nation. She was a firebending protegee who became the youngest person to create blue flames at the age of 10. She was also considered to be a tactical genius. 

Zuko on the other hand was seen as Ozai's disappointment heir. He was not a strong firebender and to the point, the young prince will never be seen firebending in public. He was considered too emotional to be good at strategy or war. Zuko was often considered to be hidden in the shadows of his younger sister; little did they know that that was how he liked it. 

It all started when the boy was 10.

Zuko was sitting by the turtleduck pond while he read a theater scroll.

"What are you doing, dum-dum?" Azula asked. 

Zuko startled at the voice and dropped his theater scroll.

"Leave me alone," Zuko snapped. He leaned down to pick up the scroll. 

"Are you reading one of those stupid scrolls that Mom gets you?" Azula asked knowing full well the answer. 

Zuko blushed and protectively pulled the scroll into his chest. He knew that his younger sister was more than willing to burn it if she got her hands on it. 

"None of your business, Azula," Zuko snapped.

Azula let out a sigh that only an 8-year-old who thought they knew everything could.

"Maybe if you spent as much time as you do reading theator scrolls you would actually be good at something," Azula said.

"I'm good at stuff," Zuko protested. 

"Really like what?" Azula asked.

Zuko froze. He was good with the sword according to Master Piando but he couldn't say that. If he told Azula then it would make its way to their father and Father would be so mad.

"Sneaking around," Zuko finally shot back. 

It was true as growing up with Azula and Father had ensured that he knew how to not be seen or heard. 

"I bet you can't sneak into Dad's office," Azula said.

Zuko knew exactly what his sister was doing. She was setting him up so that he would get in big trouble with their father. None of them were allowed in that room. However, the 10-year-old's pride didn't allow him to back down.

"That's all? Easy," Zuko said. 

A wide smile of a predator appeared on Azula's face. He knew at that instance that he had played into her hand, but Zuko wouldn't take back the words. 

"Great then go do it," Azula said. 

"I will," Zuko shot back. The boy stormed off to go do it with his heart in his stomach.

~~~

Ozai did a quick scan of his office before he sat down at his desk. He could never be too careful as he planned how to usurp his brother while he was at Ba Sing Se.

Ozai then began to work on his plans and the actual work the Fire Lord had assigned him. 

It was towards sunset close to the time that they would eat dinner when he heard the noise. 

It sounded like a bang and a whimper. 

Ozai walked over to the cabinet (that he swore he looked at when he first arrived in his office) with a flame in his hand ready to burn whatever decided to sneak into his office. When he opened it he was met with a surprise.

Instead of some animal or small assassin, his oldest child looked at him with gold eyes wide in horror at being caught with his hand frozen on his elbow likely rubbing where he bumped it. 

Anger rose in Ozai. He had told his children that they weren't allowed to be in his office. Of course, his failure of a son wouldn't listen to direct orders. 

"How long have you been in here?" Ozai demanded. He hadn't heard the boy enter the room but he also couldn't have been in here before him.

Zuko flinched back as far as he could go.

"I don't know before you came in here," Zuko said.

"Liar," Ozai snarled. There was no way that the boy could have hidden from his search.

Zuko shrunk back.

"Honest, there is a small gap between the cabinets and the ceiling. After you sat down I hid in the cabinet in case you looked up," Zuko pleaded.

Ozai looked up at the mentioned gap and saw it. Ozai had dismissed it as a security threat as it was too small for an assassin to hide in and too high for a hole to be cut into to listen to him or see what he was doing. Clearly, he underestimated it like his son.

His son remained hidden for hours and likely hours more if he wasn't so clumsy. 

Zuko was an awful firebender. He wasn't in any way smart. He was brash, impulsive, and far too sensitive to really be worth anything, but perhaps his talents could lie elsewhere.

If Zuko was so silent and sneaky he would make a good assassin. It would be shameful if word got out but the boy could be just the tool he would need against Iroh. After all his brother and his nephew adored the boy and they likely wouldn't think twice about telling their secrets to him which would get back to Ozai.

Yes, this boy will actually be of use to him.

"Follow me," Ozai said.

Zuko shot his father a confused look. Ozai paid it no mind. He walked through the halls with his son following behind. 

Ozai then barged into the room that his wife was in. She seemed to be reading some scroll. She looked up in confusion and concern.

"Ozai..." Ursa began.

"You will teach him everything you know about poison," Ozai said. He left no room for arguments He left his wife and son staring after him in confusion.

~~~ Book 2: Earth Kingdom

Zuko knelt down in front of his father. 

"You wished to see me," Zuko said.

"Your uncle is a traitor," Fire Lord Ozai said.

Perhaps that should have surprised Zuko but it doesn't. He knew that his uncle didn't like the war anymore nor did he care for Ozai. Iroh had always attempted to get close to the siblings after he returned 1 year after the failed siege. Azula had never given the man the time of day. Zuko had once wanted to but between the amount of classes he was taking and the inability to talk about them, Zuko ended up pushing his uncle away. Then two years later Iroh agreed to search for the Avatar like his father before him and that was the last he had seen of the old man. 

"I want you to kill him and make it seem like it was the Earth Kingdom," Ozai continued.

Perhaps the order should have filled him with horror and pain, but it didn't. Zuko just felt numb. His uncle was like any other life he had taken just related to him and considering how little they knew about each other it might as well just be a stranger.

"It will be done, My Lord," Zuko said. 

Ozai waved his hand to dismiss his assassin son.

[defira85]

(And so) My heart became a void

Chapter 5

"Justice is not an act that can be undertaken in passion or anger," they said, directing their words to Kagha as much as to Rhyme. "Amongst my people, when a child makes a mistake - however grave - it is treated as an opportunity for growth and teaching. To condemn a child before they have the capacity to learn from their mistakes only engenders resentment, and risks further escalation of poor behaviour."

"A thief is a thief," Rhyme snarled. "She took what she wanted, and left others to deal with the consequences. Let her pay the price."

There was a sharp slither of steel as Carmela drew her sword. "If you touch that child-"

"G'lyck," Zhier muttered to themself. They threw their hands up, and a solid wall of air surrounded where they stood with Kagha and the child, buffeting everyone else back several steps. Several other druids in the room surged to their feet, hands going for sickles and staffs, but they held their hands up as if trying to hold them at bay. "Pa'vrylk! Weapons down, all of you!"

Inspired by Whumptober and Fictober prompt lists, this story covers a group of additional adventurers - including twin Dark Urges - who join my Tav through the course of the story. Chapters are extensively marked with trigger warnings for Whumptober

Read Chapter 5 here

[underratedbananawerewolf]

Fictober Day 7

Prompt 7: “Do you recognize this?” 

Fandom: Honkai Star Rail 

Rating: G 

Warning: None 

Yanqing hadn’t ever been in this storage room. Or at least he didn’t remember any time he had. No one had been for a while judging by the amount of dust that coated everything in here. He sneezed, placing his sleeve in front of his nose to help filter out anything he stirred up. He could feel the tickles of future sneezes and if he fell into that he’d never get this task done.  

When asking Jing Yuan about a scroll about ancient sword techniques, the man had directed him to this forgotten closet. Surely it couldn’t have been in here, could it? Although lost in the clutter of centuries, perhaps that was why those techniques weren’t used any longer. Or maybe Jing Yuan just needed to keep his retainer busy for a while.  

Searching through this mess with any sort of success would require that he organize it to some degree and, unfortunately, that would also require him to start cleaning up the dust. Hopefully without causing himself to go into an unstoppable sneezing fit.  

Ultimately, he never found the scroll he was looking for. He had pulled out practically everything, dusted and swept and then put things back into some semblance of order. Sweat had matted his hair down, his clothing streaked with grime. He looked like a right mess, and he ached to go bathe. There was one more box to go through and he had been taught not to let a task go unfished.  

With a sigh, he opened it to see what was inside. If it was junk he could set it aside for the next cycrane to take care of. If it were something else he’d have to see where it could go. Reaching in he pulled out a plush Diting, the fur on its face nearly worn away to reveal the mesh that held it together. Blinking, Yanqing stared at the toy. Something tickled the back of his memory, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.  

Setting the Diting aside, he reached again into the box. A few tattered Galaxy Ranger comic books, a soft pastel blue blanket and sheathed dagger with a bird carved into the hilt. All of them made him pause, staring at each of the objects. He knew he had seen them before and yet, he couldn’t say where he had seen them before.  

“Yanqing?” Jing Yuan’s voice came from just outside the door.  

“Here, General.”  

The man walked around the corner to look into the reasonably neat closet. “Very good, Yanqing.” He commented. “I didn’t intend for you to clean the entire room however.”  

“It was the only way I was going to ever find anything.” Yanqing answered, his eyes still on the objects. “General, do you recognize any of these?” He indicated the items spread before him as he raised his gaze to look at him. Inexplicably the smile that was almost always present faltered on Jing Yuan’s face. “What is it?”  

The man sighed and folded his arms. “They are yours, Yanqing.” He stated quietly. “The Diting was the only toy you would keep with you for months.” Yanqing’s cheeks flushed a pale pink, but his commander ignored it. “The comic books belonged to your father. There’s more of them somewhere around here. He was an avid reader, I’m told.”  

“And the knife?”  

“Your mother’s.” 

The boy glanced down at the items again before carefully placing them back in the box and then on an empty space on the shelf. The action made Jing Yuan raise an eyebrow. “you’re not going to take any of them with you?”  

“Not...yet. I want to think about it first.”  

“Understandable.” Jing Yuan raised a hand to clasp his retainer���s shoulder. “They’ll be waiting for you whenever they’re ready.”  

A small smile hovered over Yanqing’s lips as he looked up again. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.” 

[polizwrites]

PoliZ's WIP Update - 24 Jan 2024

Had a nicely productive writing week - I touched  6 fics (3 new works & 3 WIPs)  for a total of  2595  words - on track to break 10k for the month!  

On Ao3, I posted: 

 Chapter Three of   Half of the Flesh and Blood That Makes Me Whole  -  Post CA:CW  Stucky wingfic remix 

A (Not So) Misplaced Gift -  Bucky & Steve ficlet with a magic twist.  

Two of Swords, Ten of Wands -  No Powers!Tony/ Cap!Steve in a fated  meet-cute.

On Tumblr I posted: 

  Feline Fight and Flight  - a Flash Fic Friday fill with Steve & Tony rescuing a stray cat  

I carried over 16 semi-active WIPs into the new year 😬 with my  current  deadlines being the Bucky Barnes Bingo which now wraps on 31 Jan and the Tony Stark Bingo & Stony AU Bingo which both wrap in mid-February.    

See  below cut for what I’m working on/planning to work on - arranged more or less by bingos/challenges/etc.  As always, feel free to send me   prompts or plot bunnies as well as asks regarding  any of these projects  or any other WIPs I’ve got out there.   Interaction really helps feed the Muse and keep me motivated!

Bucky Barnes Bingo  - [BBB_R5]   (Ends 10 31 Jan 2024)

I’ve got  twenty-six fills  and six bingos, with  one WIP - thanks to the extended deadline, I’m getting an assisted blackout! 

* C2 - Yelena Belova–   The plan was to use this prompt in the next chapter of Peresmešnik,  (aka Three Avengers and a Baby), which is I poked at a little recently and is currently sitting at 1551  words (800-ish of which are mine). I’m thinking this will get carried over to the next round at this point.

* C5 - Marriage of Convenience/Pretend Couple - Combined with a Flash Fiction Friday prompt  [#FFF234 How It Ends] to write  A Mission In Prague - a Red Room-era BuckyNat ficlet where she and the Soldier are pretending to be a couple in love at a Christmas market.  I tinkered with it some more and it’s coming in at 478 words.  The new version will get posted to Ao3 before the event ends.

* K2 - Humor - see TSB  KINK: Cock-blocking 'bots  below. 

* K3 - Magic -  Wrote up A (Not So) Misplaced Gift as a crossover with the Flash Fiction Friday prompt   [#FFF232 Among Any Option]. It came in at 301 words and will  post to Ao3 before this event ends.

Tony Stark Bingo Round 7  - [TSB_R7]   (ends 15 Feb)

Twenty-five  fills and two WIPs as of the moment  - getting an assisted blackout, thanks to a couple of adopted squares! 

* T2 - KINK: Cock-blocking 'bots -  Thanks to a recent Flash Fiction Friday prompt,  [#FFF233 Imperfect Sign]  I finally sat down and wrote up the idea I’d been playing around with to  combine this with  the  Fictober Day 27: prompt   "I don't know if they will accept this."   I threw in my BBB - Humor prompt as well and ended up with  Competing for His Affections  - ‘bot shenanigans based on Tony & Bucky’s new romance.  It came in at 537 words and will be posted to Ao3 before the Bucky Barnes Bingo is over. 

* A1 - “Where are you?" –  Filled this with  Two of Swords, Ten of Wands. This ficlet - which also fills the  Stony JAnUary Week Four prompt: Supernatural  and my SAUB Fluff prompt – features a non-Iron Man psychic!Tony getting together with Cap!Steve courtesy of a bit of fortune telling. It came in at 622 words and posted this morning.

* A2 - KINK: Concubine -  Working on  The Sultan’s Gifts basically an extended PWP scene with Dom!Tony/ sub!Steve/ sub!Bucky.  Chapter One  - which will fill the TSB Jan Adoptable: Caning as well as my  SAUB Pre-Serum Steve Rogers + SRB Crops/Floggers/Whips  squares is coming in at  946 words and will post on Friday.   Chapter Two, which technically fills this square and my  SAUB Gentle Dom  and SRB Multiple Submissives squares is sitting at 483 words  words.  

* R5 - Doppelganger/Evil Twins -   The Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF214 Broken Mirror] got me at least a good start on the idea I’ve been playing with for this square. I posted NamNori on Tumblr and have a general idea of how I want to build on it to also fill my SAUB AU: Crack square. It’s currently sitting at 360 words and I need to stretch it to at least 600 words to fill both squares.   

* K5 - AU: Anime - I had Vague Ideas of doing a “Battle of the Planets” (my first anime and a childhood favorite)  fusion, with Tony as Princess, Steve as Mark and Bucky as Jason - but wasn’t sure who to put in as  Tiny (Happy? Thor?) or  Keyop (Vision?) -  JARVIS would have been their 7-Zark- 7 of course….  if I have time/spoons/inspiration - I may do something with this.   

* Jan Adoptable: Caning - see TSB KINK: Concubine

Stony AUniverse Bingo  [SAUB_R1] (ends 15 Feb)

Another brand-new bingo I’m helping co-mod!   I’m up to twelve  fills, four  WIPs and several  crossover ideas in play.  Not sure I’m going to get a blackout - but I’ll do my best!  

* S1 - Edging - Filled this with Ringing in the New, where Tony makes a suggestion to improve/change up their love life. It’s a crossover with a Flash Fiction Friday prompt: How Do You Use ‘It’? and came in at 324 words - I will post it to Ao3 before the event is over.

* S2 - AU: Crack - see TSB   Doppelganger/Evil Twins

* S3 - AU: Wings -  think I need to pivot on this - maybe I’ll be self-indulgent and do a second remix of some part of Take What Was Wrong (And Make it Right) from Steve’s POV - since  the first remix  is Bucky POV (and therefore tricky to make Stony-focused) 

* S5 - Accidental Baby Acquisition - see BBB Yelena Belova  - this may have to come off the table/pivot to something else.  

* T1 - AU: Fantasy -  CoffeeOwl shared a really cool dragon!Steve/indebted!Tony prompt in the ACB Discord server that I may be playing with for this.

* T2 - Adopting a Cat - combined this with last week’s  Flash Fiction Friday prompt  [#FFF236 Fight or Flight]  for  Feline Fight and Flight  - which will probably get a better title before I post it to Ao3.😁 This No Powers established Stony ficlet - where Tony’s rescuing a stray cat and Steve helps out -  came in at  390 words.  

* T4 - AU: Canon Divergence - I may write a follow up on Setting Aside the Shield   to fill this square. 

* O2 - Omegaverse - I have a Vague Idea inspired by  @kandisheek’s lovely art piece.  

* O3 - FREE - used this in combination with a previous  Flash Fiction Friday prompt:   [#FFF235 Little Pink Houses]  to come up with  Those Old Crazy Dreams (Just Kind of Came and Went) which was posted to Tumblr and came in at 461 words.  I may tweak it a bit before posting to Ao3 before this event is over.   

* O4 - Fluff - see  TSB  “Where are you?” prompt 

* N2 - Mutual Pining - crossover with CABB Royal Knight?

* N3 - Gentle Dom - see TSB KINK: Concubine above

* N5 - AU: Multiple Identities - Posted  The Secrets We Keep  to Tumblr.  It’s a first person alternating POV ficlet with mutual pining (and secret identity) Stony.   It came in at 314 words and will get posted to Ao3 before the event ends. 

Y1 - Pre-Serum Steve Rogers - see TSB KINK: Concubine above

* Y4 - AU: Soulmates  -  see TSB  FREE square   

Captain (America) Bottom Bingo - Round 2 [CABB] (ends 28 Feb 2024)

I signed up for a 3x3 card for this bingo and have six fills, two WIPs and a couple of crossover ideas.

* B3 - Royal Knight - see SAUB Mutual Pining.

Post July Break Bingo  [JBB_23p] (Ends Apr 2024)

One fill on my  2x3 non-fandom-specific card - still working on  potential crossovers.

* A1 - “It’s you. It’s always been you.” - This might fit in with my TSB Doppelgangers/Evil Twins fill NamNori above :: ponders::

* B2 - Character’s personality is split into two different beings – I’ve never played with Bucky & the Soldier being two different people, but this seems like the perfect opportunity! Will see what might be a good crossover on one of my open cards.

*  C1 - Touch Starved – another good fit for a Bucky-centric fic. (Steve or Tony or Clint).

Steve Rogers Bingo - Round 3 [SRB_R3] (ends  15 Jun 2024)

Five  fills  - need to ponder possible crossovers, especially with SAUB, & CABB.  

* C5 - Exes to Lovers  - crossover with  CABB - "B1 - "All I wanted was for you to be happy."  – Bucky or Tony as the Ex?   SAUB S4 - Arranged Marriage  might be an additional crossover  

* D1 - Multiple Submissives -  see  TSB  KINK: Concubine

* D5 - Crops/Floggers/Whips  - see TSB KINK: Concubine (multi-chapter) 

* E4 - Tower Fic  - Posted Chapter 3 of  Half of the Flesh and Blood That Makes Me Whole  on Friday. It’s a post CA:WS Stucky wingfic that’s a remix of Take What Was Wrong (And Make It Right).  It came in at 1379 words.   

Bucky Barnes Connect Four - Alt Jun-iverse [BBC4_R2]  {Ends June 2024}

The good folks over at @buckybarnesevents  have opened this event up early!  You sign up for a single row card of four squares and the challenge is to see if you can combine any/all into a single Bucky-centric AU fanwork - although you can also create 2-4 separate fanworks if you want.  

The combo of prompts on my first card [Reality Show,  Omegaverse, Talent/Manager, Royalty] sparked an idea that I’m about 230 words + misc notes into already -  Alpha!Bucky as a technical prince   who gets talked into joining a reality show that is supposed to match him up with an omega… but there’s a twist!   I’m torn between striking while the iron is hot vs spending time on the fics that have a looming deadline…  🙃

Hawkeyes Bingo [HB_R2] {Ends TBD] 

Just signed up for this fun Tumblr event - got a 3x3 card and want to swap out one square, but otherwise am looking forward to creating more  Clint-centric content and trying my hand at a bit of  Kate Bishop fic as well!    

*A1 - Werewolf AU -  possible inspiration to continue A Hairy Situation? 

* A3 - Awkward Flirting – this might be a good entry into my first femslash fic with Kate/Yelena?    

Build-A-Bucky Bingo [BaBB_R1] {Ends Oct 2024}

Another fun year-long  event from the folks at  @buckybarnesevents!  Each month there’s a list of prompts and you choose (at least) one  each month for your card!

* November:  Crackfic - DONE  

* December: Wingman  - DONE

* January: Wingfic  -see SRB Tower Fic

May also throw the Polyamory prompt into  A Sultan’s Gift  (see TSB KINK: Concubine)

Warm and Fluffy   Bingo  - [WFB]   (no end date)

Four  fills on my card, courtesy of   @warmandfluffybingocards  - need to try for another crossover or two! 

————

On  other creative fronts:  I am working on a  Superman Stuffed With Character figure for the Hall of Heroes con in early March;  still have one figure to go for one of my Marvel Trumps Hate  auction winners:  Captain Rambeau aka Photon. 

If  you’re looking for one of a kind gifts for birthdays or other celebrations, check  out Stuffed With Character    over on Facebook for a full list of my designs (now over 150!).   These soft stuffed figures are  mostly Marvel and monsters, but I have some Star Wars, Star Trek, DC   and Disney figures as well. Plus I love to take custom design   requests  for any fandom!

[broken-mirrors-binding-magic]

FicTober: Day 2

Prompt #2: "Don't worry, I got you." Original Fiction: Broken Mirrors Series Rating:  T Warnings: Implied suicide attempt

Characters:  Alice Sweeney, Kazimir Barkov, Gilbert Lehmann Ships: N/A

“Hey! Are you alright?!”

Kazimir startled awake as he felt soft hands shake his shoulders, he quickly leaned away from them, reaching his own shaky arm to shove the hands off of him.

“Oh, hey, it’s ok. You’re badly hurt, are you able to walk?”

He quickly pulled himself back away from the calm voice, “What do you want?”

His vision was gone, when he tried to open his eyes nothing changed in the darkness before him.

“My name is Alice, can you stand? I want to help. My home is close, I can get you healed up.”

He didn’t want her help, “I don’t need help.”

He stood on shaky legs before starting to fall only to feel the girl under his arm as she supported him, “Don’t worry, I got you. Let’s get you healed.”

He tried to pull away from her, but quickly found he couldn’t in his weakened state as her grip tightened, “Why are you helping me?”

He relented, stumbling along without fighting her as he felt her pull him along, “Well, I saw you when I was passing by and you looked like you needed a hand.”

“I didn’t want help. I wanted to be left.”

He felt her stiffen under him, “Then you need more than a hand.”

He followed her lead until he began to smell lavender and bread, “Where are we?”

“Sweeney castle, I’m bringing you through the kitchen. I don’t want my parents to think there’s a battle or something, plus I snuck out while Gil was polishing his sword so I don’t want to run into him yet. He always gets mad when I sneak out.”

He lifted his head toward her, “Sweeney castle? Sneaking out? Wait, you can’t b-”

He felt her giggle before he heard it, “Princess Alice, yes. Now let’s get you to Kikuma, he can get you bandaged up.”

Kazimir couldn’t help the confusion filling him, “What do you gain from helping me?”

He felt her small frame shrug, “Well, I wasn’t really thinking about that… But I guess I gain a new friend.”

“Alice! There you are! Wait why are you covered in blood?! Who is that?!”

Kazimir flinched at the sudden loud voice booming in front of them.

“Relax Gil. I don’t know his name yet, and the blood is his. He was injured by the castle and I wanted to get him help.”

Kazimir felt her grip on him tighten, likely trying to tell him to go along with her omission of how she found him.

“Kazimir. My name is Kazimir.”

He could feel the smile in her voice, “Well Gil, this is Kazimir! Now, help me get him into my room before one of your brothers sees us and runs to tell Dad. Oh, and then I need you to get Kikuma.”

Kazimir listened to the long sigh from Gilbert before he felt his other arm get lifted over strong shoulders.

“Fine, but if we get caught, you owe me a new sword.”

[siverwrites]

Fictober Day 5

Kind of prompted by Whumptober "It's broken."

Jowd woke on the sofa and simply lingered in the fuzzy space before fully waking, letting memory catch up. Staying asleep may have been better as he cracked his eyes open to the dim room and the memory of their encounter with—what had Kamila called it? A dinosaur—sunk in. Alma’s head was still a weight against his shoulder. Cabanela still slept pillowed in her lap.

Jowd leaned his head back over the cushions. That was good; they needed the rest. Despite himself, his gaze drifted down to Cabanela and the vision of his shattered sword drifted across his mind's eye. How close would they come to Cabanela joining it? How close had they already come? 

Cabanela under his own hands... Cabanela at his feet seemingly dead after Doomgaze's attack... Cabanela slumping onto the ground drained of magic and again into Alma...

When might Cabanela shatter as his sword had done? How cracked was he already under his shiny veneer?

Slowly, ever so cautiously, he ran a gentle hand through Cabanela's hair. He traced a finger over the grey threading through it. 

They couldn't lose him. There was little he was certain of these days, not least where he stood, but this much was a certainty. It had to be. If all else crumbled, he had to remain. 

Cabanela stirred. Jowd’s mouth dried and he waited in frozen silence…and relaxed again as Cabanela only shifted position and remained asleep.  And, he, Jowd needed to find his footing. He eyed Alma. And one first step perhaps lay in their treasury, more than a sword: a symbol. Their trust. When Alma woke, they had a meeting with Memry and a detour to discuss.

[ramblinganthropologist]

Fictober 24 14 - Did you stick to the plan

Summary: Varric didn't plan on getting kidnapped that night. Lucky for him, his captors didn't plan on getting their shit rocked by the Hawkes. With friends like those, he'll be just fine.

---

If they thought this was going to end well, well… they were out of their minds.

Varric’s wrists ached from the ropes tied around them, but there wasn’t much he could do. The mercs had tied him up pretty damn well, keeping him from reaching anything he could’ve used to free himself. Right then he was on his side – they had none too gently thrown him back there upon getting back to base.

Honestly, it was a little embarrassing to get kidnapped like that, but… well, even experts tended to be caught with their pants down.

He wasn’t sure who had come up with the plan – certainly not his editor. Given his other line of work, the list was long. Narrowing it down to judge one was too troublesome, so he gave up on it in favor of watching the door.

There weren’t too many of them in the small house set by the docks. He counted three, maybe four armed mercs. They probably had one more at the door, maybe a few more around the area to catch any would-be rescuers off guard. It was a small operation, and their gear wasn’t the greatest. They weren’t affiliated with anyone big, but they weren’t mercs just bought off the streets for a little bit of coin.

Small time mercs hoping to make it big could be downright annoying.

One of them, he assumed the boss, entered the room. He had a glint in his eyes and a sword in his hand, honed to a razor sharp point. Varric watched as he approached, crouching to his level so they could meet eye to eye.

He stunk like rotten fish and stale ale.

“So, you thought you could make a fool of us like that, did you, dwarf?”

Varric’s eyebrow cocked. “I can’t say I know what this is about.”

The man laughed, but there was nothing funny about it. “Don’t play stupid. I know we were the ones you based the Blue Stars on in your latest issue of Hard in Hightown. Who else could it have been?”

…

He had to think back to that one. Given he wrote ahead a chapter or two to satiate his editor, the details were a little vague. Sure, there was a gang that Guardsman Donnen had taken out, but he didn’t remember if their names were the Blue Stars.

It was a shitty name, not one of his. Maybe his editor had changed it..

“Well?”

Varric would’ve shrugged, but his arms were tied behind his back. “It’s a work of fiction. I cobbled together a lot of stock traits to make them.”

Sure, authors wrote from their lives, but he would’ve remembered if he had actually taken anyone real for his stories. Named characters, sure, some of them were based off people he knew or events he had lived through. The rank and file antagonists for the Guardsman to take out or throw in jail were a different story. He saw enough low level mercs to figure out how to write them to some degree.

It was easy – stupid, poorly armed, and way too cocky.

“You can’t lie your way out of this one, dwarf. We’ve been a laughingstock ever since the issue came out!” The sword came out and cut through the ropes. Then the man grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him to his feet, dragging him over to a nearby table. “So, we’re going to start this nice and slow. I’ll be taking your writing hand and work from there.”

Varric grit his teeth as he tried to pull away, but the man was too strong for him. Soon his hand was positioned over the table as the man raised his sword. All he could do was watch as the blade hovered ahead, ready to swing down.

And then something exploded outside.

“What the-“ The boss looked towards the door. “Bane, what’s going on?”

A terrified looking man all but ran through, clutching a spear in shaky hands. “Boss, it’s the Hawkes! They found us!”

His heroes. Took them long enough.

The words made his captor grit his teeth and let him go – he fell back. “How? Did you follow the plan to get them off our tails?”

Like that would’ve worked. Varric knew the Hawkes better than anyone, and they were the stubborn sort. Also, they had spent way too much time in the underbelly of Kirkwall, sniffing their way through the worst of it to get the job done. Even if his captors had truly covered their tracks, it wasn’t enough.

They had ways of making people talk, ones that were a little too explicit for his editor to allow in his book.

“I swear we did! They must’ve gotten to the guys at the dock!” Bane looked ready to piss himself, all wide eyes and wild fingers. “If they break through Crusher, they’re gonna make it in here!”

Varric resisted the urge to grin as he made his way to a sitting position, rubbing his wrists – he was going to have red marks there for sure in the morning. “Better make that a ‘when’ because they sound annoyed.”

There was nothing like an annoyed blood mage and reaver to really make a merc regret his life choices. If they had their dogs with them, then it was just a party.

All in all, he wasn’t surprised when the door all but swung off its hinges as it got kicked in. A wall of muscles hit the ground hard, either dead or concussed. That had to be Crusher – it’s what he would’ve called the man if he was writing a character based on him. Either way, so much for their last line of defense.

“Man, this was supposed to be my fucking night off. You couldn’t have kidnapped him some other night?”

A rough, Ferelden-accented voice sounded from the door. Varric really did grin that time as he watched a small figure step over Crusher and make their way into the room. Avery Hawke cracked her neck as she walked – someone must not have slept well.

Not that she ever slept well. The downside of being a reaver meant her sleep schedule was shot to hell. It made her downright mean when she wasn’t in a good mood.

“We didn’t have to come together. I had this.” A deep voice followed as a shadow stretched across the floor. Moses Hawke had to duck in order to get through the door, but it was only a mild one. In human-made dwellings, he had a little trouble.

He didn’t even try with dwarf-made buildings. Varric didn’t blame him for that. He was nearly seven feet tall after all.

Avery flashed one of her famous smirks as she shrugged. “What, they kidnapped our best friend. A girl can’t take that kind of thing lying down, it’s bad for the rep. Next time they might try to take Merrill.”

“That would be their mistake.” Moses was level-toned as always, but Varric had been around him long enough to know he was amused. He had to agree – anyone who was dumb enough to try and kidnap Daisy was asking for trouble. After all, she was trained in all kinds of wild Dalish magic. Even if a merc was used to the regular stuff, she’d knock them on their ass.

Not that he was a pushover, but… well, sometimes he got too into his head when he was working.

But he was getting ahead of himself. Now that the Hawkes were here, things were going to get messy. They weren’t known for being neat fighters, given the blood magic and biting thing. He could only hope they wouldn’t paint the walls with blood by the time they were done – it smelled terrible and was a pain to clean up.

Then again, he wouldn’t be the one doing the cleaning.

The boss grit his teeth as he approached, blocking Varric’s means of escape. “This is none of your business, Hawke.”

“Thought I’d see you again, Wave.” Avery didn’t sound too impressed as she cracked her knuckles. “I’m surprised you found another group to lead to their deaths, though. Figured you would’ve learned from a couple years ago. Guess I didn’t hit you hard enough.”

Moses shook his head. “How many people did you leave alive when you were running with Athenril?”

“Hey, she wasn’t big on killing people, what can I say I was just working with the boss on that one. We all make mistakes when we’re new to a city.”

Perhaps Varric should have been surprised that his captor had ties to the Hawkes’ past, but Kirkwall was an interconnected city. Someone working with a smuggler probably had plenty of run-ins with the underbelly of the city. No doubt this wouldn’t be the last time this would happen, though he had to hope it wouldn’t come with more kidnapping.

Safe to say, he wasn’t a fan.

Wave grit his teeth as he raised his sword. “I’m going to make you regret walking through that door. You got away the last time, but I won’t go easy this time.”

Avery responded with a spectacular eye roll. “Your guys are dead or concussed, dumbass. You really think you can take us on two-on-two?”

“Better make it two-on-one, the other guy got away.” Moses raised his staff, the end glittering with energy. “Not great odds either way.”

Varric had missed when the door man had gotten away, but good for him. Anyone with a brain would run when faced with the Hawkes in close quarters. Hell, even when they were out in the open it was a bad idea.

He just wished he had Bianca then. One shot to the back would’ve ended things and he could get back to the Hanged Man.

Unsurprisingly, Wave took a half step back. “I can take you on… you’re only human!”

“Eh, you’re half right there.” Avery shrugged.

“Wouldn’t it be closer to 75% right?”

“Fuck if I know, math isn’t my thing.”

It was a classic Hawke moment, one he would save for later if he ever got around to writing something about them. They could be downright comical when they didn’t give a shit about the fight in front of them. Then again, they did the same thing when the fight was serious. Maybe it was just their default mode.

Either way, it pissed their opponents off and made them sloppy.

It worked like a charm – Wave’s knuckles tightened around his blade. “Fuck you both, I’m gonna enjoy tossing your corpses into the sea for the fish!”

Then he struck, swinging forward wildly. Avery’s shield took the blow and the sound of metal on metal rung out through the room. Moses’ staff swung over her head a few seconds later, aimed straight for the man’s shoulder. Varric winced as the sound of cracking bone was followed by Wave’s scream as he dropped to the floor, holding his clearly broken shoulder.

This was going to be a quick one. Poor bastard never stood a chance.

“If I remember right, this is how it ended the last time.” Avery approached him, sword glinting in the torchlight. “Athenril called me off, but she’s not here is she?”

Wave’s back was against the wall and he was shaking. “D-don’t… please.”

“Guess he was all talk.” Moses still had his staff out and the end was sparking red – Varric knew that spell well and it wasn’t a fun one. “I really don’t appreciate getting pulled from my work for this.”

The only question was who was going to strike first. Avery was closer and her range was shorter, so she had a good chance to paint the walls with his blood. However, Moses had the range effect, so even if he was further away his spells could hit faster. Again, blood would get spattered on the wall. It was going to be messy no matter what, it just came down to if he was going to die from a cut or a blast.

In the end, Avery sighed. “On three then?”

“You’re too soft.” Moses nodded though. “On three it is.”

Naturally, there was no counting – that was just something they said to put their opponent off guard. Instead, the twin fists came almost instantly, slamming hard into Wave’s nose and stomach at the same time. The man gasped, then slumped to the floor with blood dripping from his broken nose. He was still breathing, though.

Guess they wouldn’t paint the walls with blood after all.

Avery approached, holding out her hand to him. “You ok, Varric?”

He used his hand to pull himself to his feet, wrists still twinging a bit. “Apart from some rope burn, I’m fine. Thanks for the rescue.”

“Next time, bring Bianca when you’re kidnapped.” Moses didn’t even grunt as he picked up the man like a sack of flour. “What are we doing with this one? Dropping him off with Aveline?”

“You know she isn’t going to pay us for the bounty if this guy has one.” His partner sighed, shaking her head. “Yeah, I guess. With any luck his shoulder won’t set right and we won’t have to worry about him.”

Out the door they went, stepping over Crusher in the process. Outside, it was messy. There was at least one dead merc on the ground in a pool of his own blood, staring up with unseeing eyes. It was hard to tell who had kill him, and Varric wasn’t going to guess. He seemed to be the only one, given the blood stains showed some others had run away when they came to and realized they were still alive.

If they had sense in their heads, they’d find another line of work.

“Ugh, I’m so tired.” Avery yawned, exposing her reaver fangs. “That was a pain in the ass.”

Moses adjusted the man he was all but dragging with him. “That’s what you get for not killing him the first time.”

“Hey, I wasn’t a free agent then. You weren’t exactly killing him back then either.”

Varric followed behind them, making notes for that eventual book. Getting dialogue right was hard when it came to the Hawkes, especially when they were talking to each other. There was just something about them that was hard to capture – maybe it was the fact they were absolutely batshit when they combined forces?

Then again, they were batshit on their own…

“You owe us a drink, Varric.” Moses stopped moving for a moment to glance back at him. “Preferably not tonight.”

Avery nodded, hands behind her head like always. “Yeah, I’m beat. Once we turn this guy in, I’m heading to bed. We’ll catch you later for that drink.”

All he could do was shake his head and grin. “Sounds fair to me. Come by the Hanged Man tomorrow evening.”

He owed them a drink for the rescue – and for the material they would one day provide him. But for then, he was just glad to have both his hands as they made their way back to Lowtown. It wasn’t as if he had been worried, but even the threat hadn’t been pleasant.

Maybe he needed to keep a knife on him like they did. If this was going to become a regular thing, he needed one.

But that was for another day as the moon rose high over Kirkwall, casting shadows on the ground as the Hawkes carried their bounty to the waiting guardsmen for nothing but a dirty look and a pointed finger for where to toss him. In the morning, someone would find the bodies and there would be questions but nothing serious. Life would just keep going as it always did. That was how the city worked after all – life kept going.

It was why it was so good for his writing. Though, he could do without becoming the subject of a kidnapping. Maybe he should consider adding a note that everything in his book was fictional and any relations to real-life people was a coincidence…

Eh, that was too wordy. He’d work on it later.

[sunofsnek]

#Fictober 24 - Day 6: "I am not giving up"

Bye fluff, we are getting into action. Aryaxes when he is actually fighting.

The whistling of arrows being shot just past his ears was deafening, but he pushed on. Aryaxes raised his shield in front of him, trying to block any projectiles until he was close enough. He would end this, no matter what.

This should have been easy, but that is what they always say, right? The miners in the West complained about a goblin problem they could not solve themselves. Aryaxes read the letter again and again as they traveled to this town, not sure what to expect. Every farmhand was usually able to kill a goblin, since they weren’t strong or resilient, only really dangerous in packs. But in a mine? Depending on the construction they could just smoke them out. But the letter clearly stated, that for some reason the goblins seemed to be fueled by an unnatural force, and that was when one of the clerics asked Aryaxes to join them investigating. After their arrival and a quick talk with the foreman, they decided to head in, accompanied by a handful of miners who were brave enough to follow in. Deeper and deeper they walked down the narrow mine shafts, making Aryaxes almost claustrophobic, but they didn’t encounter more than a few goblins here and there they easily took care off. For a moment Aryaxes was sure the problem wasn’t as big as they had told them, but the confusion in the faces of the miners told him, that this was not what they have seen. For a moment, he closed his eyes, focusing his perception outside of him and right there at the corner of his mind he sensed something, something undead. This was not a good sign, but they would see soon enough what was behind it.

They walked deeper into the mountain, deeper than the miners had gone for a long time and suddenly a big room opened up in front of them, the stench of the undead overwhelming. Aryaxes looked up and saw it. An undead mage using some green rays on the goblins to shroud them in a green glow, but before Aryaxes could say something, or could react, the goblins charged. He raised his sword and shield, before he looked at the cleric.

“Keep them alive, I will destroy this monstrosity. The miners need your attention more than I do.” The cleric nodded reluctantly, grabbing his holy symbol and muttering a prayer to Helm. 

The whistling of arrows being shot just past his ears was deafening, but he pushed on. Aryaxes raised his shield in front of him, trying to block any projectiles until he was close enough. He would end this, no matter what. He knew that whatever spell was making the goblins stronger, it would not stop until the source was defeated. Until the undead was slain, and this was his sole duty to do.

Step by step he pushed forward, dodging arrows, attacks by the goblin’s short swords, and soon enough the spells of the undead mage, as he started to aim at him with firebolts and worse, making his shield creak. Just another step. Aryaxes muttering to himself, until his shield broke, and the fragments flew out of his hand, making him more vulnerable. The next firebolt hit his shoulder, making him yell in agony, but he would not yield. Not when he was still standing. With a silent prayer to Helm on his lips he charged. “I beg you Vigilant One, guide my sword. I will not give up until me or the monster have fallen.” Crackling energy surrounded Aryaxes’ sword, as he swung his long sword. The blade connected with the undead mage and the room was filled with the sound of thunder, deafeningly loud, strong enough to make something in front him burst. He was catapulted away against a stone wall, all the air forcefully pushed out of his lungs. He opened his eyes only to see the goblins loosing their green glow, before his conscience was shrouded in darkness.

[angelswing236]

"Give me that, before anything happens."

Fictober 2023

Category: Fanfiction

Fandom: Downton Abbey

Mrs Hughes could hear the commotion in the kitchen long before she saw it.

‘What do think you’re doing, Mr Molesley?’ came Mrs Patmore’s strident voice. ‘Have you taken leave of your senses?’

‘I have not! I am showing these good people, demononstrating if you will, Mrs Patermore, Mrs Matpore, Mrs Patmore, the proper way to de-cork a bottle of champagne,’ Mr Molesley replied with a certain level of inebriated yet dignified decorum. ‘You do it… with a sword!’

‘Aye, well, that’s all well and good, but that’s a bottle of ginger beer you’re holding, not champagne, and that’s one of my de-boning knives you’re waving about, not a sword!’ Mrs Patmore pointed out, all no-nonsense, long-suffering, unimpressed Yorkshire woman. ‘And the only thing you’re demonstrating is how to cut your hand off in one swift move, you silly man!’

Mrs Hughes descended the last step and paused for a moment, girding her loins to deal with this situation. With Mr Carson, Miss Swire and her ladyship all coming down with the Spanish flu tonight, this was the last thing she needed.

‘What in heaven’s name is going on in here?’ she asked in her best authoritative voice as she swept into the kitchen.

A gaggle of maids, footmen and hall boys stood giggling and smirking around the servants’ hall as Mr Molesley held court near the head of the table, a bottle of ginger beer in one hand, the de-boning knife in his other, the razor-sharp blade resting against the cork in the bottle.

His face lit up at the sight of her. ‘Mrs Hughes! Ah, now, you are a woman of the world! I know you’ve been around a fair bit -‘

‘I beg your pardon!’ Mrs Hughes barked, shooting a quelling glare at a tittering hall boy.

‘I mean that in an entirely respectabubble way, of course,’ Mr Molesley said anxiously, his face falling as he belatedly realised he may have inadvertently caused offence.

Mrs Hughes fixed him with a look and held out her hand. ‘Give me that knife, please. Now.’

‘He won’t listen,’ Thomas said, sitting on the other side of Molesley, calmly smoking a cigarette, tapping the ash off. ‘Me and Mrs Patmore have both tried to reason with him.’

‘He will if he knows what’s good for him,’ Mrs Hughes replied, ominously. ‘Mr Molesley, I really must insist.’

‘What I mean is you know about different customs; you’ll appreciate this,’ Mr Molesley continued, oblivious to the warning in Mrs Hughes’ voice.

‘Give me that, before anything happens,’ Mrs Hughes repeated, holding out her hand.

Instead, Mr Molesley addressed the room, ready to perform for his audience. ‘I am about to execute a trick of the high-hic-highest calibre! Behold the champagne and sword de-corking!’

With that, he slashed the knife quickly up the neck of the bottle, yelping and dropping the bottle as he succeeded only in slicing open the top of his middle finger.

Ginger beer foamed from the sturdy but cracked glass bottle as blood gushed from Mr Molesley’s finger, the two mixing together in an unholy reddish mess.

He stared at the blood as if puzzled by what it was and how it got there and then turned sheet white, his eyes rolling around towards the housekeeper.

‘Do you know, I don’t feel terribly well, Mrs Hughes,’ he mumbled, the knife tumbling from his hand as he closed his eyes and crumpled towards the floor, caught at the last minute by Thomas springing from his chair and Stephen, one of the taller hall boys.

Another hall boy gingerly picked up the bloodied de-boning knife and put it on the table as Mr Molesley lolled unconscious between Thomas and Stephen, bleeding everywhere.

‘I told him that knife were sharp,’ Mrs Patmore observed, coming up beside Mrs Hughes, looking at the tableau in front of her in disdain. ‘Is the doctor still here? Happen we’ll need him to bandage up D’Artagnan over there.’

Mrs Hughes sighed. ‘God save me from men who can’t hold their liquor and their ideas of grandeur.’

Next to her, Mrs Patmore snorted. ‘Like that will ever happen. Even the Almighty hasn’t got that kind of time on his hands.’

[gutsandsweets]

Fictober 2024

Prompt #1; "that was good work"

Characters: Trafalgar D. Water Law, Donquixote Rosinante/Corazon, Luffy, Ace, Heart Pirates

⚠︎ brief spoilers for Marineford in some places

Silence covered the room, each inch/crevice filled with dread. Accompanied with the sounds of faint voices and squeaking wheels, strained and vocal. He stood there, trapped within his own mind despite the surrounding commotion.

Today had been a loss for most even after all of the events that had tooken place.

Marine Ford had been an extensive battle, fights going on in every place you could look/search. It was rare to have seen someone not engaged in any form of combat, and they quickly did if they hadn't been. Screams and yells from everywhere. Swords clashing and guns and cannons being shot and fired.

While not the same, law could feel the slight connection between the two events- the sounds he could hear, at the least. Although the swords and such were replaced with the clanking and clinking of scalpels and other medical instruments, the yells were the exact same. It even seemed to be even louder and more enraged than before.

The sound came from one boy instead of the combined voices of both marine and pirates. The one and only Monkey D. Luffy. After his major loss in the war, he was nearing the edge, death almost taking it's toll. When he passed out, most thought it would've been for good. He had been put through so much stress, and the fiasco with his brother being struck straight through his heart certainly did not help with that.

The sound of a voice calling his name was finally what brought him back to his senses.

"Captain! We need you to act quick, he's starting to convulse and panic again!"

Shouted a familiar voice, most likely one of his crew members. Ah. That's right. He's supposed to perform surgery on the straw hat boy..

After he came back to his senses, Trafalgar began to make his way closer to the surgery scene. True to their words, the boy was having a panic attack of sorts while only being half awake and stable. The others were either attempting to hold him down to the table, while others could be seen running around for supplies or defending against the source of commotion. He had a panicked look to his eyes and shook in the hold of others and the table feverously and with great intensity. Few words could be understood, most being just jumbles of incoherent thoughts and abrupt yelps. Law could only really hear a repitition of 'no!', 'please, not my brother!' Among them.

As law begun his preparations, he couldn't help but think back to the now deceased 21 year old. While he had definitely not known him, ace was very well respected in laws books. He was an honorable man, courageous, kind and willing. Law knew briefly of the connections between him and others, and just how they had been affected by him. His crew mates and ordinary friends had all adored him for one reason or another.

The boy before him claimed to be the brother of this man, sharing similar features. But it could become quite obvious that they only shared some, like their hair and deep need for freedom in each of their own ways. The two had fought fiercely , both together and apart in the war before the climax of the war sometime After he was released from his shackles. A combination of fire & flames and rubber could truly be a force to be reckoned with indeed. Even with the great distance that had always been between them because of the sea, they stayed closer than ever. United through their hardships, following each other's lead. Standing in the presence of each other even from far apart.

The boy in front of him had long since stopped his intense struggles, instead fully passed out into a temporary sleep at the moment. When he had a collection of the right tools he knew from heart he would need, law began to quickly clear the area of the rest of his crew that was still there. They ushered out of the room after a few moments, leaving just law and a few of his closest members in the room surrounding Luffy. With the use of his devil fruit, law was sure that this surgery would come out in both his favor and the young boy. He began with the most deadly wounds, gashes, and deep cuts and spots of internal bleeding. His movements were paced, quick and efficient as he diligently worked through the task at hand. He knew he had a limited amount of time to complete this, and kept his hands steady as he used his abilities to remove a few internal organs to lower the risk of hitting or cutting them in any way.

"Room! Shambles."

In his hand he had previously held a dissolving pill of sorts, the next moment the lower intestine in its spot. He held it with his gloved hands, carefully lowering it to a safe space near him for future need. He used the empty space in the organs original place to his advantage, stitching any wounds in the spaces and near. When he had finished with the area, he repeated the same process to replace the organ into its spot and take another for more aid and healing. He begun to sew in a couple more stitches before placing that one into its place as well. He continued to move through the most obvious of the affected areas. Occasionally, he would find a minor cut and swiftly deal with it before moving back to the main things to be felt with.

Even with the others in the room, law swore he could feel a presence In the room asides from just them. It felt familiar in a way- too familiar. Though the sounds of his work was the only sounds in the room, the silence in the small space was louder than even that. He glanced around the room he could see without moving his head, eyes jumping from one place to the next. Nothing. Absolutely nothing, just the others. Was he going crazy? Sometimes he felt like he was, especially times like now. He did his best to ignore the dreadful feeling, continuing to work.

Little did he know just who was watching him. Miraculously, after his death, another man had been given the experience of being a ghost. Present in the world, but not fully existing in a way. Donquixote Rosinante, also known as Corazon to the people closest to him during his lifetime. He stood in his ghastly form just diagonal from law, watching as the boy worked. Even for a now dead man, he had one of the brightest smiles on his face. Still, after his death, law had continued on with life and pursued his dream just as cora knew he had wanted to. His sacrifice had definitely been worth it for the boy. Everything that he had done in benefit for Trafalgar D. Water Law had all been worth it all for him.

He layed his transparent hand upon law's shoulder, and the man shuddered. His own hands stopped in his work as he slowly looked to his shoulder, not quite knowing if he could actually see the faint outline of a skinny hand or if it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. The rest of the people and the room seemed to have noticed the stop in his progress, starting to wonder if they should speak up to their captain about it or not. His first mate, below spoke up before the others had the chance to.

"Captain? Is everything alright? It doesn't seem like Luffy is fully finished yet, and we're worried.."

" ..yes, it's all going well so far. I thought I had seen something in the corner of my eye, I suppose.. "

He responded with an anxious tone, still trying to asses what he thought to have seen.

That hand had looked way too similar to the hands of a man he used to know. The one that raised him after the tragic event and disease in his family. Could it be..? No. He's long dead, it couldn't have been him. Not out of all people, he had surely just been seeing things.

The hand had dissipated, retreating from his shoulder into a space that he himself couldn't see. Bepo clearly still was a bit worried at least, but stepped back away from the situation as he knew that he most likely wouldn't get a full answer, especially in this moment.

"Alright.. We're here to assist you in any way you need if you would like any help..!"

As law listened to the polar bear's response, he let out a small hum and a murmur of 'thank you, but I'll be fine with this surgery on my own for now..'. He did his best to get back to the surgery and stay focused on it instead of the mystery hand, still not fully able to forget about it. His mind was drifting back to the past- not good for this time.

Various times of law being drug around by Rosinante flashed in his mind. Him being held by him like a purse as Cora walked, Cora laughing along with him or even at him, Law being forced the Ope Ope no Mi in order to try and cure his disease he had had at the time, more, and eventually his death. He remembered that exact treasure chest he had been kept it. For his own safety, according to the tall, goofy blonde. Little had younger law known that that would be the very last time he had seen cora alive and well..

He shook his head abruptly, trying to shake the thoughts with it. While the thoughts didn't get through to him often, they could still affect him for the worse on an extra bad day. Everything that had happened ran through his mind all at once, and he found that he had a somewhat hard time even standing up right in this time.

The way that Donquixote Rosinante had died was beyond a simple tragedy. Who would let that happen? Who would do such a thing? Why would something like that happen?

The answer to all of those Bombarding questions was no one other than Donquixote Doflamingo, the brother of Rosinante. He had done it all himself with just a single shot to the head. He had told his brother himself the reason for all of his actions, the cause of Rosinante's death. He had been a marine in secret, keeping it all from the Doflamingo Family. The former man did not approve of his brothers actions at all, and the other words that he had been told in that moment was what propelled him to his ending course of actions. A loud bang echoed throughout the silence of the room- even though cora's abilities disabled law from hearing the gunshot, he knew just how it would've sounded if he had.

Even with all that law had witnessed and known to have happened, he was still somehow alive today. He kept on not only for his crew but corazon too. He was his mentor, the one who really raised and saved him. He made law a huge part of who he was today. He didn't deserve to have his life ended like that, shouldn't have died either way. Law felt himself growing increasingly more upset over the thoughts. It wasn't fair at all- not for either of them.

As he stared at the ground, it seemed to hold back a similar glare of its own. As if it was reflecting his look of despair and angered confusion.

He hoped that Cora was at least a little bit proud of who he was today. It had all been thanks to him that he was even still alive and talking to this day.

As he finished up the last of the surgery, he backed up a bit. The main gaping hole had been closed off, with the subject still laying on the table motionless. The same figure to his side still held a strong smile on his face, it continuing to grow even now. He was so, so very proud of his boy.

He played such an important role in the life of many, and helped people in so may ways just like he had said he'd do when he was younger.

Rosinante was more than just happy or moderately appeased by this. He was the happiest and most upbeat he felt like he had ever been. Cora knew that nobody else in the room could sense his presence as law could, and he was okay with that. As long as his kid could tell he was always there for him even in the most difficult of situations, then that was all he needed. His hands surrounded law's form once again, caring lingering touches to the top of his hair and shoulders as he did his best to contain his over welling emotions. He spoke as if the whole entire world could hear him, though he was aware that nobody could. He sniffled, tears of happiness threatening to fall from his blue eyes.

"I'm proud of you, law.. You've done good with your progress. I had nothing but the best of hopes that you would get to where you are today..!"

This was originally supposed to be significantly shorter, but I got trapped in the world of writing.. I hope there isn't too many spelling mistakes and thank you for reading if you for this far!˙︴

[fashionqu33nn]

Fictober 2019 RoS Prompts

I went ahead and came up with a few prompts if anyone wants to do RoS fictober. I know I will! Feel free to ask me questions about any of these!

1. Justice System (this includes police officers, criminals, CIA, FBI, etc.)

2. Mermaid (mermaid/mer shark etc.)

3. Supernatural

4. Game Show(s)

5. Food(s)

6. A picture is worth a thousand words. write 1,000 words about an Inktober prompt. (That one was written by Gummy_Dragon on the discord, I told you I'd steal it!)

7. Superheroes and Supervillains

8. Scout(s)

9. Anime (either if the RoS was an anime, or RoS in an anime au)

10. Sk8ter Boy Kodya

11. X man in the X (X-Men, X-Factor, etc. But it has to be about Xinju in something that starts with an x)

12. YouTubers

13. Any cursed au (either actual curses, or metaphorical curses such as child support au)

14. Pet Shelter

15. Rainy day

16. Cuddles

17. Sweets

18. Kindergarten

19. Ragan but... Nice???

20. Magic

21. Dungeons and Dragons Game

22. Movie(s)

23. Sksksksks oop my hydro nooo it had my scrunchies (or, someone is basic.)

24. College

25. Oh shoot my neighbor's really attractive?? (Alternatively, if there's no ships, my neighbor's terrifying but they turn out to be a nice person)

26. Lonely

27. Vampire(s)

28. Witch(es)

29. Monster Hunter(s)

30. You choose!

31. Halloween!!!

[english-professor-wraith]

Fictober 2022: Day 8

(TW for blood/gore, wounds, and death. Seriously. I know this is a romance fic, but be prepared. GN reader.)

Cold steel against your stomach, a blade slicing through skin and scraping against your rib as an enemy shoves his sword through your abdomen. The blade is pulled away, but the wound still feels cold for an instant. Warmth starts to flow across your skin, soaking your shirt with crimson as you look down at your body. It doesn’t hurt, somehow- but the world seems to quiet around you, like your head has just been shoved underwater, every sound muffled and echoing. Your fighting stance crumbles, the front knee losing strength first as you waver. It collapses inward, sending you to the ground, landing hard on your leg and hip before your head cracks against the stones and a ringing pain shears through your mind. 

With the pain comes darkness, the formerly-bright light swiftly tunnelling and then disappearing. The last things you know are a muffled shout for Pike, her warm hands on your face and stomach, and a murmured “Don’t you dare die now, I haven’t even told you- you’re unconscious right? I haven’t even told you I love you yet.”

You feel as though there should be something- a sound, a texture, even a temperature- but you can sense nothing. 

Nothing.

The faintest brush of something against your face, feather-light in the darkness. 

Nothingness again.

Nothing. 

A light? 

It���s faint, so faint that it could never have been seen anywhere but this complete darkness. Somehow, though, it’s there, shimmering golden and warm in the shadows. You reach for it, and it grows. You stretch your arm out as far as you can, straining towards it. The light grows, turning almost blinding. The warmth surrounds you, the sensation irresistible after so much nothingness. It wraps tightly around you, almost to the point of burning but you feel no pain in it. A message comes to your mind, not words precisely but a feeling of trust and encouragement, comfort flooding your mind just before pain courses through you, searing any memory of this experience from your mind. 

You groan heavily, a guttural sound almost torn from your throat at the pain. A chorus of gasps come from around you, and a slight bit of light creeps through as you crack open your eyelids. A small hand grasps your own, and the grip shifts slightly as Pike stands to look closely at your face. 

“Hey- hey, you in there?”

You try to respond, but the only thing that can manage to get through your throat is a strained gasp. Luckily, Pike knows enough to take this as a ‘yes’, and her other hand moves to her holy symbol and warmth- familiar, though you aren’t certain why- washes over you, carrying with it relief from the pain. 

“Gods, dying hurts.” You slowly sit up as you say this, trying to stretch all your stiffened limbs as your joints pop loudly. You look around at the group, grinning cockily at Percy, Scanlan, Vax, and Grog before smiling more kindly at Keyleth, whose face is still covered in tears, and Vex, who sits hugging her. “Thanks for getting me back, everyone. I’m okay- I just need a minute here. Meet you all back at the keep?”

They all nod and begin to stand to leave. Pike moves towards the door, pulling her hand from yours, but you grasp it a little tighter before she can step entirely away. Murmuring just quietly enough for her to hear, you ask her to stay, and she nods fractionally. The room empties around the two of you, until it is silent save for your breathing, still a little rough from the weight of your own ribs. 

“Pike.”

You shift until the two of you are eye to eye, taking her other hand in yours and looking closely at her face. 

“Thank you, Pike. You do so much for all of us and sometimes it feels as though we don’t do nearly enough for you in return.” 

You cut her off as she starts to protest, squeezing her hands lightly as you do. 

“That’s a conversation for another time and place. As for now- well, as for now, I’ve got something I’ve been meaning to tell you but, well- there was a bit of a holdup. Pike- I love you, too.”

She gasps, just a little, and blushes as she looks away from you. 

“You remember?”

With a chuckle, you reply. “I’m glad I do, so that I can keep that memory forever.”

“I thought you were unconscious- I didn’t think I was ready to say it to you for real yet.”

“I know. I’m glad I wasn’t.”

You squeeze her hands again, then lean forward to rest your forehead against hers. “We should probably get back to the keep before they start worrying about us.”

With a small smile, she nods and pulls back to help you from the table they had laid you on. Your legs are still a little weak, so you lean against Pike as the two of you head back to rejoin your little found family.