Firepaw's warrior ceremony is fast approaching, but Nightstar still can't decide on her warrior name! Let's help her pick one!
"Firepaw is a spirited young she-cat who was adopted into ShatterClan as a newborn; she and her sister were found next to their deceased mother, completely alone in the radioactive wasteland that ShatterClan calls home. The cats who found them brought them back to their camp, where they were swiftly adopted by a pair of senior warriors who were unable to have kits of their own.
In the moons since she was adopted into the Clan, Firepaw has proven her skills and her loyalty. Her mentor, Brightwillow, only wishes that she would be a little bit less rebellious when it comes to following orders..."
[Please reblog for a larger sample size! Thank you!]
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Faerûnian 29 Day Writing Challenge
aka el tries to get back into writing after like 3 years
this writing challenge inspired me a lot so i'm going to make you all suffer for it.
i'll be doing a mix of the sfw and nsfw prompts, but starting with sfw for today! i'll also be mixing and matching my tavs/durges, so there will probably be little to no continuity.
please be nice i haven't posted any writing in like 5 years ;~;
(SFW) Day 1: What was Tav doing when they were abducted?
Tav used: Develya, Wood Elf Rogue
The tavern wasn’t busy, given that it was the middle of the morning. The sun was still in its climb, offering the long fingers of nearly-midday sunlight to the bustling streets and buildings. Although… Most of those in the tavern hadn’t seen the bustling of the city in a long while.
Especially not Develya Aldervale.
“Mornin’, sunshine.” If the bartender’s gruff voice didn’t wake her, the loud slam of the tankard onto the counter certainly did. One green and one blue eye, shadowed by last night’s charcoal, opened blearily, trying desperately to blink away the headache.
“Mrrrnn.” Came the half assed response, long fingers reaching almost desperately for the tankard before her.
Tankard half emptied in a single swig, the Elf woman pushed herself to her feet, finishing the rest of the drink on the way up. She strode to the latrine, making sure to fix her make-up and ensuring that her hair was perfectly styled to look messy before she returned.
Moving back to her usual seat, she took the opportunity to glance at the tavern’s occupants. Two of the other usuals, one asleep at the bar and the other asleep on one of the tables, and one other man at the end of the bar, seeming to be nursing a pint of his own.
No good marks, then.
She should wait until later. Most of the coin in her pocket had not been hers originally, almost all of the jewelry dangling from her ears and placed gently around her neck and wrists were not purchased by her, either. If anyone ever asked, she had won them fairly, but her opponents might disagree. The only ring she wore was her own, the silver ring inlaid with vines that wrapped around the band.
She would have to leave this tavern soon, find a new area of the city to scalp. There were too many familiar faces, too many men that she had skimmed from already that she couldn't really risk finally sobering up long enough to two and two together.
But fuck it.
Waving to the bartender for another tankard, she sauntered to the end of the bar. This stranger with his hood up was just too tempting to ignore. Swaying her hips as she walked, she watched him as he watched her approach, a satisfied twinkle in her eyes.
"Good morning, stranger." She purred, planting herself on the stool next to him. "What's a handsome devil like you doing in a tavern like this at this hour?"
The man chuckled, lowering the hood, revealing the pointed ears and blonde hair that hid beneath.
“Looking for an old friend.” He murmured, leaning back to giver her an unashamed glance up and down. A wood elf, like herself. An accent that was far from Baldurian, and the fresh scent of the woods still lingering on his cloak.
Easy pickings.
“What’s your name, sunshine?” The man asked, offering a hand.
“Elya Firepetal.” She answered, shaking his hand. They were calloused and strong, he clearly worked with a sword or other weapon.
He responded with some line, the same that they always do - about how her name matched the fiery shade of her hair, or how the vine like tattoos upon her face were unusual this side of the Gate’s walls - and gave her his name.
“Well, Ilikas,” she murmured, gesturing for their drinks to be refilled, “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you.”
The morning passed swiftly to afternoon, drinks flowing almost constantly. Ilikas had proven to be a fierce opponent clearly no stranger to alcohol, but Develya was no lightweight either.
They found themselves taking part in a card game, up against three men who had been strangers a mere hour before. Develya sat with riches before her, already toying with the necklace around her neck that one of the men had bought his wife just that morning. Her blouse strategically unbuttoned over the course of the game, revealing just enough cleavage to distract. And distract she did.
Leaning forward as though to scratch an itch on her ankle, she slipped a card into her palm from the pocket sewn into her trousers, readying another winning hand.
Slamming her win onto the table, another chorus of swears and noises of disgust sweetening her ears, she locked eyes with Ilikas across the table, noticing something in his gaze.
Raising her tankard to her lips, she considered. He was attractive, that was sure, and there was nothing stopping her from emptying his wallet and fucking him.
“Gentlemen, I think I’ll cash out for the day.” She murmured, offering the table another flash of cleavage as she swept the gold coins into her pockets.
“Me, as well.” The wood elf man agreed, picking up the few coins he had left on the table.
Hook, line and sinker.
The man’s hand snaked around her waist as she walked to the exit, and she pushed closer to him.
This day had gone textbook perfectly. She was about to get everything she could have wanted from a good score.
Stepping out into the warm afternoon air, all excitement about the coming pleasures disappeared at the sight before her.
Five men, armed with spears wrapped with vines and silver inlays, the blaze of the Aldervale house proud on their chests, stood in the way, all weapons pointed towards them both.
“I’m sorry about the dramatics, Ms. Aldervale.” Ilikas murmured into her ear, pressing some sort of hidden blade into her back. “Your father wants you home.”
Shit.
Heartbeat thundering in her ears, she searched desperately for some way out. The men were in a perfect semicircle, no way through them. Her only chance was back. She raised her hands with a sigh. Ilikas chuckled.
“There’s a good girl.”
The blade moved from her back, giving her exactly the space that she needed.
Twisting around, she tossed a handful of sand from the pouch sewn into her pocket, causing the man to drop weapons and protect his eyes. She darted around him, disappearing back into the tavern once more. Bounding over confused patrons and their tables alike, she made a beeline for the back door, hearing the six Aldervale men entering loudly. Shouts of “seize her!” and “stop that woman!” roared over the crowd, but the awkward arms that reached out for her were no match for the woman’s athletics.
Leaping and writhing through the crowd, she pushed through the kitchen’s doors, barreling past cooks to reach that final door that would lead out onto the street and to her freedom.
Catching one of the staff with her shoulder in her haste, she stumbled, crashing through the doors and landing on her knees in the alley. She barely had time to notice the other people fleeing, all running in the same direction down the street before something caught her eye. It lowered from the sky, reaching its long tentacle towards her, but she didn’t have time to panic further. It touched her shoulder, and a strange sensation washed over her. Like a feeling of flight, or maybe falling.
The darkness covered her vision, and the Nautiloid claimed yet another victim.
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The thing about self harming friends
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2VqN656
by Stardust_Steel
“What’s Sifu Hotman doing?” Aang asked, craning his neck. “That was so close!”
Sokka looked back up sharply. The air around them was becoming almost uncomfortably hot, and the flame petal expanded ever further. Still Zuko stood at its centre without moving, his head tilted back, eyes closed, almost creepily serene. Sokka's breath caught when the next collapsing fire petals actually came close enough to be a mere breath away from Zuko.
Zuko didn’t move. He only tilted his head back further, like it was an invitation, to the falling flames around him.
Like he was asking for it to hurt.
When the next expansive firepetals fell in, Sokka knew, knew before it happened, that Zuko would let it burn himself in a coffin of fire.
--or, Zuko and Sokka have a series of not-conversations about self-harm, and moving forward. (The cuddling and affection is a plus.)
Words: 6358, Chapters: 2/3, Language: English
Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Gen
Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), Aang (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar), Bato (Avatar), Suki (Avatar), Toph Beifong
Relationships: Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), if you want to see it - Relationship
Additional Tags: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, someone tell Zuko it isn't healthy, protective sokka, this boy will walk through fire for his friends, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Hurt Sokka (Avatar), firedancing, Parental Hakoda (Avatar), Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Found Family, can be read as pre zukka, Badass Katara (Avatar), Badass Toph Beifong, yue is watching over them, Healing
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2VqN656
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