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

[ludicrousladybug]

It's Always Sunny In Ferelden

#dragon age #dragon age origins #alistair theirin #oghren #zevran arainai #warden surana #worst party i've ever brought into the deep roads. at least it was funny #'we'll be fine without a healer' they were NOT fine without a healer #my art #da #*malakai

[shanastoryteller]

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

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

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

Tonks closes her eyes. "Eighty seconds."

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

She breathes out.

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

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

"Internal," the healer says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

Tonks's heart feels so full.

She's going to marry him.

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

#hi! #prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #lance-with-a-chance-of-anxiety #harry potter #siat #and that's it for halloween prompts! hooray!

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

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

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

1,833 words / lucky number 13

...

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fine. For one game."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Only if I get hit."

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

You scoff. "Won't need it."

"Let's see."

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

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

"Good kills, baby."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No backseat gaming," you tell him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fine. Thanks."

"You can thank me by not dying again."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you."

"It isn't a compliment."

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

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

"I get that a lot."

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart."

"Ooh, are we doing condescension now?"

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

"Keep going and I'll get off."

"Off voice chat, you mean?"

You smirk. "No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You said it. Not me."

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

"Better than a tank main," you quip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why? Aren't you decent?"

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

"Doubt that."

"It's true."

"Come on. Prove it."

"See? Control freak."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So what if I win?"

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

"Oh, you're on."

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

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

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

...

more Gaz / masterlist tag

#mine #story #ask #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #gaz cod #kyle garrick #gaz Garrick #gaz x reader #gaz x you #kyle gaz Garrick x reader #kyle gaz Garrick x you #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #ahopelesspedantic

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Note: another anon request who wanted angst and dramatic obsessive dark love. hope you'll enjoy it!

Warnings: angst/suggestive, heartbreak, possessive behaviour.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: You are a healer who serves Uhtred, travelling with him and his men to keep them healthy at all times, You and Sihtric quickly fell in love, and became inseparable. But when Sihtric suddenly left in the night without saying a word, things changed.

wordcount: 2,5k

Masterlist

'You will choose me, lady.'

'You've got something to say, boy?' Uhtred asked.

'I do,' Sihtric said, holding Uhtred at sword point, 'yield to me.'

You, Finan and Osferth froze as Uhtred dropped his sword. Then suddenly Uhtred and Sihtric broke out in laughter and hugged. You all soon understood everything had been a setup and everything had been carefully planned. Sihtric falling out with Uhtred, Sihtric leaving in the dead of night, taking the prisoners with him. It was all play pretend, only so Sihtric could apparently spy in Cnut's camp for a while.

Everyone hugged Sihtric, but you were quick to hide behind Finan, who you had grown rather fond of while Sihtric was away. Finan had been just as baffled as you by Sihtric's sudden departure, and you found comfort in each other. You stayed up late, talking to each other, crying in each other's arms when needed and slowly but surely making each other smile again. Sihtric had broken your heart, and you felt he had betrayed you. And so you ended up in Finan's tent more than once after Sihtric had left.

'My lady,' Sihtric said, reaching out to you, but you stepped back and Finan pulled you in his arms, a little awkwardly.

Sihtric frowned, his eyes darting between you and the Irish man.

'My love?' Sihtric asked, a little alarmed when you wouldn't look at him, 'come here?' he asked, holding his hands out to you.

'No,' you said, refusing to leave Finan's side or look your former lover in his mismatched eyes.

'Finan?' Sihtric asked the man, 'what is the meaning of this?'

'Look,' Finan sighed, but you interrupted him.

'I hope you die without a weapon in hand!' you spat at Sihtric and stormed off, with Osferth following you immediately.

Sihtric was shocked, bewildered at your words and behaviour towards him. He truly thought you would understand his reason for leaving the way he had done. That it was never personal and that he absolutely never stopped loving you. He thought your bond was stronger and deeper than anything else. But he didn't realise how hurt you had been.

'Look,' Finan said again, 'you broke her heart, mate,' he paused, brushing his hand through his dark hair, 'she… I… we found comfort in each other.'

'Comfort?' Sihtric frowned, feeling the anger build up inside of him, 'you touched my woman?'

'I… we're sort of together, Sihtric, I'm sorry,' Finan said, feeling guilty, 'we thought you'd never come back, you betrayed us for Christ's sake!'

'Except I didn't betray you!' Sihtric raised his voice, 'it was all a trick!'

'Which we didn't know!' Finan groaned, 'she didn't know!'

'Uhtred,' Sihtric snapped, 'how could you let this happen? Let them happen? You knew she was mine!'

'I…' Uhtred began, confused at the sudden reveal of you and Finan.

'No one knew about us,' Finan confessed, 'we kept it hidden. She was fragile enough already, after what you did,' he said, looking at Sihtric, 'and we couldn't risk the side-eyes from you guys,' he looked at Uhtred.

'No,' Sihtric said, hurt and angry, 'no, you can't have her. She's mine!'

'Sihtric,' Finan sighed, 'she's not someone's property.'

'She is mine! She belongs to me!' Sihtric snarled, 'if you wish to make the square, Finan, then let us do it.'

'No,' Uhtred said, having a deja-vu to his staged argument with Sihtric before he left, 'there will be no fighting. We'll resolve this, but first we will go back to camp. We will eat, sleep, and go over this when our heads are clear again, okay? And you, Sihtric, are not done yet. You will go back to Cnut.'

'Fine,' Sihtric snarled, after which Uhtred walked back to camp, leaving both men alone, staring at each other.

'I will kill you in your sleep,' Sihtric hissed to Finan before he walked away, back to Cnut's camp.

And Finan held you in his arms that night, but he didn't sleep.

The next day Sihtric found you again and followed you, down to the river, where you went to fetch fresh water for your camp. You had been unaware of his presence, thinking he was still spending time over at Cnut's camp, until he snuck up behind you, circling his arms around you and pulling you against his body.

'My love,' he breathed in your ear.

You tried to break out of his embrace, but your knees were weak upon hearing his voice, and Sihtric was simply too strong. Something you always loved and, if you were honest, something you still loved. Sure, you had some sort of feelings for Finan, but nothing would ever compare to what you felt for Sihtric. But after the way he had left you, you knew you could never trust him again. The way it had seemed so easy for him to just leave you without a single word.

'What are you doing?!' you hissed as Sihtric turned you to face him, pushing you up against a tree.

'Trying to kiss my woman,' Sihtric smiled, looking you up and down.

'I'm not your woman anymo-,'

'I missed you,' Sihtric continued, trapping you against the tree with his body, 'I love you.'

'Sihtric, no,' you tried to convince yourself you wanted him to stop, but the feeling of his lips on your neck and his hands on your hips made you fall in love all over again.

'Stop me if you don't want me,' he said, slowly hiking up your skirt.

'Sihtric,' you sighed, allowing his body between your thighs as he loosened his belt, the sound of it arousing you instantly.

'Stop me if you don't want me,' he said again, dropping his breeches and pulling you closer.

You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck.

'Please,' you murmured, desperately wanting to feel your former lover inside you, 'Sihtric, please…'

And it didn't take long before you finally felt him again, after all the time you were apart. And it was a pleasant, familiar feeling, as you made fast, rough love out there in the woods. It was the hardest make-up sex you ever had, and you hated yourself for enjoying him so much. You hated yourself for loving him so much, and you hated yourself for not trusting him anymore. 

'This doesn't mean I'm yours again,' you said afterwards, adjusting your skirt, 'things will never be the same again between us.'

'You are mine,' Sihtric said, fixing his belt, then walked over to you, grabbing your chin, 'and mine only,' he said and kissed your lips, before heading back to Cnut's camp, while you headed back to your own camp.

The next couple of days were awkward. Skade had been retrieved and so Sihtric had left Cnut's camp, and he was completely back in your life again. You tried to avoid the Dane, which Skade noticed and she was clearly amused by the whole love affair.

Sihtric kept eyeing you up, wherever you went, and everyone noticed it. Sihtric didn't care about being subtle. And you confronted him about it the next chance you had, which was several days later, as Sihtric had followed you deep into the forest.

'Are you in love with Finan?' he asked, making his presence known.

'No,' you said, 'not really. I love him, but not like that. I just needed comfort, after you broke my heart, which he gave me.'

Sihtric hummed softly, looking you up and down. He was desperate for you, he was obsessed with you and would stop at nothing to have you again. But he didn't know he would never fully have you again.

'Finan is a good man,' you said softly.

'He is,' Sihtric agreed, 'but I won't let him have my woman.'

'I am not your woman!' you snapped.

'You are,' Sihtric said sternly as he stepped closer, 'you are mine.'

You sighed. Loudly. 'You have to get over yourself. You messed this up. You really hurt me, Sihtric. I won't take you back.'

'You will.'

'I won't.'

'You don't love me?' he asked, and furrowed his eyebrows.

You stared at him.

'I do love you,' you eventually said, 'but I do not trust you.'

'You trust me enough to lure me out here, deep in the woods,' he grinned.

'I didn't lure you. You followed me, like a lost puppy!'

'You trust me enough to let me fuck you,' Sihtric continued, 'and you haven't said a word about it to Finan.'

'Leave him out of this,' you said.

'I won't. I can't. Because he took my woman!' Sihtric snarled and got up in your face, 'mine.'

'You only have yourself to blame,' you said curtly, 'Finan took care of me when you suddenly left to do your little spying. How could you possibly think I wouldn't understand you were doing your job? Why didn't you tell me anything? We could've been fine if you only had been honest!'

'Uhtred told me not to tell anyone. We couldn't risk anyone finding out it was all pretend,' Sihtric said, 'I had no choice, my love.'

'You always have a choice. You clearly made yours,' you said, bitter, 'and I have yet to make mine.'

'You will choose me, lady,' Sihtric said before you walked away.

Back at camp, you told Finan things just got really complicated for you after Sihtric's return. You were all mixed up in your own emotions, and that you felt it wasn't fair to lead Finan on. You loved him, but more as a best friend, and you explained you just couldn't be with him anymore, not romantically at least. Finan was hurt, but he understood. And if he was honest, he was glad you broke things off, because he was struggling too but was afraid to break your heart.

'So… then, ehh, are you with Sihtric again?' Finan asked, cautiously.

'No. I will never be with Sihtric again. I can't trust him,' you said, ' But, Finan, I hope we can remain friends. You and I.'

'I would like that,' Finan smiled weakly, 'I really care for you.'

'As do I,' you said.

You embraced him and then went your separate way. Finan went to Osferth, to cry on his shoulder, and you went to set up your own tent, not wanting to share your furs with anyone anymore. 

And all this time, Sihtric had been watching you, again, and he figured you broke Finan's heart, to which he smiled. He would have you again, he thought.

Sihtric was always quiet, observant, which made him a good spy. But therefore no one knew how dark his love really was for you. How obsessive it was. When he was with you, things were fine, because he felt like he owned you. But the group also felt there had been a huge energy shift after Sihtric came back again, and it started to put a pressure on everyone.

Sihtric and Finan couldn't be near each other without breaking out in a fight. Not just over you, it was way past that already, it was about anything now. The way Finan would look at Sihtric, or how Sihtric would mumble under his breath when Finan walked by. They were simply annoyed by the sight of each other alone already. Osferth tried to stay friendly to both men, which led to him being seen as a traitor by them. Sihtric was angry with Osferth for defending Finan, and Finan was angry with Osferth for trying to understand Sihtric, as the Dane was clearly in the wrong, according to Finan. Skade kept quiet and just enjoyed seeing the group fall apart, and Sihtric eventually blamed her for everything going wrong.

'The curse affects us all!' he told Uhtred.

Uhtred had clearly noticed the pressure and energy shift too, and he often had to break up fights between Finan and Sihtric, and he had to tell them to leave Osferth alone. 

Whereas Sihtric blamed Skade, you knew it was truly all because of you and Sihtric, and the guilt was eating you alive. You did not want this tight group of friends, this band of warriors, to fall apart because of a stupid romance. 

You felt a weird form of hate towards Sihtric, and yet you still allowed him to sneak in your tent every night, and you still loved the way he fucked you each night. But when he wanted to stay the night, to simply just sleep with you, you argued and kicked him out, only to make up again the next night, so it could happen all over again. 

And the others noticed it too.

'Look,' Uhtred said after a few weeks, 'I don't know what is going on with you, Finan and Sihtric, but this has to end. Finan is a mess. He was fine with you not wanting to be with him anymore, but he can't stand the thought of you and Sihtric. Not after you told him you didn't want Sihtric back.'

'I don't want Sihtric back.'

'Are you sure about that?' Uhtred frowned, 'because we all know what happens every night. We all hear it,' he chuckled, 'and we don't blame you, but there needs to be clarity.'

You swallowed hard and didn't answer. You knew what you were doing was messed up, you loathed Sihtric after everything, but you couldn't resist him either. And Uhtred knew it, he could tell there was some twisted love going on.

'Make up your mind,' Uhtred said, 'we're all suffering because of this. My men don't trust each other anymore. I can't lead them into a battle, not like this, we will all die.'

You shed a tear as you knew Uhtred was right, and you watched him walk away. But he didn't know that you had already made up your mind days ago, you were just waiting for the right moment.

A few nights later, Sihtric snuck into your tent again, as per usual, throwing his cloak off his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Telling you how much he loves you, desires you and needs you. How much he loves to kiss you, to feel you and to fuck you. And he confessed this wasn't exactly the way he wished to be with you, but if this was all he could get, he'd take it and run.

You let him take off your clothes and you sank in his embrace, drowning in his kiss as you straddled his lap, riding him slowly, just the way you knew he loved it. And you would let him have his way with you, one more time tonight. Because you knew that after today, it was done.

And you enjoyed it, enjoyed him. You held Sihtric close, tightly in your arms as you made love. And how you did love him. Deeply. But there was no coming back from what had happened, nothing could ever fix the bond you had before he left, and you would refuse to be the downfall of Uhtred and his men.

You finally allowed Sihtric to stay the night, and you silently shed a tear as you heard his soft, comforting snores while he held you in his arms as he slept, thinking he finally owned you again. 

But hours later you quietly snuck out of his embrace. You quickly got dressed and you grabbed the little belongings you had packed earlier that day.

Uhtred would notice someone sneak out of your tent again, and he assumed it was Sihtric, so he didn't even pay any attention anymore. 

Before you left, you gave Sihtric a soft kiss on his cheek and you raked your fingers through his soft, short hair, one last time, hoping you would forever remember the feeling of the handsome Dane who broke your heart.

And you knew you would never forget Sihtric, or find a love like his again, but this would simply kill you all if it wasn't put to an end. And in truth, you hoped Sihtric would hurt the same way as you had been hurting when he had left you.

So you got up and left, without looking back. And when the men found out you had snuck away at night, without a word, you would already be long gone. 

And they would never find you or see you again.

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @bel-bottoms @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #sihtric #tlk #sihtric kjartanson #sihtric fanfic #finan #uhtred #sihtric the last kingdom

[harshita-hiranyamayi]

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

Part 1

Part 2

"What do you mean leaving?"

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

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

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

"What are you doing?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where are you taking me?"

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

"Why won't you answer?"

"Yn??"

"Shut up would you? Just follow me"

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

"Okay, we are here." You smiled

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#avatar #way of water #neteyam #sully x reader #sully family #avatar the way of water #x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x oc #fanfic #avatar 2

[angriel]

Eywa's Chance: Deja Vu? pt.2

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

@fluloa

"Found You Bitch"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Italized in Na'vi)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DEJA VU

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

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

Kiyevame Ma Jake, Eywa Ngahu

See you soon My Jake, May eywa be with you

Nga Yawne Lu Oer!

You're beloved to me (I love you)

Chapter 3 is out!

#avatar imagines #avatar pandora #james cameron's avatar #soft #avatar movie #x reader #jake sully x you #jake sully x reader #jake sully imagine #jake sully #avatar jake #jake sully smut #jakesully #avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar fandom #avatar fanfiction #avatar headcanons #avatar imagine #avatar james cameron #avatar x reader #avatar x you #james cameron avatar #pandora #na’vi #omatikaya #jake sully angst #jake sully headcanon #jake sully avatar #protective jake sully

[sweeethinny]

safe and sound

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

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

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

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

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

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

What if the answer wasn't what she wanted?

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

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

''Until the very end.''

#jily #james x lily #my fic

[dollish-shard]

Perhaps, This Time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It felt so empty.

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

Not her.

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

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

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

"Do you know who I am?"

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

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

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

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

She watched it leave, and sighed.

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

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

The witch set herself back to work.

#empty spaces #microfiction #shard's stories #dollposting #dolls #witches #sad #tragedy

[quicksilverdrabbles]

At Largashbur

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

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

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

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

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

Xelzaz: Why though-

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

Yaksha: Hm? Yes, I am fine.

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

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

Morana: Does it make you miss your home?

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

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

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

Morana: Still..

~One ritual later~

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

Morana: Excuse me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morana: *glances over at Yaksha*

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

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

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

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

Yamarz: ...

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

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

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

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

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

Yaksha: Mm..

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

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

Morana: ...

Xelzaz: Morana?

Morana: Let's just follow along for now.

~

At Fallowstone Cave...

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

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

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

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

Yamarz: Huh? Why not?

Morana: Putting my previous threat aside-

Kaidan: Threat???

Inigo: I'll tell you later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Xelzaz: What on earth is that?

Morana: Take a guess.

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

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

Lucien: ... That stuff really is terrifying.

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

#skyrim #tes #the elder scrolls #modded skyrim #dragonborn #ldb oc #kaidan skyrim #lucien flavius #inigo skyrim #yaksha skyrim #xelzaz skyrim

[sezja]

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

Part One

He hates tunnels.

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

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

...Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Take another step, and I'll-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#sanson smyth #guydelot thildonnet #my writing #febuwhump #febuwhumpday5 #febuwhump2023 #all's well that ends well c:

[ask-fantasy-sanders-sides]

Well v dont you know of any healers that could help? We could use all the help we can get.

“Why didn’t you let her heal you?! Can I—”

“No,” Virgil frowns, tone resolute, “I don't want you or anyone else wasting your energy now. We'll all need it later if Illia is even half the warrior I remember.”

“It's not like I'm going to run out. I generate more healing magic every day than I know what to do with! Sometimes I push myself a little just so I have an excuse to get rid of it.” Roman argues.

And it’s true, most days; He isn’t just reckless for the fun of it. He can feel the magic in his body, a blaze of fire under his skin burning him from the inside out. It doesn’t hurt or itch like hiding his wings, but it’s ever-present and just too hot, like a fever. It builds up at dawn every day, and then he’s lit like a firework from head to toe, from the second he wakes up until the moment he uses it up. It leaves him restless and uncomfortable when he goes too long without a fight, without an excuse to unleash a spell or two.

“Please? You'll be in a better condition to fight if you can walk comfortably.”

That gets Virgil’s attention, finally. He holds his frown while he thinks about it.

“You promise you don’t run out?”

“Not nearly as easily as you seem to think I do.” Roman smiles, knowing he’s won, “I’m an angel, remember? I’m built to go around healing whole villages of plagues and stuff like that.”

“Fine.” Virgil huffs, reluctantly offering his hand.

Gently, mindful of the wounds on his arm, Roman presses his lips to Virgil’s hand. In moments he sees that red color tint the edges of his vision — telling him his eyes are glowing — and feels a surge of energy move between them through the point of contact.

It feels a lot like the way you can feel heat leave your body when you touch something freezing. It would be a little nauseating if he hadn’t been doing this since he was a child. It doesn’t take much from him to close Virgil’s wounds, since it seems he’d gotten the worst of it treated already, but Roman doesn’t close the spell until he’s certain Virgil’s been fully healed. At the end, instead of leaving Roman cold he feels a bit more settled. The burn settles down to something more manageable, like standing in the summer sun.

Roman moves away, and Virgil stares open-eyed at himself for a moment, turning over his limbs to access the damage. He begins unwrapping the now unnecessary bandages on his legs and torso, giving Roman a side-eye that’s as suspicious as it is impressed.

“I know you’re an angel, but Remus usually gets exhausted after fixing a scratch or two. I didn't want to hurt you.”

“Well I’m far from hurt,” Roman laughs, puffing his chest a little, “And I have plenty more to give. Remus’s healing talent is almost nonexistent, but he got other benefits from our divine parentage. You might have noticed how inhuman his strength and pain tolerance are.”

“I thought that was mostly because he's a masochist.”

That shocks a coughing laugh out of Roman, making Virgil smile. Roman rolls his eyes,

“That too. But, really, that was his gift from Mom. Apparently all of us half-angels are supposed to be near-invulnerable and bursting at the seams with holy magic, but for whatever reason me and Remus each only got half of our gifts.”

Roman sits back on his hands, checking on Annie while Virgil’s still unwrapping himself. She went and laid down on Logan once they’d gotten him onto the bed, looking like she was about ready to cry. Thankfully, Virgil translated that she was just nervous that she couldn’t hear his heartbeat. She had her head flopped onto his stomach. After a little repositioning, she conked out right there, still exhausted from her time at the party.

“Mama always thought it was some sort of sign from the gods that we were ‘always meant to stick together.’" Roman continues mindlessly, watching Annie for a moment to make sure she’s breathing calmly, “Watch out for your big brother, mijo. You're a team. Funny team, a healer and a fighter that can’t die. What do you need a healer for if you can’t hardly get hurt?”

He turns back to find Virgil staring at him, something strained in his expression. Roman startles at the scrutiny, quickly looking away and changing the subject.

“Hey, do you know where a blade and some ribbon are so I can get this mess under control?” Roman gestures to his overgrown-again beard and hair, “No use just sitting around while we wait for them to come back.”

“Oh, sure. I still keep some supplies for his mustache in my bag,” Virgil motions to Remus, “I’m sure we can make it work. I don’t think it expires… Come on, there’s a washroom right there.” 

Virgil fishes in his discarded quiver-bag-thing for a small, sharp knife and a small pair of scissors, probably from the sewing kit he used to fix Annie’s shift thing. He gets up and walks over to the wall opposite the bed, and holds his hand up to it.

“Do you want me to do it? I'm not very fast, but I won't cut you. I used to do it for Ree and my sisters all the time.”

“You don’t have to!” Roman flushes a light, considering doing something so intimate, “I’ve got it. I can stand a nick or two, anyway.”

A minute passes, and Virgil seems content, pushing the door open and leading Roman in. Hidden almost seamlessly in the wall is a little cubby with a mirror and a bowl etched with elven runes along the rim. The water inside is so clear that it took Roman a second glance to notice it was there.

Virgil stands in the doorway, propping it open where he can keep and eye and ear on the others.

“You did that trim yourself, before? For the party?”

“Uhh, no. I've always been clumsy with a blade.”

Virgil smirks, and Roman cuts him off,

“Not just the sword, before you even make a snarky joke.” Roman smiles, reaching down to touch the surface of the water. A speck of dirt on his finger disappears as soon as it touches the liquid, confirming Roman’s suspicions; they have the same spell on their worship pools in the temple back home.

“Remus did it for me. I did our makeup,” Roman explains as he starts fiddling with the knife, figuring out how to hold it and trying to remember what his brother had done before, 

“He never misses an opportunity to gloat, and he was always the better hairdresser between us. I still want to get this mess under control, though.”

Roman begins to shave his cheek, being careful not to slice himself. It’s easier with Virgil’s knife, oddly enough, thanks to how ridiculously sharp it is. It’s not going to be flawless no matter how much Roman fiddles with it, so he forces himself to accept a measure of imperfection rather than over-correct too much and cut it all off. (He’s actually gotten pretty attached to the beard and how grown-up and mature it makes him look.)

Once he thinks he’s mastered the little cheek-pull-curve thing Remus was on about today-yesterday, Roman’s mind wanders enough to attach onto something Virgil said before.

“..Wait, you used to shave your sisters? I thought Elves didn’t grow body hair, or cut their hair?” 

“Well, it’s a little less concrete than that.” Virgil shifts his weight from one foot to another, that glazed look in his eyes disappearing slightly whenever Roman gets him to talk,

“You’re right about the body hair, but it’s not uncommon for priestesses and soldiers to have undercuts or patterns shaved into their heads. As long as you leave enough to make a ponytail and that part stays as long as possible, you can do whatever you want. Like that cleric who just came in.”

Virgil shrugs, his eyes flashing red for a moment, “I never got one, but when my sisters wanted them they would get me to do it. You have to be able to trust your hairdresser not to just slit your throat when they get the chance, right?”

Roman gulps, 

“I guess you would. Sorry, I’ve been trying to get your mind off of the Underdark.”

“Why didn't you and Remus stick together?

Roman’s face falls at the question almost instinctively.

Well, that’s not about the Underdark, but its not much better.

“I know you two are super weird and grumpy about each other, but you both talk about being kids together so fondly. I’m just curious what could have done it, I guess. I mean, it took a spell to separate Remus from me, and we weren’t together for nearly as long.”

Roman sighs deeply, willing all of his frustration to seep out with his breath. He looks back at Virgil through the mirror, clicking the pieces together,

“Wait, he never told you? Gods, that changes so much— I thought you knew?”

Virgil shrugs, not meeting his eyes even via reflection. He looks out at the sleeping redhead, voice soft,

“He doesn't like to talk about it.”

“What, me?” Roman scoffs, but he tries to make it sound amused instead of frustrated. Virgil shakes his head, his lips turning up in the hint of a smile,

“No, the day you two split up. He loved talking about you.”

“To insult me, no doubt.”

“Well, yeah, most of the time. But in a nice way, I think.” He smiles freely now, “The way brothers talk about each other when they're only pretending they don't care. My brothers used to talk the same way about me.”

Roman feels the need to point out that Virgil and his siblings were raised in an anti-kindness death cult, so he may have different standards for what constitutes friendly ribbing. However, he is pointedly ignoring that topic up right now.

"I won't tell you all the details if he doesn't want you to know. I don't really like talking about it either," Roman deflects. As much as he would like to vent to someone about what happened that night — what Remus did that night — it’s got to be a violation of the Bro Code to shit talk your brother to his best friend.

“Honorable. But annoying.” Virgil pouts. Roman shrugs, explaining slowly between swipes of the knife,

“Suffice it to say, he crossed a line. One I wasn't willing to forgive him for at the time. And he couldn’t forgive me for not forgiving him. So we split up, and didn’t meet up again for years.”

“At the time?” Vigil pries, an undeniable and slightly heartbreaking lilt of hope in his voice, “So you forgive him now?”

“I didn’t say that,” Roman growls, a little harsher than he meant to.

“He’s still never apologized, or even done the bare minimum and acknowledged that what he did was wrong. I’m just...tired of avoiding him about it. I don’t want to hate him.” Roman shakes his head, “Forgiveness you earn, but I can’t help that I love him.”

“Roman,” Virgil smiles, pink ribbons in his irises, “He should hear that from you. If it helps, He doesn’t hate you either.”

Roman laughs, barely avoiding a nick on his lip,

“I doubt that. The last thing he said to me before he passed out was basically a threat. And he called me stupid, the ass.”

“You were with him when he passed out?” Virgil zips upright, wide eyes drilling into Roman’s back.

“What happened?!”

“Well, uhh...” Roman forces a neutral expression, “We were talking, and in the middle of a sentence he dropped. I didn’t see anyone hurt him or anything, he just passed out. Y’know, magic, probably.”

“What were you talking about?”

Roman’s hand slips. A sigh of relief when no sting of pain follows, then Roman looks anywhere but at Virgil,

“You,” He starts, because he doesn’t want to lie, “But I wasn’t really paying much attention to him, since I was looking for Annie—”

“Going to need more details than that, Roman.” Virgil glares, sharp and intense. Roman can feel himself sweating.

“Uhh, well...” Roman fumbles, his face turning redder as he realizes he’s not getting out of this. Remus’s ‘warnings’ replay in his head, his high-pitched, gravelly voice saying things about his own ‘best friend’ that Roman would rather cut out his tongue than repeat. He shakes his head to get rid of that lingering voice,

“He could tell I liked you, so he tried to scare me.” Roman focuses closer on his hands, trying to blur Virgil out of his peripheral vision, “I don’t think he meant any of it, really! He just gets weird about me and dating,”

Virgil chuckles, all at once sounding less like he wants to kill something.

“Awww, ‘dating.’ You have a crush on me.”

Roman’s hand slips again, this time a lot more dramatically. Roman’s hand flies to his jaw on reflex, knowing he’s certainly sliced himself this time. Virgil curses and rushes up next to him, peeling his hand away to look.

“Shit! Sorry, I shouldn’t have teased while you had a fucking knife in your hand—” 

Roman looks at his hand, noticing a distinct lack of red. There’s none on the blade, either, and no pain in his jaw.

Now that’s strange.

While Virgil’s still turning over his cheek, Roman follows his gut and holds the knife edge to the back of his other hand, this time trying to leave a scratch behind.

Nothing.

Except Virgil saw that, and he wrenches the knife from Roman’s hand, then knees him solidly in the gut.

“What the absolute fuck are you doing?!” He hisses loudly, and while the sharp sound stung his ears slightly, Roman’s not doubled over in pain from the blow. In fact, he’d barely even felt it.

“No, it’s okay! I did it on purpose.”

“Yeah I saw that, shithead!”

“No, look!” Roman smiles and holds up his perfectly uninjured hand.

“That thing is sharp, right?”

“Of course it is, it’s been cutting your hair!”

“Then why isn’t it doing anything?”

Roman gets a look at his face in the mirror, thinking back to his process. He should definitely have a few red lines, considering the knife and his inexperience and every time he’d jumped. But there’s nothing.

He thinks back further, trying to remember every moment he’d felt ache or pain for the last day.

“Oh my gosh, I remember!! This happened before, too!” Roman is giddy now, flapping his hands around wildly, “Remus punched me at the party and I didn’t even feel it, but he wasn’t holding back! —Here, try to hit me as hard as you can!”

“Uh, No.”

“Come on, aren’t you curious?”

Roman grins, eyes sparkling with excitement. Virgil’s resolve crumbles slightly when he looks up at him, and before long he’s rolling his eyes and flexing his hand, showing off those curled claws that have accidentally pierced him once before.

Virgil groans, running one hand down his tired face, 

“Okay, fine. I’ll try something. Please stay still.”

He reaches forward, grabbing Roman’s arm, pushing his sleeve out of the way and considering his palm for a moment. Then he inches his claw close to his skin, and presses as gently as possible, slowly increasing the speed and pressure of the swipe as he goes.

Nothing. Hardly even an indent.

He tries again, way sharper this time, but he still can’t cut him.

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Ask 132     (( @rylaenvol​ ))

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Rules

Most Recent Recap, in case you feel like you missed something!

PCs available: Patton, Roman, Virgil, Janus, and Annie!

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Virgil and Roman call a healer to come check on Remus and Logan, then pass the time talking and freshening up while they wait for the others to return.

#lets roll #ttrpgau art #long post #ask fantasy sanders sides #tw self harm mention #kinda #he's not actually trying to hurt himself really #hes testing out his new superpowers hes fine #please tell me if i need to tag anything else! #Roman is invulnerable now!! Werebear perks uvu #it comes with more werebear drawbacks though >:) #unfortunately Logan is not awake to warn you about what they are

[oakthcrn]

The Grand Palace - Os Alta - Lark's POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

" Anything you desire, flame heart. "

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

#. the prince guard and the kings blade ( grishaverse ) #. creations of the hands ( edits and doodles ) #drabble #i love writing drabbles

[talonslockau]

Fire and Ice - Chapter 45

Chapter 44 || Index || Chapter 46

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What prophecy?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Their vigil had begun.

#talonslock #warrior cats #wc #fanfic #the prophecies begin #talonslock story #fire and ice #thunderclan #fireheart #speckleflight #snowkit #yellowfang #dewpaw #peppermask #redtail #graystripe #dappleshine #spottedleaf #dustleap #sandstorm #bluestar

[retphienix]

(a lot of) Oberon stuff

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So I did it.

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

Also few shards, needs more shards.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good stuff.

#warframe #RetPlays

[wellfell]

  ་ ∗ ׁ ⸼ ་  📼    ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉʳ /   accepting    .   .   .   keep kissing me like that and we'll end up back in bed .   @cchilyoja

 it feels sinful to wake up to such beautiful mornings . she had lovers in her bed some mornings , but they were always left alone on a cold bed . it feels like she's living something forbidden , their life was a combination of constant regret and solitude , if they allowed someone in their lives they had to kick them out as soon as they tried to get too comfortable around them . but no business nor duty bound her to him this way , at first it was a contract and need for protection from a talented healer like him . then needing company , then came his rare smiles and distracted her from her whole mission inside the gang ; to make her empire greater than what osamu made it — to be better , to be free .

 their coffees are getting cold on the counter . her spine arched , black locks hanging from her back as she kisses him with a promise of letting him make the breakfast afterwards . just one kiss . . . though she proves to be untrustworthy when her pale arms snake around his neck and deepen their kiss . long fingers painted red , tangling in his dark locks , tilting her head left and upward ; he's tall but she doesn't make it harder to catch her kisses . she had to leave a few days ago , and never return . a new beginning was awaiting her , but one night it was raining and she found herself at his doorstep like a stray cat missing her home . somewhere between trembling from the cold and wetness , she's told him she missed him . ' i don't want to go , i don't want to go ' . and somewhere between drying her damp hair and finding a shirt of his that could fit her smaller body , akina remembers their hungry kisses and his faint smiles . and his hands , and his warmth . akina allows him to pull away at last when their lungs ache , one hand stroking his cheek , thumb feeling the movements of his jaw when he speaks .

 ❛ awe — as if i don't want that . ❜ comes a soft purr , as her hold tightens on him like a viper . catching his lips once more with a crooked grin ; god she hasn't stopped smiling since she woke up . her cheeks hurt . a crack in her hard armor . the mori heir wasn't exactly the cold type , she laughed and she smiled but the problem was that she only smiled at you if she wanted to end you . she'd have hiroshi come see how she's smiling without a reason now , he never stops mentioning that he knows her smiles are fake . a bodyguard of hers , obeyed every order jung-hoo gave him , a good man with a pretty wife . ❛ fine fine . . . ❜ she says with the last kiss pressed on the corner of his mouth . locks bouncing as her heels finally touch the ground , breaking away from his embrace . his shirt hanging loosely from her shoulders , reaching mid thighs . ❛ alright what should i do ? cut the bread? do you have strawberry jam ? ❜

#cchilyoja #heh .... hi there

[witches-and-weirdos]

🔪 FINISH HIM 🔪 [[betterwithafriend]]

(Another pre-hiatus ask from 3 years ago, pretty sure this was a kill me prompt, so I'm gonna kill the kid now with my worst muse @betterwithafriend)

Tera stumbled down the cave, painfully grasping her head. The screaming and chittering just wouldn't stop, it was unbearable for days now, maybe weeks even, time was too much of a meaningless blur to really tell. She didn't know where she was urged to go so badly, nor why, the only guess she had was something about those "Watchers" this place had frozen, some ancient horrid entities waiting to return or something. Would fit the bill.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! I CAN'T GET THERE IF I FREEZE TO DEATH!" Her voice echoed ahead, shouted at the very top of her lungs without any concern for attracting whatever might live here, if anything. The stars weren't happy that she stopped to take shelter and they screamed louder and worse for it. The stars didn't understand blizzards. Maybe the stars should listen for once. "WILL YOU NOT-"

Draw, shoot!

One of the stalking shadows was actually real. A large beast of some short, big claws, strange antlers, now a smoking purple hole tunneling through in its chest. Her reflexes were still sharp. The living gun's unearthly scream died down along with the ones in her head, and a bit of clarity returned.

The beast was screaming in pain as the purplish corruption spread through its flesh and fur, disintegration slowly following up. Its screams mixed with another's, a small boy's, desperate with all the "Nooooo"-s and "You'll be fine!!!"-s and "Why did you do that?!"-s in the world. Tera grimaced from the headache, hand grasping her face again. "Fuck..." she walked closer. "Don't touch the wound. And no, it won't be fine. Or he? Whatever, it's dead."

"No! No, you'll fix him! You have to! Please! He's still okay, he's still breathing, there's time! It's okay Willump, you'll be okay, we'll heal you!" The boy wept and held this creature's hand, it couldn't scream anymore, its lungs were breaking down, but it gently laid a paw over him.

How utterly fucking bothersome. "You have a healer here? Or anyone?"

"No! It was just us! He wouldn't have hurt you! We were just-"

"Alone then? Nobody can help lift him?"

"Y... Yeah..."

No angry revenge backup to worry about then. She aimed and shot it through the head, a horrid screeching noise filled her and the boy's skull from the gun, wrong in every way. The boy froze in a mix of shock and terror.

"There, painless." She said dismissively, then aimed for the boy's head. His gaze slowly turned towards her. "Sorry, I guess."

#Tera