#relic keel

[lumosinlove]

Will you be updating Between Fifth And You?

I've been plotting on the side about this story and Relic Keel...I'm thinking about a re-write, just starting from the beginning again since its been a while and I have different ideas now. We'll see when it happens, but the short answer is yes. <3

[wormytoast]

the worst crime that star rail commits is actually being kinda fun

[taconafide2]

OKAYYYYYY IMBUBUTOR LUNAE

[ominosus]

bruises and quiet aches — ominis gaunt x fem!reader x sebastian sallow Part II

Part I here ❤︎ Part III here ❤︎

Cue Sebastian Sallow ˚∗✴︎ Hold on tight, spidermonkeys, it's an angsty one – but there is some kissing in the end to make up for it B) pray forgive me

Let me know if you'd like a third part ❤︎

plot summary: older ominis gaunt x fem!reader x Sebastian sallow

Ominis helps you patch up your wound but it turns out it's more difficult than you thought it would be. The tensions are tangible and both of you are trying to ease into each other's presences again after having been away for so long – wanting to be closer but not feeling warranted that freedom since you walked away from it. Just when you thought it was only the two of you, Sebastian appears. His anger with you is palpable and he puts you on the spot for having left them behind. How will it all end?

warnings: recommended 18+ but nothing explicit in this one, mentions of blood and pain from wounds, angsty, swearwords, slow burn, kissing

His office was colossal; a well-kept, tidy library full of relics, neatly stacked in rows. You ogled the room, amazed by it. Shelfs stacked with books traveled from floor up high until it reached the rounded ceiling with intricate patterns. It felt as if you’d keel over as you bent your neck upwards to look at it all.  ”Merlin, Ominis.” you mumbled, mostly to yourself, but making Ominis clench his jaw at the sound of his name softly leaving your lips. ”Sit.” he suddenly spoke, pointing at the desktop in the middle of the room — waisting no time. You looked at him and his outstretched arm. He sighed. ”Or bleed out.” he muttered. He wasn’t happy with you, that much was clear, but he was happy you were there, you could feel it linger beneath his prim, proper and stern exterior. ”I’m just… in awe.” you answered, looking at him now and not the room. He sighed again before heading towards a wall of cabinets on the other side of the room. You removed your robe, laying it in a neat pile on the floor not wanting blood on his furniture. You looked at your blood soaked vest and shirt and muttered to yourself. Merlin, pray for me — this is going to hurt, you whispered to yourself before you began to unbutton your shirt that grasped onto your skin. Ominis felt himself tense up at the sound of you undoing your clothes behind him — his ears perked at your soft and subdued whimpers of pain. His hand grasped onto one of the cabinets shelfs as you keened more loudly while peeling your shirt off the irritated cavity on your skin. He knew it was wrong of him to react the way he was to you being in pain, but your whimpers and gasps tugged at something within him that he’d kept at bay for several years — itching at his brain, making him feel positively starved. He had to pause slightly to take a deep breath before continuing his search for the orange paste he was after. Somewhat more tousled than before.

You propped yourself up on the desk, gasping slightly at the impact piercing through your wound. Even if you sat there with your shirt unbuttoned, pulled right open, chest exposed, bra showing — you felt more relaxed than ever. Ominis only returned to you after you had gone quiet. His mouth had grown incredibly dry and his cheeks were much redder than before. He looked slightly disheveled and tense. You couldn’t help but blush as you looked at him. He made you feel ten times lighter. He swiftly pulled out a stool and sat himself down in front of you, his head now slightly lower than yours. His pale eyes rested on the space behind you as he breathed out slowly. ”So, what happened?” he asked, sincerely. ”Bad swordsmanship.” you answered, grinning at yourself, looking down at the open wound. ”Or, perhaps, good swordsmanship… since they got me…” you changed your answer, pondering your own joke as your gaze wondered upwards towards the intricate ceiling. You hissed madly as Ominis touched your waist where the wound began. First you felt the ache flashing through your body, but then you could only focus on Ominis’ soft fingertips against the skin on your waist, burning it gently. He looked concentrated as he evaluated the severity of your injury. You could only admire him in front of you and all his little idiosyncrasies: the way his dark eyebrows curved above his eyes, the contrast between his raven eyelashes against his mist-filled eyes, the muscles pulling at his jaw, the beauty spots creating constellations on his skin, the slight tug at his lip. The air suddenly felt heavier as you studied him. Your breathing slowed down, steadying itself with the rhythm of Ominis’. He hummed quietly before pulling his hand back and getting up on his feet again. His hands reached to the hem of his trousers as he started to unbuckle his belt. You choked on your own breath that quickened again. A scorching fire burned both your lips and cheeks. ”What in merlins - What are - What are you doing?” you mumbled, incredibly flustered and utterly bewildered to what was going on. Ominis looked at you as if you were being immature as he continued to remove his belt from his trousers. ”Why are you - What in merlins name do you think you’re doing?” you repeated, slightly more agitated this time. You felt your stomach flip at the sight of his hands around the buckle of his belt. He couldn’t help but tug a little at his lips hearing you become so nervous. ”You’ll need something to bite down on.” he finally spoke, matter-of-factly. ”And you’re not ruining any of my books.” he added, dragging his belt from his trousers with a swift whip. ”It’s going to hurt.” he finished, before sitting back down and holding his belt in the air between the both of you. ”I’ll be fine.” you promptly spoke, looking at him still red flushed — and a slightly inflated ego. Ominis was going to insist, but he was still angry and annoyed at you — angry at you for having left, annoyed at you for being so proud. ”Alright… Have it your way.” he answered, raising his eyebrows. He put some orange paste in his palm while you leaned back slightly, resting on your arms so that Ominis had a better reach to your waist. He hovered his hand above the wound and turned his head towards you. He was going to ask you if you were ready, that you should perhaps steady yourself, but decided not to. You saw all of this play out in his mind before he promptly pressed his hand on top of your wound. 

Something pulled out the air from your lungs. Reeling from the pain you threw your head backwards. It felt as if a scorching fire burned from your waist, up your chest and into your brain, destroying everything in its way. It felt as if something clawed at your throat, wanting out. 

Your legs kicked up at the pain, making Ominis place his free hand on your thigh, pressing it down with his weight in order to keep you still. You whined loudly. ”O-OM-inis!” you managed to cry out, biting down, grinding your teeth together. Tears had already started to cloud your eyes, slowly slipping down your cheek. You could barely breathe. Suddenly the sensation vanquished as Ominis lifted his hand. He was still facing you, even redder than before. You panted on top of the desk. He didn’t need to say anything — you grabbed ahold of his belt beside you and bit down hard. Ominis’ hand returned to your wound. 

After a few minutes of excruciating pain that felt like a lifetime, Ominis gently dragged his hand off of you. At this point you were fully spread across his desk, eyes closed, fingers digging into the stacks of papers, your back sweaty against his desktop. You were crying. It had hurt really, really bad. As you heaved lightly for air, trying to return to reality, you heard Ominis say something. You couldn’t hear what it was but you suddenly heard another voice other than Ominis’ answer him, which made you sober up. Slightly anxious you forced your eyes open as you tried to quickly bend upwards, only to whine again. ”Easy.” Ominis spoke, moving closer to you. You huffed out a breath, winching at the soreness of your body. You heard Ominis walk past you to some other place in the room, scavenging between bottles and herbs. You pried your eyes open, willing your eyelids to part. Your sight was foggy from sweat and fatigue. Hazily, you tried to look for Ominis only to see a dark-dressed lean figure standing a couple of meters from where you laid on the table, looking straight at you with dark eyes. ”Sebastian?” you mumbled quietly and very unsurely. 

You squeezed your eyes at him — thinking it might be a mirage in the state you were in, but he didn’t vanish. He just stood there, silently, looking at you with his arms crossed. You thought you’d faint. You actually thought you would. So, you had to lay back down closing your eyes, trying to find a rhythm to your breathing. Sebastian remained quiet as he stood gazing at his former best friend and her exposed chest that rose up and down, the sweat on her skin glistening in the light of the room. Laying there for a little while you couldn’t help but grow anxious to how quiet it was. Every now and then they whispered something, but Ominis made Sebastian fall silent. 

You felt a hand gently grab ahold of your knee. ”Here.” Ominis spoke softly. ”Drink this.” You opened your eyes, your breathing finally having settled a little. Ominis stood between your legs at the desk as he held a tiny little glass filled with a lilac liquid, glowing lightly. You tried to push yourself up the table but felt incredibly weak after what had just happened. You huffed, irritated at yourself, whining again as you pushed too hard too quickly. Ominis’ free hand grabbed ahold of your upper arm as he helped you, holding you up with his firm hand so that you could steady yourself. ”Thanks.” you whispered, before your shaky hand took the tiny glass from his hand and swung the liquid back into your mouth. It tasted sweet. He had put something in it to make it taste better for you. You felt weirdly faint at the tender act. ”Thanks.” you repeated, looking up as he hovered right next to you. His other hand now rose to your cheeks, covered in sweat, before he placed the back of his hand on your forehead. You swooned at his quiet affection. He hummed. ”You’re burning up.” he spoke quietly. ”That should make you feel better in a little while.” he added, also feeling rather shaken after having witnessed you in such pain.

Your eyes were pulled to the tall shadow radiating acrimony. A sullen-looking Sebastian stood staring at you shivering on Ominis’ desk. You both just looked at each other. Well, you looked at him, he glared at you. You couldn’t quite understand why — if it was the excruciating pain you had just experienced, his annoyed, snobbish look, or his overall cold approach, but he made you feel madly frustrated. You huffed, a low and quiet laugh leaving your chest dancing across the air to where he stood. The laugh made you winch a little as it pulled at your waist, as if punishing you. 

”Fancy seeing you here.” you muttered, clearly directed at Sebastian even though you spoke it into Ominis’ chest as he was still standing in front of you. It was something the two of you used to say to each other whenever you met at, should we say, rather nefarious locations during your Hogwarts years. You felt Sebastian’s eyes roll at you and heard a hefty sigh leave his lips as he charged. ”No.” he muttered, before he laughed somewhat deliriously. Both you and Ominis turned your gazes towards him. He was still glaring at you. ”You think you can waltz in here and act as if everything is fine — so innocent, in peril… That might work on Ominis…” he scoffed — keeping your eyes on him. Ominis snorted at the last part before shaking his head slightly. ”It’s just…perfect, all of it. Bravo.” Sebastian continued through gritted teeth. Your eyes faltered down towards the wooden floor, shame flushing back to you and overthrowing whatever irritation he first invoked. He was angry with you. ”I’m sorry.” you whispered where you sat, tail between your legs. ”Hm?” Sebastian bit back, quickly. ”I can’t quite hear you.” he added mockingly, even though he heard you the first time. You looked up again as your eyebrows bowed to him. ”I’m sorry, Sebastian.” you spoke, slightly louder. ”Oh, you’re sorry.” he spoke, feigning empathy. ”Well, then everything’s tip-top, dandy, good as new!” he added. Your gaze faltered again. It was difficult to face their reactions even though they were justified. ”You can do better than that, y/n. Come on.” he quietly threw at you. ”I expected more.” he added. ”But, then again, I’ve learned that I shouldn’t expect anything at all from you. Should I?” he finished, slicing your heart right open. You nodded slowly where you sat. Ominis heaved out a sigh. ”Easy, Sebastian.” he spoke to his friend. ”Perhaps, this isn’t the pla-” he continued before being cut off. ”Place?” Sebastian questioned him, laughing hysterically again. ”No, you’re absolutely right… Let her run away for another few years and then we can, perhaps, just maybe, get some answers to why she abandons her friends, ignores them, runs away…” he trailed off. Ominis sighed before he stepped away from you, placing himself somewhere in the middle. ”I never meant to hurt you.” you spoke, meekly. A single teardrop fell from your eye, slowly falling down before it crashed against the floor, shattering. Sebastian had a hard time being resolute in the fact he swore to himself that he’d never forgive you for abandoning him when he needed his friends the most, when he needed you, close to him. Every fiber in him wanted to erase the space in between you now. He wanted to wipe your tears of your face, hold you close and never, ever let you go — but he was too proud, and too hurt to do that.

By the time of your last semester at Hogwarts the boys and you had grown incredibly close. You were practically family to each other, but there was something, unspoken, unexpressed, that always lingered in the air that made it clear that you were more than that. You had always been careful not to tread too close to whatever it was since your friendship was too important to waste on feeble teenage hormones, but one evening you slipped straight into its abyss never to return. One drunken night you had kissed not only one of them, but both of them, on separate occasions — and after that, it continued in secrecy — in empty loo’s, classrooms, the undercroft… Neither of them knew you were kissing the other. You didn’t have the heart to tell them — and more selfishly, you didn’t want to choose. Alas, all good things must come to an end, and a few day’s before graduation they found out as they started to put the pieces of the puzzle together. They were mad at you for having gone behind their back and asked you what you wanted, who you wanted — to which you froze. Fearing that it would ruin their friendship if you chose one of them, fearing that you’d loose one of them — you chose none, and completely disappeared after graduation. They both tried to get a hold of you until they gave up after a couple years. You thought about them every day. You could never truly get them out of your mind. 

”I never wanted to hurt you.” you repeated, quietly. ”I never wanted to choose.” you added. The room fell silent, as if time itself paused to listen. ”I couldn’t.” you spoke before pausing. ”I could never choose between you. I loved you both… Love — Loved… Love. ” you mumbled, very softly, quietly, every word growing smaller. ”So… I left.” you finished. Ominis stood with his head turned towards the floor, listening intently, trying to fathom what it was you were telling them, make sense of it. Sebastian was still looking at you and your head leaning down, afraid to look at them. ”I left in the hopes that your friendship would survive… and it did.” you spoke, laughing quietly. ”You’re still in each other’s life’s… So, I’m happy even if you’re not.” you finished again. ”Are you?” Ominis spoke for the first time in a while. His voice gentle. ”Are you happy?” he added before turning on his heels so that his body was facing you again. You willed yourself to look up at him, at them — both just observing you. ”Sure.” you answered, shrugging slightly. You couldn’t even try to convince yourself that you were. ”Really?” Ominis asked, knowing very well that you were lying. ”No, Ominis.” you spoke, before sighing harshly. ”No, I’m not happy.” you finished. You started to grow more frustrated with each second that passed. ”So, you’re telling us that you left in order to make us happy and you ended up making us all miserable? Is that it?” Sebastian spoke, irritated. ”Sure, if that’s how you’d like to phrase it.” you mumbled. Sebastian snorted as he started pacing where he stood. ”You could have talked to us.” Ominis joined in. ”We would have helped you.” he added. ”No.” you quickly retorted, frowning at him. ”You would have talked me out of it-” you continued before being cut off. ”Of course we would have talked you out of it.” Ominis interfered, sounding stern. ”Of course we would have.” he repeated, as if he wanted to make it very clear. ”And we wouldn’t have forced you to choose either.” he spoke, more softly. ”If you would have talked to us, been honest with us, you would had known that.” Sebastian chipped in, still irritated at you, mad at you, but also irrevocably still madly in love with you. You felt your stomach twirl. ”I just don’t…” you started before falling short on words, air, courage…  You looked away from them, resting your eyes on one of the many bookshelf’s surrounding you. You sighed before mustering up som grit. ”I don’t think I could have continued to only be your friend after what happened.” you spoke. ”It would have been too difficult and I didn’t want to be… just your friend.” you continued. You huffed to yourself. ”I know, it’s selfish of me. I know that.” you added. ”And I’m sorry.” you finished. Sebastian felt as if he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. It felt as if something clawed within him, wanting out. ”It is selfish.” he spoke, his voice low.

You turned your head towards Sebastian as soon as you heard him charge against you where you sat. It felt as if your heart leaped up into your throat and you barely had time to catch your breath before his hands cupped your face as he leaned down, crashing his lips against yours. It took a few seconds before you caught up to what was happening and you reached up to place your hands on top of his as you completely melted into his mouth. His tongue was silky-smooth against yours, hot and humid. Your lips moved hungrily against each other, barely pausing for air. You whined against his lips, wanting more, all of him, completely. You could never let him go, you thought. You'd never tread far from them ever again. I promise, you thought, pleading a deal with the gods . The smell of him — musky, herby and slightly citrusy — ingrained itself into your brain. He groaned quietly against you and the sound of him reveberated through your entire body. Movements grew sloppy after some time, lips moving quickly, famished — both of you grew desperate, having waited so-so long. Lost in the moment, Sebastian tried to pull you closer to him, wanting you to completely dissolve into each other. You whimpered quietly against his lips before you gasped quite aggressively, pulling away from the kiss. You wailed as your wound screamed at you. Sebastian released his tight grasp, looking mortified. ”I’m sorry.” he panted in front of you. ”I didn’t mean to.” he mumbled between breaths. You could merely place a hand on his arm as you tried to steady yourself in the pain that coursed through your body. 

Suddenly Ominis interfered. ”Perhaps it’s best if we take it a little easy for now? Hm?” he spoke softly. 

[stickyspeckledlight]

I…I just had a thought. So we know how Aven’s shield also provide 50% eff res at lvl 10, right? That got me thinking:

YOU COULD RUN LIKE. AN ENTIRE PARTY OF BROKEN KEEL OR SOMETHING.

I’m not sure how good it’s be, esp compared to other dps planar (assuming a full fua team, you could just run glamoth on ratio and topaz), but like. If you can pull it off, THAT’S 40% FREE CRDMG FOR THE ENTIRE TEAM. AND IT’LL BASICALLY BE UNCONDITIONAL BECAUSE AVEN’S SHIELDS WONT EVER GO DOWN. The only other planar set that does that is Sigonoia, but you need to kill enemies for that, and it’s only really good for Pure Fiction. Plus you have to deliberately farm for that; I’m sure plenty of us have plenty of keel relics, and will continue to get keel artifacts because that plus the basic atk one are really good to farm.

anyway. If anyone who is willing to do the math comes up, let’s see what sort of dps increase we’re talking here. I am very eager to hear ppl’s thoughts on this.

[charlotteswallet]

My Aventurine build, relics and planet ornament guide 😇🙏 (maybe beginner friendly but tbh idk anymore);

For relics, i use 2pc knight of purity palace and 2pc ashblazing grand duke and for the planet ornaments i use 2pc inert salsotto

Though, i am building my aventurine as a sub-sustain for dr ratio, so you can switch the 2pc ashblaxing grand duke and inert salsotto with a 4pc knight of purity set and 2pc broken keel or the belobog of the architects if you want a full tank build

For my sub-sustain build, i use a crit dmg body and a def% feet. For the planet ornaments, i use an imaginary dmg sphere and a def% rope. Again, you can switch the crit dmg body and imaginary dmg sphere with def% ones if you want a tank build.

This is what my aventurine build looks like 😋 keep in mind that you should try to focus on crit dmg and def, and NOT crit rate bc one of his traces increases his crit rate by a LOT like its honestly kinda ridiculous, so you dont really need to focus on crit rate a lot

Edit:

My relic stats 😋 bc @mintkookievv asked 🫶

My body and feet are pretty bad lmao

Been trying to farm some more but i dont have a lot of luck when im relic farming 😭😭😭

[a-teacup-of-golden-cracks]

Rate my builds also I'm proud of my account and have nowhere else to share them lmao

I am mostly f2p (only ever bought the season passes)

For relic sets:

DHIL is E0, has 4 piece wastelander set, Crit Rate Chest and ATK boots, 2 piece Rutilant with ATK rope IMG damage orb. This man has single handedly halved the time that sim universe takes me, gods propagation DHIL is strong

Bronya I got really fucking lucky with, shes E2S1, almost every 50 I lost was to her. Her and Seele turned the story into a damn joke once I had them, didn't matter who else was on the team really. She has 4 Musketeer rn. I just wanted speed really, I might switch to hackerverse set at some point but like,,,, she is amazing as is and it's a lot of investment for not much gain, plus she'd likely lose a lot of her crit dmg because of substats. Regardless I have her with crit dmg chest and Speed boots, 2 piece screwllum for extra crit dmg (I got two really high crit dmg substat pieces that didn't work for anyone else because screwllum) with energy regen rope and defense orb.

Luocha is E0S1, has 4 piece musketeer with healing up chest and speed boots, 2 piece broken keel with energy regen rope and def orb. I don't think there's been a single time that a team he's been on has had a member killed after I fully leveled him and I am super happy the one five star I got attracted to and saved for ended up being amazing in game lmao

Seele is E0, has 4 piece genius set with ATK boots and crit rate chest, 2 piece glamor with ATK rope and quantum damage orb. Got her very early and she's never stopped ripping and tearing everything in sight, high level MOC gets two rounded by her

Jingliu is E0, has 4 piece snow set (i forgor the name) with crit dmg chest and ATK boots that I can switch to speed if the situation calls, and 2 piece salsotto with ATK rope and ice DMG orb. I swap her lightcone with DHIL's depending on who is in MOC

[the-astral-express-archive]

Honkai: Star Rail Relic Sets (17/?) | Planar Ornaments

Rutilant Arena

Taikiyan Laser Stadium

Taikiyan's Arclight Race Track

Broken Keel

Insumousu's Whalefall Ship

Insumousu's Frayed Hawser

[merge-conflict]

I suppose a tense and fraught chapter about the parade job where V is trying not to keel over and die is a good a place as any to drop my personal headcanons on input peripherals that don't involve an actual keyboard. Actually I have a lot of thoughts about the different kinds of i/o available and who uses them and when, and what their limitations are, but they're not yet coherent.

Basically: V has the ability to control and interact with the computer slotted into her head without speaking, typing, or gesturing, but it's really kind of a bitch to operate if you're still piloting your body in meatspace and not a netrunner chair. Considering how the relic deals with two brains that have adapted to very different kinds of cyberware (Johnny's arm v. V's network proprioception for instance) and how that complicates a theoretical soul-powered slap fight is also Very Interesting to me.

[rubywolf0201]

I swear talking to Gallagher is just so funny because even if he revealed himself to be the mastermind of Death, he sends you text messages like nothing has happened lol. (Compared to Tingyun sadly where I do wish she could’ve send you daily text messages regardless if she is revealed to be Phantylia or not)

Speaking of…

I decided to change the Talia Planar Set to Broken Keel cause ever since the Relic Recommendation for him came out, I decided it’s best if I build his Effect RES. (And I also decided that all support and sustain units (Harmony, Abundance and Preservation and to some extent Nihility) should use the Broken Keel set for the most part)

[peggyrose19]

Hold Me Closer

Here have some Vaincre St. Tweedle, because yes I did in fact take the two scenes and like 10 total lines of dialogue between the two in canon and turn it into 4.1k fic why do you ask. I also wrote the entire thing in a week. It’s fine. @hecksee all done darling please enjoy :)

characters belong to the lovely @lumosinlove​

Disclaimer that this fic is 18+

Luke’s hat was a familiar weight on Saint’s head. He reached up a hand to touch the brim, running his fingers along the worn fabric there he knew to be a faded blue. Luke sat beside him, shoulders pressed together, not looking at him but not pulling away either. Saint raised his beer to his lips, taking another sip as he glanced at Luke from the corner of his eye. 

He glowed amber in this light, Saint noted. Strands of his hair looked red. A trick of the light, maybe. Those brown eyes were fixed on Percy across the table, and he was frowning. Then again Luke was always frowning. Especially at Saint. But sometimes not. Recently… recently Luke had been frowning less. Saint wasn’t sure what to do with that.

There was a stirring in Saint’s stomach that seemed to surface these days anytime he looked too hard at his friend and teammate. He didn’t know why it had started now; objectively, he’d always found Luke beautiful. Objectively, he’d always liked him. Or maybe not always. But long enough. So why did he want Luke now? What had changed in the last few weeks that had stayed buried for the years before? 

Maybe it was Black and Lupin, and all the support they’d received. All the hate they’d so artfully ignored. Or the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, this could be possible now. That he had a shot. Maybe he was done being scared. 

“Hey Tweedle,” Saint leaned over to speak low in Luke’s ear. The man hummed in response, tilting his head closer to Saint, even as his gaze stayed on the others. “Come with me?”

“Where?” was Luke’s reply, somehow curious and grumpy at the same time. 

“Just come on.”

Saint could feel his pulse in his throat as he stood, Luke following suit. 

“Need some air,” he offered the other guys with a quick smile. They accepted the answer easily.

Saint could feel Luke’s gaze on his back as he threaded through the crowded bar to the door. He hadn’t exactly been lying about needing some air; he had always found bars ever so slightly suffocating, no matter how few people there may be. And tonight it was packed. 

As the door shut behind them, Saint took a deep breath of the cool autumn air. It was refreshing, even as he shivered slightly in his thin t-shirt. Luke followed him around the building without a word, his silence a heavy presence at Saint’s side. 

“So.” Luke leaned casually against the brick exterior of the building next door, shadows dancing across his face. They were partly hidden like this, secluded in a tiny back alleyway. “Why are we out here?”

Saint just shrugged, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from Luke. They stood close, close enough for Saint to see the hint of green in Luke’s right eye, that little speck that always drove him crazy. Even in the dim light of a flickering street lamp, he could see the green, an anchor among a sea of brown. His expression was set, lips tugged down, but then again Luke was always frowning. 

Faintly, somewhere in the back of his mind, Saint knew this was a bad idea. The two of them. Luke was Saint’s best friend. They played in the NHL, on the same team. But he liked Luke, more than he’d liked anyone else before. He wanted to be near him, wanted him as he was. He wanted more than just his friendship.

It was then Saint realized they stood close enough he could feel Luke’s breath on his skin, the warmth emanating from his skin. Luke’s gaze darted to his lips then back up, searching Saint’s face. His expression was open and unguarded, the opposite of what Saint was used to. And yet it felt familiar still to stand before Luke like this, see the curiosity on his face, the dark curl falling across his forehead. Unthinkingly Saint reached out and brushed it behind Luke’s ear. 

Luke caught his hand before he could drop it, slim fingers wrapping around his wrist. Saint could feel Luke’s pulse through his warm skin, quick and light. He watched Luke’s breath hitch, caught in his chest. They stood there, watching, the tension electric around them. It felt as though even the air held its breath as they stared at each other, holding on, frozen to the spot. Luke’s hair fell into his face again.

Slowly, so slowly it felt like moving through molasses, Saint pushed his hair back again with the other hand, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. Still, neither said a word. Luke just looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes, just a hint of a smile playing at his lips, and Saint wanted to taste. 

He ducked down and pressed their lips together and Luke didn’t pull away. Instead Luke just pulled him closer, pulled their bodies flush together, falling against the wall and letting it support them both. His arm wrapped around Saint’s back, their hands still clutched together, and Saint held on for dear life, afraid that if he let go Luke would only disappear on him again. He let Luke pull the air from his lungs, all the longing and wanting from his heart. He let himself fall. 

It was hours or maybe only minutes later that they pulled apart, gasping for breath. Luke’s eyes shone even in the dim light, his cheeks flushed pink, his lips wet. Something about Luke seemed to take away all his self-preservation, for Saint didn’t stop himself from running a gentle finger across Luke’s lips, wiping away the moisture as careful eyes watched him. He couldn’t read Luke’s expression like this, wanted to know all the thoughts running through his mind. They seemed easier to manage than his own tangled thoughts. 

“Saint,” Luke whispered as he lowered his hand. 

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

Saint fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut as the soft question squeezed at his heart. Luke sounded so sad, so confused. His expression stayed steady, but his voice was quiet, lonely. 

“Because I wanted to,” he answered finally, looking anywhere but Luke’s face. 

Gentle fingers touched his chin, lifting their gazes back together. Luke looked impossibly gentle then, all his sharp edges and cross frowns brushed over with a soft smile and warm eyes. Saint wanted both sides, wanted all of it. He loved seeing Luke fierce and aggressive on the ice, loved the set of his jaw and the darkness in his gaze. But, standing there at night, outside a crowded bar with the stars winking overhead, he fell in love with the gentleness too and the care in his touch. 

“Hey, kiss me again,” Luke said.

“You sure?”

He scoffed. “Since when do you ask?”

“Since it’s you.”

“Sappy,” Luke murmured, before he was kissing Saint again, warm and solid and strong, kissing the thoughts right from his mind, grounding Saint in the present and making him all too aware of the want burning a hole in his chest.

“Tweedle,” Saint said against his lips. Luke hummed and merely kissed his cheek, teeth scraping along his jawbone, making Saint’s body shiver involuntarily. “Luke,” he tried again. “Please. I want you, I want-” But Saint lost his train of thought as Luke bit at the junction of his neck and shoulder, just hard enough to sting, before soothing the pain with his tongue. Then again, on the underside of his jaw. Saint knew it would leave a mark by morning and he reveled in the thought. 

“Let me take you home,” Luke murmured. “Please.” 

“Yes,” Saint gasped, it was all he could say. He had wanted Luke for so long, yet it had crept up on him, seemingly without notice. If he thought back now, it seemed so obvious. In hindsight, he’d been falling for his goalie for months, maybe even years. He’d just chosen to ignore it.

“Please, take me home,” Saint said. 

Luke was quiet on the drive, but he kept a hand on Saint’s thigh, rubbing the exposed skin just above his knee. The radio played, though Saint couldn’t say what. He was far too focused on Luke’s hand on his body, his gaze still fixed determinedly on the road. Every once in a while, Luke’s fingers swept beneath the hem of his shorts, causing a thrill through Saint’s body. 

Neither moved after Luke turned the car off in his driveway. His house was nice, though Saint had been there before. A thick silence filled the car, hovering somewhere between thrilling and awkward. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Luke asked quietly, breaking the silence. His hand still rested on the gear shift, a gold ring adorning his thumb, a Rangers’ blue stone embedded in it. Saint had never noticed it before. 

Saint nodded. “Yes.” 

A flash of a smile. “Come on then.”

Saint swallowed hard and followed Luke inside. 

He watched quietly as Luke unlocked the door, dropping his bag by the door and his keys on a small plate on the counter. He shed his jacket, hanging it on a hook and glancing back at Saint. Luke stepped towards him, backing them up until Saint’s back hit the wall. But Luke didn’t touch him, didn’t say anything. They stood together much like they’d stood in that alley, breaths apart, the seconds stretching between them.

Saint didn’t know who moved first, but then they were kissing, Luke pushing him against the wall, pulling their bodies flush together. He arched into Luke’s touch, silently begging for more, Luke complying easily. They moved well together, Saint thought deliriously, working Luke’s lips apart and licking into his mouth, tugging a groan from his throat. He wanted more, wanted all of it, anything Luke was willing to give him. He wouldn’t take more than he was given, not this time. 

Luke only pushed harder, his hands sliding down Saint’s chest. He pushed Saint’s t-shirt up easily, finally touching bare skin. Saint thought he may just combust right there at the feel of Luke touching him, so purposeful and careful.

“Luke, wait,” Saint panted, and he stopped immediately. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to take you right here, and as much fun as I’m sure that would be-” Luke just raised an eyebrow at that. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Luke laughed, bright and loud, and Saint could’ve lived his whole life with that sound in his ears. It was better than any song, any cheering crowd. He couldn’t help his smile as soft brown eyes met his, alight with mischief and joy, so unlike the intense focus Saint usually found there. 

Luke smiled and kissed him softly. “C’mon then.” 

Saint followed Luke towards his bedroom, their hands tangled together. Luke flicked the lamp on by his bed and tugged Saint down with him. Saint let himself collapse, boneless, on top of Luke, trusting him to take his weight. Luke was warm and solid beneath him; it would have almost felt sweet had he not been able to feel Luke’s erection pushing against his thigh. 

He looked warm beneath the lamp's yellow light, inviting. That little smile played on his lips, one Saint had never seen before. Luke looked confident in a way Saint had never seen him, comfortable and secure in himself. It was intoxicating, seeing that confidence, knowing it was focused on him. It made everything feel sharper, brought to light just what was happening between them. 

Saint desperately wanted to touch, and so he did, pushing aside the collar of Luke's shirt and mouthing at his collarbones. Luke had already left his mark on Saint and now he wanted the same, wanted Luke to wake in the morning with the colors from Saint's mouth on him. He wanted to see the purple and red and blue in the morning and know it was him that did that, it was him that made Luke look that way. He wanted to take Luke apart with his teeth and his hands, until he was capable of nothing more than moaning Saint's name. He wanted more than he ever had and he didn't know when that wanting started, but now that it had he didn't think he could ever let it go.

“Saint,” Luke groaned, and he grinned sharply. 

“Something wrong Tweedle?” 

“No playing,” he panted, looking up with hazy eyes. “Please.” 

“Thought you liked it when I played.” And oh did Saint know the effect that would have on him. He couldn't help a smirk as Luke groaned and rolled his eyes. 

“You fucker.” 

“Well-”

“I swear to god if you finish that sentence I'm kicking you out right now.” 

Saint smiled widely and kissed him, softening that surly glare immediately. “Will you let me take your clothes off now?” he whispered into Luke's jaw. 

“God I thought you'd never ask.” 

The words were barely out of Luke's mouth before Saint was tugging his shirt up, Luke awkwardly helping to pull it over his head. Saint tossed it to the ground without a second glance. No, his gaze was caught by the expanse of bare skin now before him, tan and muscular and finally he was allowed to look and touch. He'd seen Luke in the locker room hundreds of times, but he wasn't allowed to look in there, wasn't allowed to want. It hadn't stopped him of late, but here, in the privacy of Luke's own bedroom, he didn't have to hide his lust. And he could look for as long as he pleased. 

“You…” he breathed, running his hands down Luke's chest. He arched into the touch. “You are so goddamn beautiful.”

Luke didn't answer, but he opened his eyes and watched, want clear in his gaze. Saint kissed down his chest, and he could feel Luke's breaths heaving in his lungs, could feel his quick heartbeat. His breath caught for a moment as Saint kissed his pectoral muscle, tongue flicking over his nipple. Luke arched into the touch as Saint traveled lower, licking and biting and kissing. 

He found a small tattoo on his right hip, two neat lines of cursive script Saint but seen many times before but had never been able to read in full. Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it. Saint ran a gentle finger across the words. 

“What does it mean?” he asked. 

“It's uh, it's not exactly a happy story,” Luke warned. Saint just shrugged. Luke smiled, a bit sad. “It’s from Frankenstein. My dad’s favorite book. I got it after he died.” 

“Oh.” Saint wasn’t sure what to do with that. Although he supposed he had been warned. 

“I did warn you.” 

“Stop reading my mind,” Saint frowned. 

“Yeah. Okay.” Luke's voice sounded strained. “As enjoyable as this conversation is, your hand is on my dick and if you don't do something about that soon I'm going to just do it myself.”

Saint could only laugh at that, after a moment of stunned silence. He always found himself in awe of Luke, at how he could switch the mood of a room in a heartbeat. He stayed quiet a lot of the time, making his words that much more invaluable. Luke craved his words the way he craved water.

“I'm going to take your pants off now,” Saint said when he stopped laughing. 

“Thank you so much for informing me,” Luke said dryly, and Saint laughed again. The laughter caught in his throat as he undid the button of Luke's jeans and slid the zipper down. Luke pressed his hips up into Saint's touch, his ass lifting off the mattress. 

“Faster, c'mon,” he groaned. 

“So impatient.” 

But Saint tugged the jeans over strong thighs obediently, uncovering the delicate ink he knew he'd find on Luke's right thigh. 

“You gonna tell me about this one too?” he asked while throwing his pants to the side. Luke was left in just his boxers, straining against the thin fabric. Saint ran a hand over the bouquet of flowers so carefully drawn on Luke's skin, following it with his tongue. Luke jerked under him. 

“For my mom,” Luke panted. “Now ask about the snake and anchor another time, would you?” 

Saint looked up at him with a smirk. “Well the snake I've seen but where's the anchor?” 

“Ankle. And that was so not the point.” 

Saint just shrugged. Luke reached up for him then, tugging him down by the waist. Saint laughed as he fell, catching himself with his arms bracketing Luke's head. The movement pressed Saint's thigh between Luke's legs, and he could feel the rumble of a low moan in Luke's chest. Saint kissed him recklessly, unable to stop himself. Luke melted into the mattress and let him. He let Saint grab his wrists and hold them above his head, pressing their bodies flush together. 

“Will you take your goddamn clothes off now?” Luke panted into Saint's mouth. 

“Happily.”

Luke whined when Saint stood up, but it was momentary. Saint stripped his shirt and pants off quickly, standing bare before Luke in the golden lamp light.

“Fuck me,” Luke breathed, though whether it was an instruction or an exclamation Saint couldn’t be sure. “C’mere.”

Saint clambered over Luke's body, straddling his hips, bracketing his shoulders in with his arms. Luke's hands went to his hair and he let them, let Luke tug at his hair and bury his hands in it. 

“You still have your socks on, weirdo,” Luke muttered. 

“Really, that’s what you comment on? So do you.”

“Touché.” 

Luke wrapped his arms around Saint’s back then, fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders. Saint tangled their feet together, letting his full weight fall on Luke and press them together until there wasn’t so much as an inch of space between them. Luke grabbed one of his hands, holding on tight, and Saint nearly wanted to cry at the desperate pressure there, the silent don’t go anywhere. Saint just squeezed back. 

Luke surprised him then by flipping them over, pushing Saint back into the mattress. Those strong thighs bracketed Saint’s hips, pushing down into him, pulling the breath from his lungs. It was a delicious, searing pressure, and his body screamed for more.

“Fuck me,” Luke breathed, a request this time. “Please.”

Saint grinned and rolled them back over. He loved the way the two of them worked together, the way they pushed and pulled like the ocean tide, giving and taking and giving some more. Saint would give Luke anything he asked for. 

“Do you have-”

“Bottom drawer.” Luke waved vaguely at his bedside table and Saint couldn’t help but smile. 

The moment he sat up again, Luke kissed him again, deep and greedy. Saint pushed his boxers down without breaking their kiss, and then Luke was bare before him, warm and safe and real. 

“God, you…” Saint trailed off. 

Saint had never seen Luke like this before, laid bare and turned on, cheeks flushed and eyes closed, smile hazy and wanting. He liked it, liked having Luke under his hand like this. As he began working Luke open, he wondered why it had taken so long. 

“Bash,” Luke whispered, and that jolted Saint from his thoughts. He hadn’t heard Luke use his real name in years, possibly not since they’d first met. It sounded sweeter in this light, far more intimate.

“Why’d you call me that?” he asked softly, not stopping his hand. Luke groaned.

“It’s your name, isn’t it?” How he managed to joke in that moment, Saint would never know.

“Yeah, but… Well, no one’s called me Bash in ages.” 

Luke blinked up at him. “Was it okay?”

Saint could only smile. “Do it again.” 

Saint added a second finger and Luke groaned his name, hips pushing up into his hand. He hunched down and pressed a kiss to Luke’s hip, the pretty, painful words tattooed into his skin, a memory Luke would always carry with him. 

“Bash, please,” Luke whined when Saint crooked his fingers. He just smiled and pulled away. Luke whined again at the loss of contact. “Saint.” 

Saint grinned as Luke looked up at him, panting. He was flushed from his cheeks to his chest, gorgeous and glowing. He didn’t look away, couldn’t, as he slowly pressed in, watching Luke’s face so carefully. Luke’s eyes slipped shut at the sensation, his head falling back against the pillow.

“Open your eyes,” Saint whispered. Luke did. His pupils were blown, gaze hazy, but he looked straight at Saint, smiling even as he gasped for breath, even as he arched his back and their hips met. 

Saint could barely breathe as he moved, Luke a tight, warm heat around him, his body sweaty and familiar. He kissed Luke’s sternum, tasting the salt on his skin. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Luke’s hands were in his hair again, buried deep in his curls, not tugging but rather just holding him there, holding the two of them together, in place.

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Luke groaned. Saint looked at him sharply.

“You have?”

He scoffed playfully. “Don’t look so surprised.”

“I am surprised.” 

Luke looked up at him. “Saint if you don’t know how much I want you, you clearly haven’t been paying attention.”

Saint stopped moving entirely. Luke just watched him.

“You really didn’t know?” Saint shook his head silently. “Now you do, I guess.”

Still reeling, Saint started moving his hips again, pulling another moan from Luke’s pretty lips. He looked ethereal in this light, strands of hair spilling across the white pillowcase, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, tan skin glowing. Saint's chest warmed at the thought that only he got to see Luke like this, taken apart in the safety of his bedroom, giving himself wholly over to Saint to do as he pleased. It did funny things to his heart he didn't want to think about yet. 

Luke groaned his name beneath him, crying out a warning as he came. Saint held him through it, kissing the gasps and whispers right from Luke's lungs. He stayed still as Luke clutched at his back, holding him in place, begging silently. 

“Luke,” Saint groaned out and he too was coming, buried deep inside Luke. Luke, who whispered his name so softly, lips at his temple, hands smoothing down his sweaty back. Luke, who held him in place when he went to pull out, keeping them together, as close as two people could be, breaths mingling as they slowly came down. 

Saint could feel the breaths slowing in Luke's chest, the rise and fall beneath him becoming more even. Luke brushed sweaty blond curls from Saint's face, gently, as if Saint were something precious, fragile, about to break. Oddly, it soothed him, the soft care. He relaxed into him, Luke taking his weight without a sound, head falling onto his chest. They were both sweaty and sticky, desperately in need of a shower, but neither moved or made a sound, reveling in the peaceful quiet. Saint let his eyes slip shut and gave himself up to Luke's gentle touch. 

Luke pulled another orgasm from him that night with just his fingers and tongue, teasing and touching and kissing, bringing Saint right to the brink and keeping him there, a small mischievous smile playing at his lips in the soft light. When Saint swallowed him down in return, in the early hours of the morning, it took mere moments before Luke was crying out, hands clutching at Saint’s shoulders as he came. 

They lay together in Luke’s bed as the sun came up, tangled and sticky and sated, hovering somewhere between awake and asleep. But, tired as he was, Saint couldn’t tear his gaze away from the picture on Luke’s dresser. It was of the two of them at a party, nearly a year ago. He remembered it being taken. Luke’s arms were around him and he was smiling, for once; his faded blue hat sat on Saint’s own head like it always did, hiding wild blond curls. 

They looked happy in that photograph. Saint didn’t know where it was from, how Luke had gotten it. Nor did he know why it sat framed in his bedroom. It tugged at his heart in a way he couldn’t quite discern, but he couldn’t quite seem to stop. He couldn’t help but wonder how long it had sat there, displayed, for Luke to glance over at every day. 

Saint thought back to Luke’s words, the low admission of wanting him, for weeks, months, maybe even years. He wondered how he’d missed the signs. He wondered if he really cared. 

The picture on the dresser was a happy one, the two of them smiling as friends, teammates. But maybe after all of this, Luke would let Saint replace it. Maybe Luke would let him take a new picture, of the two of them smiling as something more than friends, lovers or maybe even partners. Maybe Luke would let him in. And maybe Saint would let him.

[lumosinlove]

Hi hi!!

As Vaincre begins to wind down (couple chapters left!!), I am getting so so excited to start posting Breakaway.

And…I am hoping to post it on Patreon!

This would be a big decision to make—I know many are looking forward to Breakaway especially, and I know that not everyone has the ability to partake in Patreon.

I ADORE this community!!! It is one of the most fun, cherished parts of my life. I’ll never be able to thank you all enough for your support. You’ve allowed me to grow as a writer! I’m now looking to take the next step as an author. I not only want to keep dedicating time to these characters and this universe, I’d like to be able to dedicate more time. A Patreon would go so far in helping me achieve that!

For anyone who doesn’t know, Breakaway is the Sweater Weather prequel! It follows Finn and Logan as they fall in love over the years they were in college together. The story will start at the first time they meet, the first time they’re on the ice together, the first inkling of there being something more between them…We’ll see them through adventures, injury, and heartache. We’ll end…Well I won’t tell you that yet :)

Don’t worry—Tumblr/Ao3 would still be going strong.

Here’s everything that is coming up on Tumblr & Ao3:

Thread of Gold

Zombie!au (Working title: KEEPSAKE)

Relic Keel (probably a bit of a re-write)

12 Days of Winterfics

& other stories to come!

I’d love to know who might be interested in subscribing to Patreon.

Here are what the tiers would most likely look like:

TIER ONE: $2/month:

General support

Posts about the real hockey world

Daily headcanons

Writing snippets

TIER TWO: $5/month: Everything in tier one plus:

Two chapters of Breakaway every month

Exclusive short stories

Exclusive artwork

TIER THREE: $10/month: Everything in the first two tiers plus:

Posts about my writing craft and process

Monthly Q&As

More surprises that I’ll come up with! I’ve always enjoyed evolving new things to create, and seeing what you all enjoy is a big part of that.

If you could please send me an ask if you’d be interested in subscribing! <3 <3 <3

As always, I’m so so grateful for all of your support over this last decade—wow I can’t believe it’s been that long!! I wouldn’t be where I am as a writer or person without ANY of you—thank you thank you.

Love, Haz

[boomermania]

last post for the night before i sleep but calling basil a fish person is probably a massive insult towards him considering he came from the planet mentioned in the broken keel relic set

[wynterrolls]

【Honkai: Star Rail Build TLDR】

⚔ Natasha

For Healer Build (Recommended!)

[Relic Set 1 = Optimal Relic Set] → 4pc Passerby of Wandering Cloud → 2pc Broken Keel

[Relic Set 2 = Biggest Heals] → 2pc Passerby of Wandering Cloud → 2pc Longevous Disciple → 2pc Fleet of the Ageless

** Why Broken Keel? Explained here.

** Healing amount comparison explained here.

Main Stat (Pick one of the two sets) [Full HP set = Biggest heals] (Estimate Total HP = 6.8k to 7.7k+) > Head = HP (constant) > Hand = ATK (constant) > Body - Outgoing Healing Boost (OHB) > Boots - HP% > Sphere - HP% > Rope - HP% [Get-her-ult-fast set = Lower heals, faster Ultimate] (Estimate Total HP = 5k to 5.6k+) > Head = HP (constant) > Hand = ATK (constant) > Body - Outgoing Healing Boost (OHB) > Boots - SPD > Sphere - HP% > Rope - Energy Regeneration Rate (ERR)

Sub Stat > HP% or HP > Speed > Effect RES

Things to Consider ➤ Without ERR rope: → using S1 Post-Op LC = you need 4 basic atks before you get her ult up. → using other abundance LC = you need 5 basic atks before you get her ult up. ➤ With ERR rope: → S1 Post-Op LC doesn't need ERR rope. S5 Post-Op LC needs ERR rope and 2pc Sprightly Vonwacq to get her ult fastest, but the heals are lowest. You only need 3 basic atks. → using other abundance LC with ERR rope = you need 4 basic atks before you get her ult up. ➤ Optional: Build her with 120+ SPD to get the atk buff from Fleet of the Ageless set effect. ➤ Optional: Build her with at least 30% effect RES to get the crit dmg buff of Broken Keel set. Things to Remember > Her skill could cleanse/remove debuff from an ally. It is only available when you unlock her A2 trace - Soothe.

Lightcones

* Lightcone list is from the HSR General Build. Link below in the post. (They did the calcs, so now we have the weapon rankings.)

1. Time Waits for No One 5☆ [S1] 2. Post-Op Conversation 4☆ [S1] 3. Warmth Shortens Cold Nights 4☆ [S1~5] 4. Shared Feeling 4☆ [S1] 5. Cornucopia 3☆[S5]

** Quid Pro Quo 4☆[S1~5] *Utility LC → gives energy to team

Long Explanation Below

— For Healer Build —

Natasha's healing scales off of HP so I'm going to calculate the estimated HP threshold the builds would give her at max lv 80/80.

— Total HP Calculation —

Natasha's Max Base HP = 1164 HP

+HP% from traces = +28% HP > from Lv 1 = +4% HP > from Lv 80 = +8% HP > from A3 = +4% HP > from A4 = +6% HP > from A5 = +6% HP +HP% from Relic and Ornament Sets > 4pc Passerby of Wandering Cloud = no HP passive, but gives OHB. OHB isn't reflected in her HP threshold. > 2pc Fleet of the Ageless = +12% HP +HP% from Relic and Ornament Pieces > each 5* HP Main stat Relic piece = +43.2% HP > each 5* HP Sub stat Relic piece ⇢ Max relic lvl is +15. Every 3 levels, the substats are either enhanced or added. ⇢ Substat roll for HP could be any of these three: 33.8 / 38 / 42 ⇢ Substat roll for HP% could be any of these three: 3.46% / 3.89% / 4.32% ** In the calculation, I'm going to consider the lowest substat as a reflection of RNG pain. This would mean that the value that would come out of the computation would be on lower side and irl HP values more than the estimated values are more likely to happen. Base HP and +HP% from Lightcone Besides the 1164 max HP from Natasha, she could get additional base HP from equipped LC. These base stats could vary from rarity, so to make my life easier, I'm just going to consider the current highest ranking LC for each rarity (not changing the calcs once newer LCs comes out in future tho) and not consider the HP% passive of each lightcone cause I'm lazy and the LC passives are different from each other, which means not all LC gives additional HP%. The LC ranking above was done by other people, so I'm pretty sure they already consider the LC passives in their calculations. ⇢ 5* lightcone = 1270 HP (from Time Waits for No One) ⇢ 4* lightcone = 1058 HP (from Post-Op Conversation) ⇢ 3* lightcone = 952 HP (from Cornucopia) Calculating Estimated Total HP for Each Build > For full-HP set ⇢ Using 5* LC = (1270 + 1164) * (1 + 0.28 + 0.12 + 0.432*3 + 0.0346*6) + 705.5 = 7772.86 HP ⇢ Using 4* LC = (1058 + 1164) * (2.9036) + 705.5 = 7157.30 HP ⇢ Using 3* LC = (952 + 1164) * (2.9036) + 705.5 = 6849.52 HP > For Get-her-ult-fast set ⇢ Using 5* LC = (1270 + 1164) * (1 + 0.28 + 0.12 + 0.432 + 0.0346*6) + 705.5 = 5669.89 HP ⇢ Using 4* LC = (1058 + 1164) * (2.0396) + 705.5 = 5237.49 HP ⇢ Using 3* LC = (952 + 1164) * (2.0396) + 705.5 = 5021.29 HP

Sources

Honkai: Star Rail General Build Guide

Edisonsmathsclub's Energy Requirements Sheet

Relic Sets

Relic Stats

HP Calculation

Natasha Artwork

Uploaded on Patch 1.1

➥ Back to my HSR masterlist.

Update Log

07/20/2023 - Added the update log, artwork source, reformatted source list

07/21/2023 - Added Broken Keel set

[prettyboykatsuki]

fang have u built fu xuan? if u have can u show me her build plzz,, i'm trying to figure out if the relics i gave her are good enough bc i literally don't understand anything or which ones she actually needs </3 🥺🤲🏽

here is my build!!! its a work in progress for sure. i would want her to have more hp and a little bit more speed + effect res. im also planning on replacing her lightcone with the preservation one from hertas store

but this gets the job done for now and she's rlly good!! i'd say she is as good as what u invest in her. she builds primarily on hp so you'll want a lot of that - but it's better to have a balanced build with some defense. i'd reccomend an energy regen rope + hp orb, one defense piece (chest or boots) and one hp piece (chest or boots)

she's a pretty comfortable character to build!!! there's rlly no specific perfect set. you could also use the two piece speed set, the quantam set (tho i dont think dps fu xuan is viable) but this is just what i prefer. some hp and some defense. i think the def reduction set would also be good on her but i haven't farmed it at all lol

for planar set i would use a different set than what i have!! i just put the best pieces i had but i think fleet of the ageless or broken keel would be better.

for substats you rlly just wanna stack a ton of hp and def on her, but effect res is also really good!! she's a simple character to build so don't overthink it.

for lightcones, i just used what i have. we are wildfire is pretty good on her and it's cheap to get. texture of memories from herta is the best option aside from her signature cause she's the only character who can use the effects lmao. landaus choice is decent as well.

hope this helps!!!

[tieflingtareon]

My love, are you the devil? (Oh, call me a devil)

Chapter 21 | Words: 5.5k

Summary: Astarion found himself often surprised by his heroic companion. He had one goal. To become the favoured companion of the group, to earn the Tieflings loyalty, to make Tar'eons strength his own. Yet Tar'eon isn't like the usual target of his manipulations. Despite his naivety, he does not seem gullible. There is something very wrong with their 'leader' to begin with. Astarion isn't sure if he wants to control it or eradicate the threat it posed. But can he really do either when Tar'eon himself seems so...unwaveringly kind?

That devil is getting into his head, while others get into Tar'eons. He doesn't appreciate not having the upperhand after years of being at the disadvantage. He will find a way to make him see.

He is the one he should be listening to. Astarion would make it so, no matter the means.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50668558/chapters/127995079

Despite Astarion's insistence on waiting until morning, he was gone before Tar'eon awoke. He wasn't sure what he was expecting.

He dragged himself out of bed, washed himself, and dressed for the coming adventure of the day. Shadowheart had insisted on going back more than once to the temple, so there was no question about whether or not she was coming. Karlach had insisted on coming too, if only to show support for Shadowheart's beliefs. Anything for the woman she loved.

Seeing as Astarion was nowhere to be found, he asked Gale if he wanted to join them, but he looked like he hadn't slept a wink.

"I'm afraid I may have to sit this one out, if you want me in tip top shape for the grand battle with Ketheric." His skin was a ghastly shade, the veins in his neck and his cheek looking a bruised colour.

"I see...If you'd feeling unwell, please, go see Isobel. She's a divine cleric." He insisted, but Gale waved his hand.

"No, no, I'll- I've had worse days. I assure you. It's simply my heart acting up." Tar'eon was about to protest when he heard another voice from behind.

"Karlach said you were looking for an extra hand, I'm geared up and ready to- Hells." Wyll looked at Gale with a pained expression. "You look ghastly."

"Why, thank you. Your horns are looking as lovely as ever, Wyll." Gale drawled and Wyll winced. He deserved that he supposed.

"I was just telling him to visit Isobel, but he won't." Tar'eon sighed.

"I-" Wyll pursed his lips, looking like he was considering his choices before he sighed. "I'll stay behind. I'll make sure he doesn't keel over while you're gone."

"Excuse me, I can take care of myself just fine. I've lived with this heart condition for years!"

"Well, don't go making your years shorter by not taking it easy." Wyll gave him a warning look before stepping around Tar'eon to place a hand on Gale's shoulder. "Go. I'll take care of this one. Worry about finding the relic. I'm sure Lae'zel would gladly join you, if you can find her."

"If I can find her?"

"I saw her walk out last night, and she did not return before I went to bed, which was fairly late. That's all I know. I doubt she'd gotten herself kidnapped or killed. If anyone dared, she would have returned with their head by now." Wyll said with certainty.

"Maybe she's training. She likes to do so at night. She says it's quieter. Easier to focus." Tar'eon frowned thoughtfully. "I'll see if I can find her."

"I hope you do. Come on." Wyll turned to Gale and ushered him up the stairs. "Back to bed with you. You were reading all night, weren't you?"

"Can you blame me? Imagine if I died before finishing one of my tomes? That would be my biggest regret." Gale chuckled wearily, leaning more on Wyll than he probably intended to, but the swordsman had the strength to keep him upright.

Tar'eon watched after them and frowned thoughtfully. He hoped those two worked out what ever was between them...having two pairs of lovers not speaking to each other would cause too much drama in their party. He sighed and went outside to find Lae'zel, and after walking the entire premise, he finally found her in a grouping of bushes far off to the left of the inn.

He was about to say something, considering her state of being half undressed, but anything he had planned to say was stolen when he saw a very large, very familiar figure come out of the bushes too. He stared, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was gaping at the pair as they spoke, Halsin all smiles despite Lae'zels curt words and mannerisms.

Now that he looked closer, she was definitely covered in claw marks. Gods. He had not seen those two coming. Though, if Lae'zel had wanted to sleep with Wyll, he supposed sleeping with Halsin wasn't a large leap to make. The druid certainly looked pleased after their night together.

Tar'eon slowly backed away and jumped when he bumped into someone, familiar icy fingers grasping his waist to steady him.

"Lae'zel of all people...I thought Halsin would prefer somebody less terrifying. Maybe someone more fluffy than scaly."

"I...I suppose." Tar'eon turned to look at Astarion, lips moving wordlessly for a moment. "I...About last night-"

"I've been waiting all morning for you lot to get your things together." He cut him off. "Hurry up. We have a relic to find. I want out of this dreary place before I decide to throw myself to the shadows."

Without giving him a moment to respond, the vampire walked off.

"I...okay." Tar'eon pulled his hair back and pursed his lips.

Find the relic. He would focus on the relic. Then, when they got back...he could finally sit Astarion down and tell him everything. The Urges, the fear, all of it.

Anything he wanted to know, he'd bare it all. His whole soul to the man who had his heart.

****

"Be careful." Tar'eon warned Shadowheart as she took another leap. She had been adamanent about completely the trials of Shar herself after they stumbled upon Lady Shar's spear. This trial was the last one, and Tar'eon stood back, anxious. Shadowheart was intelligent though, using her misty step for the final leap when she realised she would not make it.

She nabbed the last gem and turned back to them.

"I won't be able to make it back across. Meet me back at the Waypoint." Tar'eon nodded and watched her disappear in a flash of purple light.

"You heard the woman." Karlach grinned and smashed her fist to her palm, disappearing with a laugh. Tar'eon glanced at Astarion, who quirked a brow and vanished with a click of his fingers. Tar'eon sighed and followed suit. At the waypoint, Tar'eon did a quick head count.

Karlach was missing.

"Again?" He groaned and vanished to the waypoint outside, nabbing the stroppily walking tiefling before he reappeared with the group. "From now on, Karlach has to buddy with someone if we portal."

Astarion cackled as Karlach flushed.

"I'm not any good magic, alright? I can speak to animals and cast fireball, that's about it." She grumbled. Shadowheart chuckled.

"You're very useful in combat, Karlach."

"You think so?" Karlach smiled shyly, perking up instantly.

"Yes. Very. Come now. This might be my chance." Shadowheart had a shimmer in her eyes, like she couldn't contain her excitement. Finally being of service to her Lady, in her temple. She was more devoted than Tar'eon realised.

Sinking further into the depths of the temple, Tar'eon couldn't help but watch Astarion. He had said little to him since they left the inn. He wished the day would go faster so they could return and finally talk. He hated how quiet it was without Astarion's commentary. It felt wrong. He'd gotten so use to his interjections, his chuckles, the cadence in his voice.

Tar'eon shook his head. He need to focus. Focus on the mission. They had an important job to do. The sooner they killed Ketheric, the sooner the shadow curse would lift. The soon he could kill Cazador. Find Zevlor. Wyll's father. Mol. Get everybody to safety. This mission was a catalyst, a turning point. Whatever they found down here, it would change everything.

So he took a deep breath and put his heart aside. Right now, all he needed was his mind, and his body. It was easier to do then it had been in the beginning of their adventure. Perhaps he was growing detached to the horrors of heroism. Who knew?

As they stepped off the platform, he looked upon the altar and turned to Shadowheart, nodding for her to place the gemstones in their rightful places. They shone as they slipped into their places, and with a rumble, the door opened. He breathed out slowly before inhaling deep and continuing on. The air in the temple felt oppressive if he was honest. He did not feel the comfort Shadowheart felt here. As they continued deeper inside, Tar'eon noticed another sigil and placed his hand to it, the stone flashing a bright purple as it recognised his magic and accepted his passing. He stood back up and came to stand before the pool of water, looking at the statue of Shar with a tilt of his head.

"This must be the last step." Shadowheart spoke with trepidation, but reverence flooding her words as she knelt. "I need to pray. Only by Lady Shar's grace did we even make it this far."

Tar'eon did not kneel with her, but he stayed silent during her prayer out of respect. Karlach stepped forward hesitantly and bowed to the statue, looking unsure. From his knowledge, Karlach did not follow any deities either. Her willingness to accept Shar for Shadowheart's sake was endearing though.

The dark cleric gathered herself back up and stood tall. There was a feeling in the air, the knowledge that once they went forward, there was no going back. Whatever loose ends they had, they had to be forgotten. Tar'eon took another deep breath and waded into the cold water. Though it was a blasphemous thought, he found himself praying for Selune's grace, rather than Shar's, letting the water envelop him.

There was no going back. Once they had the relic, war would be but a long nights rest away.

****

He didn't know when he passed out, it was like a flicker of nothingness before he awoke again, coughing up water despite being bone dry. He looked back at his companions, and found they were all collecting themselves too, Astarion's eyes finally meeting his after so much avoidance. He looked worried for a moment, taking a step forward before they heard the voice above them.

"You did well - better than I would have credited you with. Now hurry along and bear witness to my masterpiece." Balthazar. Dammit, he'd forgotten about him completely. He should have known the man had his own motives, that he'd follow them in. He should have killed him earlier. They couldn't let him get the relic first.

He scrambled to his feet and had to take a moment to steady himself. He felt almost feather light, like the smallest push could send him flying away.

"Quickly. We can't let him beat us to it." Shadowheart said quickly, a scowl on her face as she ran after the man, but they faced a challenge when they reached the edge. Tar'eon looked over the ledge to the rock miles away. There was no way they could make that jump.

"We're stranded!" Karlach was shocked, eyes wide before she gritted her teeth, holding her axe tightly in hand. "I bet I could make it. If only to wipe that smug look off his face."

"This isn't our normal plane. It's the Shadowfell." Shadowheart noted. "I think we could just...go for it."

"Well I won't be volunteering to test that theory." Astarion remarked, looking sceptical of the leap.

"I guess it's times like this I'm supposed to be a leader." Tar'eon sighed and took a few steps back. He sucked in a deep breath.

"What're you doing?" Astarion looked at him in alarm.

"Taking a leap of faith." Tar'eons tail hit the ground like a whip, as if to kick him into gear, and he ran forward, trusting Shadowheart to be correct about the differing of realms physics.

"If he dies, I will kill you and your Goddess!" Astarion snarled at Shadowheart as he fell down, down, feet smashing into rock. It felt almost like he'd been floating. He turned back to the group and ushered them down.

"Threaten Lady Shar again, and feel her wrath." Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at Astarion before following after Tar'eon. Astarion scoffed.

"They're both idiots." He remarked to Karlach who smirked.

"They think we're idiots, you pompous nob." She snorted and jumped, Astarion grumbling before he followed suit. After that, they made quick work of their leaps, each one leaving Astarion feeling a bit sick with nerves if he was honest. Shadowheart continued to recite prayers as they travelled, and he was half tempted to shove her off the path to shut her up. Tar'eons feet finally landed a few meters from Balthazar, his companions following suit, and he was shocked when he looked up to see...a woman? Bound by magic.

"Balthazar. Come to add more bars to my cage?"

Tar'eon didn't need to hear anymore if he was honest. He refused to let an obvious future ally rot in a cage. She hated Balthazar, and likely the Absolutes too. He didn't favour the idea of leaving anyone stuck in a prison. He was pretty sure this was their Nightsong. The one they were supposed to find. Ketheric's weakness.

He'd promised Isobel to find it, find her, and he had. Now, he would fight to free her, and the rest of the shadow lands, Balthazar's army be damned.

He may not be an expert magic user, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve, and he was happy to use all wide range attacks that he could muster up against Balthazar's goons. He thought Balthazar would be harder to beat, but he was just a dead man in a dead mans body. Putting him back in the grave was an easy feat, especially with Karlach's rage and Astarion at his back, Shadowheart to his right blazing through undead fiends with radiant magic.

They'd all sustained some injuries, nicks and cuts, bruises and some swelling, but by the time the hoard was diminished, it was blissfully quiet outside the storm that was the Shadowfell realm.

"Are you alright?" Tar'eon asked quickly to Astarion who had taken an arrow to the thigh, which he had snapped in the heat of the moment to attack back.

"I'm fine." He was panting, grimacing from the pain, but he looked past Tar'eon. "We can deal with it later." He insisted, nodded past him. Tar'eon turned around to face the Nightsong. Who Shadowheart was approaching with a hardened resolve. Shit. Tar'eon had almost forgotten Shadowheart's plans entirely...

"Balthazar has drawn his final rancid breath. A pity it was not my hand that brought it about. Instead, it was you." The Nightsong turned to face Shadowheart head on, contempt in her gaze. "You, who have come to seek the praise of your wicked goddess. You, who have come to drive a dagger through my heart." Her approach was halted by the cage, hands keeping her from straying from it's confines. How lonely it must have been, with only her own company. Tar'eon couldn't imagine survive such a fate. He couldn't imagine still having any hope. The Nightsong didn't seem to have any.

"Not a dagger - a spear. My Lady Shar's spear." There was a conviction in Shadowheart's voice that Tar'eon was not used to. He'd never heard her sound so fanatic yet hollow. This was the not girl he remembered saving from the pod. It was not the girl who adored night orchids and feared wolves above all else. "Her fate is mine to seal. Let me handle this."

This was a Dark Justiciar, a loyal, hollow follower, of Lady Shar, coming to fruition.

"The fate you seal is your own. To be a Dark Justiciar is to turn your heart from everything but loss. You will know no love, no joy - only servitude. Until of course your mistress inevitably discards you." Nightsong stared at Shadowheart, letting her words sink in. "And there is much she does not tell you - a terrible blood price that may extend beyond my own death."

Shadowheart bristled, eyes narrowing at the Nightsong. Tar'eon found himself wordless, unsure what to say to make her see reason. Because she had to see reason. What he do if she didn't? Could he really kill her, in order to save all the lives haunted by the shadows? By Ketheric?

Would he have to? Would she force his hand?

He looked to Nightsong, and he could tell she knew her fate was on a knifes edge. He had to dissuade her, somehow, he had to say something.

"Shadowheart-"

"Shadowheart, don't do this." Karlach stepped forward, eyes wide and fearful. Not for what Shadowheart may do to the Nightsong, but for the woman herself. For what this may do to Shadowheart.

"Please. You can't." To feel no love...no joy...If it was true, Karlach couldn't allow it. She'd been a slave to Zariel for ten, long years. If all Shadowheart would gain from this was a life of servitude - she couldn't let her do it. Not when she wanted Shadowheart to love more than anything. To smile, to laugh - all the good things. She wanted to keep the woman she knew, the woman she loved. She wanted to feel joy with her until the bitter end. To love and be loved until the heat of her engine consumed her completely.

"Don't?" Shadowheart turned to Karlach, shocked by her request. "This is my mistress' will - my life's purpose!" Anger made her voice raw, jagged around the edges. She settled Karlach with a steely gaze. "If I have to step over your corpse to fulfil what Lady Shar asks of me, so be it. Your choice."

Karlach staggered back, the hurt cutting deeper than she thought it would. She stared at Shadowheart in disbelief. Less than an hour ago, she'd been smiling at her, so fond and sweet. Where had she gone?

"I..." Karlach lowered her head. She didn't know to say. "This is wrong...but I can't fight you." She swallowed hard and glared at her. "Do what you must." It wasn't spoken with any kindness or acceptance. Her heart was breaking as it was to watch this.

"Well, well, well. What's that I sense? A spear intended for my heart. Empowered by your goddess, aye - empowered to kill the child of a god!" Nightsongs voice was hoarse as she spoke, and Tar'eon wondered how long it had been since she spoke to another. How much she had screamed in her cage. "Do you know what I am, little assassin? For I know you - a lost child, frightened by wolves in the dark."

"What did you say...?" Shadowhearts voice was nothing but a mere wisp of what it was prior.

"Much has been promised to you, hasn't it? But what has been taken from you? What do you know of your own heart - your own life?" She was getting under his skin. Beneath the cracks of her armour. Karlach could see it. "I sense more in you than you know."

"Whatever you think you know of me won't matter, once I become whom I'm meant to be."

"Don't do it. Don't kill her - she knows something about you. Spare her, and see what she has to say." Karlach pleaded, anything to make Shadowheart see reason.

"This is all I've worked, for all my life!" Shadowheart snapped, turning to the tiefling woman as the spear extended from his hand, glowing faintly. Just one strike would give her everything she'd ever asked for. Would repay her debts to Lady Shar. She would finally have it all. Her dreams would become reality. "Why on earth should I let it all be for nothing?"

"Because I love you!" Karlach's voice cracked, raw with the confession as her hand fell from her chest, trying to convince the cleric to look her in the eye. "And I can't watch you do this to yourself. I can't. It's wrong, and you know it. You're jeopardising everything we've been working for these past few weeks, for a goddess who will take everything you already have! You're risking so many lives...Risking any happiness you could have; no love, no joy? What about the life you could have?" The life we could have, she wanted to say.

She shook her head.

"Sometimes I think the only thing keeping us apart is your devotion to another woman." Karlach managed a strained laugh, but tears sprung up in her amber eyes, slipping down hot cheeks, trying to stifle them.

"Please. Please, don't do this. Don't let Loss consume your life...You don't have be lost anymore. I'll guide you wherever you need. I'm the brightest damn thing out here, in all these shadows. And this old torch isn't dying anytime soon, if I've got a say in it." She knocked against her chest, her iron heart, and smiled at Shadowheart, begging the woman to see reason. To see the heart, as mechanical as it was, that could give her so much more than Shar ever could.

"She's been locked down here for centuries. With nobody. She deserves to be free of her cage. And we're gonna need her, when the time comes to kill Ketheric. We have kill him. You know that, don't you?"

"She's all I've ever known." Shadowheart looked at the spear in her hand, the conflict in her eyes unable to be hidden. "All I've ever trusted. I can't...I can't turn my back on my Lady."

"Hells, I'll be your lady! I am. Know me, trust me, choose me, if you won't choose yourself. Choose to love, to feel joy, with me."

"I told you my dream. You told me you'd support me, that I deserved it, after everything I'd done in the name of Lady Shar." She tried to deflect, tried to keep herself rooted in her conviction. But it was waning. Her faith was crumbling, and it terrified her, to lose the only constant she'd ever had in her life.

"I support your happiness! This will not make you happy, Shadowheart. Working under a cruel hand, it doesn't make anybody happy. Even when you smile and try to push through the worst days, it won't make them better." Her voice broke, speaking from the deepest parts of the hurt that tarnished her soul. "It won't. Please."

Karlach reached her hand out to her, eyes begging her to take it.

"Let your Lady's final loss...be your blind devotion to her."

Shadowheart stared at the woman, looking more frightened that Tar'eon ever remembered her being. She was always so cool and collected...It felt like looking at her as a child again, the fear on her face as wolves closed in. She looked at the spear, holding it in both hands. Then, she closed her eyes, and in that moment, Tar'eon knew she had made her choice.

She gave a yell of defeat as she threw the spear into the chasm below, looking ready to cry as she watched it disappear, lost forever. Any chance of gaining her mistress' favour, of becoming a Dark Justiciar...it was gone. Her goddess would disown her. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to reconcile with her choices. She would not regret. She refused.

A warm hand graced her shoulder, and she turned to look up at Karlach, taking in the expression on her face. She looked...surprised. Like she hadn't expected Shadowheart to choose her. But she had.

She had chosen love, rather than loss.

"Shadow..." Karlach breathed, and she lunged at the woman, grabbing her by the collar of her armour and kissing her hard. She had thought about their night together endlessly, but she never let herself hope. She had been sucked into the delusion that she would gain her mistress' favour and serve her until the end of her time. That there would be no time to give Karlach all she deserved. She hadn't wanted to get her hopes up, not when Karlach was so damn kind.

Karlach wrapped her arms around the cleric and crushed her to her body, heart thrumming and her body growing hotter, but she didn't need to worry about it failing. Not yet.

The kiss broke with a sigh, Shadowhearts pale green eyes meeting fiery amber.

"You're going back to Avernus when this is all over, you hear me?"

"What?" Karlach pulled back with a frown, hurt flashing in her eyes. "I- I told you, I'm not going back-"

"You will." Shadowheart voice held no argument. "You will. And I will come with you. We're going to get your heart back, and you are not going to die on me, you hear me?" Despite her cold tone, her eyes were shiny and wet, her chin threatening to wobble.

"I gave up my everything for you. You promised me your heart." She placed her palm over her chest, the glowing iron heart so hot it burned, but Shadowheart still allowed it to hover. "I swear to you, we will get it back. You will live the life you deserve. And you will live it with me."

Karlach stared down at the cleric in wonder, her own eyes wet. She blinked them away, pulling Shadowheart in and holding her tight. Committing her to memory.

"I...I don't want to die yet. I never did. But I'm still scared. If I go, Zariel will try to take me back. I couldn't live like that again."

"You won't be alone." Shadowheart swore it like an oath. "You will guide me through the shadows, yes, but I will be the sacred flame that burns in your heart - it's ours now. It will never belong to Zariel again."

"Gods, you always know the right thing to say." Karlach laughed wetly, sniffing a little as she pulled back to look at Shadowheart. She loved her with the power of two hearts, and she filled both of them with ease. "I...I'll do it. Okay? If we make it out of this alive...I'll follow you anywhere. Even into the Hells."

Shadowheart smiled, eyes shining as she gently touched her cheek. She turned to the Nightsong, and the heavy truth of her choice weighted on her shoulders.

"Lady Shar will disown me...what will happened to me?"

"Not what will happen - what will you do. Your past is not yet lost. Your future is not yet fixed." Tar'eon watched as the Nightsong knelt before Shadowheart. He looked to Astarion, who looked just as shocked as he was. He quirked a brow.

Did you know Karlach was dying? He wanted to ask. It would be a conversation for later. Why Karlach hadn't told him...He wasn't sure.

"Lay a hand on me in friendship, not-quite-Sharran, and I will fight the battle that had been waiting for me this last century. Then - oh then, we will have much to discuss." Shadowheart hesitated. To lay a hand of friendship onto a child of Selune...it would be the greatest slight against her goddess.

Though...she was no longer her goddess, was she? She was free to live her life as she saw fit. As terrifying of a prospect as that was. She placed a gentle hand to her shoulder, and then, she heard it. The music. The Nightsongs song. They all stepped back as they watched the magic pulsate from the circle that once kept her bound.

"Our Lady of Silver. Hear me! She Who Guides, the Moonmaiden Selune - Mother of the so called Nightsong, the Nightsong is no more!"

Tar'eon had to squint away from the harsh light as it grew brighter and brighter, but despite that, there was a flourishing feeling of peace that came over him. When he looked back to the light, he thought he saw an angel. A real, true, feathery-winged angel.

The Nightsong was a warrior of the heavens. An angel in the flesh.

"I am resplendent." Her voice was like a song, yet firm like a Sergeant. "You have given me a great gift, little warrior. Don't you find it oh-so-curious that you would spurn your Dark Lady? Perhaps you feel a stirring of the truth already." Shadowheart placed her hands on her hips, not wanting the comments on her disobedience so soon.

"But that will come later. There is a battle yet to be fought. You have done what we feared was impossible. You have freed me from a century of sorrow. Your power is great. So too must be your weapon. You must choose what you will wield. And the Moonmaiden will provide. Thus I have said; thus will it be so. Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?" Tar'eon stepped forward, awaiting her command. She held the air of a general, and he couldn't withstand the order to be her soldier.

"To kill Ketheric Thorm." With that, she took off with a grace flap of her wings, and Tar'eon watched her disappear in awe.

"We need to leave. Lady Shar won't stand for us to be here - not after what we did." Shadowheart quickly warned, and Astarion scoffed.

"If Shar is angry, she's being remarkably quiet about it."

"That's what frightens me. She must be angry, yet I don't feel it, or hear it...There's only silence." She sounded lost, hearing nothing at all. "Let's get out of here, please. Whatever's coming, I don't want to be in the heart of the Shadowfell when it finds me. The Nightsong will be headed for Moonrise Towers. We'd better get there, and see what she's unleashed against Ketheric Thorm."

"Good idea." Karlach nodded sharply.

"Oh fun...can we take a nap first? I'm awfully tired. I swear, it's the air here." Astarion tutted before he pointed behind them. "Oh. Portal. That saves us some effort. I don't think we can use the sigils magic down here."

"Come on. If we're lucky, they might hold off battle just one more night so you can get your beauty rest." Tar'eon chuckled and Astarion clicked his tongue as he was ushered towards the portal.

"I'm still mad at you, I'll have you know."

"I promise, I will tell you everything once we get back."

"...Fine. I'm feeling rather generous after that heartfelt display." He gestured to Shadowheart and Karlach behind them before they passed through the portal. Karlach was halfway through herself when Shadowheart gave a bloodcurdling scream of pain, the hold of Karlach's hand slipping away as the portal went black.

"Shadowheart!" Karlach cried and banged on the impenetrable window. Astarion looked at him in alarm and though he wouldn't dare admit it to anyone else, he ran towards the portal to get to their cleric as well, digging his dagger into it futilely in hopes of creating a crack in the magic.

A few agonising moments passed before the portal seemed to come alive again, Shadowhearts body falling through it, as well as a glowing spear, different from Lady Shar's own. She was curled up on the floor, looking like she was in agony as Karlach knelt by her side. They all waited with baited breath before she groaned, sitting up. Her head rested upon Karlach's shoulder, feeling weak.

"I...I thought I was done for. I thought perhaps I might have been dead." She breathed, eyes haunted as she tried to forget. "This...This all feelings like some terrible dream. But it's real, isn't it? I stood before the Nightsong. I heard Lady Shar's words...and I failed her."

"You did the right thing." Karlach assured, squeezing her hand in hers.

"I did worse than fail her. I defied her." She bowed her head in shame. It was hard not to feel it. "I...I tried to leave. But Lady Shar blocked me. Punished me for failing her. I thought I knew the limit of pain that the incurable wound could inflict, but I had no idea." She shook her head, allowing Karlach to hold said wound to her chest.

"It felt like I was suffering the agony of a thousand people, all at once. My blood was boiling, my hair was on fire. I thought I'd claw my own face off with the pain..." Karlach looked heartbroken. Guilty. She had convinced Shadowheart to betray her mistress after all. She never wanted her lover to be punished though. "But then she released me - banished me more like. She said I was an outcast, that all of her children would know me and revile me. I'm alone."

"You're not." Karlach promised. "You will never be alone again. Not on my watch."

"I have to agree with her." Tar'eon smiled ruefully. "I'm afraid you're stuck with us."

"Yes, well...I'd miss you briefly if you died." Astarion offered and Tar'eon elbowed him while Karlach glared. "Alright, alright! You are...my friend." His gracious attempt actually drew a small chuckle from her lips.

"I'm a target now. Anyone who bows to the Dark Lady could turn on me at any moment." She warned.

"Like we can't take a few Shar worshippers." Karlach scoffed. "We've got you, baby." Shadowheart smiled shyly at the pet name and Astarion pretended to stick a finger down his throat and gag to Tar'eon while the lovebirds made eyes. He shoved him gently, rolling his eyes fondly.

"Let's head back to the Inn. I imagine everyone is waiting there. Even if they aren't, I doubt they'll charge into Moonrise without us. We need the rest if we're going up against Ketheric." Tar'eon decided, and Shadowheart looked conflicted, wanting to talk to the Nightsong as soon as possible, but Tar'eon was right. They were all exhausted from travelling through the Shadowfell and besting Balthazar.

Tar'eon took Karlach's hand and then Astarion's, closing his eyes as Shadowheart clung to her lover. In a flash, they were back at the Inn, and relieved to be.

He looked up at the Inn and waved to Jaheira who was leaning against the balcony, Lae'zel beside her, sharpening her blade. Halsin gave a bow of his head at their arrival, a new resolve in that naturally warm gaze.

One last night, he thought to him. Then, Ketheric Thorm will be dead, and the Shadow Lands free once more.