Tumgik
#Share a Lair Repost
flowerandblood · 17 days
Text
The Fall from the Heavens (22)
[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: oral sex, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]
Tumblr media
[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
He cursed himself in his head for giving in to her, for letting her fly on Larax, soaring towards the skies on Vhagar, looking out for her from afar with a clenched throat. Despite the fact that she hadn't run away with Daemon, he couldn't get over his fear that she would flee, that she would abandon him again.
That she would rip his heart out.
A sigh of relief left his lips as he caught sight of the shining, shimmering blue and silver slender figure of her dragoness in the distance, finding with satisfaction that they were heading in the right direction. He turned over his shoulder, terrified as he flew over them and heard a squeal below, Larax terrified by Vhagar's sudden presence panicked.
He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sigh when he heard his niece's commands, and after a moment her dragon calmed down and joined him, flying a little lower at his side.
He could not contain an involuntary smile of satisfaction as he felt the heat that filled his heart at the thought that here was his dream come true, and he was at last roaming the skies with his wife.
Although Aegon sometimes allowed him to accompany him on his visits to the Dragon's Pit, when he could get a close look at Sunfyre, it brought him neither joy nor comfort. He knew it was their mother who had forced him to take his little brother with him, thinking it would help him, meanwhile it only deepened his grief and sadness.
It wasn't his dragon, but his brother's, so what was he to be happy about?
His attitude, however, was quite different about his niece's dragoness when their betrothal was announced.
She was to become his wife, and as a wedded pair they were to share everything with each other, so he felt that he could also partly acknowledge Larax as his own.
When he saw her for the first time he thought that only Sunfyre matched her beauty.
Larax had blue-silver scales shimmering in the light of day, her nature gentle and docile, at the sight of his betrothed she acted and squealed in excitement like a small, happy child.
At first she hissed at him when he tried to approach her, however, when his niece took his hand in hers and placed it on her back, Larax allowed him to stroke her and from then on she accepted his presence with calmness.
Her scales were rough and sharp, yet smooth and pleasant to the touch, sparkling with various shades of blue like a gems, making him gasp in delight.
Looking at her now, he could not get out of his mind how she had grown, how wide and slender her wings were, with what lightness she swirled in the air.
Compared to her, his beloved old Vhagar was like a great flying stone fortress.
When they arrived, his wife landed by the fortress itself, but he had to find a lair for Vhagar in which she would pose no threat to anyone; he finally spotted a small grassy hill from below and ordered her to lower her flight, finally landing with a sigh of relief.
For some reason he was both joyful and terrified of what awaited them, hundreds of thoughts running through his head.
What if Rheanyra wants to kidnap her? What if she orders her to stay in the Eyrie? What if they reject their terms?
What if he has to kill them?
Despite the beautiful sunny weather and the wonderful journey at his wife's side, these gloomy thoughts consumed his mind completely. When he finally reached the gates of Harrenhal and spotted the figure of Larys Strong in the distance, he only prayed that he would be allowed to rest at least for a moment.
He glanced at his wife, who smiled at him uncertainly, tense, something about the person of Larys Strong or the woman standing next to him had obviously made her uncomfortable.
He decided it did not matter, tired and sore from sitting in one position, and directed his words to the heir of Harrenhal.
"Lord Strong. Take us to our quarters."
Larys Strong did indeed direct them straight to his rooms, much more modest and cramped than those in King's Landing. He pulled off his leather gloves, frustrated that the Lord kept speaking and speaking and speaking, glancing up at him only when he mentioned that he had prepared other quarters for his wife.
No, he thought.
Her place was with him.
They were staying in a nest of vipers and he had no intention of letting any of them bite her.
"No need. My wife will spend the night in my chamber." He said impatiently; Lord Strong raised his eyebrows as if genuinely surprised by his words.
"As you wish, my Prince. However, I will leave the rooms I spoke of at your wife's disposal for her own convenience. I have also assigned her a servant to ensure that while we men are conversing, she will have company. There are several matters I would like to discuss with you." He said lightly, and he pressed his lips together, casting a tired, enraged look at his wife, who stared at him with her big, warm eyes full of understanding.
They were both exhausted, but nothing could be done.
He sighed and nodded, ordering her to leave them alone, leading her and the woman who had followed her away with anxious gaze.
Was this the famous Witch of Harrenhal?
What if she does indeed cast a spell on her?
What if she pours poison into her honey or wine?
Larys Strong snapped him out of his reverie by sitting down at a table standing just beside the window, leaning his staff against the back of his chair, sighing softly.
"Your grandfather has conveyed to me what matter has brought you here, my Prince, and has asked me to personally take care of everything if the matter gets out of hand." He said meekly, as if he had just been telling him about the weather or what meals would be served to them at supper.
He felt an unpleasant shiver run along his spine, a cold sweat on the back of his neck as he threw him a quick, shocked look, his heart pounding like mad.
Lord Strong seemed amused by his reaction, a smile appeared on his face from which he felt an unpleasant squeeze in his guts.
"I have my little birds in the Eyrie who chirp to me about everything that happens there. Daemon and Rhaenyra arrived there this morning − they will also spend the night there after your negotiations. If their answer is not to our satisfaction, the matter will be resolved in a slightly different way."
He swallowed loudly, trying to calm his breathing, feeling like if he moved even a little he would vomit immediately, disbelief, shock and horror vibrating through his entire body.
They wanted to take advantage of the fact that they felt safe in their kin's fortress.
They wanted to kill them.
They wanted him to betray his wife.
He answered nothing, unable to even find the words for what he was feeling as he stared blankly out the window, noticing the silhouette of Larax shining in the sunlight, his hands clenched into fists.
"It is for the good of the kingdom, my Prince. War is no one's desire." He said lightly, rising on his staff, walking with difficulty out of his chamber, leaving him alone with the cold, terrifying chill he felt in his chest.
He pressed his lips together, trying not to cry like a child.
What if Rheanyra did not accept their terms?
What option would be left for them?
He felt devastated at the thought that none.
There would be nothing that could be done.
They had to do anything to make them agree.
They had to lie.
His mind was filled with dark, gloomy thoughts as his wife stepped into the chamber where he and Larys were already seated, waiting for her to begin supper. He squinted as he saw that her hair was entwined around her head in braids, for some reason he felt frustrated thinking that this was surely the witch's idea.
What were they discussing?
What had she said to her?
"Beautiful hairstyle, my Lady." Said Lord Strong; he pressed his lips together, impatient, thinking he was a fucking snake plotting how to kill her mother while throwing her sweet, empty compliments.
He wondered, horrified, if, as far as she was concerned, he and his grandfather had their own plans too.
His wife expressed her gratitude to him with a happy smile and turned her eyes on him, her gaze bright and warm, completely unaware of what was happening around her.
"And you, my husband? What do you think?" She asked lightly, and he licked his lips, furious, horrified, devastated.
"I prefer it when your hair is loose." He replied drily, feeling however instantly remorseful at the look of sadness, pain of rejection that flashed across her face. She blinked and lowered her head, swallowing quietly as she grabbed for her cup, his heart beating harder at the thought that the wine might have been poisoned.
Nothing happened to her, however, and she did not look at him again for the rest of the supper, smiling despite her distress, exchanging courteous remarks with Lord Strong. When she rose, saying that she was exhausted and wished already to prepare for sleep, his heart pounded harder.
"As soon as you have finished, come to my chamber." He commanded. She nodded and left, leaving them alone.
There was an awkward silence between them.
"Your wife is indeed a sweet and innocent creature, my Prince." Lord Strong said, and he cast him a stern, furious look, sensing the subtext in that sentence, some kind of malicious threat from which he felt unpleasant chills running through his veins.
"If anything happens to her, I will rip out your tongue, I will gouge out your eyes, I will cut off your hands; I will cut off parts of your body piece by piece until only your torso and your head remain. Do you understand?" He asked in a low, calm, cold voice − Larys Strong looked at him piercingly, a smile on his lips from which he felt that terrible squeeze in his stomach again.
"Yes, my Prince."
When he returned to his chamber he was just a bundle of nerves, pacing around as if in a trance, terrified, confused, horrified, thinking only of the fact that he needed her, that he had to look at her face, speak to her in private, come up with some plan, anything from which he would be able to sleep a wink that night.
Should he tell her or not?
What if she decides that his family has betrayed her, that she can't trust them?
What if she panicked, if she changed her mind at the last minute, changed sides?
FUCK!
He waited and waited and waited, and she did not appear. He growled loudly, burying his face in his hands, desperate and impatient − the tension in his lower abdomen caused by the lack of their closeness for the last few days was unbearable for him.
He didn't want to make her suffer discomfort when she was already in such pain, thinking that if he waited and let her rest, he would thereby prove that he didn't just care about their physical intimacy, that he respected her and was willing to wait.
He broke from his seat, deciding that enough was enough, and walked out, heading aggressively with a quick step towards her chamber, opening the door with a loud slam. He froze in place, looking in disbelief at the scene before him.
The Witch of Harrenhal held his niece's hand close to her face, kneeling by her tub, his wife submerged in the water with only her nightgown clinging to her bare body, which was clearly visible through the thin material.
For one brief moment it seemed to him that the woman removed her free hand from under her skirt at the sight of him.
What the fuck was she doing?
Both of them looked at him in shock − the witch stood up and bowed to him, bending her head humbly.
"My Prince."
"− get out −" He growled enraged, feeling his whole body quiver in fury, his hands clenched into fists.
The woman left the chamber without a word, and he rushed towards his niece like a lion about to pounce on its prey − her large eyes widened in shock, her lips parted in a hastened breath, her cheeks all flushed in a way she looked when he took her in his bed.
The thought enraged him even more.
"− what is the meaning of this? − hm? −" He hissed, looking at her expectantly, but she merely raised her shoulders in a defensive gesture, her hand clenched on the edge of her tub.
Gods, give me patience, he thought in fury.
"− can't I leave you alone even for a fucking moment? −" He asked with rage as if he had just reprimanded a small, disobedient child. She blinked, clearly trying to get something out of herself after all.
"− I-I asked her for help −"
What?
"− help with what, that she had to kneel beside you and hold your hand? − you are fucking bare −" He burst out, not believing a word she said, her cheeks turning scarlet at his words, the innocent hot look in her eyes killing him.
"− I − I can't tell you, it's embarrassing −"
"− gods, I swear I'm about to rip you to shreds −"
"− we were discussing embarrassing feminine matters − she showed me something…important − for you too −" She finally mumbled out, and he furrowed his brow, understanding absolutely nothing of her explanation, increasingly frustrated that she wasn't telling him the truth.
"− I want to know what this brazen whore was doing to my wife −" He growled in a cold, enraged voice, and she swallowed hard, knowing he was about to explode.
"− very well − I − I will try to show it to you − just − just don't get upset and sit on the bed −"
He was distrustful at first, but did as she asked.
And then his concerns, his fear and terror vanished, replaced by a complete dullness of his mind due to the surprising delight that the touch of her soft, warm lips on his fat, throbbing erection gave him.
When she added her fleshy, moist tongue to her caresses, licking the pink, swollen head of his cock with its tip he thought it was over for him.
He fucked her throat like there was no tomorrow, panting loudly with clenched eyelids, holding her hair in the firm grip of his hands, thrusting his hard cock deep between her sweet lips with the deep stabs of his hips, moaning helplessly as her tongue teased him with the sticky click of her saliva.
She squirmed loudly as he quickened his pace, again and again hitting the back of her throat, tears of exertion running down her cheeks as she tried to breathe loudly through her nose to keep from suffocating.
"− I know − please, please, let me − oh, fuck, yes, swallow it, swallow, swallow, swallow −" He mumbled out panting heavily, tilting his head back as his seed spilled down her throat at last. He heard her cough quietly, shocked, and swallow loudly, some of his spend trickled from the corner of her mouth down her chin.
It was the most indecent sight he had seen in his entire life.
Indecent and wonderfully beautiful at the same time.
"− come − come here − your husband need to take care of you −" He breathed out, grabbing her around the waist, lifting her lightly, sitting her on his lap. His niece sat down on top of him, cupping his cheeks in her hands, joining their lips in a hot, sticky kiss, her tongue slightly salty from his seed.
His cock pulsed hard at that thought.
He turned and threw her onto her back on the soft bedsheet, pulling her wet nightgown off of her, his swollen lips running over her sternum down her stomach leaving a wet, warm, sticky trail behind. Her body quivered all over as he took her thighs in his hands and spread them in front of him, her hands trying to stop him from doing what he wanted to do when his face leaned over her heat.
"− n-no − I'm still dirty −" She mumbled helplessly, embarrassed; he gasped at her words, looking at her swollen folds, from between which her moisture leaked, running the tip of his tongue over her sensitive, fleshy womanhood. She tilted her head back with a moan of delight and desire, her body arching like a string, her hips involuntarily pushing forward to meet his lips.
He couldn't deny himself this, he was too desperate, too terrified, he needed her too badly to stop, to stop himself from sinking his mouth into her weeping cunt, begging him for fulfilment, the tip of his nose running over her bud while his tongue teased her opening with lazy, slow licks.
"− who made you so wet? − her? − hm? −" He hummed, feeling her quickly shake her head, her hands tightening in his hair, pressing him closer, wanting more, her breathing quick and raspy.
"− n-no − I was thinking about you − about you deep inside my mouth −" She muttered, a low, throaty groan escaping his lips that flowed in vibration through her body at her words, his cock swelling all over in his breeches at the memory of what her sweet mouth had done to him as he peaked deep into her throat.
"− did you enjoy it? − the taste of your husband deep in your belly? −" He cooed, sliding his tongue deeper and deeper into her tight, puffy slit; she cried out loudly at his question, her moist walls clenching greedily around nothing.
"− y-yes − oh, gods, please − put it inside me −" She begged, repeating it again and again, his fingers digging deep into the soft skin of her thighs.
How could he deny her?
He lifted himself up on his arm, panting hard, directing his once again swollen erection at her entrance – she was so wet that he thrust into her with one deep push of his hips. They both threw their heads back, delighted at their closeness, at how shockingly pleasurable and intimate the experience was.
"− I've waited so long for this − fuck, this warm cunt is my doom −" He exhaled, despite her cries and the shudders that shook her body imposing a fast, aggressive pace on her at once, pounding into her with the brutal, deep thrusts of his hips, her insides slick with her moisture, making their bare skin slap against each other with a sticky smack again and again.
"− u-uncle − ah − mghmm −" She mumbled, clenching her hands on the material of his tunic, responding devotedly to each of his stabs with the rocking of her hips, her eyes closed, her puffy lips parted sweetly in pleasure.
He leaned over her and kissed her greedily with her sigh of delight, his tongue full of her flavour bursting deep into her throat as he pressed her to the bed, thrusting into her so deeply and quickly that he was hardly slipping out of her.
They both moaned loudly and tightened their fingers on each other's bodies as she threw back her head in wonderful fulfilment, through which her fleshy walls began to squeeze and suck him inside. He cursed under his breath and sighed in relief as the heat in his lower abdomen became unbearable and his seed filled her again, this time taking root in her womb.
They both rocked their hips for a while longer, whimpering and panting into each other's mouths, their lips brushing and teasing each other, their hands stroking each other's faces and hair as they tried to calm down and come down from their peak. He fell on top of her at last without strength, closing his eyes, nuzzling his nose into her hot cheek; he murmured contentedly as her tiny fingers combed through his hair.
"− good gods − I needed this so much −" He muttered, allowing himself to feel like a small, helpless child again in her arms, with his eyes closed, focusing only on the tender, warm touch of her hand.
"− me too, my beloved −" She whispered, and he felt the heat in his heart, the love for her that filled his members like a living fire.
And then he felt a cold sweat on his back, his heart thumping hard at the memory of Larys Strong's words.
It is for the good of the kingdom, my Prince.
War is no one's desire.
He opened his eyes, looking at her soft face, at her closed eyelids, at her lips parted in a calm breath. She murmured with a gentle smile as his fingers ran over her cheek − he felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought that perhaps he should tell her.
But what if it was necessary?
What if Rheanyra and Daemon didn't agree, what if they threatened his grandfather, his mother and his siblings?
He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together, not making a sound when a single, solitary tear of pain and grief ran down the side of his face onto the pillow beneath their heads.
A peaceful, deep sleep did not come to him that night.
Instead he fell into restless slumbers, during which he dreamt that for some reason his niece had stayed with her mother in the Eyrie, that a servant boy had walked into her chamber in the night and cut her throat.
That she had tried to scream his name, her husband's name, terrified and distraught, but only a grunt had escaped her lips.
He awoke with an aggressive tug, feeling his heart pounding like mad, looking down quickly at her body snuggled into his chest, entwined with his legs. His arms closed her in a tighter embrace with her silent sigh, his face sinking into her soft, fragrant hair, inhaling her addictive scent.
The next day, just before they set off to the Eyrie, he left her bed reluctantly, telling her, while she was still sunk in half-sleep, that he would only go and change into his riding attire, that she would not eat or drink anything but wait for him outside the fortress gates.
He was afraid that someone would try to poison her.
He stepped into his chamber feeling that he was shaking all over, repeating in his head the elaborate plan he had devised.
He would lie that she was expecting his child.
That they were in fact supported by the gods themselves, that his father was right when he said that the kingdom could not be divided.
That if he becomes king-regent until his child is born, his queen-wife, her mother and Daemon will be given a seat in the Small Council.
That their family will have a say in all things concerning the kingdom.
In the meantime, they might actually be able to beget an heir, he thought, trying to calm himself down, and then all their worries would resolve themselves.
He tried not to think about what would happen if a daughter was born to them, or if they did not beget a heir at all, if his grandfather began plotting again fearing that it would be Daemon and Rheanyra's children who would sit on the Iron Throne.
They had to agree.
He shuddered, turning away impatiently when he heard the door to his chamber open, wanting to ask the servant how much longer he had to wait but froze, spotting the silhouette of the woman who had driven him to such fury only the day before.
"− get out, woman −" He growled, grabbing the tunic lying on his bed, deciding that he would rather dress himself than let this woman touch him.
She was manipulating his wife's mind, perceiving her innocence, her desires, and trying to inspire her confidence, to approach her in a way that was indecent and unacceptable.
"You will betray her."
He felt his heart stop for a moment when he heard her words and he froze, swallowing hard. He looked at her over his shoulder with his eye wide open, feeling his nostrils quiver with each of his terrified breaths.
Her eyes, the colour of an intense, bright green, seemed to pierce him to the core, something in her gaze that made him both uncomfortable and embarrassed at the same time.
"You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most. You will break her. You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again. You will come back here to face your nephew and you will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your despair and longing. You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death."
Tears of horror, shame and disbelief gathered at the corners of his eyes as he saw her smile full of mockery and superiority, a shudder of disgust shook his body as she bowed before him and simply walked away, leaving him alone with her words ringing in his ears like a bell.
He felt that awful, overwhelming constriction in his stomach again, from which his head spun, barely managing to grab the bowl that lay on the table before his insides twisted in convulsions.
He vomited.
225 notes · View notes
jennyfair7 · 1 year
Text
Audio Gift - POTO Broadway - March 8, 2023 (evening)
Phantom of the Opera Broadway - March 8, 2023 (evening) Ben Crawford, Elizabeth Welch (u/s, final), Paul A Schaefer, Raquel Squarez Groen, Nehal Joshi, Craig Bennet, Maree Johnson, Sarah Esty, Carlton Moe
My master. Fully tracked. Elizabeth’s last scheduled performance as Christine. Share freely but don’t repost on other platforms. If you list this for trading, please mark as a gift and regift upon request! 
Notes about Elizabeth’s performance below the cut...
​When Ben appeared, Elizabeth touched a hand to the mirror before turning around to face the audience
After the portcullis encounter in MOTN, she held a hand to her ribs and was smiling/a bit breathless
She put her right hand on Ben’s left hand for the MOTN pose
During “touch me, trust me” Elizabeth kept her hand on the mask and seemed super into it versus being surprised
On the rooftop during “but his voice” she seemed to remember it fondly or at least wistfully, so much so that even Paul seemed suspicious
Her dancing was very crisp in masquerade and she looked absolutely stunning in the star princess dress
During Wandering Child, Elizabeth had the same wistful/engaged expression for “what endless longings” as she did for “but his voice”
After the first kiss in the final lair, Ben made a sad little expression and leaned his face into her hair. For the second kiss, Elizabeth put both of her hands on either side of his head/face and Ben wrenched himself away at the end
Elizabeth mouthed “I love you” to the crowd during curtain calls ❤️
103 notes · View notes
prpfs · 3 months
Note
(Reposting. Forgot to add something, sorry. Please delete my first ask.)
About Me: 💋
Flexible writer with quality and detailed posts: post length varies depending on the plot, partner preferences, and the post - but my typical range is 1-3+ paragraphs
I'm over the age of 18 and will only write with others over the age of 18 as well
Attempts to reply every 1-2 days, but will let you know about any unusual absences.
Prefers writing in third-person
Willing to play canon characters and original characters. Willing to do canon/canon and oc/canon. Willing to double!
Prefers long-term plots Prefers to play dominant, male characters paired with submissive female characters (Can double as any dynamic, gender, etc.)
Fandoms:
I am seeking partners who can play a female canon character from my list below. Extensive knowledge about the world and character is not necessary. I have no issue with you portraying these characters with your own unique interpretation.
The 100: Clarke Griffin, Raven Reyes, Lexa
DC: Kara Zor-El, (Supergirl) Sara Lance, Wonder Woman, Mera
Euphoria: Cassie Howard
FBI (CBS TV show): Nina Chase
Fear The Walking Dead: Alicia Clark
Marvel Cinematic Universe: Cassie Lang (2023 film), Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Carol Danvers, Kate Bishop, Karen Page, Daisy Johnson, Yelena Belova, Peggy Carter
Nancy Drew: Nancy Drew
Outer Banks: Sarah Cameron
Riverdale: Betty Cooper
The Walking Dead: Maggie Greene
OC x OC:
Although I prefer fandoms, I'm open to OC x OC as well. Seeking stories with the main themes of romance, bondage/BDSM, and damsels in distress. There are a number of different scenarios that we can play out. I am asking for your female character to be a damsel in distress - often getting herself into situations where she is over her head, sticking her nose in business where it does not belong, etc. It lands her kidnapped, tied up, and in need of a rescue from the hero, her boyfriend/husband. This is not saying your character has to be a doormat or useless by any means. She can definitely be a strong-willed, smart character - which can play a part into why she is always finding herself in situations like these. I am looking to play out scenes where she is rescued before the bad guys can do anything too bad to her, but we can discuss exactly how much happens before the rescue. Her partner saves her, they share some risky intimacy while still in the kidnapper's lair, and escape to move on for their next adventure. Also, if we do fandoms and we are able to incorporate this theme into the fandom rp, that would be wonderful too! If we're doing OC x OC, I would love the chance to suggest potential face claims for your character. In return, you can do the same for my character. Here are some brief plot blurbs:
*FBI agents: Our characters have a very unique way of gathering intel where your character purposefully allows the kidnapping to happen so she can be tracked to the villains!
*superheroine x human male: My character is the romantic partner of a superheroine and she often has to rely on him to escape sticky situations
*Zombie apocalypse: bandits and bad guys galore with no laws abound!
If you are interested, please like or reblog and I will reach out. Thanks!
Leave a like, and anon will get back to you!
9 notes · View notes
eveandtheturtles · 1 year
Text
Started with a Kiss, Chapter 5 - Discussions over drinks
On AO3
Previous chapters on tumblr Next
A/N: Missed with March but this one is Beta Read by @thoughtful-raven. Dude you are a superstar. Enjoy and please reblog/comment to let me know if you liked it ;) no reposts. Characters depicted are in their early/mid 20s or older.
Pairing: Donnie x OC.
Tagging: @madammuffins @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch @dilucsflame33 @pheradream15 @sharpwindow @leosgirl82 (anyone else wants in on this lemme know!)
After the panic attack, Kara was out for the count for most of the day. Cheryl decided to stay until Kara woke up. That way there would be someone around that she trusted. The turtles and their father were great people, no doubt, but the two women barely knew them.
So, after seating her at the kitchen table, the brothers dispersed throughout the lair; Leo went to read, Raph and Mikey went to play video games. Donnie hovered for a moment but even he disappeared into his lab. Before they left they did make her some tea, leaving a full teapot for her. 
Cheryl wasn't sure if she preferred being alone or with someone around. Her own nerves were shot so she tried to calm down staring at the tea in her cup. That was why, when the chair across from her moved, she nearly jumped out of her skin. 
She blinked and looked up at Splinter. 
"Apologies for scaring you, my dear," the rat apologized.
"It's alright," she smiled awkwardly.
"Would you mind if I-" he gestured to the teapot.
"Oh, no, please, help yourself," she shook her head. 
Splinter smiled and poured himself a cup. He then brought it up to his lips, inhaled deeply taking in the aroma, exhaled, and took a small sip. 
"Ah… this was brewed by Raphael," he hummed.
Cheryl watched that, amused. "You can tell which of them made the tea?"
"Tea brewing can reveal a lot about a person," he chuckled, turning the cup in his hands. "Raphael prefers stronger, bold flavors, which sometimes can result in him using a bit too many leaves. Leonardo tries to balance his brews more, but he hesitates at times ending with water a bit too cold for the brew. Michelangelo is impatient so he tends to scald the leaves with too hot water or pours it too early"
"What about Donatello?" She relaxed and grinned.
Splinter let out a pained sigh, shaking his head. "My brilliant son prefers the brew of coffee way too much. I'm afraid he doesn't appreciate tea as much. Calls it 'hot leaf juice'."
Cheryl laughed.
"He microwaves it and uses tea bags, " Splinter said the last word like it was the highest offense. 
She snorted and laughed louder. "I am so sorry," she giggled. "I am afraid Kara and I are very similar to him."
Splinter sighed painfully. "No appreciation for fine things," he said shaking his head but still with a smile.
She giggled. "How else can you tell someone's character?"
"Hmm," he stroked his goatee, "a game of shogi. Speaking of, your friend has a very interesting strategy."
"Oh, yeah, she loves these kinds of games. I stick to chess and still lose to her," Cheryl sighed, amused. 
"You two seem very close," Splinter noted.
"Yeah, at this point we're basically sisters… She was there for me at my lowest and I for her." She rubbed her fingertips over the mug and took a sip.
"It is an important bond to share with someone," Splinter said softly. 
"Yeah, I guess…" She dropped her head. "I never thought we'd get this far."
"Do you regret-?" He tilted his head inquisitively.
"No!" She quickly interrupted him. "Absolutely not, I just sometimes wonder if she'd be better off without me…"
"I doubt she thinks so." Splinter placed a comforting hand over Cheryl's hand. "What makes you say that my dear?"
Cheryl sighed deeply. "You could say I was a catalyst for a lot of things in her life…"
Splinter remained quiet, giving her space in case she wanted to elaborate.
"When we- I- can't, I promised I wouldn't be talking about her, privacy is so important," she hesitated. 
"If it helps, this isn't about her," Splinter reassured her. "This is about you, clearly needing to get things off your chest."
"Alright, it's just- our lives have been interwoven for so long. It's impossible to separate them…" She ran her hand through her hair, messing it up. "My parents were- are middle-class, white 'traditional' people." She air quoted with a painful grimace. "The ones with 'right' values," she snorted bitterly. "Then they had the misfortune of having a child that couldn't hear as well as others. They didn’t like the idea of ASL or hearing aids, so I had to learn how to lip read, but it still made me feel like an outsider,” she licked her lips thinking about how to continue. “Kara was my first friend to make me feel normal in more ways than one… " She rubbed her eyes, wiping away the tears. “When I was 14 I realized a new thing about me. Just another occasion for disappointment,” she snorted bitterly. “I got a girlfriend and my parents found out. Obviously, this wasn’t how they imagined their daughter to be,” she took a deep breath in. “If it weren’t for her I would have been sent to conversion therapy.” Her knuckles paled as she squeezed the mug tighter.
“How old was she?” Splinter frowned thinking about the tiny woman. His head turned slightly to where she was resting.
“Uh…13-ish? She’s… always been stubborn. Add to it the audacity and the teen conviction of being almost immortal and you’ll have the idea of Kara back then,” she chuckled, sounding a bit watery. “She was already in college by that time.”
Splinter stroked his beard thoughtfully. “That is a lot of responsibility for someone so young. Even my sons were at least 4 years older before they dared to take on the mantle of protectors. You were very brave,” he said slowly. “What of her parents?”
“I’d rather not discuss that?” She sighed. “It’s really not my place to tell.”
“Understood.” 
Donnie tilted his head, taking his headphones off and looking to the kitchen, where Cheryl and Splinter were still chatting, but about much simpler topics. 
He wondered how much he should dig into Kara’s past. Oddly enough, he cared if she’d get mad at him for it. Normally, he wouldn’t bat an eyelash (if he had one). He did it to April, Casey, and Vern. Even Chief Vincent and any cop who got friendlier with them. 
Cheryl was the direct link to her past. He knew if he dug hard enough, he’d uncover what she tried to scrape off the public records. On the road, he was limited to what he had on himself but now, at home? He thought back to Leo’s words. 
No, he couldn’t wait for her to fess up. His family always came first. He hit ENTER. Then waited for the results to start filling in.
Kara woke up groggy, wondering which century it was and what planet she was on. After a brief glance at her phone she determined she had slept for like 3 or 4 hours, her mouth felt like a desert and her eyes felt like bags of sand. She probably looked terrible. She felt terrible.
She rubbed her face and looked around. Finally, the memories started booting up. Yeah, it really wasn't good. She sighed heavily. 
Slowly she slipped her feet onto the floor and hissed at the cold. Rubbing her arms, Kara made her way to the kitchen where the scent of food was calling her.  
She saw Mikey at the stove. He was whistling as he was cooking. Tossing an onion over his arm he caught it on the knife's edge before chopping it. It landed in a wok and the orange-clad terrapin moved it with expertise and precision. Her mouth watered. 
The ground under her feet vibrated and Kara looked up, spotting the tank that was Raphael. He gave her a sharp look and his mouth moved. 
Morning, pipsqueak.
She frowned and glared at him. Did he just call her pipsqueak? Was she just called a tiny bean, a shortie? Raph, unknowingly to himself, made his way to a short person’s shitlist. She was already plotting her revenge.
Her stomach rumbled. Revenge must come later. She followed Raph into the kitchen area. There Mikey served them a portion of egg-fried rice. They had Chinese last night and much of the leftover rice remained. 
She focused on eating while the two giants were talking and playfully shoving each other. Soon Leo arrived, grabbing himself a bowl of food. He nodded politely in her direction, which she returned. She wondered where Cheryl was and just at that moment, she arrived with Splinter for the meal. 
The two friends hugged tightly. They needed to discuss things but it wasn't the time or place for that. Cheryl got served a portion of food as well and the two talked about how they should go about Kara's academic presence. 
<Do you think you could get a note from the Chief of Police that you can’t attend the classes?> Cheryl asked. Kara snorted.
<Suuuuure, I can try,> she giggled. <Tell Stephen he needs to fill for me for a bit longer too, but I hope to be back sometime this week.>
<I can’t imagine you just skipping work for whatever reason,> Cheryl snickered. <This must be hell for you.>
<Shut up, I’m fine. I plan to annoy the hell out of all of them so they kick me out themselves.> Kara winked. 
<Awful, awful person you are.> The two leaned in and hugged. <Just don’t do anything stupid when I’m not around okay? This is really, really bad. Not like before…> Cheryl looked at her, brow furrowed in concern.
<I know, trust me, I do. I paid once for being stupid…> Kara rubbed her throat. <I’m… I’m going to try and be smarter this time.>
<Okay, just remember there are people to help you here this time.> Cheryl looked at the table full of turtles. <Even if they are a bit unconventional.>
Kara sighed deeply but she was smiling. <I know, and I have you.> She reached her hand and squeezed Cheryl’s palm. Cheryl smiled back and the two bonked their heads together and giggled.
<Dig in, silly.> Cheryl poked her in the ribs and the two resumed breakfast.
A bit later Kara was about to finish her meal when Leo slid his phone to her. “ Chief Vincent wants to see you tonight. We have a spot - not the police station - set up.”
She read it and nodded. She was still too mentally exhausted to fight them on this. She was too far in this as well. Might as well go with it. The breaking and entering at her place definitely scared her enough for it. “ I’ll go.” She wrote back.
Cheryl looked at her. <Should I call Tim?>
Kara nodded. Yeah, the presence of a lawyer was definitely required. Cheryl passed the information to Leo and he agreed to text her the address.
Kara got up from the table and stretched yawning. Her muscles protested and she winced. She needed two things - coffee and workout.
“ Do you guys get Uber Eats delivery here?” She typed in the notepad on her phone and showed it to Leo.
He frowned. “ What do you want?”
“A specific coffee order.”
“We have coffee here,” he pointed out.
“Okay, and can I make a strawberry frappuccino with a double espresso and chocolate swirl on top of it?” She raised her eyebrow at him.
“ Can’t you just accept what’s here?”
She huffed at him. “ I am about to meet the chief of police who is gonna most likely interrogate me, I found out I’m being hunted by a mafia, and my flat has been broken into and robbed. I. Need. This.” Her lips drew into a thin line of determination.
Leo sighed deeply, rethinking his choice in life. “ Fine.”
Kara smiled victoriously.
Raph must have said something because Mikey, who was sitting in front of her, was snickering. “ Donnie is gonna hate that. ” She read his lips.
A mischievous thought popped into her mind.
Donnie wandered into the kitchen sleepily. He was rubbing his eye under his glasses when the alluring scent of coffee hit his nose.
He saw Kara by the counter, using cinder blocks to elevate herself as everything in the lair had been scaled up for the brothers. His brothers were by the table with Cheryl, chatting, snickering, and drinking something. Donnie squinted as suspicion filled his mind. It deepened once they went quiet as they saw him approach, with Mikey nudging Raph jokingly. 
Donnie looked closer at what Kara was doing. She was by his coffee maker. A state of the art machine that he built and improved upon over the years. He had a specific coffee blend he perfected over the years. A harmony of flavors with depth and a tangible body. Nothing like those cheap Starbucks knock-offs. 
He looked closer. There was a tall beer glass in Kara's hand. Next to her was a blender and a bucket of crushed ice. 
Donnie looked back to his brothers and noticed each had a mug or similar pint glass. There was the scent of his perfect blend in the air.
"What did you do?" He glared at his brothers. 
"We didn't do shit," Raph replied, sipping from a mug. He made a delighted hum. "It's the half pint there." He pointed to Kara. 
The blender began to whirl again and it sounded so offending to Donnie at that moment. 
"She made us these cool drinks, dude!" Mikey announced, pointing to his mug.
Leo drank his green concoction without a word but he was definitely trying not to grin too hard. 
Donnie turned to Kara who regarded him with an impish smile. She had finished her drink, which was pink, with a small hill of whipped cream and a chocolate drizzle.
She took a loud sip through a silicone straw, maintaining firm eye contact. Then set the drink down. 
<I was feeling fancy. I hope you don't mind me using your coffee.> She looked all cutesy singing that. <I can make you something too.> She winked.
Donnie exhaled through his nostrils and pressed a knuckle to his forehead. 
<What are they drinking?> 
<Well,> she almost wiggled, biting her bottom lip as she watched his reactions, <I made a matcha latte for Leo, a hazelnut oat milk latte with some cinnamon for Raphael, and a cereal coffee with milk for Mikey, as for me, strawberry frappuccino with a shot of espresso.> She raised her glass at the end of the presentation. <Cheryl is drinking a simple latte with caramel drizzle.>
Donnie inhaled and exhaled again. <Did you. Just make. All my brothers. Starbucks orders?> He signed slowly, accenting each pause and closing his eyes for a moment to maintain calm. He opened them to see her reply.
<Yep. I really enjoy those lattes. Such great drinks.> Her grin was so wide it almost broke her face in two. 
<They aren't lattes!> Finally, Donnie exploded. <Whatever Starbucks is doing is a sacrilege against coffee! Leo's and Mikey's drinks don't even have coffee in them!> He was so exasperated he was shouting together with singing.
His brothers snickered.
<They taste good though,> she shrugged. <You sure you don't want one? You might change your mind.> She teased.
Donnie gapped at her for a moment too stunned by her audacity. <No!> 
<Your loss.> 
She grabbed her glass and sauntered away to sit at the table with the others. Mikey greeted her with a fist bump, which she gladly returned. 
They watched Donnie move about grumbling and ranting about coffee sacrilege, cursing the famous chain store and his family. 
" Does he do this often?" Kara wrote to Leo.
" Yup. Sometimes when Donnie ticks dad off he will pull out instant coffee right in front of him, it's a whole show." He snickered as he wrote. 
" Amazing." Kara grinned. So Splinter had some mean streak to him, huh?
<Not that I judge you but...Why did you do this?> Cheryl asked her friend, watching Donnie as well. 
Kara shrugged. <I don't know. Seemed like fun.>
<Riiiiiiight,> Cheryl replied with doubt clear on her face.
Kara shoved her friend a little. She didn't want to explain that she found the way Donnie frowned cute. There was something about his arms when he did things too. Honestly, this was petty, childish, and immature. Why did she do that? She wasn't 12 anymore.
She sighed. She really needed to stop. If the little annoying things put distance between them then maybe it was for the best though.
" I noticed you guys mention a dojo around here, mind if I use it?" She asked Leo.
He nodded and stood up gesturing to her to follow him. She took her drink and did just that.
Donnie entered the dojo wanting to work out some of his irritation. Yes, he made his coffee but he was too ticked off to drink it. So, a workout it was. 
Lo and behold the source of them was right there too. He paused, surprised at the weapon of the choice she was working with. 
Kara was going through the motions with a silver staff. The predominantly thrust-based technique reminded him more of a quarterstaff rather than his bō. He wondered where she got the weapon because he didn't remember it being part of the brothers' collection. 
She didn't notice him yet. Donnie admired her for a moment. The movements were sharp and precise. She knew what she was doing. Of course, he doubted she had much actual combat experience. Regardless, she was a delight to watch. 
Finally, she paused and looked up. Seeing him there she straightened up. <I'll be gone in a minute,> she told him
<Can I join?> He asked, surprising himself. On the other hand, this was perfect. He could kick her ass as retribution for messing with him.
She tilted her head surprised, eyebrows riding up. 
<Like a spar?>
He approached the weapon stack picking up his bō staff. He turned to her. <Yeah.>
She considered his proposition and smiled. <Sure.>
She took a couple of steps back. With a smooth movement of her thumb, her staff separated and shortened into two rods. 
He took his position. His eyes met hers as she took her stance. They nodded.
He attacked. She was fast. As he swung she got closer and blocked him. Simultaneously, she threw a hit on his leg. Donnie hissed. He spun the bo and moved back. Kara grinned. She spun the sticks in her hands, waiting. He grinned back, realizing he probably underestimated her. 
While Donnie often fought shorter opponents, they rarely went lower than 5'7". He saw his height as an advantage in those encounters. Meanwhile, Kara was 2 feet shorter than him and used to opponents way taller than her. 
They started circling each other. From time to time Donnie would cautiously thrust at her which she'd deflect with one of the rods. Finally, she moved in for an attack. 
She was so fast. He was stronger, though. She knew that and her tactics reflected that. She tried to take him down quickly. Aiming for his legs and sides to hit with the sticks.
He recognized her style as eskrima. Whenever he attacked she was ready to block and counterattack at the same time. 
At one point Kara went between his legs. Sliding right through and whacking him high on his calves, making him drop to his knees. Next move she aimed for the head. Quickly, he blocked her again. Spinning his legs as he got up he tried to cut her but she jumped up. 
Using the momentum he tried to hit her with his staff next. It worked. She winced and folded in half for a moment. In his panic, Donnie tried to approach her to see if he didn't overdo that but regretted it immediately. Kara used his hesitation to hit under his jaw. 
Who said she was going to play fair?
Donnie snorted. She was a refreshing opponent. He had to adapt quickly. Her height, deceptiveness, and dual technique forced him to change his usual style. He had to angle staff or his own body away from the assault. 
Soon the difference between them became apparent though. 
Yes, Kara was fast and crafty. And quickly figuring out his weak points. Her metal weapon was heavy and sure to cause serious damage were he not a turtle. But she was still human with no experience in true combat. 
Donnie, on the other hand, was a turtle mutant who since childhood was trained in ninjutsu and from age 16 actively fought against the criminal underworld of New York. Not to forget, he still was stronger than the average person despite his status as a scientist of the family.
She was getting tired. Her stamina was dropping. Donnie's wasn't. 
Kara took the wrong step. Her arms dropped a little lower, she moved a little slower, and he had an opening. Using his staff he swept her knees out from under her. She fell on her back and groaned. Immediately, Donnie was on top of her, pinning her hands down. 
She was looking at him startled, eyes wide, mouth slightly opened. Her breathing was elevated from the workout. He could feel her pulse in the veins in her wrists. Their eyes met and she swallowed hard. 
Donnie blinked, caught in the moment of watching her lips move. 
"Are we interrupting something?" Raph's snicker broke the spell.
Donnie jumped away from Kara as if burned. Kara got to her feet slower, stretching her back. <Nice workout,> she told Donnie and nodded at Raph. 
She picked up her sticks, which she dropped during Donnie's last attack. She joined the two pieces and collapsed the entire thing into a silver cylinder. Donnie recognized it as one of the items she had taken out of her bag back in California. Back then he thought it was pepper spray or something. Huh. 
She left the dojo, nursing her side. 
To say that Kara wasn't happy to meet with the Chief of the Organised Crime Division was an understatement. She was tense and the bruise she had developed thanks to her workout with Donnie was hurting like a motherfucker. She briefly wondered if he managed to crack her rib…
"Dr. Williams, I presume?" Chief Rebecca Vincent joined them at the table. 
They were in an empty maintenance office of an abandoned parking lot. It was cramped with the 7 of them there. They dropped Cheryl off at April's on the way there but picked up an extra instead. The four turtles were blocking all the exits - the door and windows and she was sitting at the table in the middle with her lawyer. 
Timothy Spencer, her attorney, was surprised but not shocked when Kara contacted him. What he didn’t expect were four mutants. While unnerved, he was a professional. The paycheck he was getting from Kara was enough to keep him quiet as well. 
She eyed the Chief without a hint of trust but nodded. 
"After Dr. Stockman and now you, I should just start investigating all brilliant scientists in this city it seems," the Chief tried to joke but all she earned was a grimace from Kara. Timothy remained stone-faced.
"Right," Rebecca cleared her throat. "Let's start then, shall we?" 
The negotiation part was a headache. It was mostly a ping-pong battle between the Chief and the lawyer of ‘we can charge her-’ and ‘where’s your evidence?’. Kara tried to stay focused, this was her future being discussed. Her and Cheryl’s safety. Still, her eyes wandered a little.
Raph and Mikey by the window were doing something on their phones. Leo was leaning against the door looking up at the ceiling and Donnie… He was mostly working on some calculations but she noticed he was looking at her from time to time. She frowned catching him once and he looked back on his sized down screens with…. What was that? Guilt?
What was that about? What did he do? 
Suddenly her attention was called back to the arguing Police Chief and her lawyer. Finally, after 2 hours of back and forth between them it was agreed that the Chief would present Kara as a Confidential Informant, maybe, depending on what the DA office would say - an undercover free agent hired by the police. That was then written down by both parties and signed. Now Chief Vincent would need to go and discuss it all with the DA. That meant another meet-up session for them. That meant Kara had to spend more time with the turtle brothers as she, again, refused police presence. But the main point has been settled. Chief agreed to a deal and that Kara’s identity would be kept out of the process as much as possible for the amount of evidence she could provide. With a good chunk of it already sent to the Chief by Donnie. 
She glared at him on their way to the lair, carried by Raph. She wasn’t bitter at all, no why should she? There was nothing to be bitter or frustrated about. It wasn’t like him going a little bit behind her back didn’t irritate her. And that little workout routine they did earlier that day didn’t confuse her feelings and resolve more. So everything was fine! All fine!
Once they reached the lair Raph set her down and Kara started marching out to her designated spot. She needed to cool off.
Leo though had other plans.
He stepped in front of her, stopping her briefly. “Listen, it’s really important for the city to keep Archambault in prison. I’m really glad you decided to stick around.”
Kara took a breath in. She wanted to say she didn’t have much choice but… getting to know the brothers just a little… she probably had. She doubted they would force her to do anything if she refused. 
“Yeah, well, it’s in my best interest to get this sorted out as soon as possible,” she typed up on her phone to show to Leo.
“Right, we will need to talk about this too,” he placed his hands on his hips. “I need you and Donnie to try and maybe research or work out why Big Boss is after you.”
“ I don’t know what to tell you, I don’t have other ideas why they would be after me.” She showed him her response. Behind them, Donnie leaned in to read.
<What about Ryan Ledger?> He spoke and Kara froze. It took her a moment to process what he said. It was like her mind refused to accept it. But of course, of course, he couldn’t just wait for her to give information freely. Of course, he had to dig. How could he not!? All her frustrations from the day came to head in that single moment. Her eyes narrowed at him.
<What?> She signed slowly. Deep frown, head tilted.
<Ryan Ledger, he->
Her face morphed into cold fury. She sidestepped Leo and walked up to Donnie. Marched is more likely. Then she gestured for him to lean down. He bent his knees and when he was at eye level with her she slapped him. She slapped him so hard the sound echoed through the lair. Her hand burned and his head turned. 
His brothers let out a collective 'ooof' with Mikey muttering: "That had to hurt."
<How dare you-> Her hands were shaking. Her whole body was shaking with deep anger. <How dare you dig that up!>
Donnie straightened up, rubbing his chin.
<I had all the right to do so,> he stated. Still, some shame crept up on him. His shoulders slumped. 
<No!> Her hands were moving wide and fast, erratic. <No! You had no- This does not concern you!>
"It does concern me! It concerns my family! We have to protect-" He shouted as he signed.
<Bullshit! It doesn't! You didn't need to get involved! The only reason you did was because of some sick hero syndrome you four have going on!!> She gestured to all the brothers. <You could have just given the chip back to the police! Let the French buffoon get charged! H0AX once more evades arrest!> She pushed him back pressing a finger into his plastron. <You involved yourself in my life! I didn't need that! I didn't ask you to!> 
"Listen-!" 
She took out her hearing aids. Threw them at him and stomped into the sewers. She wasn't going to listen. 
Donnie huffed. She was just so… infuriating and difficult!! He went after her. 
It was easy to catch up. His legs were so much longer than hers after all. 
He grabbed her shoulder, spun her around, then winced as she punched his stomach. 
<Which part of 'not talking to you' didn't you get?!> She huffed, stepping back from him, and cradling her hand. Damn that plastron was hard.
<I thought you wanted to know that he was involved,> he said, irritated. Damn, she punched well for such a tiny thing.
<I knew! I found out! Definitely not from you spying on me!> She tried to kick his shin but he jumped back.
<How was I supposed to know you would have told us! You said nothing about him in the first place!>
<Well, I'm sorry, I didn't know I had to disclose my abuser to a group of fucking strangers!!>  
That shut him up. He read the files. He didn’t have the full story but- Shame really settled in this time. She glared up at him.
<I'm leaving,> she stated. Final. 
<Where are you going to go?> He asked as more of a reflex. 
<I don't fucking know, maybe to April or crash at my lab, that's none of your fucking business!> She threw at him.
<Fine!> He replied, baring his teeth at her.
<Fine!> She signed, throwing her arms wide by the end.
<Fine!> He huffed.
She flipped him off and stormed to where her clothes were stored, grabbed her suitcase, and headed for the exit. 
"What's going on?" Leo approached Donnie, throwing a concerned look at Kara. 
"She's leaving," Donnie huffed and stomped to his lab. 
"She can’t!" Leo shouted after him. “We have to stop her!”
"See if I care!" Donnie shouted back.
"I ain't going with her," Raph quickly evacuated the area and grabbed Mikey by the shell. 
"Whoa, dude-!" Mikey protested.
Leo dragged his hand over his face. He was about to go after Kara when Splinter stopped him.
"Master?" He said confused.
"I believe it will be for the best if Donatello follows after our guest," the old rat said thoughtfully. 
"But he's-" 
Splinter raised his hand to stop Leonardo. 
"There are emotions and situations that you can't solve for your brothers. This is one such situation," he said with a small smile. "Just let the two of them breathe. Kara shall return here."
Leo nodded. "Alright." He rolled his shoulders trying to relax. 
"Now, would you mind playing a game of shogi with your old father," Splinter said, gesturing to the board he already had set up. 
"You always win," Leo chuckled.
"You never know, maybe today will be your day," Splinter smiled at his son. They both knew that was a lie.
Kara huffed stomping through the sewer canals and heading to the nearest maintenance entrance. Dragging a suitcase up the ladder would be tricky on its own even without her bruised ribs. Spite was a powerful painkiller though.
The suitcase’s handle slid back and snapped into place and she started climbing. Yeah, it was hard as hell but she kept going. Step. Pull. Balance. Step. Slowly but surely she was making progress. The last obstacle was opening the manhole. She gritted her teeth and pushed it open. 
Suddenly her luggage slipped from her tired grasp. She watched it falling almost slow-mo to the ground. Before it could crash and spill its content everywhere, Donnie appeared, catching it. 
Kara sighed, relieved, but then glared at him. What was he doing here? She definitely didn’t want to look at him at this moment. How did he even find her?? Was there a tracker on her? It better just be because of cameras in the tunnels for his own good. 
He clearly wanted to say something. Fuck it. She turned her head and took another step up. 
“Kara!” he called and she gritted her teeth. She didn’t hear him. Her hearing aids were still in his pocket.
Then two pairs of hands reached down into the sewers and pulled her up, while she struggled to escape.
“Fuck.”
18 notes · View notes
100percentdirtball · 4 months
Text
follow me on letterboxd and you can get many dumb reviews like:
dream scenario ★★★ This review may contain spoilers. cumming 🤝 farting
or this one here!
barton fink ★★★★★
john goodman is a great actor, but more than that, is one of the greatest men, and truest friends, i have ever had the honor and the privileged of knowing. rest in peace, john.
ⓘ Readers added a Community Note to a post to which you replied, Liked or reposted
This Letterboxd user has never met John Goodman. She never even met John Candy.
Also, John Goodman is still alive.
or even this one!
shogun assassin ★★★★★
when we're on a mission, i keep count of how many ninjas my father kills. he says not to keep count, only to pray for their souls, but if i don't keep count, i don't know how many souls to pray for
when i was a kid in the 90s, manga was hard to come by. there were a few shonen jump issues to be found. tankoban of even the most popular series-one piece, dbz, naruto, the sort of thing you could find wall scrolls littering the floor of every budget hotel anime con-were a specialty product. bookstop & the nascent barnes & noble had a few volumes of something or other tucked in the comics section between x-men and dilbert. my local comic book shop, dragon's lair on pearl street, had lone wolf and cub. half-price books had lone wolf and cub. even bookstop had a seemingly random assortment of them, volumes chosen according to the spine colors that were complementary or prime numbered chapters.
there were six lone wolf and cub movies in the 70s, none of which got an american release. in the early 80s, american producers bought the rights for the first two, chopped them to bits, smashed them together, and dubbed them over with a new script to make Shogun Assassin. if you're a fan of japanese or chinese movies from the era, it's a story you've heard a dozen times, the clumsy hackjobs to make movies slightly less impenetrable to american audiences. it's why my dad still thinks of godzilla or kung fu as mindless action flicks with non-sequitur dialogue that doesn't match the actors mouths. that's what happens when american producers got ideas in the 80s.
shogun assassin is something else. somehow, they made something beautiful, something i might call perfect. it shares more dna with kung-fu movies than the samurai flicks it might get compared to, it's more Riki-Oh than Harakiri or even the Zatoichi series-the first movie of which was directed by the same man who directed four of the six lone wolf and cub movies. there's drama here, but it finds its way to the screen only between scalps and fingers being severed. in most samurai movies, blood is an exclamation mark. here, it is the essential grammar, the script written in drips, rivers, and sprays of the japanese hallmark blood, candy-red and not quite viscous, like cheap home depot paint. 
the father, lone wolf, speaks rarely. he's an astonishing presence, played by tomisaburo wakayama and voiced by lamont johnson. heavyset and solemn with a wild dog speed. over the run of the movie, he becomes progressively scarred and bloodied, his haori slashed to ribbons, his hair becoming a wild mane. the son, cub, speaks for him in voice-over, letting wolf deliver fewer lines of dialogue than characters who get five minutes of screen time. he is perfectly kempt at all times, his clothes clean and crisp, his shaved head and forelocks immaculately maintained. one imagines lone wolf carefully tying up his topknot, shaving the top of his head, then staring dead-eyed at the road and barely pausing to push his own hair out of his eyes.
each tankoban, each chapter of the manga was a stubby white slab, lurid monochrome colors and a splash of color, a banner with japanese writing, across the bottom third. half-price books had lone wolf and cub, dragon's lair had lone wolf and cub, and my childhood friend zoey's dad had all 28 volumes, neatly organized on a bookshelf between old issues of heavy metal and photo books made to live on coffee tables. i never read the manga, but i flipped through a number of them, grazing on lurid black and white violence, decontextualized images of katana flashing to behead ninjas rendered as black smudges. watching shogun assassin brought me back there, an unrelenting pace of half-remembered violence. 
i desperately had to pee for the middle third of the movie. during what felt like a lull i finally gave in and squeezed past a full row of old men and pasty nerds. when i came back to my seat, i learned through cub's narration that the lone wolf had just killed an army.
you must watch shogun assassin
4 notes · View notes
penname-artist · 10 months
Text
Tidbits #01
Q & A: Blade's Tegu
Notice: this chapter of 'Tidbits' is reposted from it's original document of 2021, and may no longer be up-to-date with current headcanons.
(Questions by Tanel)
For our very first segment of Tidbits, we got a whole slew of tegu-themed questions!
As an overview, “Trigger” is Blade’s pet Argentine black and white tegu. If you’re unfamiliar with tegus (don’t worry I was too, until I learned about them from my art teacher) they’re similar in size and shape to iguanas, or like smaller, non-venemous Komodo dragons. They grow up to around four feet long and live up to about 15-20 years. Trigger is about seven right now.
In the timeline, Trigger is a part of Blade’s life during the events of Emergency - though I think only mentioned once. He’ll have a short appearance for the following project in the timeline, Familia, but otherwise he hasn’t really appeared in any stories, short or long, just yet.
[Where did Blade get the Argentine tegu from?]
So, Blade got Trigger through a rescue facility in California, as a means of helping them out with saving some of the organic creatures still alive on earth today. Knowing he literally works and lives as a full-time resident of a National Park, he was able to take in Trigger with almost no questions asked. Trigger was his first pick, as well - Maru says they just shared a look that sealed the deal. He believes, however, that really Blade just saw how much trouble he would be for Maru on the base. However it was fated, Trigger is now a VIR (that is, very important reptile) resident of the base and park.
(TLDR: In my HC, there are actually a select few animals (mostly reptiles, fish and amphibians) that have made it through into the evolved era of Cars, which are being slowly rediscovered. Animal sanctuaries and other such places have started putting these organic animals in the homes of caretakers so that they might be able to keep these animal’s numbers alive. That whoooole thing is very closely connected to concepts that delve wayyy down into the very core beginnings of my headcanon, BUT, for the sake of my time and energy, we will cover that in another entry.)
[And where does he usually keep him?]
Since he’s moved to Piston Peak, Blade’s had a couple of rooms and add-ons put into his hangar...well, okay, two. One extra room is his, as the rest of the team calls it, “Secret Lair” that is literally just a library and reading room, while the other is Trigger’s dedicated room. It has enough room and personalized structure that it’s the greatest place to keep a large reptile, complete with heating lamp and beds and a kiddie pool that he barely touches. Of course, Trigger isn’t always just in that room (much to Maru’s dismay) but it is where he spends most of his time, lounging around between troublemaking.
[What does he feed him?]
What Tegus eat, of course! Though, since there are no mammals left on earth (that we know of), most of Trigger’s diet consists of salmon, alongside fruits and some insects, eggs (that are expensive as hell because chickens are low in population but high in demand) and other types of fish. It’s a good thing Blade’s well-off financially at this point (being a bachelor and chief of the fire and rescue, and with practically nothing he spends on himself or anyone else) so he can make sure Trigger has exactly the kinds of nutrients he needs.
[Is he passionate about this pet, or just likes a little company by this creature?]
Both, to varying degrees. While he initially took him in to help out the animal center (with the knowledge that they would want Trigger breeding to females to raise those population numbers back up), he’s really come to enjoy the reptile’s company, and as such he’s become pretty interested in tegus and other reptiles. He’s often said he’d get another tegu or some other reptile from the center in the future, maybe after Trigger passes (which won’t be any time too soon).
[Does he talk to him?]
He does, though not usually when others are around. Unless he’s trying to get him to stop terrorizing the mechanic...
[Does he take it to bed with him when he is lonely like I take my cat to my bed (to which she always runs off to another room)?]
It depends on the night, really. Most of the time, Trigger stays in his own room/enclosure overnight, but oftentimes Blade will let him sit on his helm while he’s reading before attempting sleep. Trigger likes pretending he’s getting heat off of the reading light.
5 notes · View notes
albeyurich · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Photographs taken in Stormterror's Lair.
Notes: Photos with questionable quality because I'm Mobile Player.
Sharing/Reposting in other media my old photos in Genshin Impact. You can see some of my photographs on HoYoLab (AlbeYurich).
4 notes · View notes
jotatetsuken · 2 years
Text
hello there <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
aisha/shyna • she/her • indian • 27 • selfships • ko-fi • masterlist • header creds: @amberswords (thank you once again 💖)
Tumblr media
you can catch me talking about jotaro kujo, tetsuro kuroo or kento nanami often hehe <33
url changes: @/musingsofanextrovert -> @/tetsukentona -> @/jotatetsuken
❛ byf/dni ❜ • ❛ collabs ❜ • ❛ character rules ❜ • ❛ favorite characters list ❜
❛tags navi❜ • ❛moots❜ • ❛ rules/writing rq ❜ • ❛ my ocs ❜
recents: sunkissed| summer paradise | [11:30pm] | [8:00pm] | dear theodosia | meant to be
networks: @tokyometronetwork • @hanayanetwork • @downtown-roponggi
collabs & events: shyna's seiyuu birthday celebration - edition 3 • ...that wears the crown collab • i was never good at sports collab • kento nanami’s birthday special
inbox = 68 (will get to y’all soon so sorry)
to receive updates about my fics, fill taglist form or follow @shynahasabookshelf (my library blog, turn on notifications)
Tumblr media
Sideblogs: @musings-and-moans (NSFW Blog; Ageless Blogs, Blank Blogs, Minors DNI!) • @anikasenkujo (Jojo OC) • @shynahasabookshelf (library account) • @shys-cafe-lair (RP Blog, Minors, Ageless, Blank Blogs Please DNI)
Tumblr media
✍🏼: july 17th, 2022 • 🎧: meherbaan - shilpa rao, ash king • 📺: jojo’s bizarre adventure: stone ocean• 📖: jjba steel ball run and blue lock, the book thief
current concern: Can Jotaro stop showing up in my dreams? /j /lh
Tumblr media
© Shyna 2021 (blog was established in 2011, but started writing in 2021) - As I post on Wattpad & Instagram under the same username, and Quotev under RushiMushi16, (and will start writing on AO3 soon), I do not give permission to repost, modify, translate or share my works on any other platforms. I'd appreciate it if I'll be notified about situations like these should they occur. Also, if you're inspired by my content, please do speak with me before you credit me.
Tumblr media
11 notes · View notes
Note
Lol I have messaged Deuxmoi and she now talks to me quite freely if I ask her for opinions or ask her a question. It started because I corrected her on one of her posts because the facts were all wrong and i was kind of fed up of false information being taken as fact. She ended up reposting it to her story as complete facts, for all she knew I could have been lying out my ass (I wasn’t but that’s not the point). She freely talks to people if they don’t hate on her or are nice. Her insiders are not real insiders. Sure she may get the odd one or two but my bet is it’s those other gossip accounts or D list socialites like that Amanda is not fat girl. I don’t believe for a second someone knowing Olivia is telling Deuxmoi she is a mess. The only people who would know that are her close circle. Another way to tell she is a lair is when she said months ago she knew Harry was annoyed with the Shia situation and blindsided. However when she spoke to me she said she herself would assume he is annoyed which contradicts her stating it as facts. Other stuff has been shared between us and she not once said anything as facts, it’s all her own thoughts. Don’t believe Deuxmoi unless there is actual evidence. The woman is nice though and easy to talk to. Believe me or don’t but this is what I have experienced with her.
.
1 note · View note
adamthefifth · 1 year
Text
Introductory Post or something I guess
Hi there. My name’s Adam, I was on here a while ago but left, now I remade my account in the wake of Twitter’s Elonpocalypse. So to speak.
Anyway uhhh, I occasionally draw and write stuff and have my own website for my own written series called Partners in Crime about silly supervillain and hero shenanigans in a town overraught with the former. If that interests you I’d appreciate you checking it out.
(Link here: https://adamwoytila.wixsite.com/masterminds-lair)
But uh, yeah, dunno if I’m actually gonna use this too much unless I have some art to share, and I’ll likely just be reposting shit from my other accounts for the time being.
So... Howdy, y’all.
1 note · View note
Share a Lair 14 || Share the Details
Max was honestly stressed out for nothing. He spent all of this time trying to talk his way up to the news, and whenever he actually finally spit it out, Charlotte was relieved and surely didn’t seem any of the things he’d been afraid about. She laughed a little and said, “I honestly thought that you were about to break up with me moments after your mother posted me dancing and tagged me to it on her page.”
“I’d never break up with you,” he said, then, “Wait, what?” He checked his mother’s birthday album for the twins and sure enough, there was a post of Max dancing around Charlotte, who was way more reserved, but so dang cute! Max loved it and almost went through to read all of the comments, but Charlotte cut into that mission.
“It’s just that sometimes, I can’t tell if you’re as deep into this as I am. You just have so many important things to do. By comparison, I’m kind of relegated to something fun on the side,” she said.
He put his phone into his pocket and sat down next to her, “That’s never been the case for me. Mostly, I haven’t wanted to scare you off, because my feelings for you are SO intense that I have to rationalize and reign myself in, like, “Max, this is NOT the way to handle this. But, I don’t have a huge frame of reference, because I haven’t had many serious relationships and this is only the second time that I’ve been in love…” As soon as he said it, they both gasped. But, while this apprehensive expression poured over his face, hers lit up at the same speed and they looked at each other, both became confused and expressions switched to match the other one’s, then again they both realized that they were inadvertently making statements with their faces and they both started laughing at this. They leaned towards each other, laughing and Charlotte reached out to collect him into her arms and moved him to lay back on her chest.
“I’m in love, too.” She said it very softly and stroked his hair with even more gentleness.
“I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of me, just being able to admit that out loud, and hearing you say it too, is like… The perfect birthday present.” She kissed the top of his head and hooked her arms under his. He rested his hands on hers and whispered, “Can I spend the night with you?”
“Of course,” she said and rubbed his chest, one of her legs now comfortably wrapping around him, as well. He sat up and she was momentarily missing his body.
But, he turned to face her, hands sliding up her party dress as he stared into her eyes, “No… I meant… I want to spend the night with you, Charlotte…” She shifted to allow him better access beneath her dress and nodded her head, unable to break eye contact with him, as intense as it was. Had that been all that he had been waiting for? To be able to say he loved her? To have her say it, as well? She wasn’t sure. But, that didn’t matter. It was go time! He leaned forward and she leaned back.
“My bed is pretty small,” she whispered. But Max simply extended his hand, and within moments, the spare bed had been slid across the floor, right next to this bed. She smiled. “That was hot.” He just smiled. He loved when she said things like that to him, and he was ready to prove himself to her.
.
Whenever Charlotte came into the “Danger Column,” she was humming joyfully and carrying a ton of stuff with her. “Hey Char, what’s all that stuff?” Jasper wondered.
“Just some things that I got from home over the weekend,” she said. “Sort of officially moving in with Max.” She continued on her way and Jasper squinted his eyes as she set her things on the rolling cart, “I know that they’ll be gone soon, but what we might wind up doing is me living here for however long they’re here, then when it’s time to relocate, I’ll be looking for a place for us outside of Share-A-Lair.”
Jasper nodded his head, then wondered, “Who’ll be gone soon?”
She laughed a little then looked at his genuinely curious face. “Umm.,, the guys, from this site. Or at least Max, will be. Maybe not Henry, if he hasn’t said anything. He’d certainly tell you before he would anybody else, I’m sure.”
“No. He’d probably tell YOU before anybody else. What do you know, Charlotte?”
She fumbled her hands around packing the cart and tried to find something that MIGHT distract Jasper from the suggestion that Henry might be leaving and hadn’t said anything to him. It probably was a misunderstanding on her part, so she definitely didn’t want to add to that fuel, But, there were very few things that could distract Jasper from the subject of Henry, and if her moving in with Max wasn’t enough (hell, that only caused more questions), then she was probably about to open her mouth and insert and poorly constructed lie foot. “I know what it feels like to have thunder coursing through my body.”
“Don’t change the subject. Thunder can’t course throughOHMYGODYOUANDMAXFINALLYDIDIT???” And just like that, she had deterred him away from the Henry subject and she texted Hen a warning about it as Jasper had to know everything, “How’s it shaped? Is it as perfect as we imagined through the gray sweatpants? Can you draw me a sketch of it? Better yet… Did you get pix?”
“I… had already seen it before. Calm down there, Bud…”
“Did you sing Happy Birthday to him like Marilyn Monroe? That’s what I would’ve done.”
“I didn’t. Honestly, it was just really slow and sweet and steamy,” she said, nodding.
“Awwww. You went easy on him. You must really be in love!” Jasper gushed.
She smiled hard enough to hurt her face, “I did!… And, I am. It’s really cool. I haven’t been this close to anybody in a while, and even then, it was you know, just… not like this is.  I’ve never had to take things slowly, and I’ve never had to learn to trust or have someone learn to trust me after the emotional connection. I’ve never had to be patient for a guy to be ready for me and I certainly have never had to go easy on somebody. It’s equal parts centering and exciting!”
“Did you at least warn him that you were a raging ball of aggression in the bedroom?” Jasper asked.
“I am NOT!” She said, then giggled a little, “I mean, I haven’t had any complaints!” She gasped, “You think that I’ll frighten him if he gets Take Charge Char?”
“I think Take Charge Char is far more hot than she is scary, but the scary is a good scary. That “roller coaster ride scary,” not “a bear in the woods while you’re camping” scary. But, more about the di-”
“Naw. I gotta get this stuff to my new place!” She said and began rolling the cart out of the tower, with a huge smile on her face.
.
Henry looked at Max approaching and wondered, “Are you late, or am I uncharacteristically early?”
Max looked at his watch and said, “I’m late…. Wait, why did I look at my watch? OF COURSE, I’m late. Like you’d ever be early.” Henry laughed and rolled his eyes, then heard his phone and checked Charlotte’s text. “Uh uh. Phone away. It’s training time,” Max said, setting his things down.
“You’re one to talk. You were late today!” Henry said, then groaned at the text message, “Your delightful girlfriend just told Jasper that I might be leaving soon. Why would she do that?” Henry had taken to sarcastically using positive words for Char whenever he was irritated by her, to avoid interference from Max, that he was certain could result in either his own derision or demise. Better safe and sarcastic than sorry.
“Have you not talked to Jasper about possibly leaving here?” Max wondered, stretching.
Henry put his phone into his bag and said, “I’ve brought it up a few times that I was probably gonna go on some far off missions with you, but I think that he’s not hearing that I might be leaving soon.”
“Are you SAYING that you might be leaving soon to him?” Max asked.
“Did you SAY it before you told Char over the weekend?” Henry asked right back.
“Are you and Jasper in the same situation and Char and I?” Max wondered.
“No, but… you can’t be pot kettling or whatever.”
“Different situations, Dude,” Max said. “I wanna marry Charlotte someday, but as it stands, she’s technically not my best friend. I mean… That’s a goal, definitely, but it isn’t our reality. You and Jasper have been together your entire lives and he follows you everywhere. Not telling him that somewhere may be another country is a little different from me having anxiety about admitting to a short term girlfriend the same thing… He is gonna come with you, right?”
Henry shrugged his shoulders, “I kinda want him to figure out his own thing. I’ve been doing some soul searching and I realize that while I’ve been putting everybody else first and working on saving other people, Jasper’s been doing the same thing, but for me.”
They continued stretching and Max commented, “Maybe that’s what he wants to do.”
“Maybe. But, I’ll feel better if he has some time to look inside and really determine that, you know? Would you want Charlotte to just pack up and leave and come along with us to Russia?”
“Yes. But, yet again - not the same situation.”
Henry sighed, annoyed and commented, “I am so ready to swing punches at your face now.”
“I am ready to watch you fail to land them.”
.
“Okay. I am ready to do THAT for the rest of my life,” Max said. Charlotte simply laughed. It was nice, but she was certainly sore. She hadn’t had to work her thigh muscles like that before, or at least in a while. She forgot about all of the “additional” that came along with this. It didn’t matter, though. Max was here with her, and he wanted her, and he wanted this. She had no complaints.
He laid in Charlotte’s arms, ready to forsake Russia, the T Force, the Hero League, anything else that dared to come between him and this feeling that he had right now, in this very moment, wrapped up in her, bodies connected, spirits aligned.
“Whether it’s 3 months or 6, I want to be with you, okay?” She whispered.
He nodded. Of course. He wanted to throw a ring on her and pop a baby in her, but that was a bit much for right now, so he just said, “You could move into the lair, if you want. That might give us a little more time together before the changes happen.”
“Wouldn’t you have to run that by Share-A-Lair?” She wondered.
“Running it by them for me includes sending them a message that it’s happening.”
“Oh, so you got it like that, huh?”
“I’m the man.” He kissed her fingertips and asked, “Do you not want to?”
She smiled, “I think that’d be cool. I mean, it’s only for a few months, then you’re off to Russia, so it isn’t like there’s a danger of us growing sick of each other. Besides, I practically live there now and gas to and from for when I’ve gotta come back here is pretty pricey.”
“You think that we’ll grow sick of each other when we’re around each other more?” he wondered. “I can’t imagine ever being sick of you. I imagine you being the main thing that makes me feel well in a very sick world where I have to battle sick people.” She just smiled. He was strumming her skin lovingly with his fingertips and seemed like he had a lot going through his mind.
“Will we be able to visit each other at all? When you’re in Russia?” She asked.
“It’s not final that I’ll be in Russia… but, I will have a lair, hidden beneath the property of my secret identity. If you want, you can certainly visit me, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to leave during the tour.”
“Cool. I’ve never really thought about Russia, but I’m going to look into it. Add it as a place for me to be able to visit a time or two in the next few years… You are only gonna be gone for a few years, right?”
“Three,” he said.
“Yeah, I’ve done this long distance thing for longer before. We’ve got this.”
He looked at her and gave her a kiss. “Can we…”
“Again?”
“If it isn’t asking too much…”
“It’s not!” She smiled. “Come here…”
.
Each day, Charlotte came in a little less chipper and a little more sore looking. Jasper smirked every time, until one day, maybe about a week later, he straight up asked, “You can’t handle the D, can you?”
She let out a relieved sigh and a chain of word vomit, “Dude, I can’t even get to the point where I’m at my usual performance level with Max, because whenever we get down to it, his physical superiority and stamina outrun my experience and prowess. What does it matter if you can do fun little tricks, if after a few minutes, you’re ready to pass out, just as he’s getting warmed up? He is a leading world  superhero, with nearly perfect health, and impeccable bodily preoccupation! He can do some GLORIOUS shit with body. I mean, leave you speechless tier. And… I can handle about 10 minutes of him, then I’m just there because if I move, I might collapse. I have GOT to add cardio to my daily schedule!”
Jasper nodded his head, cordially the entire time she was speaking, but as soon as she stopped, he simply asked, “Okay, but how big is it?” She stared at him for a moment before walking away. “Bigger than Henry’s? Surely.” He gasped, “Is it bigger than mine? Are there other personality traits to it? Like a curve or a slightly fatter top? OH! He’s… cut, isn’t he? You know what, you should see if he’ll let you take a photo of it, so we can research.”
“Jasper!” She finally shrieked. “Shut. Up.”
“Right. You’re having a crisis. Here’s a solution! You let him take control until you get your own physicality up. Those are essentially pleasure filled workouts. He’ll like being in charge all the time, at least for a while, then whenever it seems like it’s boring and dull, POW! You’ll hit him with your modulation. He’ll be like… WHAT? There was a higher pleasure setting? Huh?? And you can stay on that level until you gain more endurance, and then, guess what? POW! Another modulation on him.” Jasper shook his head, “But, that’s probably not gonna work.”
“No, no… That’s… I can work with that. My legs haven’t burned this much since I started marathon training in junior high!”
“I forgot that you used to do that!” Jasper said.
“So did my thighs.”
He laughed and said, “RIP Charlotte’s hamstrings.”
“Rude!” she snapped. They looked at each other, “But, accurate.” He laughed again and she tried not to, because it wasn’t funny and she didn’t want to encourage him. But, in spite of herself, she had to laugh a little.
She definitely regretted it when a moment later, Jasper slid a pencil and a piece of paper to her and said, “What if you just sketch it for me? As true to life as possible, please?”
She gave him a small, tight smile, picked up the pencil and said, “Imagine for a moment that this was one…” Then, she snapped it in half with her thumb and threw it down on the table. Jasper gasped as she got up and walked over to her work area in the lab.
“He… He has a pencil one?” He wondered, in horror. She just left it alone. Maybe if he thought that, he’d give it a rest! “I’ve been sweat-fished!” He whined. That sounds disgusting.
3 notes · View notes
the7thcrow · 3 years
Text
ateez masterlist
~
all works are copyright 2021-23 @the7thcrow, all rights reserved. please do not edit, modify, translate or repost on any platforms. i will only be crossposting on ao3, under the same username. thanks loves <3
started: july 15th 2021
last updated: june 4th 2023
Tumblr media Tumblr media
park seonghwa:
one-shots:
daisies. ~ seonghwa x (fem) reader // summer camp au // childhood friends to lovers // wc: 11.0k (2021)
one last trip. that was what you wanted. to let yourself dream of your childhood sweetheart one final time, before closing that chapter of your life forever. however, the last thing you expected was for him to actually be there.
toxin. ~ historian!seonghwa x (fem) goddess!reader // god/goddess au // meet-ugly // wc: 9.4k (2022)
having fallen victim to a rather bizzare betrayal by a colleague, seonghwa finds himself in an even more bizarre situation. that being the unexpected success of their summoning ritual that leaves him subject to the will of a fertility goddess, as well as his own intemperate desire.
Tumblr media
kim hongjoong:
one-shots:
nighthawks.~ designer!hongjoong x (fem) writer!reader // non-idol au // meet-cute // wc: 5.9k (2022)
you share a night, a cigarette, and a sobering conversation with a beautiful stranger. a glimpse of normality for you troubled nighthawks.
Tumblr media
jeong yunho:
no works… yet :)
Tumblr media
kang yeosang:
one-shots:
ideal woman. ~ yeosang x (fem) reader // gang au // romance // wc: 10.5k (2022)
at the only bar in town where the lines drawn between different gangs becomes blurry, you spot your intellectual rival involved in one of the biggest underground organizations the city has to offer. responsible for the recent heist on your warehouse, as well as the death of multiple of your gang’s own members, he’s understandably considered someone that you should not be talking to. you buy him a drink.
Tumblr media
choi san:
one-shots:
glutton. ~ san x (fem) villain!reader // medieval/greek god au // past lovers to enemies // hamartia collab // wc: 8.2k (2021)
the country is in shambles. war and fire sweep through the many towns as an army wreaks endless havoc. your past lover san, the one who has been blessed and favoured by the god hades himself, has been taken hostage by the enemy. that enemy is you.
forever and a bit. ~demon!san x (fem) reader // mafia au // established relationship (sorta?) // wc: 5.6k (2021)
in a meeting of high stakes, you are forced to resort to desperate measures in order to make it out of this gang affair alive. these measures have a name of course, a demon called san.
Tumblr media
song mingi:
no works… yet :)
Tumblr media
jung wooyoung:
one-shots:
atonement. ~ witch!wooyoung x (fem) hunter!reader // supernatural au // enemies to lovers // wc: 6.2k (2022)
get in, get the job done, get out before sunrise. as a hunter that is your motto, a sacred rule for whenever you dare to enter a witch’s lair. however, on this particular solo quest, your plans take a turn that you never could have quite anticipated.
Tumblr media
choi jongho:
no works… yet :)
Tumblr media
multi-member:
series:
not all that glitters is gold. ~ (fem) princess!reader x seonghwa x san x wooyoung // fantasy au // poly // current wc: 130.2k (in progress). *𝓷𝓮𝔀!*
as a princess fleeing a royal assassination attempt, you have no choice but to put your trust in a band of three thieves in order to reach the kingdom of kuroku alive. however, amongst magic, deceit, and the bounty hunters that are hot on your trail, you realize that you might have stumbled upon a relationship far more complicated than what meets the eye.
201 notes · View notes
meistwentyinchheels · 3 years
Text
his wish
Tumblr media Tumblr media
; diluc ragnvindr x gn!reader
; fluff to angst
; warnings: mentions of blood and injury, ANGST, not proofread, possibly grammar errors
; form: imagine
; word count: 1.2k
; published: 02.04.21
; author’s note: heyyyy this is my first time writing a fanfic, but please do note that english is not my native language so i’m very much prone to making grammatical errors. the beginning is also a bit wonky cuz i wrote it at 1am lmao
Tumblr media
The silence was unbearable. All you could hear was the crackling of the fireplace and Diluc’s sigh as he looked at you. “I thought I specifically told you not to take that commission and look where you are now” Diluc said as he stepped closer to you, “I got worried when I heard that you’d been injured badly and in need of immediate medical assistance”. You looked down and pouted, “I know and I regret it now. Look at me I now have a stupid cast on my leg”. Diluc sighed once again and stepped even closer nearly touching and whispered, “At least next time avoid taking commissions with a higher risk, but if you do still wish to do so at least ask me for help”. As soon as you heard him say that you slightly laughed and looked at him in the eyes. He leaned down so your lips touched and it was as if you were made for each other. His lips were soft and always made your head slightly dizzy. He was never too harsh with you, always putting your own needs above his. “I love you”, he whispered to you after he pulled away.
His eyes were much softer when he was looking at you. With others, especially Kaeya, he had a cold look in his eyes showing that he isn’t the slightest bit interested in whatever the person talking to him was saying. But you, you broke down his walls enough for him to come completely undone. It was as if he was complete putty when you were around. His eyes always looked for you when he heard your voice. He was completely enamored by you. You were the one person who broke down his walls and loved him as who he is and not as the handsome and rich bachelor from Mondstadt. You made him feel like he was on cloud nine whenever he was around you and he loved you for that. You made him feel alive, like he was indeed breathing and right by your side. So why were you taken away from him like that?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was as if the archons were ridiculing him. He had his father taken away from him right in front of his eyes, so why did you have to suffer the same fate? The rain, the blood and whatever mess he just stumbled upon reminded him so much of his father’s fate.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You had just recovered from your broken leg, that you had gotten due to a stupid decision to climb up onto a tree to “sneak attack” the Abyss Mage you had been after. You fell off the tree, broke your leg and had your butt handed to you by the Abyss Mage. Sounds bad, right? Compared to the situation you had just gotten yourself into, that was nothing. It was raining more than it usually did, but you didn’t let that bother you as you went to seek out the Abyss Herald for a commission. You needed the money you could obtain from this commission as you didn’t want Diluc to constantly pay for your expenses. When you had first accepted the commission Katheryne had advised you to get at least two others to help on this commission as it was an incredibly dangerous one. You should have listened to her more carefully.
The Herald’s movements were fast as you just nearly avoided another spinning attack. You had already been hit several times and now you were rapidly losing blood. “Damn Abyss Herald!” you shouted as you swung your sword and managed to injure the abyssal creature. The Herald stepped back slightly and aimed at your neck, but you ducked just in time to avoid it, its blades cutting your hair instead. This one-sided battle of you being on constant defense and the Herald on constant offense had been going on for at least a few hours. The sun was already starting to set and a part of you hoped that someone, anyone, would save you before you ultimately meet your demise. That someone would arrive moments too late.
An adventurer had heard the clashing of blades and screams of agony from far away as he rushed towards the noise. There he saw you fighting the Abyss Herald. “They’re the one who took that commission?” he asked himself quietly, but quickly realized you require immediate assistance. He knew he was no match for it so he went back to Mondstadt to quickly get anyone to help with defeating the thing. Diluc had overheard the ruckus that was going on outside the Angel’s Share and told Charles to take care of the tavern for a bit as he went to see what was going on. A group of adventurers were arguing amongst themselves and Diluc widened his eyes when he heard what one of them said. “Didn’t (Y/N) take the Abyss Herald commission by themselves?”.
Diluc narrowed his eyes and immediately approached the adventurers. “May I know just where (Y/N) is?” he asked them with a dangerous glint in his eyes. The adventurers immediately recognized the man as Master Diluc and shared a look with each other. Everyone in Mondstadt knew about their relationship and they were beyond terrified to see Diluc himself right in front of them. “They’re near Stormterror’s Lair and last I saw they were fighting the Abyss Herald, albeit injured” one of the adventurers spoke up and nearly missed the look of worry that flashed in his eyes. “Thank you” Diluc said and immediately went out to look for (Y/N). He ran straight towards the Stormterror’s Lair to find you and save you.
He arrived just mere seconds too late. The moment he found you the Herald had just stabbed you straight through your stomach. It felt as if his heart stopped when he saw what happened. The Herald noticed Diluc approaching and fled, not wanting to deal with him as it was able to tell that Diluc is incredibly strong. As soon as the Herald vanished, Diluc dropped his claymore and ran towards you. You were covered in stab wounds and blood as blood dribbled down your mouth. “I’m sorry”, you whispered as Diluc held you. The light in your eyes was fading and Diluc panicked, knowing you would die if he does absolutely nothing. “I’ll get someone to help you, okay? Just hang in there a bit more” he said in a whisper, but you grabbed his wrist and said, “Don’t. We both know I’m not making out of this alive. Just know that I will always love you”.
At this point Diluc’s tears were starting to cloud his vision as your grip on his wrist was getting weaker. The rain was mixing with your blood and Diluc could see your breathing had slowed even further. “Damn it, I’m so sorry I was late, I love you so much so why are you leaving me” he sobbed as he held your near lifeless body. By the time more help had arrived you were already gone, the light in your eyes forever on Diluc’s mind. He wished he had said “I love you” more often, he wished he had gotten to hold you tight once more and he wished he could have put a ring on your finger. But now you were gone, leaving him alone with his sorrow. He started focusing more on his vigilante life, ending all members of the Abyss Order he encountered. And he swore, he will one day avenge your death by killing the Abyss Herald.
Tumblr media
© meistwentyinchheels; written by meistwentyinchheels - do not edit or repost
112 notes · View notes
dontwarnthetadpoles · 3 years
Text
Unpopular opinion of the day
Reposting (with an update) this long answer i wrote in a discussion about what Xander adds to the show.
Strange view of life to think that people (even fictional characters) must be useful or they have no value and should be then written off. It’s an accusation that has often been thrown to the scoobies, usually by baddies (Spike did it a lot), to discourage them and kill their team spirit (”Buffy doesn’t need you”,”you’re just a burden”) but it has no moral ground and ultimately leads to a dead end. Everyone have been accused of being useless at one point: Buffy was forced in season 3 to defend her mission as a slayer against her own mother because she couldn’t eradicate vampires, only save few lives here and here.
Xander's years on Buffy's side as a member of the gang with Willow and the ones who loved and supported them is a story about friendship, loyalty, courage, family, forgiveness, not a performance or a competition in which he must prove himself or leave.
Just like Cordelia, who strangely isn't attacked with the same level of hate for being a bully and staying a bully, even after she joined the scoobies and started dating Xander (her mean comments that she justifies as form of “honesty”, except she’s only honest about “truths” that hurt, are as violent as Xander's sexism), Xander is just a scared kid, especially during seasons 1 to 3, who tries to do the right thing despite not having any special abilities, putting his life in danger in the process.
I get that not everyone is moved by the acting, but i personally think the actor brought a strong likeability and heart to the character, while the writing wasn’t helping him (just like Cordelia again).
But if people want evidences of his contributions to validate him as 3 dimensional person/fictional human being, here a list of his achievements that nobody can't deny:
In season 1: he followed Buffy in the tunnels to bring back Jesse, he stopped the Harvest with the gang, he was on the rescue team to free Willow from Moloch, he saved Giles life in The Puppet Show when the demon was very close to cut his head and take his brain, in Prophecy Girl: he went to Angel's appartment and forced the vampire to take him to the Master's lair to help Buffy, he performed CPR on her, saved her life. Thanks to him, she stopped The Master, killed him and avoided an apocalypse.
In season 2: he saved Giles, Willow, Cordelia, and Jenny from the Anointed One who was going to use them as a sacrifice in a revivification spell to bring back the Master, he saved Cordelia from a fire in Some Assembly Required, protected Willow from the Mummy, was used as a bait by Angel to try to kill Spike In School Hard, helped Buffy to stop the Bezoar in Bad Eggs while everyone else was mind controlled by the monster, saved Willow from Angelus when he took her hostage and threatened to kill her, rescued the children in Killed by Death, went undercover in Go Fish and saved Buffy’s life when she was trapped with the ancient swimmers of the school team turned monsters by their coach, he rescued Giles in Becoming.
In season 3: he’s less involved in the fights but managed to kill his faire share of vampires when Buffy was in LA, he tried with Oz to save Willow and Buffy from the fairy tale monster, prevented the destruction of the school in a massive explosion planned by zombies in the Zeppo, helped to stop the massacre planned by vamp Willow at the Bronze, tried to reach and help Faith when she went bad and it almost get him killed, bought for Cordelia her dream dress for The Prom , in Graduation he convinced Anya to share what she knew about the Ascension and lead the army of students in the final battle against the mayor.
In season 4: his speech to Buffy where he confessed she was his model, the hero he thinks about during difficult times was an essential part of Buffy’s decision to not give up College. He helped saved Oz when he was captured by The Initiative, and was part of the spell, the “Heart”, in the final battle against Adam.
In season 5-7: he took care a lot of Dawn and helped Buffy raised her in season 7, helped Giles build a training place for Buffy under the magic shop, their house with Anya was often a place to gather and hide for the Scoobies, he stopped Dark Willow when she tried to end the world, he lost an eye while fighting against the First.
He fed the team: brought comfort food during the long nights of the endless research, was tasked many times to get the essential ingredients for the spells at the magic shop, showed support and shared too many hugs to count them, with the girls when they needed a pep talk.
In Buffy’s words, he put his heart, soul and body (while having his own family issues and trauma that were never properly adressed) in his relationship with the gang and lost everything that he possessed when Sunnydale disappeared (Anya, his home), so yeah the sexism and jealousy are bad but even so he’s clearly underrated by the fandom.
18 notes · View notes
purple-goo-writes · 3 years
Text
The Rabbit’s Lullaby 1
Reposting the first part to keep better track of it!
Tracking tag for this is #rabbit’s lullaby!
There was a new Rogue in the game and a child, possibly a teenager, at that. This is something that Batman notes with grim acceptance. Not the first time that a child or a teenager has been dragged into the darkness of Gotham and won’t be the last. But this is the first time a sidekick has been shared between two of the Gotham Rogues without a double cross or the death of said Sidekick.
Killer Rabbit, the silent watcher and potentially deadly partner to both Killer Croc and Scarecrow. It honestly baffled Bruce that the two men even had a tentative alliance and all of it centered around one girl, who from what he could gather was at least near Tim’s age. The Little Bunny, as he heard Croc call her on a few occasions, was also a slippery little devil and when one Rogue was captured she would pop up again weeks later with the other Rogue, or in company of one of the Sirens. And despite her deadly knowledge of weaponry and tactics...Rabbit has never killed anyone. She has had a chance to kill Red Robin and Batgirl on more than one occasion and simply knocks them out or leaves them tied up. The girl even has enough experience to give Robin a hard time before she runs off after temporarily incapacitating him.
There was also the fact that he has never heard the girl speak. She was always silent and would ‘talk’ in ASL to Croc or Crane, but only sparingly. Rabbit was a lot like his daughter Cass when it came to speaking her mind with only her body language. And from what Bruce could tell from security footage and has seen in battle, Rabbit is rather sassy for such a tiny and silent person.
And despite the company the girl keeps and the actions of those around her, Rabbit still holds an air of innocence about her and a sunshine quality similar to Cass. If what Tim and Steph tells him is true, she also has vigilante tendencies despite being a Rogue. Saving people from muggers, helping lost children and the like.
Now if only he could find Concrete evidence that Rabbite existed outside of her villain name!
                                                      --------------
Alouette, gentille alouette
Alouette, je te plumerai
Aloutette, gentille alouette
Alouette, je te plumerai
Je te plumerai la tete
Je te plumerai la tete
Et la tete
Et la tete
Alouett’
Alouett’
Oh.
The french melody swept softly almost hauntingly through the abandoned sewer tunnels that made up Croc’s newest lair. The melody was accompanied by the soft dripping of water from the pipes above and the scrape of metal being sharpened. The singer being a tiny French/Chinese girl, in a porcelain rabbit mask and clothes that had seen better days, slowly and methodically sharpening her scythes as her large protector slumbered close by in his large nest of blankets and rags.
She had no memory outside of her age and name. She could only recall that she needed to run and hide, even though her instincts screamed at her to stand and fight. So, with her protectors’ help, Marinette became Killer Rabbit. After all it was easier to hide in plain sight when no one, not even you, knew your past. And Rabbit would always protect and serve her protectors, because they were the ones who saved Rabbit and created her. The heroes may think of her as soft, nice and innocent..and they could be right.
A ghost of a smile played on blue tinted lips as Marinette sung. Her voice echoing softly off the stone walls.
But if Rabbit had to...
Alouette, je te plumerai
Je te plumerai le bec
Je te plumerai le bec
Et le bec
Et le bec
Et la tete
Et la tete
Alouett’
Alouett’
Oh
She would pluck a bat and robin to protect her family.
102 notes · View notes
hoochieblues · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
tagged by the lovely @barbex ... can i sit at the cool kids table now? I’d tag it forward but I think a lot of my mutuals already do this so, if you see this and wish to consider yourself tagged, boom. Also, please feel free to tag me in things, especially if it keeps me accountable! 
I keep rambling about the process of finishing and reduxing my old fics, so I figured it was time to share something, especially while I contemplate exactly how I’m going to (re)release them.
Should I delete the old ones and start reposting? edit them as they stand? could get very confusing. I subdivided a lot of old chapters, changed things around and now, for example, The Bird That Fears The Cage is multiple chapters longer than the current iteration. What do, dear reader? What do? 
I had toyed (maybe still am...?) with wholly changing everything and going 3rd person narration - I originally wrote the Feasting on Dreams series in 1st person to challenge myself because I pretty much never write 1st person ever, and it does feel odd.. but it’s so ingrained to Meri’s character now, and I do like the removal of narrative distance. 
Anyway, jumping ahead in the timeline, here’s an excerpt from an upcoming chapter of FoD#4: Waking in Shadows. Some of the first new writing I’ve done on this fic in about three years(!!!!). Set during DA:O, Nature of the Beast. The gang are still wombling helplessly around the Brecilian Forest, and Merien continues to have extremely poor perception stats. Oh, and there’s some horrible in the ruins. 
Zevran wrinkled his nose. “That smell…!”
I glanced at him and winced in agreement. “Bad, isn’t it? Not like darkspawn, though. It’s like… dead things, but things that have been dead a long time. Like stagnant death, not decay.” I sniffed again, and grimaced. “That, and dung.”
Zevran narrowed his eyes. “There is some kind of lair down here. Mark my words.”
Leliana caught her breath as her foot disturbed a pile of mouldering, brownish-mottled bones. “Something, certainly,” she muttered. “And I don’t think it’s more werewolves.”
“Agreed,” Alistair said through gritted teeth. “More like something… big. Anyone else want to turn back? Or is it just me?”
Leliana shuddered. “I agree. Perhaps we should go back after all. This does not seem safe.”
Sten snorted. “We are of numbers. There is no way through the main tunnel. We have come this far.”
I looked over my shoulder at the collected worried faces. “Sten’s right,” I said, injecting far more optimism into the words than I really felt. “How bad can it be?”
A murmur of dubious uncertainty ran through the group and, as I jutted my chin forward and progressed down the last few steps, towards the arching metal-studded door, now half-off its hinges and leaning with age, I thought I was being brave. I thought I was leading them.
Debris littered the floor: both stone and wood, and—more alarmingly—bits of bone and long-decayed armour. I was still assuming there had been a battle here, a war or perhaps some human assault on the elvhenan. It didn’t occur to me that I was picking my way over the remains of adventurers less fortunate than myself.
“Perhaps,” Zevran began, a note of concern in his voice, “we should—”
I didn’t hear him finish. I was squeezing through the gap in the door, and staring into the gigantic, vaulted chamber that lay beyond it. Here, again, the forest had broken into the ruin, and tree roots cracked the enormous walls. Most of what had clearly once been a hugely impressive space was now little more than a cave—still huge, but half-filled with the crushed ends of old glories. I began to make out the tiles on the floor—delicate inlays around the flagstones, almost buried beneath dust and bones and… soot. That seemed strange, and I would have commented on it, but something had caught my foot and, as I tugged against the resistance, the world turned white and hot.
The blast threw me clear, knocked the breath from me and left me sprawling on the dry, dust-grimed flagstones amid piles of filthy debris. I was disorientated, my ears ringing and my vision smeared with streaks of spots of blinding light. I seemed to be under a great, crushing weight, and I struggled to breathe, let alone get up, my fingers scrabbling uselessly against the rough stone floor. I was aware of the sensations; of my boots kicking against the flags, of the great tearing breaths I took and the sense of pressing, overwhelming pain, and yet all I heard was a dull roaring in my ears. Something smelled bad, too—like burning hair.
A bright flash and the sudden, violent embrace of light confused me further, as the heat and the burning smell subsided. I felt cold—a terrible, aching cold—and then, blinking and looking down at myself, I saw an ice spell evaporating across the chest of my leathers. I scrambled across the floor, spitting dust, I stared in confusion at the scorch marks and the remnants of flames, barely aware of my companions bursting into the chamber behind me.
I couldn’t really see much beyond the white echoes in my eyes, but quickly realised that—as I felt myself rising more easily from the stones—Alistair was hauling me up unceremoniously by the back of my jerkin, the way he had plenty of times before when I��d found myself flat on my ass in a battle. It chagrined me a little, because by now I’d thought perhaps I’d have learned my lesson… or at least learned not to need rescuing quite so much.
I wobbled a bit, but he didn’t let go. Though his lips were moving, the words didn’t quite reach me, and when I didn’t respond, he frowned and shook me by the scruff of the neck.
“…bloody idiot! What in the Maker’s name were you thinking? Hey, can you hear me?”
I nodded, my lip curling as I picked the insult out of the roar in my ears. “I’m fine. What was—”
“A tripwire with a weighted plate mechanism,” Zevran called from the doorway, rising from a crouch and dusting his hands together. “Very old. And quite sophisticated, but I am too awesome by far. Frankly, it was amazing the fire flask had held up with age. Next time, you should watch where you are going, yes?”
Everything still sounded fuzzy, but I was growing aware of a distinct sting on my cheek and one ear. I reached up, winced at the familiar feel of wet stickiness under my fingers, and saw Alistair’s expression soften a little.
“You’re a bit singed, but you’ll live. Um. Hold on. You’re… actually, you’re still slightly on fire back here.”
He reached out and batted a spark off my shoulder, and I realised that the unpleasant smell of crisp leather and burned hair was me.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Just… please don’t do that again?”
I nodded, and looked for Morrigan, to offer my thanks for the ice spell. She was at the edge of the chamber, scowling as she ran her fingers over some marks on the stones.
Sten unfolded to his full height once inside the doorway, and looked around with an expression of deep disgust. “More signs of the Tevinter. This place will be full of further traps, then. Or worse.”
“I agree,” Zevran said, toeing through some of the collected bones that littered the floor. “Who knows what was alerted to our presence. Speaking of which, is it me, or can anyone else hear—”
“Breathing?” Wynne supplemented, eyeing the broken stones at the far end of the chamber. “Now that you say it….”
I was still seeing spots and hearing buzzes, but I was with the others as we drew our weapons, bunching together in the open space at the top end of the chamber. Shadows pooled along its cavernous length, but there was definitely something out there, beyond the cracked fall of tumbled masonry.
Revasir muttered something in Elvish, and the air was filled with the taut creak of nocked arrows and waiting blades. A shadow moved among the shadows, and I thought I saw Sten smile, of all things, as he weighted his greatsword in his hands.
“Ataashi,” he said, his tone almost gleeful.
I didn’t know the word, but the sound I heard knocked the curiosity right out me. A low growl, like the dull drag of a knife on a whetstone, rumbled against the stones, and—at the far end of the broken chamber, amid the ruined blocks of masonry and age-worn carvings—I saw the creature that made its home here.
It was a dragon. An actual, Maker-sworn dragon.
Its sleek, vulpine head was almost as long as I was tall, and a number of short, curved spikes fringed its jaw, standing out proudly as it snarled, displaying a rank of stained, fearsome teeth, each one like a withered, grey tree branch.
The thing had to have been easily fifteen feet high and twenty-five feet long, its body a vast plane of muscles and interlocking scales, all in worn out tones of rusty greyish-red, like metal that’s gone too many years without cleaning.
It slunk out of the bolthole at the end of the chamber, huge talons ticking on the stones. There must have been a nest back there or something, I thought… did dragons make nests? All I had to go on was the stories I’d heard about Dragon’s Peak when I was a child, except this creature didn’t look anything like a benevolent protector of a city. It looked pissed off.
The dragon stretched out its wings and snarled—a terrible, screeching roar that shook the remaining teeth in my head—and planted its clawed feet far apart as it seemed to gulp in breath in a strange, hiccupping way that looked almost like a dog coughing.
“Shit. Take cover!” Alistair yelled, and he shoved me ahead of him, into the lee of a broken pillar.
We hit the dusty flagstones in a crash of legs and buckles, me balling up among the cobwebs and bones, and him holding his shield above his head as if it might serve for some kind of protection.
There was a terrible smell—like rotten eggs and burnt offal—then a great roaring, creaking gurgle that tapered into a screech I felt all the way to my gut… and the dragon belched flame. It scoured the ground a good ten feet in front of the beast, lighting up the cobwebs and the burned bones.
I curled up tighter, trying not to scream, aware of Alistair muttering a litany of words I’d never known him to use before. I peered out from under my elbow to see him looking at where the others were sheltering. Everyone seemed all right, but there was no getting out the way we’d come in: what remained of the entrance was a flaming mess of debris and cracked stone.
“All right… okay, this is fine,” Alistair muttered to himself, watching the dragon pace at top of the chamber, its head switching to and fro as it scented the hot, stale air. “Absolutely fine. Right. Uh….”
I pulled myself up on the pillar we were cowering behind, trying to get a better look at the thing.
“Flank it?” I suggested, glancing at him.
He blinked, dirt-smeared and shaken, then nodded. “The flame looks like it’s fairly forward-facing. If someone draws it down off there, the elves can fire at it, Wynne and Morrigan can pin the head, and we’ll take it down from the side.”
It was a good plan, but good plans came with catches. I smiled mirthlessly. “You make it sound so easy.”
The dragon let out another warning growl, its long, barbed tail scraping against the stones as it postured. It was so large, so… gnarled. We’d had a hard enough time fighting the sylvans, and they had neither teeth nor fire. I looked across the chamber, catching Zevran’s eye. He was sheltering behind a cracked stone block, smearing something on a dagger he’d pulled from his boot. I thumbed toward the dragon, then indicated the plan with what I desperately hoped were some helpful hand gestures. He looked mystified, and shrugged.
I sighed. I’d have yelled, but the beast roared, that great tearing shriek of a sound that seemed to shake the very walls of the ruin. Dust filtered down from the great arched roof, along with a few pieces of mossy greenery and leaf litter, and the dragon began to hiccough again, building up another gout of flame.
“Oh, Maker’s cock.”
I dragged myself up on the fallen pillar, fighting through the dizziness and the stomach-churning sense of being about to topple into some steep chasm, and got ready to sprint. I was skinny enough: there was a boulder at the back of the chamber I could hide behind—about where I’d squeezed through and nearly blown myself up, which maybe wasn’t the best omen for the plan.
“Go!” I yelled to Alistair as I jumped, running into the dragon’s path. “Go!”
He gave a yelp of protest as I shoved past him, and tried to catch my arm, but I twisted away, aware of him calling me three different kinds of insane. He was probably right, but nobody else had been about to do it.
My heart beat high and hard in my chest as the dragon rushed forward several paces, baring those vast, grey teeth. It turned its head to the side, fixing me with a golden-orange glare. I waved my arms, bounced a bit, and would’ve said something clever if my tongue hadn’t been stuck to the roof of my mouth. It snarled, so I ran again, drawing the beast down from its protected perch.
The flame roared again, and I flung myself behind the nearest piece of stone, hearing Sten give a battle cry as the familiar hum and crack of magic split the air. I let out a breath, and fumbled for my blade.
So far, so good. And it was just a dragon. Just an actual, real dragon. What could go wrong?
3 notes · View notes