#fanfic snippet

[dysfunctional-doodle]

Concept art of a possessed Donatello based on my current TMNT 2003 fanfic, In Nightmares (a rewrite of the 2012 episode Fungus Humungous but with a lot more angst and thrown into the 2003 universe)

You can check out the latest chapter with this link :)

Based on this segment:

[kumashhii]

Okay, so snippet I wrote based on a dream I had where Danny turned a giw agent to his side

"Y'know, anyone who is liminal is on their list right?"

"Yeah. Anyone who is ectocontaminated is taken in to custody so we can cleanse them and prevent it from happening again."

"..." Danny makes a strange face at the word cleanse.

A beat of silence passes between them

"You...uh you know how that sounds right?"

"What do you mean?" Nat looks confused.

"Cleanse. You know even if that's what they're really doing, they're killing them or at the very least injuring them, heavily. You can't be," Danny waves his hands, trying to find his words. "You, you cant just be *cleansed* of liminality! Once you're liminal, you're liminal! You're forever changed. Forcefully removing the ectoplasm can cause ...death by destabilization... It would be like trying to bleach the blood out of someone."

Nathaniel's face goes blank. "Oh ancients," Danny whispered in horror "How many people do they have contained? How many have they done this to??"

Danny looked at Nathaniel and nearly snaps at him for his lack of reaction, until he realized that Nathaniel's blank expression was one of dawning horror and panicked dissociation.

Danny reaches out his hand "Hey, are you-"

Nathaniel flinches back away from Danny. He was starting to hyperventilate .

"No no no no no!" You're lying! We didn't... I didn't.." Nathan curls in on himself, clutching at his hair. "I,I,I,I, I didn't....th, they,they told me we were helping people ." Nathan weakly shakes his head. Tears stream through his tightly shut eyelids.

The wave of emotions is truly overwhelming to Danny. The panic, fear, revulsion, pain, are all secondary to the sheer amount of guilt and betrayal the man is drowning in. Danny's core aches. He wants to help him, no, he needs to help him but he doesn't know how.

[freya-captain]

Ten-second trivia: WHO’s the father of Aegon’s baby?

Imagine the King’s first and Omega son Aegon was found out to be preggo without getting married. Rumors were flying around Kingslanding and everyone in the city was guessing who fathered Aegon’s unborn children. This became the number one topic in all the taverns, gambling houses, or even brothels.

Games were set and the hot candidates were his siblings, Helaena and Aemond Targaryen. Some others bet their money on the Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen, Harwin Strong (in this universe he didn’t leave KL) and Ser Criston Cole, the princes’ master-at-arms.

Aegon at first experienced pregnancy heat and been sleeping, not knowing all of these. When he woke up, he found it all entertaining and quite enjoyable. He refused to reveal the baby’s father no matter how Alicent forced him to. He wandered in Red Keep and pissed off everyone he met including the King’s Hand, Otto Hightower.

The votes changed everyday with every news updated. Like Ser Criston escorted Prince Aegon to Kingswood the other day or Helaena was flying dragons with Aegon today. When Rhaenyra and her family visited KL, there was rumors about the princess decided to take her younger brother as the second wife as Aegon the Conqueror.

Meanwhile Jacaerys Velaryon wondered why no one assumed it could be him. Aegon was like “cause you are too righteous and pure as virgin in the smallfolk’s eyes. Now stop pouting and come listen to our baby’s heartbeats”

[dragonpyre]

More fic snippits I'll never finish

“How you feeling?” The man asked. Jason opened his mouth to respond in the negative, but stopped at the last second. He actually felt… fine? What the fuck? His brain had literally just been getting stabbed by a rail spike not even thirty minutes ago. And how the fuck had he fallen asleep when in that much pain? He’d NEVER managed that before! “What the fuck did you give me?” He asked, bewildered. The concern smoothed away from Dick’s face. “So I take it you’re feeling better?” Jason pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Yeah, what the fuck?” Six months of this bullshit with no cure and one visit from his brother fixes it? Was Dick dabbling in witchcraft now? “What was that stuff?” A faint smile flitted across Dick’s lips. “Excedrin.” “The fuck is Excedrin?” “Acetaminophen and caffeine,” his brother answered easily. “Migraine meds.”

[awardenandacrow]

FANFIC SNIPPET 9

[dinner after commitment scene. The team shares dinner, then Lucanis brings out dessert and coffee. It’s a merry occassion, with lots of fun tales and laughter. Lucanis can be caught repeatedly looking at Rook, who is laughing over her coffee cup, and smiling. Notes are made. As the evening winds down, Naimeryn offers to stay and clean dishes, standing and beginning to gather plates.]

THANKS TO @/cahwrites ON THREADS - who gave me the idea of a first kiss while washing dishes :3

——————————————————————————

“Do you want an extra pair of hands?” Harding offered.

“Oh, sure -“

“Actually, Harding, there was something I wanted to discuss with you, if you wouldn’t mind accompanying me?” Emmrich said quickly. Naimeryn met his eye, and he gave her a quick wink. She frowned slightly, confused, watching as everyone but Lucanis cleared out, almost all of them with smirks on their faces. Oh. Were they… giving them time alone?

But then… but once they were gone, she felt immediately on edge. What now? She slowly set another plate on the stack in her arms.

Lucanis started to stand, and she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “You cooked!” She said with a smile she hoped didn’t betray her nerves. “I’ve got this. Just relax a minute.”

She went to the sink and started the faucet, depositing the pile of plates and silverware into the basin. She’d always liked doing dishes, even when she’d had no choice. Hot, soapy water up to her elbows, steam to warm up her shivering bones… no one bothering you. It was peaceful, and had often been her only solace amid chaotic days. She let out a slow breath and willed herself to relax. After all, what was there even to be stressed about?

“There’s no reason I can’t at least help you clear the table,” Lucanis said after a moment, and she heard his chair scrape back.

“Oh, all right,” she said with faux exhasperation. She started washing the dishes she had while he gathered the rest. She took another deep, steadying breath. It was just a little extra time together. No big deal, right?

His hand brushed the small of her back, his chest pressing into her shoulder as he leaned around her to deposit the pile he was carrying into the sink. She told herself to be calm, but being this close to him had her heart beating at a dizzying pace. She turned her head to thank him, a lighthearted smile parting her lips.

They met his, just an accidental brush of flesh where he’d been leaning in to peck her cheek. She gasped, pulled back slightly, remembering their almost-kiss, afraid he would flee again.

“I’m sorr-“ she began, her tone panicked.

“No,” he cut her off, meeting her eyes with his. They burned into her even as he pressed his lips back to hers.

The dishes forgotten, Naimeryn leaned into him, both of their eyes fluttering closed of their own accord. His mouth was warm. His mustache and beard tickled her face, first gently, then more aggressively as she turned and deepened their kiss. His arm snaked around her waist, holding her tighter against him, and despite her hands being wet, he did not flinch away as she tentatively placed one on his chest and the other on his bicep. A contented sigh escaped her.

Honey and lavender cream, indeed. Sweet. Warm. Soothing.

He pulled back enough to press his forehead gently to hers.

“Are we done thinking this is a bad idea, then?” Naimeryn asked breathlessly, losing the teasing edge she’d meant for the question to carry.

“Maybe we’ve just decided bad ideas are better,” he smirked, then planted a kiss on her nose. “But you should know… Spite has informed me the others are watching from the door.”

Naimeryn groaned. “Of course they are.”

“Spite, you’re no fun!” Taash yelled, then there was a chorus of laughter and the door slammed shut.

[istoleyoursphenoidbone]

Would You Fall In Love With Me Again?

DPxDC (With a smidgen of Epic the Musical)

Okay, so yall really liked my last one (and thanks to all of you, I'm glad you guys enjoyed). I wanted to try my hand again and see how this goes, idk about you guys, but Epic the Musical has been my soundtrack for weeks now, and the Ithaca Saga has my heart so...Husbands!Danny and Jason torn apart due to bad resurrection? Why not.

Warning for referenced character death and blood mention, nothing too graphic, tho. Pit Rage makes people do questionable things, ya know?

The Justice League's meeting room was cloaked in unnatural shadows, the atmosphere thick with tension, like the heavy silence before a storm. A team from Justice League Dark stood in the center, preparing for a ritual. Zatanna, her voice a whispered incantation, traced glowing glyphs onto the marble floor. Constantine, who had been trying to tell them all this would be a bad idea, leaned against the wall, a cigarette dangling from his lips despite the no-smoking signs, while Doctor Fate floated nearby, his ethereal presence a calm amid the chaos.

Batman stood at the edge of the circle, arms crossed. He hated magic—always had—but these were desperate times. Jason Todd, the Red Hood, had been spiraling for months. His vendetta against Gotham’s Rogues had left behind a trail of bodies, destruction, and secrets too dangerous to let slip. But it was more than just Jason’s rage. Strange energy readings tied to the Infinite Realms had begun to swirl around his every move. Whatever connection Jason had to that otherworldly dimension had become unstable, and they needed answers—answers only the Ghost King could provide.

“Are we ready?” Batman’s voice cut through the room. Zatanna nodded, stepping back as the last glyph flared to life. “The summoning spell is complete. Brace yourselves. This entity isn’t like anything we’ve dealt with before.” Constantine snorted, flicking his cigarette to the ground. “Ain’t that just bloody reassuring.”

The air split with a deafening crack, and green light spiraled upward, forming a vortex. From it stepped a figure draped in black armor, a faint crown glowing above his head, his eyes burning with an eerie green light. Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, stood before them. "Who dares to summon the High King of the Infinite Realms?" His voice carried an unearthly echo, a stark contrast to the mortal men and women in the room.

Constantine muttered something under his breath—likely a curse—but Wonder Woman stepped forward, her voice steady. “We require your assistance, Ghost King. There’s a man, the Red Hood, aka Jason Todd, whose actions have drawn the attention of both our realm and yours.” Danny’s eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening. “Jason Todd?” Batman stepped forward, his voice rough but resolute. “He’s my son.”

Danny’s gaze snapped to him, the glowing green light flickering with intensity. “Your son,” he repeated, his tone colder now, sharper. Zatanna stepped in to explain, her voice calm but urgent. “Jason is targeting Gotham’s Rogues, several have been killed. But it seems he has a connection to the Infinite Realms. His ectoplasmic energy is spiking. We believe he’s drawing power from your domain, whether he knows it or not.” Danny’s expression darkened, and his voice dropped to a low, almost imperceptible growl. “And you want me to stop him.”

“Not stop,” Wonder Woman corrected gently. “Help. If he’s tied to your realm, we need to understand why—and how to sever that connection, if necessary.” Danny stood motionless, the green light in his eyes flickering with a mix of emotions none of them could decipher. After a long moment, he nodded, sharp and final. “I’ll handle it. Alone.” Batman started to protest, but Danny cut him off with a steady gaze, his voice softening, just a fraction. “You’ve done your part. Let me do mine.” Without waiting for a response, Danny turned and stepped back into the swirling portal, leaving the Justice League in a heavy, uneasy silence.

---

The Infinite Realms churned around Danny as he passed through the portal, an energy that mirrored the restlessness gnawing at his heart. When he had been summoned, he had expected a crisis—another rift in the realms or a rogue spirit threatening the balance, hell even just cultists trying to mess with the order of things again. What he hadn’t expected was to be summoned to deal with him.

Jason...his sweet and loving Jason.

As the portal closed behind him, Danny heard Batman’s grim explanation echo in his mind: Red Hood was spiraling. He’d already killed Joker, Riddler, and Two-Face. And it seemed like Penguin was next. The Pit Rage had taken hold, and no one—least of all Bruce—had been able to pull Jason from the edge. The Justice League had turned to him because the energy Jason radiated had drawn their attention to the Infinite Realms.

It had been twenty years since Jason disappeared from the Realms—twenty long years since Danny had watched his husband, the man he had married in death, pulled from his side and resurrected in the mortal world. For Danny, it felt like an eternity.

As Danny emerged from the portal into Gotham’s shadowed streets, the oppressive energy in the air pulled at him, thick with Jason’s rage. He could feel the ectoplasmic aura that surrounded him, like a storm cloud about to break. But more than that, Danny could feel the familiar tug of Jason’s presence. It was raw, chaotic—lost.

And Danny? He was all too familiar with being lost.

There was no turning back now. Jason was out there, a tempest of pain and blood, and Danny couldn’t stop the wave of dread that surged through him. This was his husband—the man he had fallen in love with, over and over again—and now he was out of control.

Danny’s eyes glowed as he moved deeper into the city, knowing that whatever happened next, he wouldn’t be alone in facing it. Not this time. Jason Todd stood among the wreckage of a smuggling ring’s hideout. The docks were eerily silent except for the gentle lap of water against the pier. Blood slicked his gloved hands, and his breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. The Pit Rage roared in his ears, demanding more—more destruction, more vengeance, and more blood.

The ghostly glow appeared behind him, and Jason spun, guns drawn. The figure emerging from the green light made him falter.

Danny.

Jason blinked, the haze of rage momentarily thinning. He couldn’t trust his eyes, not after everything. But the way Danny looked at him—with love, pain, and something infinite in his glowing green eyes—cut through Jason’s defenses. “Jason,” Danny said softly, his voice trembling but steady. Jason lowered his guns, his shoulders slumping. “Danny?”

Danny stepped closer, his glowing cape billowing behind him. “It’s been twenty years.” Jason flinched. “Eight.” His voice cracked. “Only eight here.” Danny’s eyes softened. “It felt like forever.” Jason staggered back, shaking his head. “I’m not—” He gestured at the blood staining his armor. “I’m not who I was. You shouldn’t be here.”

Danny reached out but didn’t touch him, his hands hovering just inches away. “You’re still you, Jason. You’re still my husband.” Jason’s laugh was bitter, almost a sob. “You don’t understand. I’ve killed them. Joker. Riddler. Two-Face. There’s no redemption for me. I’ve left a trail of blood and bodies. I’m not the man you fell in love with. I’m not—”

“Stop,” Danny interrupted, his voice firm. “Stop telling me who you think you are. I know you. I’ve always known you.” Jason clenched his fists. “Would you still love me if you knew all I’ve done? The things I can’t take back? The lives I’ve destroyed?” Danny took a step forward, his expression raw with emotion. “Yes. I would. I do.” Jason’s knees buckled, and he sank to the ground, his hands covering his face. “I’ve tried to fight it, Danny. I’ve tried to be better, but the rage... it doesn’t stop. It’s like drowning, and every time I surface, there’s more blood.”

Danny knelt in front of him, his hand finally resting on Jason’s shoulder. “I know,” he said softly. “I’ve felt it too—the weight of things you can’t undo. But you’re not alone anymore. I’ve been waiting for you, Jason. Waiting for you to come back to me.” Jason’s breath hitched, and he looked up, his blue eyes rimmed with tears. “How can you still love me after everything? I’m not... I’m not the man you knew.”

Danny smiled, his own eyes glistening. “You’re still the man I fell in love with. You’re still the man who carved our initials into a tree in the Infinite Realms. The man who made me laugh, who promised me forever. And I meant it when I said forever, Jason. No matter where or when or what you’ve done, I’ll love you. Always.”

Jason let out a shuddering breath, and for the first time in years, the weight on his chest lightened. He leaned into Danny’s touch, the Pit Rage ebbing as warmth spread through him. Danny cupped his face, their foreheads touching. “You don’t have to carry this alone anymore. Let me help you. Let me love you.” Jason closed his eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t deserve you.” Danny’s laugh was soft and full of love. “That’s for me to decide. And I’ve decided—over and over again—that I’ll always choose you.”

Jason’s arms wrapped around Danny, holding him tightly as if afraid he might disappear. But Danny held him just as firmly, grounding him, anchoring him. The green glow of the Infinite Realms pulsed around them, a quiet promise of redemption, of love that could weather even the darkest storms.

---

Danny didn’t leave Jason’s side that night, nor would he ever again. Together, they began the long, painful process of healing. The road ahead wasn’t easy, but they faced it together, their love, a beacon in the darkness.

The heroes would just have to get used to the unearthly presence of the Ghost King in their plane of existence. And no matter how much time passed, Danny knew one thing would never change: he would fall in love with Jason Todd, over and over again, for eternity.

[bubblegumflavor]

Dally found Johnny at the lot. It wasn’t hard to guess, he was able to hear him bawl from all down the street.

He was sure he never heard Johnny cry so hard. He wasn’t much of a crybaby, he probably had the highest pain tolerance from all of the gang, but this wasn’t physical pain.. Johnny cried from a broken heart and he was the reason, him of all people.

Keep reading on Ao3 ♡

[tgmsunmontue]

Bradley: I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to taking your name. Jake: *coughs* *splutters* Jake: What? Bradley: Wait. No. I can’t. Then my initials would be BS and that’s just… that’s not acceptable. Jake: Oh my god, they would be BS. You should totally take my name when we get married. Bradley: When? Jake: Well, I’ll get around to asking eventually. Bradley: Why do you get to do the asking? Jake: Because you're slow Rooster. Bradley: *drops to his knees* Bradley: *pulls out a ring* Bradley: Not this time.

[wordsofwilderness]

I'm just gonna leave this here and skedaddle

Regulus wrapped his legs around James’ waist, locking his feet together. Yeah, this had to mean something. Regulus exposing himself like this, so comfortably, like it was second nature. Regulus? Who was usually so touch-shy, so protective of his own space. There had to be something more to it. Struggling with himself to pull back from the bliss that was Regulus’ lip, James said, “Fuck, we should really talk.” “Knot me again and then talk?” Regulus suggested, looking all too innocent considering the effect he was having on James. “Sound like the perfect plan,” James groaned, instantly giving in to Regulus and returned to kissing him. Honestly, was having a spine really that important? Regulus already had his heart, why not his spine too?

[freddie-77-ao3]

Snippet

Will Solace, Nico decides, is the sort of person who cries when bugs get squished. Nico is not wrong on this account: when, at one point, a seven year old Will had found Cecil and Lou Ellen pointing a magnifying glass at ants, he had sobbed and demanded they help him treat the insects' burns, carrying five of them to the infirmary in the palms of his hands.

[lil-leon]

Anyone want a snippet from my rottmnt fic..?

Yeaaaah, you're getting the first page of my Google Doc under the cut

Raph turned onto his side, his bed creaking with his weight shifting and the mattress dipping. Sleep. He needed sleep. The Krang invasion took a lot out of him physically and mentally. It felt like every movement was a protest against his body. His injuries were still fresh and he could feel a distant stinging buzz behind his blind eye as his pain medication began to wear off. Yet it wasn’t the pains and throbs that kept him up. No, those were recent, his medication had been on high gear when he first got into bed.

It was his nerves. Those fleshy pink aliens had them shot. Raph rolled onto his back for the umpteenth time, gazing up at the ceiling. Softly, he tapped his fingertips against the patch over his eye. His vision was a bit off now but he’d just have to learn to get used to it. He tried to ignore the phantom feelings, the distant buzz everywhere except his plastron and legs. The buzz reminded him of the Krang flesh that had wormed its way into his own. It’d felt bad enough on his own shell, the idea of Donnie having that dig into a soft one made Raph shudder.

The idea of any of his brothers going through, well, everything that happened just a few days ago made him shudder to be honest. When Casey learned Mikey got Leo back using a portal, he explained damn near everything about Mikey’s future self. The idea of Mikey dying, of watching his little brother chip away in an attempt to save the other made Raph’s heart drop. He knew his little bro. Even if he and Donnie hadn’t been there to help and absorb some of the damage being done, Mikey would’ve kept going. 

Raph’s nails dug into his comforter at the thought.

That nagging in his gut, that familiar tug pulled from deep inside him. It was a feeling he’d been getting for years. It started when Splinter got distant, started giving them less time and attention, and started retreating into the living room. Raph didn’t understand what was going on at the time, but he did know he needed to be there for his brothers. It was stressful for a child as young as he had been. Keeping his brothers healthy, fed, and content when their dad was drifting away from them. He had started to get irrationally nervous any time he’d leave them alone. 

He knew Leo might try to get into some kind of trouble for attention, that Mikey was too little to really know how dangerous some things were, and that Donnie was at a higher risk of harm than any of them. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving them alone for longer than a few minutes. Rational fears grew larger while irrational ones bloomed. The idea of one of his brothers choking while eating would somehow turn into the fear of letting them eat anything without supervision at the time. The tossing and turning and stirring he did now was born from those unrealistic thoughts driving into his skull and keeping him from having a restful night. He knew they were fine, he knew they weren’t going to get hurt from staying in the bathtub on their own for a few minutes, from eating by themselves, from spending the night in their own room. But, nocturnal death is rare, not impossible.  He wished he never learned that fact because here he was getting out of bed at two in the morning just to check that his brothers were still breathing. He could’ve sworn he was getting better at not doing things like this, at giving his brothers space to breathe without being what Mikey called a “Helicopter Brother.” But the Krang invasion was a setback and now he was falling into old habits. How could he not? His brothers almost died. He was the reason his brothers almost died. He didn’t even register he had been walking until he was outside of Mikey’s train car, closed hand hovering over the door and poised to knock.

[dysfunctional-doodle]

Ah yes, the typical “evil capitalist businessman” disguise.

Finally updated Too Many Turtles! Link here :)

In which TOTTMNT Donnie dies, 2003 Mikey gaslights the server into thinking he wears glasses and ROTTMNT Donnie goes mad with power (again).

[jaspermeiao3]

A girl was used to quiet. Quiet rooms, quiet hands, and quiet whispers. Silence was survival, something she learned young—how to tiptoe, how to sneak, how to disappear. But she hadn’t always been quiet. Once, she’d screamed and cried, her voice loud with the desperate hope someone would care. She learned quickly that noise brought pain, and silence was safer.

She wasn’t taught words, not at first. Words, she had learned, were dangerous. Words lied, but bodies didn’t. So instead, she learned to read a shift in weight, a flick of the wrist, the twitch of a mouth hiding a lie. Her education wasn’t one of comfort or curiosity—it was precision and violence, survival etched into muscle memory. A girl lived without true understanding until the day she met The Batman, and her world cracked open.

Suddenly, there was sound—too much sound. Laughter, arguments, the wild thrum of a piano from upstairs. Little and big brothers bickering, teasing, singing. It was overwhelming and impossible and free.

It was hers.

A girl didn’t have the words to explain what she felt when Bruce welcomed her into the manor, but she didn’t need them. He spoke to her not with his mouth but with his hands, slow and deliberate, shaping a language just for her. Words made from careful motions, as patient as they were kind.

And with those words came something even greater: a name. Her name. Cassandra Cain.

[crystalclearwright]

He told me I was born to be a King.

Then he told me that my birthright was to die as a child, cast out.

So what else did he lie about, besides my origins?

Did he lie every time he said he loved me?

[sewliia]

After TMA episode 108

(I wrote this for a friend after she listened to this episode and wanted to know what Elias And Peter were up to after Peter spooked Martin. I usually don't write much or share this stuff so I dunno - enjoy.)

Elias smiled from ear to ear as the fog crept into his office and up his leg. It announced the tall man long before he had even entered the room.

"Ah, Peter," Elias didn't look up. "I was wondering where you were."

"I suppose you think you're very funny. Don't you, Elias?"

There was no sound as the door opened and closed again after the man had entered. The thick fog swallowed up everything, even the sight. Elias found the latter particularly annoying. Most of the time.

But right now Peter was making another scene and Elias was enjoying every second of it.

"Oh, I found it quite amusing." Elias said as he put down his pen and turned his gaze to Peter, who was emerging further from the thick wall of fog with each step.

"I thought you'd like to meet Martin. The boy has some potential, doesn't he?"

Silence.

Maybe a little grumble.

Peter already looked tired. Deep trenches under his pale eyes only emphasised his listlessness.

"Why are you wasting my time?" It growled from Peter's throat, leaving a cloud of mist in its wake.

Elias smile faded a little and he stood up with a sigh. His hand slid over the smooth wood of his desk as he walked around it. Closer to Peter.

"Well, I was hoping we could talk about the Stranger's ritual and the consequences that might follow. But -"

Elias raised his voice teasingly and placed his hand on Peter's upper arm. He moved his thumb gently up and down while his gaze rested on Peter's eyes.

"I'd like to spend some time with you, too."

Peter let out a heavy breath that sounded like utter defeat. His shoulders slumped and with them the fog, as if following his posture. Slowly, the man raised his pale hands and wrapped them around Elias waist. He could feel the cold that radiated from Peter even through his clothes.

The lonely man knew no warmth and perhaps that was why Elias clung to Peter. They didn't need flirtation and empty words, which were usually only said to appease their partner anyway. He didn't even know if they had ever said 'I love you' to each other.

It didn't matter.

He liked it the way it is.

Elias put his free hand on Peter's cheek and smiled.

And Peter leaned forward. Kissing him.

[awardenandacrow]

FANFIC SNIPPET 15

[Lucanis is making dinner in preparation for Taash, Bellara, and Rook to return from the Fangscorcher mission; Emmrich and Harding have two more days on their camping trip. Things seem calm… until they aren’t.]

{this snippet is from Lucanis’s POV. There is also a part two, from Naimeryn’s. The events of these snippets occur chronologically shortly after the events of Snippet 10 (drunk handholding).}

CW/TW: blood, burns, battlefield medicine

——————————————————————————

“You know, after Weisshaupt, I was always a little afraid you were gonna poison my dinners,” Davrin admitted.

Lucanis laughed. “I am a prof—“

He felt Spite, like a surge in his head. He came on so fast and so strong out of dormancy that he had no chance to even attempt to maintain control. Dread overtook his limbs as Spite forced him to bark out,

“ROOK!”

The knife fell from Lucanis’s hand. Could a demon feel fear? It gripped him in a nearly paralyzing grasp, but Davrin leaping to his feet seemed to give him the motivation he needed. Davrin reached the kitchen door first, but they rushed out of it together. Lucanis leapt the short staircase in a single bound, ready to run all the way to Arlathan if necessary.

“Bellara!” Davrin yelled from behind him. Lucanis’s heart leapt to his throat. Why was Bellara here if Rook was not? “Where is she?”

“The Eluvian room!” Bellara yelled back. “I’ve got to find — Neve! It’s Rook! It’s bad. We need you.”

Lucanis couldn’t breathe. *It’s bad.* He forced his legs to run. Past the stupid kissing skeleton statue Rook had insisted on putting in the courtyard. Past an anxiously squawking Assan jumping around Davrin’s thudding boots. Down the stairs. He had to get to her. Neve and Bellara were flying down the stairs on the opposite side, but he got to the library door first, and tore it open. Thinking better of it, he all but shoved Neve ahead of him.

The four of them took the stairs down two at a time. Neve darted through the door first, and suddenly Lucanis couldn’t move.

“BLOOD. SO MUCH BLOOD.” Hissed Spite.

Davrin pushed him firmly into the Eluvian room. Spite was right. The smell was everywhere.

Naimeryn was barely inside the lighthouse, writhing on the bridge in a puddle of it so big it ran off the edge. Taash gripped her hand tightly and was practically yelling to Neve what had happened in their panic. Lucanis barely heard anything they said. Something about the dragon? No. *Antaam.* Lucanis closed the distance and slid to Naimeryn’s side as she screamed when Neve touched her ripped open side.

No. No, no. This could not be happening.

“Lucanis, did you hear me?” Neve snapped.

“I’m sorry, I —“

“Hold her head!”

Obediently, Lucanis cupped the back of Naimeryn’s head in his hands, resting it on his lap. Her free hand flew up to his face. It was wet — covered in her own blood — but he didn’t care. He nuzzled her hand between his cheek and shoulder.

“Mierda, Rook.”

“Don’t be such a worry wart,” she teased, but her voice was weak and her smile delirious.

“Rook,” Neve warned, “I have to get the sliver out. This is going to *hurt*”

“I can take —“ Naimeryn’s joke was cut off as Neve shoved her ice-wrapped hand *into her body* and she screamed the most horrific scream Lucanis had heard since the Ossuary. He clutched her head, Taash squeezing her hand in one of theirs and pressing the other onto her chest as she arched off the floor.

“I’ve got it!” Neve announced, retracting her hand with a thick spear of WOOD in it.

“How did that—“

“Fuckin’ gaatlok barrel!” Taash snapped, their face screwed up like they were forcing down tears. “I didn’t realize she was on the other side of those Antaam assholes! I didn’t see her! I —“

“Taash,” Naimeryn wheezed. “This is NOT your fa-“

“*I* did this to you, Rook!” Taash snapped.

“No!” Naimeryn said with more force than it seemed possible for her to command. “You were trying to protect Bellara. But you can fix this. Can’t you?”

“What do you—“

“She wants you to stop the bleeding,” Neve said warily.

“What? No! I could burn right through you! I don’t know if I can do that!”

“I don’t know if I can do it myself,” Naimeryn mumbled.

“Stay awake,” Lucanis snapped, giving her head a little shake. “If someone is going to do something, DO IT NOW.”

“Taash,” Neve said. “Can you try?”

“I don’t know! I —“

“Move!”

No one had even seen Davrin leave, but he came running down the stairs now, the end of his sword glowing red.

“Naim—“

“Do it,” she hissed, her fingers gripping Lucanis’s collar and Taash’s hand so tight her knuckles shone white.

Her scream echoed through the chamber for what seemed like hours, and in his skull for much longer. Tears soaked her cheeks and ran into his hands. He bent over on impulse, pressing his lips to her forehead, not even sure what he was whispering to her in Antivan, just anything. Anything to make this better.

Naimeryn lay, panting and sweating, but no longer bleeding, on the floor. Her left side and arm were burned from the gaatlock, and her cauterized wounds smoked as shivers passed through her body. The air reeked of burnt flesh.

“My left really is my bad side,” she wheezed out a weak laugh, and then her eyes fluttered shut.

“Naim!” Davrin grabbed her shoulder, and Lucanis couldn’t breathe.

“She’s just passed out,” Neve sighed. “But she’s lost a lot of blood, and those burns are *bad*. We aren’t out of the woods yet.”

——————————————————————————

[PART TWO: Rook wakes in the infirmary three days later]

——————————————————————————

Naimeryn’s head was splitting. She groaned and pressed one hand to her forehead, rubbing her eyes before opening them slowly. The infirmary was dimly lit, but she could see Varric was not on his cot. Good; he needed to stretch that damn leg sometimes. She turned her head slightly in the opposite direction, and couldn’t suppress a small smile. Lucanis sat next to her cot, arms crossed, coffee cup in hand, slightly slumped, asleep.

“Lucanis,” she said softly, reaching for his arm.

“ROOK!” The coffee cup clattered to the floor, glowing purple eyes flying open. Figures. “NOT DEAD.”

She chuckled drily. “Hi, Spite. Not this time.”

He hopped up and leaned over her bed. Spite suddenly reminded her immensely of a puppy. A murderous, unhinged puppy.

“How long have you two been sitting there?”

“NOT LONG. WENT TO TREVISO. KILLED ANTAAM. NOT ALL. MANY.”

Naimeryn groaned. “Does Lucanis know?!”

“HIS IDEA. TAASH TOO. ANGER AND FEAR. GUILT AND GRIEF. HE-“

His head ducked, then shook. Eyes, blinking. Brown again.

“What — Rook? ROOK!” He startled awake, his hands flying to cup her face.

“I’m all right. I heard you’ve been bus—mmph!”

His lips crushed hers beneath them in a kiss that was desperation and relief in equal measure. Startled, but pleased, she heard herself gasp even as her fingers threaded through his beard, cupping his jaw. A fire that did not hurt overtook her, spreading warmth outward from its origin in her chest. Creators, but she loved this man.

The thought rattled her. Was it too soon for that to be the case?

He pulled back, breathless, his expression still worried. She teased his beard gently between her fingers.

“I’m going to have to get injured more often,” she smirked.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled, and kissed her again. Her hand slid to the back of his head, pulling him in. She wanted to be closer… but her side ached, and she broke the kiss first.

“Sorry, I… I can’t breathe.”

“Are you all right?”

She puffed out a painful breath as her discomfort grew. “Hurts,” she wheezed.

An excited hiss came from the doorway, followed by a frazzled, “Manfred! Don’t interrupt!”

“It’s all right, Emmrich,” Lucanis said, straightening up away from her. “Do you have something for Rook?”

“Yes, of course,” the mage was nodding as he stepped into the light behind Manfred, laden with his tray and teaset. “We’ve brought tea made with numbing agents to help with the pain.”

“My hero,” Naimeryn smiled weakly. “Welcome home, I guess?”

“Yes,” the older mage tutted sternly. “In the future, I will have to ask that you *not* try to get yourself killed while I’m away, hm?”

Naimeryn sighed, accepting the cup of tea he offered her. “I feel awful. Taash was so upset, but it was me.”

She tapped her left eye, wincing as she bent her bandaged arm to do so.

“I never saw the gaatlock barrels. I’m a Blighted liability in the field, and they think it’s their fault.”

“Focus on the tea,” Lucanis said gently. “We can worry about the rest later.”