#longer snouts will have an extra circle for where the end is!

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

How do you draw dragons? All of them look absolutely amazing and I'm horribly curious.

- <3

im not sure how to answer this, because i dont really know! i've been drawing dragons for so long that the process is almost Entirely subconscious at this point.

hm... i know that when i was pinning down the Technical aspect of their anatomy, i mostly modeled them off of cats & horses. i still do, in a sense! but really, i draw them like i draw anything else. i break them into simplistic puzzle pieces and just... slap em together

like the dragon Wallies i just posted kinda show my full process - i didn't erase any guidelines! You Can See It All! circle for the head, circle for the chest, bumps for where the limbs go. the neck triangles into the chest. etc. uh. yeah!

[1010ll]

do you have any new recipes that you've learned recently? i remember you wrote something a while ago about carbonara and i tried it out for myself it was really fun!!

i love this 😭 im gonna write way too much idec! something that has changed since that post: my kitchen is worse. i have a horrible combi oven which has resulted in me accidentally eating raw chicken, because it had been in there for more than 2 hours at supposedly 230 °C and i was really hungry and thought it HAD to be done by then. also i have less time and less money lol. it has made me a bit sad, and less motivated to cook nice things but i also love food! which means these tips/recipes are gonna reflect that and might seem a bit dull but probably also relatable for a lot of people.   i’ve definitely made spaghetti carbonara a bit too much because it’s simple and require few ingredients! will still vouch for that one tip about substituting the bacon with roasted veggies and other types of meat.

last week i made risotto for the very first time, i think? which means i might be assuming a bit too much, but i think it’s a great dish that you can almost make with whatever you have in your fridge. i made it with roasted beetroot(needs A LOT of time to soften, lesson learned), carrots and parsley root or parsnip(idk the difference), dried rosemary and thyme, garlic and onion. i had some leftover sushi rice, which is great for risotto apparently(love versatile ingredients), roasted them in some oil and then added white wine and chicken stock and actually added a leftover parmesan rind i had in the fridge to give the ‘stock’ some flavour, a bit of nutmeg and then in the end some shredded gouda lol… it was surprisingly delicious and i didn’t even really care to cook the rice perfectly. it also tasted delicious 3 days later, which was a nice surprise. i bet there are tons of risotto recipes online, but as long as you have rice, some kind of flavoured water, i guess you could kind of add whatever you want of veggies and top with whatever herb you have around.

another type of porridge i consume a lot these days is hot oat porridge, which i’ve eaten since i was little and it was the first ‘dish’ i learnt to make myself and it’s cheap. some people really dislike the consistency and look but i don’t. it’s also very easy to customise. i put in whatever nuts and seeds(which are often cheaper than nuts) i have around: flaxseed, sesame seeds, pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds, chopped almonds and sometimes a dollop of peanut butter. i let them simmer along with the oats. i like adding those elements because it gives it some texture and it keeps me more full throughout the day. it’s very important to me because i hate spending money i don’t have on fast-food when i’m not home and i hate being hungry. dried raisins, cranberries for a bit of sweetness and if i’m treating myself i’ll add some fresh apples cut into small pieces or some homemade berry compote(i use frozen) or brown sugar. if i had more money i’d use maple syrup but i don’t at the moment. i also add a bit of cinnamon and cardamom, dried ginger etc, whatever you feel like. some people also add milk afterwards but i’d rather spend my milk on my coffee.

a small tip: making chili flake / garlic oil. it’s really delicious, you could put it straight on pasta with some parmesan and pepper and it would be a filling meal. either chop the garlic really fine, grate it, microplane it, smash it to pieces. heat some olive oil until it’s quite hot, then remove from heat and add the chili flakes and garlic. if the oil isn’t hot enough you can just put the pan or pot back on the heat but be careful you don’t burn the chili flakes or garlic, as it will make it bitter. the longer it will toast, the less pronounced the raw garlic flavour will be, so when it smells toasted enough for your taste, take it off. i store it in a tiny glass jar and add it in stews, sauces, toasts, pizza, sandwiches etc. the flavour is very strong imo and everything it touches will smell like it. something to drink: i like strong foods and i like sour foods, which is why i like lemon/ginger based drinks. to make it even more winter friendly and easy to make, i like to grate unpeeled ginger(i hate slices of ginger, they do nothing for me and seems like a waste of ginger), lemon zest, lemon juice and mix it or blend it with some water/apple juice and honey and strain it afterwards. if you have a really nice blender you can just add all of it together with some ice. i’m basically making a large amount of ginger shot mixture. then when i feel like it, i can take some of the mixture and either drink it as it is, add more apple juice if i need a refreshing beverage or add hot water and more honey for when im cold. you could also add turmeric, chili, use less sweetener and other sorts of healthy stuff but i honestly do it for the taste so i don’t care about that that much.

something sweet: i posted earlier about cakes and someone mentioned swedish kladdkaka, which is a super delicious, cheap, brownie-like chocolate cake that is easily customized and hard to fuck up which is why i’ve made it since i was very young and is a go-to and i didn’t even know it was a swedish thing. if you like airy, light cakes this is not for your. this is sticky, sweet and almost like confection. you can add nuts, swirls of peanutbutter, tahini, actual pieces of chocolate, replace the white sugar with brown sugar, the butter with oil(you can be fancy and use a bit of olive oil) or use a mixture, brown the butter, you name it. the recipe i use is this: melt 100 g butter and let cool. mix 2 eggs + 3 dl sugar in a bowl until fluffy in one bowl. mix 1.5 dl flour, 4 tbs cocoa, 1 pinch of salt in another. mix the dry with the wet mixture and add the cooled, melted butter. this is the point where you’d add chopped nuts, chocolate etc. pour the batter into a cake tin lined with parchment (i use one that is 16 cm in diameters i think). bake the cake for around 30 mins at 150°C - 175°C degrees. check on the cake using a cake tester or a a knife. if the knife is clean after … stabbing it, it’s done! the cake will change it’s texture after cooling. this is a cheap cake, and if you like cake dough you might want to give it less time in the oven for a more fudgey texture. make it your own! there are no rules. last time i made this, i left it in for too long in my opinion but it was still delicious. also i literally have a shit oven with a round oven rack that goes in circles no matter what due to the microwave function, and the only ‘mixing’ equipment i have is a whisk and a spatula. no need for kitchen aids or  even electrical hand mixers.

something else i’ve been eating a lot for lunch is simple open faced sandwiches, and something that can really elevate those is: making your own mayonnaise(and toasting the bread). it can be challenging, but it’s really worth it imo and i can’t remember the last time i bought it in a store. i have a small plastic bowl, whisk and 1 egg yolk. something i can really recommend is buying pour snouts for bottles. i transfer my oils from their plastic bottles to smaller, old soda bottles because im cheesy like that and it’s really handy especially when making mayo. constantly whisking the egg yolk by hand and then adding the NEUTRAL oil ever so slowly. don’t be fancy and use cold pressed stuff or extra virgin olive oil because it will taste weird. i only ever fail when i try to use immersion blenders for some weird reason but i find it rewarding to do by hand anyways and i think it might be easier to make smaller portions that way. mayo needs acid and you can get it by adding regular vinegar, apple cider vinegar, balsamic vinegar, lemon juice, lime juice, pickle juice, citric acid dissolved in water etc. it’s really easy to customise! when im making banh mi, i add some sesame oil, soy sauce for saltiness and use lime as the acidic element. for more regular use i add a bit of mustard(also helps with the emulsion), for fries, i like adding some fresh garlic. something as simple as mayo, tomatoes, flaky salt and pepper topped with chives is really nice. i also really like using slices of boiled potatoes or boiled eggs(idk if that’s only a thing where i’m from), mayo and the chili garlic oil. it’s also great for making tuna salad. yesterday i made a really simple sandwich with a very simple tuna salad(tuna, mayo, yoghurt, lemon and pepper), arugula, basil, the garlic/chili oil, cream cheese, pickled jalapeños and onions, green peber, cucumber and tomatoes. you could leave out everything but the tuna salad and it would still be a great little meal.

another nice condiment that beats the supermarket stuff by far is homemade ‘pesto’. when i buy parsley from my local grocery store, it’s a gigantic amount that i in no way can consume in a week. first of all when buying fresh herbs i really recommend washing them, wrapping them in a damp towel and keeping them in a closed container. it will prolong their lifetime from lasting a day to a week(change the towel if it seems too wet). i once had some cilantro in my fridge for several weeks and still be fresh. anyways, when i buy that much parsley, i like to remove the tougher parts of the stem(which i use in stews/sauces! chop it up and sautee it along with garlic and onion), add literally just olive oil, water, pepper, garlic, and a bit of acid and then blend away! it keeps for a long time in the fridge and is also delicious beneath tomatoes/potatoes/cheese on open-faced sandwiches. if you want to be fancy you can of course add some type of hard cheese, nuts, seeds, dried tomatoes, whatever.

i know this is the longest text post ever, but as a last reminder, i really recommend watching pasta grannies on youtube. really simple recipes with focus on few, good ingredients that just takes some time and love.

[thelostandforgottenangel]

Come Back To Me (Raph x Rave)

It’s been forever since I’ve actually wrote anything with her in it but here we go! Sorry if you hate. Forgive me this was an OLD fic I started and never finished back like 3 years ago amped it up and fixed a lot before wrapping it up so tell me what you think guys. Love you all!

WARNING: THIS IS LEMON AF

@bloody-dark-shells03​ @fyreball66​ @lonelyheart-clubband​ @blossom-skies​ @betelgeusessonajblog​ @midnightrebel669​ @darksaphire2002​ @nikitaboeve​ @legandarybeauty​ @mistyroselove​ @bayverse-turtle-power​ @waterstar2016​ and all my Raphie girls

Raphael stood under a constant barrage of hot steaming water letting the heat calming his nerves and soothing his aching body; strains and pains that seemed to intensify the longer he stood there brought on by the day only made worse by the hellish patrol that had almost ended tragically.

Tonight had been particularly rough on him and the long, relaxing shower was much needed.

He was so lost in the therapeutic effects of the spraying water, he didn’t hear the door to the shower open; only realized someone was there when a hand grabbed his shoulder.

“Oh! K-Kid, what are ya do-umph!” Raphael didn’t have time to even finish his statement, the second the words began leaving his mouth, Raven placed her lips firmly over his. Thin arms immediately draped over his wet shoulders as she attached to his body. Her full curvy, naked body drenched by the unwavering water cascading over their bodies and Raph had little chance to do anything other than moan at her sudden actions.

The turtle melted into her incredible warmth that was seeping into his skin like the sun he missed so much when they were in the lair… yet not as much as her… Without any prompting, his hands caressed her soft body; the curve of her back and sides, those thick hips and round rear that firmed up extensively over the last few months.

“Raven…?” he questioningly breathed into her mouth. The part of him that was too aware of the constant hovering presence of their brothers, best friends, and Father still in the back of his mind as he reluctantly pulled away.

Raven didn’t respond, just cupped the back of his head and pulled his mouth insistently over hers once again.

Raph didn’t bother complaining this time, just pulling her as close as humanly possible as they lost themselves to each other’s mouths and heat exuding from the sheer closeness. Before long, hands wavered from familiar spots in favor of more personal territory. Raphael eagerly caressed her tender breasts as his other hand remained gripping her firm ass before slipping between the apex of her thighs to tenderly rub her sex.

Raven sighed softly when she finally pulled away to rest her body on his; head on his chest as she allowed him to pleasure her with tender strokes of his rough, calloused hand over her neglected nether regions… and damn, it felt so fucking good…

“Oh, Raphie…” she moaned as he caressed her throbbing clit; the teenager splaying her legs a bit further to give him better access. It was quite a feat in the smooth tiles they stood on, but she could make it work. All too soon, her eyes opened taking in his bruised jaw and black eye his cheek now carrying a deep slash of red landing on a couple nicks and scrapes across his green skin; the burgundy red color leaking from one deep cut had her stomach churning all over again.

Without allowing it to take over, she kissed him once more before her soft pink mouth trailed down kissing each wound and discoloration of his skin as if the simple action would heal his beaten body lowering herself to her knees much to Raphael’s surprise those unwavering orbs showing him what he silently knew. His member was already proudly erect and fully engorged from her actions meaning the woman spent little time stroking his hardened flesh before placing her mouth over the bulbous tip, the warmth of the wet cavern tenderly sucking his hardened flesh made him grunt; her small hands on his hips to keep him in place as she eagerly drew him to sweet oblivion.

“Aw, fuck…” Raph groaned, putting his hands on the rails to the shower stall to keep his balance. It’d been so long since they been intimate and Raphael was certain if she kept this up, he’d be finishing far sooner than anticipated.

Yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off her let alone even think of stopping her.

This beautiful woman kneeling before him with those big vibrant green eyes looking directly at him as she bobbed her head, the feeling of her mouth over his member that would fit without her forcing down was too much to stand. Raph was certain he swallowed his tongue when one of her hands left his hip in favor of playing with his balls gently teasing them before wrapping her fingers over his thick girth; gently assisting her mouth to bring him the best pleasure possible.

Delicate digits wrapped around his thick length pumping his cock in long, firm strokes as her mouth continually suckled him; soft wet tongue lapping lovingly at the underside and circling the tip. His mind went blank when she pulled away; giving the bulbous head a wet sloppy kiss before she began kissing the sides all down the length; a few wet swipes of her tongue along the base before making her way up to suck him again.

“Oh damn, baby…” he growled, a churr ready and willing to leave his throat needing to hold on to something else, one hand left the rail to grasp at her loose wet hair moving her a bit slower making it more then torture to not just burst there “Slower – mmm let me enjoy this” he internally marveling at the length plastered to her skin by the cascading water had grew if only to keep his mind from allowing him to cum right there and then.

Noting the urgency in the way his member was throbbing in her mouth and under her fingers the young woman pulled away from him with a wet pop “Honey-” in seconds, she was standing again; her arms draping over his shoulders when his heavy limbs found her again and Raphael knew all too well where this was heading and damn, was it well overdue

Without much prompting, he lifted her up, both hands firmly placed on her ass and thighs, he hauled her up until her hips were alighted with his abdomen and her legs were able to wrap along his sides.

“Ya sure yer ready fer me kid?” Raph breathlessly asked into her loose hair as she maneuvered her hand between them until she had lined his cock up with her soaked entrance.

“I’ve been ready for month’s sugar…” a breathless growl answered him lustfully, leaning forward to get a taste of his mouth; teeth roughly biting into that pouty lower lip as he slowly lowered her onto his tip groaning as his thick girth entered her painfully slow.

The burn of not having him for so long apparent by how it hurt to stretch around him, but she completely ignored it in lieu of deepening their kiss her tongue teasing his until his mouth was crushing hers

It was almost a full minute before he was up to the hilt inside of her.

He groaned in anticipation as she gasped upon the sensation her head dropping back pulling away from him to gain some sanity before she was resting her face against his throat. All too sudden, she felt the burn of tears scorching the back of her eyes from the sheer pleasure of having him inside of her; yet a part of her knew they were for something else too.

Burying her face further into the hallow part of his throat, she allowed them to fall for the first time since they had gotten back from patrol “R-Raphie…” the turtle was so busy trying desperately not to cum right there and then that he didn’t notice the extra droplets of water showering down his neck with every soft peck of her lips.

“Ya ready?” he nuzzling his snout over her ear, wet hair getting pushed back as his fingers pulled it churring lovingly; she was so tight and warm and wet around him that he swore nothing in this world felt greater closing his eyes treasuring the feeling of her kisses on his neck, he returned her embrace allowing his body to calm letting her adjust before he would even dare to make a further movements.

“Mm-hmm…” she hummed into his skin anchoring herself on his shoulders; inwardly glad for the constant spray of water down her body to distract as she began moving up and down with Raphael happily assisting; using his arms to lift and lower her onto his dick. His body screamed at the frantic movements that were not easy on his aching muscles in any way ripping a low grunt from his lungs, but fuck, it felt way too good to even think about slowing yet alone stopping. Raph trudged on, using the momentum in his hips to pushing in deeper over and over in a constant steady rhythm, hips slapping her ass in smooth motions making the intense pleasure accompanying it both alarming and fantastic all at once.

“Oh, Rave…” he groaned as she returned his affection kissing him yet again even more passionate then before as the droplets of water streaming down between their caressing mouths; sadly it was diluting the taste of her mate she missed so much before he placed his hand on her neck pulling her in deeper needing her kiss, desperately craving more of her love having been completely starved for his lady since day one

“Raphie…” she teased, breathing the nickname into his mouth and her heart soared at his throaty and deep chuckle biting his lip as she started bouncing her hips more. A sudden hard thrust had the tip of his large shaft brushing over her g-spot, her walls quickly clenching around him as the familiar burn of an upcoming orgasm filled her belly but try as she might to fight it, it was upon her before she could react “That’s it – oh baby yes just like that~” the teen whimpered into the side of his head, biting down on his neck to calm the need to scream out the pleasure he was giving her.

Without realizing what happened, she suddenly found her back pressed upon the cool, hard wet surface of the shower wall, her ass partly stuck upon the showers hand rail, both scrambling to gain stability in the new position as he didn’t even slow in hammering into her that when he grabbed the bar and pulled forward shoved all of him into her in one move, the clank of the bottles falling to the floor off the metal rack didn’t even registering in her mind as he began fucking her in frantic needy thrust that had her suddenly screaming out in complete ecstasy.

Raphael plunged his tongue into her open mouth to quell her voice making her return the kiss willingly as he pounded into her body; the wet squelch of their hips meeting over and over in a constant rhythm as he fucked her, his deep voice whispering the sweetest praises with every kiss that he could feel just how close he had her, so completely overcome with the unbridled emotions building inside her she buried her face into his throat; arms trembling like a leaf as she pulled him as close as physically possible.

He had her where he wanted growling each time she took him until he was so close to losing his mind he was sure he’d black out

He continued to piston in and out of her body in fluid strokes; this had to be the most intense feeling she’d ever experienced, and it shook the woman to her core at just how much she missed having him this way; not just sexually, but intimately.  Missed his warmth as he held her, how safe she felt with him, the intoxicating smell and burning feel of his skin and body on hers was pure euphoria she craved, just reveling in his closeness she could do little besides hold him even tighter as his thrusts became more frantic and frenzied; every breath he took uneven and husky in her ear.

Raven could tell he was close and as much as she wanted this to continue, she wanted to make him feel as good as she did right then in that moment her body constricting around him hearing her soft longing whisper in his ear as her short fingernails dug into his shoulders the other hand held onto his cracked carapace for dear life as he slammed into her over and over again full on churring into the skin of her neck at those words.

Thrusts now rough and uneven, he fucked her harder and faster his hands anchoring her hips to stay still as he completely lost himself in her body grumbling several nonsensical yet most likely loving sentences into her ear as he finally allowed himself to let go “B-Baby…” in an instant her body tightened around him as he drew near to completion yet it didn’t slow his thrusts down in the least as he pillaged the smaller body quick and rough, pulling her face up he found her sad eyes getting lost in the beautiful gems he longed to see tomorrow morning moving inside of her growling roughly before she was once more pulling him in close her cries getting louder feeling his teeth marking the soft skin he had latched onto until his stamina ran out just as he came hard.

Her body tensed as both his body and legs trembling gasping when he pushed inside of her up to the hilt moaning his name before his seed erupted from his cock and emptied deep into her womb and damn, it felt as if he came forever

The teen bit her lip as he burrowed his cock into place his head nuzzling under her chin just realizing he had taken the step neither had ever discussed having just filled her with his seed instead of pulling free like every time before tying them together in a commitment they weren’t sure they were ready for in the past but this time it felt right her pleased sounds telling him his girl wanted that connection.

The sensation of his plastron rubbing on her clit not to mention the molten hot liquid of his cum filling the sensitive passage was a lot more than she expecting but it felt so good. Before she realized it, another orgasm was upon her; she bit her lower lip as the burning sensation exploded over every fiber and nerve of her being. She was still shaking as she came down from her high, Raphael’s deep breaths warm on her bruised collarbone as she felt more secure in her body.

Fingers moving of their own accord, she traced the many injuries he’d acquired these past few weeks and months and all too soon, fresh tears began leaking in silent streams down her face as she found the newest injuries.

Raphael silently pulled away from her; staying quiet as his hands moved over her body going to enjoy all of this just in case they never got another moment like this, it was only noticeable now that the water down her face was not from the shower streams.

“Raven?” he whispered, a trembling hand lifting to wipe at her face looking at those teary emerald eyes that met his “…are ya okay kid?”

Raven wanted to say it then - vocalize her fears of losing him, the gut wrenching panic she had felt only hours prior seeing him go over the edge of the roof when he couldn’t stop himself in time, the way her heart shattered upon seeing him beaten and bloodied, of losing this battle with the Foot.

The fear she carried worried about her brothers losing their lives. It all just hurt like hell and as much as she wanted to tell him everything, she just couldn’t.

“I just love you so much…” she whispered instead; her petite hand moving to cup his face; one thumb lovingly caressing the side of his mouth nuzzling his cheek just wanting him to hold her.

Raphael didn’t speak for a long time; golden eyes looking at her carefully “I love ya too, Raven she pulled him to her for another mind-numbing kiss that lasted what he hoped was an eternity.

Once air became necessary, Raphael pulled away; resting his forehead on hers. Staring into those perfect green pools and hating how his stomach churned at the well known silence of her fears and how grounded they were. How all of this could really end… but seeing the slight hope reigning in them had a fire growing in his belly “I promise. I won’t put ya through that again”

“Good cause if you ever die on me Raph – I will follow you to the gates of hell and drag you back here just so I can kick your ass for trying to leave me” he breathed out a small chuckled caressing her cheeks as she gave him a sad smirk before pushing his lips over hers once again

He welcomed it happily just going to stay here for as long as possible

[im-fairly-whitty]

Free Wing: An Illustrated Dragon Western

A young Victorian Englishman decides to chase after his dream of being a dragon-riding cowboy in the American Wild West. Set in a world where everything is the same as ours, but instead of horses there are dragons.

[Read Chapter 1]

Chapter 2 - Arrival

“Mister?”

Louis made a muffled grunt as he opened his eyes. A small boy standing in front of him slowly came into focus.

“We’re real close to Cheyenne mister, you said to wake you up?” the boy said. 

Behind the boy the passing Wyoming mountains and foothills swaying slightly as they seemed to slide past them.

“Ah. Yes, of course, thank you,” Louis said, clearing his throat and rubbing his eyes as he sat up, having been leaned against Arthur’s flank as they both napped.

Louis dug a coin out of his pocket and gave it to the boy, who grinned. The boy scurried off across the roof of the strider carriage and down the ladder attached to the side, presumably descending to one of the two lower levels.

Louis stood and stretched, breathing in the hot summer morning air around him. Luckily the thrillingly swift leviathan voyage last week and the last six days of strider travel meant he didn’t have to struggle for balance atop the carriage roof as it swayed back and forth with each of the massive beast’s steps.

Arthur made a sleepy clicking noise as he shook his head, getting up and stretching long. The dragon’s tongue curled as he yawned before his jaws snapped shut.

“Good morning to you too.” Louis said, rubbing the small scales under Arthur’s chin as they surveyed the slowly moving landscape around them.

Ahead of them was the long neck and head of the strider, the massive drake the size of a building whose slow plodding steps ate up ground with deceptively fast speed. They’d been lucky to catch an over-land shipping caravan of them setting out from the east coast when they’d landed in New York, continuing their journey west.

The driver had said this shipping company’s striders had come straight from Africa. Louis had heard of the companies working hard to carve trails for strider caravans across the entire North American continent in recent years, but seeing the massive trails and beasts first hand was awe-inspiring.

Big enough to ward off most predators or even bandits, Louis could see why striders’ docile dependability that make them ideal for traders looking to transport tons of goods at a time with as little danger as possible during the summer months.

Or in Louis’ case, passengers.

And now finally, in the distance, Louis could just make out a smudge on the horizon.

Cheyenne, Wyoming. A town that he’d been assured by East coast residents was regularly overrun by cowboys.

Arthur nudged his snout under Louis’ arm, nearly making him fall over.

“No Art, I’m not nervous.” Louis said, pushing Arthur’s head back, “I just...I just can’t believe we’re finally here I guess.”

Arthur shook himself in response, making his loose saddle tack jingle as he stretched his wings out full, giving them an experimental sweep. With all the travel they hadn’t had the chance to do too much flying the last couple weeks, Louis couldn’t blame him for being anxious. At the rate the strider was going it might be another hour before they reached town are all disembarked and Louis was already feeling as itchy to get moving as Arthur.

Louis rubbed his chin, glancing around the carriage roof. Well...they’d already paid their ticket fare, and they didn’t actually have any luggage that needed unloading...

“What say you and I get a head start?” Louis said, smiling as he adjusted Arthur’s bridle and started pulling the buckles tight on his loose saddle.

Arthur flapped his wings again in excited response, nearly knocking Louis over as he stuffed a few things back into the saddlebags and strapped them shut tight.  

“Let’s get on with it then.” Louis said, climbing into the saddle and strapping his legs in, checking his top hat’s chin strap. “We could use a flight anyway. Hup!”

Arthur sprang off the carriage roof, gleefully flapping his wings as they soared into the air. Louis let him spiral and swoop for a moment before pulling the reigns to the side, sending them gliding down to the strider’s head where they hovered for a moment, wings beating the air.

“Hullo!” Louis called to the driver, who was seated behind the strider’s head. “We’re going on ahead, don’t look for us at unloading!”

The driver waved his acknowledgment and Louis nudged Arthur on ahead. The dragon happily complied, slicing through the air. Louis smiled and leaned down to streamline them. The sagebrushy land under them zipped by as they sped across the sky, Cheyenne growing quickly as they sped toward it.

As they got closer to the town Louis could see other dragons in the air. Some circling down to land on roof perches, some taking off with sweeping clouds of dust, others tethered in small flocks on the ground. They were huge; easily four times the size of Arthur, with fins on the sides of their heads and sharp claws on the tips of their wings. Spanish Razorwings.

As they got closer Louis couldn’t spot any of the familiar yellow no-landing striping he was used to seeing all over London’s rooftops. Not a clue to be seen about traffic regulations. The only clue was that all the Razorwings seemed to be landed and hitched in paddocks around the edge of town, not a dragon scale to be seen on the streets, only drake carriages pulling cargo being unloaded from the first strider that had already arrived from their caravan.

Which seemed about right, dragons that size would be dangerous on the streets, big enough to collapse the wooden buildings and storefronts that looked anything but sturdy compared to the stone buildings back home. Not to mention that there was not a chance that it was legal to ride Razorwings open bridle.

But Arthur was small enough that they’d always been allowed just about everywhere back home...even indoors some places...they couldn’t get in too much trouble for guessing could they?

“Well that platform seems good as any.” Louis called to Arthur, angling him down toward a wooden platform in the middle of town.

Arthur glided carefully down above the crowd, delicately landing on the platform with as little flapping as possible due to the surrounding crowds. Louis swung down out of the saddle as the sound and smells of the town swept over them. It smelled nothing like London, that was for sure.

“Ho there! You don’t look like the post.”

Louis turned to see a gruff man waving a wide-brimmed hat at them as he approached.

“This here platform’s for Wing Express riders only,” the man called crossly. “If you don’t got mail in those saddlebags of yours then clear off before I call the sheriff.”

“I’m terribly sor-sorry,” Louis stuttered, grabbing Arthur’s reigns and pulling off his hat as the man—he must be the postmaster—approached them. “I couldn’t tell where to land, could you direct us to some place more suitable?”

“A Brit, eh?” the postmaster said, his angry expression shifting to something a bit more patronizing if Louis wasn’t mistaken. “How far off course did you get blown to end up all the way out here?”

“Please, I'm looking for work as a cowboy, is there some kind of notice board I can apply to here in town?” Louis asked, trying to keep himself composed at the man’s rudeness.

The postmaster scoffed, adjusting his glasses, “I reckon you’ve gone and landed yourself in the wrong state for that. Cattle runs end in Cheyenne, everyone here’s busy frittering away their paychecks before flying back down to Texas for their next job. If you’re looking for a saloon or cheap women you’re in the right place, but the cattle barons are all down south.”

Louis’ grip on the reigns tightened painfully as panic shot through him. The wrong state? But the men back east he’d asked had told him...maybe he’d asked all the wrong questions...? He was missing how easy things had been when it was his secretary arranged his traveling.

“I do need you to get off the Wings Express platform, we’re expecting a mail delivery and they’ll be needing the landing space.” The postmaster said, pointing down the wooden steps. “You should also know there’s no wings or guns allowed in town, if the sheriff catches you you’ll be in for a nasty fine. We’ve got a hard enough time keeping tipsy cowboys off the streets with their blasted Razorwings, we don’t need any foreigners flying around giving them ideas.”

“Isn’t there anyone I can ta-ta-talk to?” Louis said, swallowing hard to keep his panic and stupid stutter under control. “I’ve come a very long way, there must be someone you can think of who’s looking for help.”

The postmaster sighed, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes, “There is one new advertisement. Henry Washington came in an hour ago looking for an extra man on a short cattle run down to Denver. Breeding stock that needs delivering I guess.”

“Where can I find Mr. Washington?” Louis asked eagerly.

“He said he’d be down by the General store until noon,” the postmaster said. “Black man wearing a purple vest, ask around and you’ll find him. Now get off my platform.”

Louis quickly nodded in thanks before scrambling up into Arthur’s saddle again, sweeping up off the platform with a powerful push of Arthur’s wings.

It took much longer than Louis would have liked to find someplace on the edge of town to leave Arthur—a safe distance away from a trio of tethered Razorwings eyeing the much smaller dragon suspiciously—hike back into town on foot, manage to get directions from busy or drunk passers-by for directions to the general store, and finally be directed out back to a crate unloading area.

By the time he spotted an African-American man in a suitably cowboyish outfit unloading a crate, Louis thoroughly regretted not having left his too-warm coat back with Arthur.

“E-excuse me, but are you Henry Washington?” Louis asked as he approached, half expecting the cowboy on the other side of the crate not to hear him.

The man looked up with a wary smile, glancing over Louis’s clothes for a moment before dusting off his hands. “Maybe. Who’s asking?”

“I saw Mr. Washington’s advertisement for another rider on his next cattle run?” Louis said, carefully speaking just slowly enough to keep his stutter at bay while he gripped the edge of his hat, “My name is Louis Ainsley, I’ve come to apply to the position.” he swallowed. “If that’s alright.” he added.

The man squinted at Louis, as if convinced he’d misheard him.

“You?” he asked, glancing again at his clothes. Maybe Louis should have purchased new ones after all.

“Yes.” Louis said, squaring his shoulders, “I’m an excellent flier and I work hard and I’ve come all the way from England. I’d very much appreciate the opportunity to join you and your team for your next expedition, assuming of course that you are Mr. Washington.”

The man let out a guffaw that made Louis jump, feeling a slight flush of embarrassment as the man continued to laugh.

“Ammon, come over here.” the man called, waving over a young man, probably Irish by blood judging by the flaming orange hair, “This gentleman’s come all the way from England to join our expedition.”

Ammon looked at Louis with a skeptical smile, “Not in those soft shoes he ain’t.” he said, cocking his hat back as he looked at Louis’ feet. He looked back up and Louis realized Ammon looked even younger than he was, he’d guess as young as seventeen.

“What’s got you over on this side of the pond wanting to run around in the dirt with us for?” probably-Mr. Washington asked, scratching his neck, “Don’t you got high tea with the queen or something?”

“I can pay well, I promise.” Louis said, he had to convince them before they laughed themselves out of town without him, “I can give you eighty pounds up front and eighty more after the cattle run’s over.”

All laughter and smiles stopped abruptly and the two stared at him long enough to make Louis want to crawl into his hat. Had he accidentally offended them somehow?

“You serious mister?” Ammon asked, looking concerned, “You’re supposed to get paid from these things, not the other way arou-”

“I think we could make room on the crew with arraignments like that.” said the still identity unconfirmed man, rubbing his chin.

“Oh lay off, Henry,” Ammon said, shoving the identity confirmed man’s shoulder, “We can’t bring him just because it’ll settle your gambling debts, look at him. If snakes or sunburn don’t get him first Saul’s gonna eat him alive. We don’t even know if he’s got a set of wings.”

“I do!” Louis said quickly, eagerly grasping at this slightest shift in possibility, “He’s a twenty year old English Fieldracer, fastest dragon in England, we’ve flown together our whole lives.”

“A Fieldracer?” Ammon asked, giving a low whistle, “You really do got money then don’t you?”

“I’d say we’ve got our new recruit.” Henry said happily, reaching out to shake hands.

“Saul won’t like it.” Ammon said, pushing Henry’s hand down before Louis could shake it.

“Saul don’t like anything.” Henry rolled his eyes, but he folded his arms, “You let me worry about it alright? If we take mister Ainsley with us he gets to have the cowboy experience of his dreams, and the three of us get paid two year’s worth of wages to split. All we gotta do is keep him alive, it’s a win all around as far as I can reckon. We’d be fools to pass it up.”

“What makes you so sure you won’t die before we finish?” Ammon said, looking back to Louis, “I mean no offense mister, but I’d feel real bad leaving you and your fancy wings buried under sagebrush someplace because you didn’t know what you were in for. Cattle runs are long dirty business, there ain’t gonna be no little sandwiches or carriages or butlers out there on the plains, and if you wanna turn back we can’t leave to herd behind to bring you.”

“I promise I know what I’m getting into,” Louis said earnestly, “I know I don’t look like it, but coming out to be a cowboy has been my dream since I was a boy. I’ve read everything I can about the west, and taught myself how to handle a lasso, and when I fly Arthur through London I imagine we’re threading through slot canyons and over prairies.

“I’m here because I haven't done anything else in my life that I’m proud of and if I have to go back to the horrid bank my father left me I really think I’m going to die. I need to be out here Mr. Washington, I don’t care what chores you give me, I promise you’ll never hear a word of complaint from me, I really desperately would like to join you and finally see what it’s like out on the plains and this is the only way I know how to do it.”

Louis didn’t know what it was exactly about Henry’s expression that changed during his speech, but whatever it was it made the man look less amused, almost sad looking. More earnest.

“Look here son,” Henry said, putting a hand on Louis’s shoulder, “plenty of us are out here running from some thing or another, I can’t fault you for that. But is this really something you reckon you can handle or is it just the first dangerous thing that came to mind when you settled on running off? As much as I’d like your money, truth is I don’t want to bury you any more than Ammon does.”

“I promise I can do it.” Louis said firmly, “And even if I do decide to turn back early, which I won’t, I’ll still make sure you get your money. I can’t leave until I’ve at least tried.”

Henry sighed, looking at Ammon, who soberly shrugged back.

“Saul won’t like it.” Henry said.

“You said you’d take care of Saul, remember?” Ammon said with a smirk.

“Alright, alright.” Henry said, good naturedly shoving Ammon’s hat down over his eyes, “Go unpack your saddle already before we move out, I’ll take care of the kid.”

He waved Louis over to follow him to where Ammon was hauling a wooden crate away from a stack that had “H. Washington” stamped on the side of them.

“Here, first cowboy job for you is to help me get this crate open.” Henry said, tossing Louis a crowbar.

Louis barely managed to catch the length of metal, dropping his hat in excitement as he grinned like an idiot.

“You mean it? You’ll let me come?” Louis asked, almost wondering if he’d hallucinated the last fifteen minutes, having imagined this moment so many ways over and over again for years.

“Don’t look so surprised about it, kid,” Henry said, wedging his crowbar under the crate lid and jerking the corner up, “Have a bit of confidence.”

“I, uh, I’ll try.” Louis said, doing his best not to look like a fool as he struggled to replicate Henry’s quick work. “I haven't done very much physical labor before,”—any physical labor actually if you didn’t count playing cricket, which he very much doubted they did—“but I promise I’ll learn quickly.”

“That’s alright son, we’ve all got our faults.” Henry said cheerfully, leveraging the rest of the crate lid off, “Saul’s as friendly as a horned toad, I’ve got my gambling, and Ammon’s a Mormon.”

“You’re just sour you’ve never won a penny off me because of it.” Ammon called back with a grin from where he was wrestling a new dragon saddle out of his crate and hefting it onto a waiting drake cart.

“He don’t gamble and he don’t swear and you’ll never be able to borrow a drop of whisky off him.” Henry said with a resigned sigh, pushing his hat back a bit as he started loading brown paper-wrapped packages out of their crate and onto the wagon as well. “Makes him about useless on a cattle drive if he weren’t so handy with the actual cowboying parts. Come on, this is the last of it, let’s head back to our flock, Saul’s waiting for us.”

“Who’s Saul?” Louis asked, quickly climbing up onto the cart with the other two as Henry finished loading.

“Who’s the gringo?”

Louis swallowed as a large man climbed into the driver’s seat ahead of them, picking up the drake’s reigns and shooting a dark look back at them, “And what’s he doing in our supply wagon?”

“Ah! Saul, I thought you were going to meet us back at the flock tether?” Henry said, slapping the Mexican man on the shoulder as the wagon started to move. Louis couldn’t help noticing the raking scars across the man’s face and arm.

“Had to buy more lead,” Saul said shortly, nodding to the empty holster on his hip, “Now, who’s this and what’s he doing on our wagon?”

“His name’s Louis Ani-something.” Ammon said cheerfully, climbing onto the driver’s bench beside Saul, “Lou here’s going to pay us a hundred and sixty pounds to come on the Denver shieldhorn run with us! I dunno how many dollars that is but it sounds like a bunch.”  

“No he’s not.” Saul said flatly, “Get him off my wagon.”

“Come on Saul,” Henry said with a sigh, “He’s paying good and the run will only be a week. I’ll make sure he stays out of trouble.”

“We’re not bringing a tourist with us,” Saul said, shaking his head. “He’ll get himself killed, or else he’s a rustler. Look at him.”

“If he is he’s the softest rustler I ever seen.” Ammon smirked. “What’re you so scared of? Let him come, my ma and pa could use the money and he’ll be good for laughs anyhow. Lou says he doesn’t even care if he dies, it’ll be alright having him along.”

“I s-sa-said I won’t be a bother to any of you and that I w-won’t trouble any of you for protection, I’ll take care of myself.” Louis quickly clarified. “I just want to come along and I’ll help however you want me to.”

Saul looked at him for a long moment, his icy gaze making Louis shiver.

“I say we bring him.” Henry said, “You don’t gotta look at him if you really hate it that much Saul, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“I think it’s a bad idea.” Saul said.

“I’m the one who invited you on this run, and now I’m inviting Lou,” Henry said sternly. “I’m the one who found the guy wanting us to move his breeding stock so it’s my run. Besides, pay like that’s enough to finally get my sister and her kids away from South Carolina and over to Kansas, so this conversation’s over.”

Soul growled a little bit at that, but looked ahead silently instead of pushing the issue.

“I’m sorry if this is inconveniencing,” Louis said timidly.

“Don’t worry about it too much.” Ammon said with a smile. “If Saul hasn’t shot you yet it means he likes you well enough.”

“Oh...good.” Louis said weakly.

“Does he at least have his own wings?” Saul grunted as he reigned the cart over toward the three Razorwings Louis had left Arthur near. The middle and biggest Razorwing—a large green one with yellow face and legs—eyed them sharply, no doubt the flock leader.

“Yes! I do, he’s right there actually, the Fieldracer there.” Louis said, jumping off the cart with the others as they pulled to a stop by the dragons. “Are these your Razorwings? What a coincidence!”

“Wooeee, look at that little guy!” Ammon said, pushing his hat back with a grin as he looked at Arthur, who folded his wings tightly against his side at the stares of the three strangers. “Don’t he get dirty real fast? And he’s so tiny, I bet he’d lose a fight with a shieldhorn no contest.”

“Well it hasn’t been an issue up until this point, our roostmasters have always kept Arthur sparkling.” Louis said. Arthur pushed his head nervously against Louis’ chest as he got closer, still eyeing the huge Razorwings. Louis wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck comfortingly, “I suppose we’ll have to get used to quite a bit more dirt now though.”

“I’ll say,” Ammon said with a laugh, walking over to the smallest of the Razorwings, who was still more than double the size of Arthur. This one was a darker green with red coloring.

“This is Rusty.” Ammon said, grabbing Rusty’s head spikes as the dragon nudged him. Louis’ breath caught in concern as the dragon lifted Ammon an easy ten feet in the air, playfully shaking his head back and forth as the boy hung onto Rusty’s snout. “He was my brother’s,” Ammon called, dropping back to the ground as Rusty lowered his head, much to Louis’ relief. “Still pretty young and he’ll give you trouble if you let him.”

There was a rattling hiss that made the ground vibrate and Arthur push his head closer to Louis. Louis looked up at the yellow patterned Razorwing in the middle as it raised its wings threateningly as Rusty’s antics, making the younger dragon crouch low to the ground in submission.

“That’s Cassidy,” Henry said, rolling his eyes as he carried an armload of packages over to the last dragon, a blue-green Razorwing with orange coloring who looked downright bored at Rusty and Cassidy’s altercation, “She’s even moodier than Saul and twice as pushy, but she’s the flock leader and Saul rides her open mouth—he only bridles her closed when we come into towns—so make sure to keep your pint-sized Fieldrunner out of biting range of her. And this is Major, he won’t give you any trouble at all.”

“O-open mouth?” Louis asked quietly, swallowing at the sudden hoarseness in his voice as he watched Cassidy shove against Rusty. Would Arthur be able to take that kind of roughness? Different breeds didn’t always mix safely. What if Ammon had already been in the saddle and gotten his leg crushed just now? “But she’s enormous, I didn’t think that was legal?”

“Don’t worry, she behaves when there’s riders.” Henry chuckled, starting to load Major’s saddlebags. “But she and Saul are good at what they do and they don’t allow nonsense from no one, so it’s probably just best to give them space, got it?”

Louis nodded mutely, watching Saul walk up to Cassidy with a sharp whistle and some barked words in Spanish. Cassidy huffed a last sharp breath at Rusty, then snapped her wings shut, lowering her head to Saul who continued to talk in softer Spanish as he scratched her chin.

“They seem close at least.” Louis observed quietly as he helped Henry pull things off the wagon.

“They should be, he raised her.” Henry said. “He’d be a fool to ride her open mouth if they weren't so close, that’s the only reason I ride with them. As it is, they’re the best in the cow punching business when they aren’t off hunting outlaws.”

“What do you mean by-”

“Say, I don’t suppose you’ve got any supplies of your own in those saddlebags?” Henry asked, glancing at Arthur.

“Well no, I suppose-”

“Alright, you and me, the general store. We’ll take the wagon back to return it.” Henry said with a sigh, strapping one of Major’s bags shut. “Ammon’s right when he says those shoes won’t last you three days and you’ll have to carry your own rations too. And you stay close to me, alright? We’re picking up the Shieldhorn breeding stock in an hour and you’re going to have to keep up, got it?”

“Yes sir.” Louis said, standing up straight. “And thank you again for letting me come along. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet, son.” Henry said, climbing up onto the drake wagon. “Wait to see whether or not you and your dragon come out on the other side of this week in one piece.”

Louis didn’t quite know what to say in response to that and so he said nothing, instead pulling on his best cowboy face as he gave Arthur a last pat and climbed back into the wagon.

He was going to survive the week, and it was going to be great.

He was at least sixty five percent sure of it.

 -----------

If you haven’t already be sure to check the [#free wing] tag on my blog to see what other art and worldbuilding that I’ve made for the Free Wing world. Free Wing content takes some time to create since I use it to push my art skills, but I love sharing it with all y’all!

Asks about the world and other details as always are accepted, I love hearing your thoughts and questions, especially since they have a way of helping the story grow! Up next I’m putting together some breed profiles on the megafauna we’ve seen so far; milewings, leviathans, and striders. Also something for the South American Perchers since a very patient anon asked about them ages ago. See you then!

- Wit

[flamebearrel]

“What Just Happened?”

Fandom: Super Smash Bros

Synopsis: There is no better grand finale to a just-as-grand celebration than the sudden murder of two of the universe's greatest fighters. On live camera. Right after a reunion. If this is the general consensus, Master Hand's opinion is definitely an outlier. (An alternate universe where those killed in Smash Bros. Ultimate's character trailers are unable to be brought back to life and leave the roster permanently.)

Word Count: 1275

Original Post Date: December 1, 2018

Characters: Master Hand, Mario, Mega Man, Samus, Ridley (Minor Luigi, Little Mac, Peach, Lucas, Palutena, Ness, basically the whole Smash Ensemble)

Ships: None

Trigger Warnings: Death, Blood, Panic Attack, detailed description of Injury

Other Notes: The fighters are all friendly outside of battle and this includes the Hands; and as stated in the synopsis this is a Permadeath AU based off the character reveal trailers

Ao3 Link

~~~

What just happened?

It was a blur, confusing, as the fighters watching the projector screen suddenly gasped in unison, and immediately went into a panic.

Master Hand was in shock. He floated silently, still holding the clipboard with all of his announcements in a neat little line on it. He could feel himself shaking, just a bit. The view of the man through the magical lens dipped a moment and he had no choice but to will his core to steady it again.

Mario’s crumpled body was lying in the center of the screen.

Blood trickled from the man’s temples where the skin and muscle had been punctured. It came out like sludge against his ruffled hair, which was a futile attempt of hiding the deep claw wounds behind it. His body rested in a weird angle, like someone getting ready to spin in a circle, full of laughter, except he wasn’t laughing. It was clear from his deformed, soulless eyes that the plumber was dead.

What just happened?

Only feet away, in the corner of the screen, lay Mega Man. A hole was punched straight through him. Wires, frayed and sparking, had spilled onto the floor like guts. Upon closer inspection you could see a glint of gold and white and red from the tattered IC chip that lay broken in two. As Master Hand zoomed in, the LED accents in the robot’s eyes flickered out, leaving nothing else to break the dust that swirled around where they had fallen.

The screaming grew and grew. “Oh Naga. He’s dead,” came a voice. There was a thump, and everyone turned to see Luigi unconscious on the carpet, in a suspiciously similar position as his brother. Little Mac, not wanting to see blood of Mario’s caliber, picked up the green plumber and rushed to the health wing. He came back with a pale face and a reminder that they were now short of a doctor. Peach shrieked. Lucas sobbed. Palutena stood with her hands to her mouth, frozen. Panic. Panic. Panic.

What just happened?

~

Master Hand remembered checking his to-do list, issued personally from Sakurai, then called for volunteers to retrieve the next newcomer. Mario, as usual, had wanted to help, and Mega Man and Samus had joined soon after. He remembered hesitation in the blond bounty hunter’s eyes as he let them know who it was. Ridley. The hesitation had stirred there for no longer than a moment before it was replaced with fierce determination. They nodded. And they left to the Space Pirate’s lair.  

He remembered calling everyone to the room where announcements always made their mark. Over sixty heads staring up at him, and then the smiles at the news of everyone’s reunion, excited princesses as Daisy burst through the doors. There had been an almost unanimous wave of approval over the crowd, and at the end the projector light had dimmed and their eyes all widened and he signaled his far away volunteers and went live.

The sound of the three stepping across the metal floor had sent a hush over the fighters. Through the lens, Mega Man had raised his robotic hand and it morphed into a gun. The tips of Mario’s fingers fizzled with unseen flame. Samus clutched her arm cannon.

He remembered sudden movement, a shadow, perhaps, as it flickered across the walls. It had swooped and picked up Mega Man. He remembered hearing the “bew, bew, bew” of the alert that signaled fatal amounts of damage as he whisked the camera around. He had, on live film, recorded a violet tail stab through the robot’s chest and drop him over the edge.

Master Hand remembered a red cap flying over the lens. He remembered faintly hearing the crack of a skull.

The cap had been picked up just as Mario’s corpse followed the Blue Bomber’s. Ridley had twirled it on his finger. He remembered, the hand had turned the camera to Samus, suddenly aware of the Space Pirate. Cannon raised and aimed for the purple snout in front of her, the bounty hunter got ready to fire. He remembered seeing her shoot and Ridley screeching and swooping towards her and the lens getting battered against the dust.

He remembered remembering, reminding himself that the plumber and the robot were rotting away at the bottom of the pit and sending the camera down said pit almost immediately. Down, down it had gone, hundreds of feet into the deep abyss. He remembered seeing the corpses come into view and thinking for a moment that they were just lying there, dazed, half-asleep. He remembered finding the truth was just the opposite. He remembered the gasps and the screams and the panic.

That just happened.

~

“What are you doing? Don’t just- don’t just stand there! Do something!”

The shivering was suppressed for a moment. “W-what?”

Ness pointed to the screen, biting hard on his lip before saying, “You can’t just leave them there, right? Teleport them here, or, I don’t know! Can’t you do that?”

No. No he couldn’t. If there was one thing Master Hand couldn’t do, that was teleport. Not himself, which would have let him bring them back, and not anything else, not anything like a 1-UP or extra Life to shoot their way and offer immediate healing. What power was there in the hand if none of it could be used when it mattered?

The two heroes had ran out of time. There were only a few moments before that little window when Lives could take effect disappeared and they were gone forever. As the fighters screamed, the hand could do nothing but watch in dismay. Mario and Mega Man seemed to shimmer for a moment. Then their colors dulled. So did the sound. And then there was nothing but the cool atmosphere sitting and absorbing the silence.

Master Hand did whatever was the hand equivalent of swallowing before the camera moved again and flew back up. There was still one hero out there. Someone could still be saved. As fast as it could go, the camera whisked its way up to Samus.

Ridley stood triumphantly over a pile of broken armor.

Resisting the urge to start shivering again, Master Hand took a deep breath.

And Samus, in her Zero Suit, leaped out of the silent nothing and fired at Ridley.

Bang. Bang. Bang. The Space Pirate dodged the gunshots, the bounty hunter dodged his claws. His tail jabbed forward and she ducked down, sliding on her knees. With a spin, she kicked at his legs to knock him down. He grabbed her shoulder, wrenched it towards him as he hit the ground.

Samus pressed down on the trigger. A shot blazed towards the purple creature and grazed his arm. Screeching, he went to headbutt her. She turned.

For a moment, she stared straight into the lens.

Samus seemed to nod at it before his head connected with her back. She shot at the camera. It twitched and glitched, and then the screen went black.

There was quiet.

Then the mutters. Everyone talking at once, varying levels of sound, unsure whether to blame someone, or follow suit, or yell or even just sit and think. At first they just spoke amongst themselves, but then people were turning to Master Hand and drilling him with questions.

“Is Samus okay?!”

“What do we do?!”

“Master Hand, Master Hand…”

“A-are they really dead?”

“Who sent them there?”

“Master Hand, Master Hand…”

“Why… why would Ridley do that…?”

“We have to save them!”

“Master Hand…!”

“What’s going on?!”

“What. Just. Happened?!”

Master Hand decided he needed to lie down for a while.

[mrslittletall]

Title: Beast Exploration Fandom: Bloodborne Characters: Laurence the first Vicar/Ludwig the Holy Blade Word Count: 2.138 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18350912

Summary: After Laurence and Ludwig have found each other again, they explore what their bodies have become.

(Author's note: Oh look, it's my first lemon fic. It was the most difficult thing I have ever written and I felt like sweating, throwing up and cringing at the same time while I did it, but in the end, I managed. So, uh, I hope you enjoy and I can't believe that my first lemon is actually beast x beast! My innocence!)

“So, why do you look like a horse?”

Laurence circled Ludwig with this distinct walking of his beast form, hunched over, but still only on the hind legs, face turned to inspect Ludwig's new body and occasionally sniffing on him.

“...Unfortunately I don't remember how I became a beast.”, Ludwig replied. “I can only assume that when it happened, I was on my horse and we fused.”

“Understood, that probably made you more into some kind of centaur beast unless the more dog like beast I have become.”, Laurence crossed his arms and nodded at his words. “And a bit too much insight you had too, or how do you explain your eye neck?” Laurence squinted at the horrible neck which was aligned with eyes and had the feeling, Master Willem would had liked that.

“I know I am not the most pleasant sight nowadays.”, Ludwig said, head hanging low and Laurence felt awful for teasing him like this immediately.

“Oh, come on, look at me, I am in flames.”, he said and grinned or what felt like a grin, he was sure for any outsider seeing this his snout must have looked like he bared his teeth and would devour them immediately.

“And I don't think everything is bad.”, Laurence continued to circle Ludwig, observing his lower parts. “These legs look strong, you probably can run 50 miles in an hour like this.” Laurence stopped his pacing in front of Ludwig and took Ludwig's hands with both of his ones. “And look at these arms, feeling even more muscular as before. You surely can easily lift me up with those.”

Laurence could see how Ludwig's face twisted into a smile, as good as possible with the horse snout he now possessed. “Your arms are looking nice and strong too.”, he said. “Although I wonder, why is your left arm so much bigger?”

“I don't know, maybe because that was the arm I usually used for handiwork.”, Laurence answered with a straight face.

For a second they could feel the atmosphere drop at Laurence completely spontaneous joke, then they both were on their backs on the floor, wheezing from laughter. Laurence couldn't help but notice some beastly screeches in his and he could sworn he heard some whickering in Ludwig's.

Once they calmed down, Laurence turned himself over and got up, laying on his stomach, arms crossed. “But seriously, is my dick still there?”, he wondered. “Have you checked? I bet it is the size of a horse! It almost was like this earlier anyway.”

“Laurence, we have regained our consciousness only a few hours ago! Do you really think checking our genitals is important right now?”, Ludwig scolded. Laurence knew this tone. Ludwig had always been the righteous one. Despite him being able to destroy Laurence in the bed room. Laurence couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to take Ludwig into him right now.

“Aren't you curious?”, Laurence asked and got up on his feet, bending down to take a look at his crotch. He couldn't see anything so he twisted himself even more and used his beastly claws to comb through his fur.

“Laurence, please, you have regained consciousness two hours ago and you are already looking at your own crotch!”, Laurence could hear Ludwig say, but he didn't pay attention. He continued combing the fur to the side until he managed to find his member buried into it.

“Oh hey, it actually is still there.”, Laurence said. Satisfied with his discovery he relaxed and laid back down on the ground, but stared at Ludwig.

“What about yours?”, he said and grinned, being aware that he showed far too much teeth and got up, slowly approaching Ludwig.

“Laurence, what are you planning?”, Ludwig said and backed away, the sound of clawed hooves echoed on the ground. But Laurence already had jumped and knocked Ludwig over, eager to take a look at his private parts. Although, it seemed Ludwig wanted to have a say in this and so Laurence was pinned down by not only Ludwig's arm but also the two horse front legs, now his extra limps seemed to come in handy.

“Reee...”, Laurence complained when an idea stroke. He concentrated on his flames and managed to ignite them, make them burn hotter and Ludwig quickly let go of him, muttering: “Laurence, that was cheap.”, under his breath, rubbing his arms. This moment of distraction Laurence used to slip sideways at him and lift the horse tail that covered Ludwig's private parts and what he saw made his jaw drop and he forgot to close it for a good while.

“It really is the size of a horse now.”, he said after he had regained his composure.

“Well, are you happy now?”, Ludwig said, trotting away from Laurence in an offended stance.

“Yes.”, Laurence grinned. “Come on, that wasn't that bad.” Laurence laid down back on the cathedral floor again, arms and legs crossed, staring into nothingness, when he felt some long, slender fingers caressing his butt. “Reee...?”, escaped his throat in confusion.

“You have been a bad boy, Laurence.”, Ludwig said and Laurence could feel sweat form on his forehead, only that he was pretty sure that sweat was actually scalding hot lava. “Wouldn't it be a shame when something happened to your nice, firm butt?”

Laurence could feel how the long, slender fingers of Ludwig trailed down his rear and then one of them carefully entered his hole, probing around a bit. Laurence shivered and his first instinct was to ignite his flames but when he was about to turn up his body heat, Ludwig said: “Don't you dare flaming up, Laurence, you are at my mercy now.” Laurence could feel how a second finger got added, but actually, he didn't mind anymore. He felt turned on. How long had he stayed abstinent in this form, only searching for a thing that probably didn't even exist? He could allow himself to have some fun.

“Oh Ludwig, why do you think I would mind you fingering me?”, Laurence said, a moan escaping him from Ludwig's constant probing, even after all this time, after all the changes their body did go through, Ludwig still knew exactly where his sweet spot was. Laurence could feel how this tiny bit of fingering already prompted him to get an erection.

“Oh my, Laurence, have you been that starved?”, Ludwig apparently had noticed it too. And he didn't intend to stop cause Laurence could feel how a third finger entered and before he knew it, he already had came.

“Oh fuck, Ludwig...”, Laurence just said, his arms and knees on the ground, rear still up in the air, being painfully aware that he just was sitting in his own cum. And when he managed to turn his head to take a look, he...

“Laurence, did you just jizz out lava?”, Ludwig said in a flabbergasted voice. Laurence didn't answer, he had to process this for himself first. “That's it, I will never let you top.”, Ludwig continued and Laurence could feel like the horse man raised his two front legs to find a position to sit comfortably on him.

“As if you have ever let me top.”, Laurence whispered and concentrated on turning his body heat down, which turned out to be very difficult, because he was feeling so aroused that his flames wanted to blaze brighter on their own.

With his back still turned to Ludwig, Laurence only was able to feel what he did and the next step was Ludwig putting both of his hands on Laurence shoulders and Laurence prepared himself for what to come, closing his eyes but when he felt it actually enter, Laurence couldn't help but scream the loudest “Reeee” he ever produced. Or at least it had been the loudest since he had regained his sanity. He was aware that Ludwig's member had been huge already in flaccid form, but now that it was in erected form, it felt like someone had plugged a cork in his hole.

Squirming on the ground from the sheer pain and arousal, Laurence could hear Ludwig asking in a very concerned voice: “Laurence, are you still there? Was it too much?”

Laurence gasped for air and answered: “I am still there, I am just astounded because of your... size.”

“Well, then I will continue entering you now, alright?”

Laurence, gasping on the ground, supporting his whole weight with his arms, cocked his ears at this.

“What do you mean, it isn't in completely yet?!”, he screeched and finished with another “Reeee” once Ludwig had managed to completely enter his entrance. It felt like the most painful and simultaneously the most arousing thing he ever had witnessed.

“Are you sure you are feeling alright, Laurence?”, Ludwig asked.

Laurence, with his front lying on the ground, tongue hanging out of his snout, hind legs up in the air, just answered: “Never felt better.”

Laurence felt how the thrusting began. Each thrust was a painful delight for him and he could feel himself getting an erection again, such aroused was he at his boyfriend taking him, that they were both beasts didn't even bother Laurence anymore. He tried to get his front up, supported his weight one the large, left hand and with his right, smaller ones, his fingers searched for his cock. He found it, what wasn't an easy feat with his body being shaken by each thrust and closed his fingers around it, gently paying attention that his claws didn't touch it and started to stroke with quick, tight rubs.

While Laurence was taking care of his own member he felt the thrusting from Ludwig increasing and the pace go faster. And his body temperature rose. Shit, he was so aroused, he probably wouldn't be able to hold his flames cool any longer. He could feel more sweat forming, see the lava droplets sizzle on the ground, increased his own pace around his cock, intending to finish quickly before Ludwig made him double over, by the great ones, he was so huge. Even though Laurence was at the point where the pain completely vanished in favour of pleasure, he wanted to squirm and cry on the ground and so he was relieved when he felt the familiar throbbing of his cock and it spurted another pool of lava beneath him and Laurence just let himself fall, arms outstretched on the ground, head on it, moaning from the arousal that still was within his body, trying to keep his body heat low, but he felt like he would fail.

And finally, after what felt hours but surely had only lasted a few minutes he could feel the throbbing from Ludwig's dick in his butt and the wetness of his load. To his surprise, Ludwig withdrew immediately and Laurence whined at the sudden emptiness.

“Oh dear, sorry Laurence, you were too hot inside, I had to finish this early.”, he said.

Laurence, just flopped on the ground, too exhausted to move a single muscle, panting, just whimpered: “What do you mean, you had to finish this early? I am utterly destroyed!”

Now that the arousal had completely left him, only pain and exhaustion was left. He saw Ludwig laying down next to him, he had buckled his legs like a horse.

“Look around you, Laurence, you are literally lying in lava.”, Ludwig said. “You were becoming burning inside, actually, I think there is some lava trickling down your hole.”

“Well, after this it doesn't surprise me that I am bleeding.”, Laurence growled. “You have already noticed that my fluids turned into lava.”

Laurence was expecting a lot, but not Ludwig suddenly hugging him tight, he didn't even seem to be bothered by the still hot flames singing him a bit. “I missed you.”, he said. “I missed you so much.”

Laurence couldn't help but smile, inside the atrocious horse body was still the sweet Ludwig, the man he had fallen in love with so many years ago.

“How about we celebrate with some blood?”, Laurence suggested. “When I know anything about me, than that I have hoarded it even while being a mindless beast.”

“That is so you and that is what I love you for.”, Ludwig said, hugging Laurence even tighter.

“Even though it brought us into this mess?”, Laurence asked.

“We can talk about this later. For now, let's stay like this a little bit longer.”

Laurence couldn't complain about that. And while they stayed like that, he felt his flames cooling down, feeling like maybe, maybe they had deserved this second chance. (Author's note: So, when I fought Laurence, I was totally fascinated by his beast butt and also so pissed at his cheap one-shots that I wanted to have a fic where his butt got utterly destroyed. Surprise surprise, I didn't find anything like this! So yeah, I had to write it myself... I hope you enjoyed... Playing around with Laurence body temperature is loads of fun btw.)

[kaaramel]

Of course, not every archon is perfect. Sometimes they stumble and fall from the path they’ve chosen; sometimes they choose to reject the ways of archons; and sometimes they are ejected from the celestial ranks by their brethren... Since archons are naturally forgiving creatures, it takes some incredible foolishness for an archon to fall completely from the grace of Mount Celestia, never to return.

-- AD&D Monstrous Manual

uhhhhh time to run with it and be melodramatic i guess,

could not always organically work in narration explaining the ostensible pov char’s bizarre anatomy so i guess i’ll just remind you up front he has entire snakes for arms

tw: nonhuman/unconventional self harm

The shop is in its usual state when Chuubo steps through the door: empty of customers and full of magical odds and ends. There's more inventory than there is space to hold it, and all of it meticulously organized to some standard only the proprietor knows. Jasper is flitting and bobbing restless spirals around the crumbling stone lantern that she rests in to pretend she's a more ordinary magical lamp in front of customers; Chuubo's best friend is behind the reinforced sales counter, where their host usually sits, looking nervous and withdrawn.

"Everything okay?" Chuubo asks. Sometimes people mistake Seizhi for human, but Chuubo knows them better than that; knows them well enough to see they’re pale under the scatter of dark, scaly 'freckles' across their cheeks.

They shrug unhappily. "I dunno. Leonardo's upstairs."

"Did something happen?" Chuubo passes the neatly-wrapped parcel in his arms over the counter, tongues flicking out involuntarily after it at the scent of raw meat inside (three carnivores in one household meant a lot of trips to the butcher's). 

Jasper bobs closer and volunteers, "He looked upset, coming in, but he didn't say anything. I didn't want to pry."

"I can go talk to him," Chuubo says, and Seizhi looks relieved, and perhaps a little guilty about being relieved.

"He listens to you more than us," they say, and, "Good luck." 

There are three levels to the shop. The cramped front room is only a portion of the ground floor, with the rest given over to storage space for extra inventory, including the stranger and more valuable items Leonardo doesn't allow ordinary customers to see. Upstairs is mostly dominated by a sort of workshop for alchemy, crafting, and ritual, now with two cots intruding haphazardly into the tangle of devices and components and wards. Leonardo's own room is a cramped and spartan little attic, which Chuubo has only been permitted to see once or twice. With no other choice at the moment, he picks his way carefully through the workshop level, studiously careful where he places his long tail, and knocks. There's no response, but no lock, either; after a long moment, he pushes the door open and steps through.

His first impression is of a gently shifting ball of fire, and then the sight resolves into Leonardo's wings, a blaze of sunset colors that somehow catch the weak light of the barred windows so perfectly they're nearly glowing. He's curled up inside them somewhere, making soft little noises, almost birdlike, nothing a humanoid throat should produce. When Chuubo's tongues flick out nervously, he tastes something metallic and sharp in the air.

"Leonardo..?" Chuubo ventures closer, a step, and then dashes forward to grab clumsily at the devil’s hands. Leonardo snarls and recoils, tugs easily out of his grip - Chuubo hadn't wanted to bite down - but at least it's stopped him from methodically pulling out his own feathers, for the moment. Scraps of orange and yellow and red are littered carelessly over the floorboards, like dying embers.

"Go away," he chokes out, in a raspy contralto, and Chuubo is startled to realize he isn't wearing any of his usual faces. Rather than the shorter jet-black hair he favors, pale-gold locks fall over features too smooth and perfect to be mortal, and he's crying, gasping little chirps and trills of distress as tears flow down those lovely cheeks.

"You're hurting yourself," Chuubo says, plaintive, and coils his arms around Leonardo's wrists more gently, holds them in place. "Please, did something happen?"

He takes a deep breath; flexes his hands, but doesn't pull away. "A-archon," he manages, and then dissolves back into wordless keening.

"Jasper?" Chuubo asks, anxiously. His tail curls gently around the shaking erinyes, not tightly, not pulling him closer, just supporting.

"No - " frustrated, insistent, almost a shout, and then quieter - "In, in the market. A messenger. A..." He says a word in some lilting, melodic Celestial dialect, halting and uncertain from disuse. The sense of it arrives in Chuubo’s mind anyway, and the word he understands it as is trumpet.

"And... they said something to you?" Chuubo guesses, uncertain.

Leonardo leans in, unexpectedly, takes Chuubo into the circle of his wings, buries his face against the yuan-ti's chest. His tears are almost unbearably hot. 

"The message was for me," he whispers, and not aloud; Chuubo's heard that baatezu have a form of telepathy, but de Montreal has never used it around him. His audible voice is still letting out soft, warbling birdsong-sobs against Chuubo's scales as he continues, "If I'm willing to apologize, seek penance and atonement -" a long, high note, that trails off into more ordinary weeping - "The gates of Mount Celestia could open for me again. They'd take me back."

Chuubo coils a little closer, holds him with arms and tail, lets him chirp and wail for a few moments longer. "Are you crying because... because you want to go? Or because you don't want that?"

Leonardo makes a choked noise that might be laughter, if laughter had no humor behind it. "Y-you - didn't - see," he tries, aloud, and then resorts to telepathy again: "You didn't see how she looked at me, at Sigil, at everything. You didn't see how quickly she left. Couldn't stand to be here, talking to me."

He pushes Chuubo away again, tries to reach for a frayed patch on one wing, almost convulsively. Chuubo holds him firm, and sweeps up one of the discarded feathers from the floor with a dexterous flick of his tailtip; holds that out instead, insistently, until Leonardo takes it. It's longer than his palm, rich golden-yellow shading to orange, and when Chuubo cautiously releases his hands, he runs his fingertips over the soft vanes with repetitive, mechanical focus. 

"I wanted to ask if there had been troubles with the lanterns," he continues, in a more even tone, emotion more tightly controlled. "If other petitioners had gone missing, or if Jasper was unique, or if Celestia knew she was missing at all. But she recited the message and was gone."

"So she was in a hurry," Chuubo says, gently. "Now you know they've forgiven you, you can go there and ask directly. You could escort Jasper home yourself!"

"Not without giving myself to them." He scrubs the back of one hand across his face, harshly, mental voice full of bitterness. "Not without begging for absolution, accepting demotion, slotting back into their pretty little hierarchy, thanking the holy tomes for their mercy. I'd be down to a lantern again myself, probably, until they finally decide they can trust me again..."

"Shh, shh." Chuubo rocks back and forth, tries to soothe away the pain and agitation practically radiating off Leonardo’s words. "How do you know? It's paradise, isn't it? They'd want you to be happy. Maybe if you explained -"

"They can't imagine I'd be happy any other way," he says, flat. Plucks at the feather in his hands, trying to pull it apart. "I know because I know Celestia. Everything has a place and a purpose and a reason. It's beautiful. It's perfect. I don't want it back."

"You deserve it, though, you know. Even if you don't think so."

Leonardo lets the feather drop, rests his head against Chuubo's shoulder. "I've done terrible things. I've been terrible to you."

"You've been kind. In ways that count. And you're already trying to make things up." He nudges the brass amulet around Leonardo's neck with the snout of one hand. 

"I don't want to give up this body," Leonardo admits. Draws his wings tighter around himself and Chuubo. "Looking how I want to look. Vain. I'd be confined to the mountain. Selfish." A long, shuddering breath, and then, aloud, "I'd be leaving you."

Chuubo has no response for a long moment, just holds Leonardo close, tongues flicking to take in the dry, sulfuric, Baatorian smell of him, the acid of his tears.

"Not just you," he continues. His voice is thick and clumsy but he persists. Maybe he’s afraid to give too much away. It’s harder to read his emotional tone now than it was when coming straight from his mind. “You, Seizhi, everyone I’ve met. All the places. All the planes. I’d be giving that up for some - some narrow little ideal of paradise. Where I know I wouldn’t be happy. I already tried that. I don’t want to bounce back and forth between the h-heavens and hells for eternity. I just want Sigil. I want -”

He squeezes his eyes shut and leans into Chuubo's arms, in a boneless, exhausted slump.

"...Then you should have that." Chuubo nuzzles against his forehead, light and brief. "Are the archons going to be upset if you turn them down?"

"Probably be glad," Leonardo mumbles.

“Then stay. They don’t know what they’re losing.”

He sniffs, makes a show out of pointedly rolling his eyes, but the sarcasm loses a lot of sting when he’s still cuddled close, his wings warm and soft against Chuubo’s back. 

“I need to clean up,” he says, eventually, reluctantly. “Go back downstairs and tell Seizhi I’m not kicking you out, before they fret themself to pieces.”

“Aw, we know better by now.” Chuubo disentangles himself slowly, lets Leonardo sit up, pull away, resettle his wings behind his back. “You haven’t kicked us out yet, you’re never gonna.”

[tmntreasures]

Back Together (Donatello)

A continuation of the Breakup Prompt.

Prompt:

    You were one of the lucky few who had managed to land a job within six months of graduating. Though it was not exactly in your field for now, the more you worked your way up, the closer to your goal you would be. Even better, the job was located back in New York. After a month and a half, you finally felt settled in your new but familiar home. There was just one thing that lingered over you: how to tell your mutant ex that you were back.

Donatello:

     The light radiating from the computer screens reflected off his glasses; for the first time, the light felt too bright, making Donatello remove the spectacles from his face. His hand began to massage his face and the bridge of his snout as he continued to process what he just read. Doubt crawled through his nerves but his rational thinking brought his fingers back to life. Within minutes he was running multiple scans over the message, making sure they were sent from the correct address and that the writing patterns matched yours. Everything came back positive, proving that you had indeed sent him the note.

     Hey Donatello!

     I graduated a couple of months ago (finally) and you wouldn't believe it. I actually managed to land a job! But it gets even better: the job is in New York! I'm already moved into my new apartment.

     I'd really like it if you would stop by tonight at 10 pm. I've got a picture attached of the place; I circled which one is my balcony. Oh, and the actual address is on the picture too in case that's better.

     I understand if you don't want to come over; I just wanted to talk to you about a couple of things. At the very least, I thought you had a right to know I was back in town.

     Hope I see you tonight.

     His eyes ran over the words multiple times, still in disbelief that you had bothered to contact him. During your three year absence he had kept tabs on your social media pages. Not once did he contact you, no matter how distressing some of your statuses had been; but you had asked him not to leave an electronic trail for anyone to follow and he had respected that.

     During your first summer break, you made a post that left Donatello heart broken. You began a relationship with a human boy, and even though it only lasted a couple of months, it still left the mutant turtle in a state of sorrow. You had moved on, and so quickly too. Once his grief was replaced with anger, he dug up every piece of dirt he could on this boy. Unfortunately the college kid had no criminal record, but he did have a rather questionable search history.

     “Damn it. Damn it. Damn it,” he chewed on his nails as he stared at the screen displaying the dirt he had dug up.

     For weeks he debated whether he should leak the sensitive information online for you to see. It might not have been any of his business, but you should at least have a right to know your new boyfriend had quite a long list of fetishes. Most of them were ones Donatello knew you wouldn't be into. The only upside would be that the boy would be publicly shamed and you might even break up with him.

     Luckily for the strange boy, Leonardo intervened before Donatello could submit anything. “What are you doing Donnie?” The blue-clad ninja had asked with crossed arms.

     Donatello jumped at the sound of his brother's voice and he quickly turned the screen off, hoping he hadn't seen any of it. “N-nothing! Just uh, keeping track of police scanners. Nothing interesting yet though. I'll be sure to uh, keep you posted,” he tried to act like he was busy, hoping his brother would leave. Leonardo shook his head and sauntered over to the wall of monitors, turning on the one he had just switched off. His cool blue eyes scanned over the list, “So this is what you found out about the guy?”

     Surprise made Donatello turn to face him quickly. “H-how do you know?” He looked down at him with a sympathetic smile and nodded at the screens. “You've been leaving your work open lately.”

     An aggravated groan rumbled in Donatello's throat and he thumped a fist against his forehead. Of course. He had been so flustered with the news of your new boyfriend that he wasn't keeping the right things hidden from his brothers. He was surprised that Michelangelo hadn't said anything yet, but perhaps Raphael had threatened him enough to keep his mouth shut.

     “Listen Donnie,” Leonardo started, walking over to where he was sitting. “I can't imagine how hard this must be for you, but you can't hold on to this. Not anymore.”

     He knew his older brother was right, he always was. But his heart still screamed for you; and his mind still conjured thoughts of your gorgeous smile and your beautiful eyes. Just the thought of someone else experiencing your beauty made his blood boil.

     “You don't think I know that?” Donatello snapped but took a deep breath as soon as the words had left him. It wasn't Leonardo's fault, he reminded himself. Once he had regained his composure he continued, “I just...wasn't expecting them to move on so fast.”

     Leonardo frowned and looked at the screen, trying to decide what words would be best to use. “I don't think any of us did,” he admitted. “But if this will make them happy, wouldn't you want that?”

     The purple-clad turtle took his glasses off to wipe at his misty eyes. “Of course. I just thought it'd be me making them happy...” He clenched his jaw and tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. A hand squeezed his shoulder comfortingly and he patted at it.

     “I know Donnie,” Leonardo said quietly. “I know how much they meant to you. But if you still have any love for them, you won't reveal that boy's secrets.”

     The endearment he was feeling for his brother quickly disappeared. It wasn't the advice he was looking for, but his older brother was right. You were simply living your life. Who was he to decide who you should or shouldn't date? After all, you had made it very clear that you and the giant mutant turtle were done.

     Donatello did not notice his brother leave until he tried to thank him. When he returned his attention to his set-up, his eyes focused on the light-up USB you had given him before your departure. Just looking at the multi-colored plastic turtle sent him in a fury he had never felt before. He snatched it out of the port and threw it as hard as he could. He heard the plastic make impact with something soft before it landed on the concrete floor.

     Tears began to trickle down his face and the lump in his throat refused to budge. Sniffles turned to sobs and the mutant buried his face into his palms, finally letting out all of his jealousy and grief. After he could not cry any longer, he sat silently in his chair; his eyes never leaving the monitor that showed the boy's secrets. Never before had his fingers felt so heavy as he reached forward to delete the information. He let out a shaky breath and leaned back, closing his eyes as he tried to empty out his mind.

     Minutes passed and he finally opened his eyes, rolling his head to look at the tower that once housed the turtle-shaped USB. He missed the little light and got up to look for the device, hoping it had not shattered on impact. Luckily for him, it was still intact and he plugged it back into the computer, watching as the plastic turtle slowly changed colors.

     After that he stayed off of your pages for months; it wasn't until curiosity got the best of him that he checked your page again. This time, he saw that you and the other human had broken up. He had never felt so relieved to see a relationship fail before and you had not picked up anymore relationships after that.

     But even that bittersweet victory did not stop his emotions from battling each other when it came to you. There were nights where he would weep at the memory of you and long for the warmth of your body against his. Then there were days where he would recall every argument you two had and he would loathe you. For two years he tried to balance his feelings, requesting extra help from Splinter on particularly bad days. Eventually he was able to come to the calming conclusion that although he still had feelings for you, if you had moved on then it was out of his control. He just wished he could find someone else to move on with.

    All of those emotions he thought he had under control suddenly ran rampant after reading your message. He had always taken pride in his rational way of handling things, but when it came to you his heart took full control and kicked his mind to the curb. He couldn't decide if he was angry or ecstatic that you had contacted him. When he couldn't calm himself he turned off the computers and began to meditate.

     He took a deep breath in. Then released a long exhale. Another inhale, another exhale.

     The process went on until he was finally calm enough to use his mind properly and examine the situation. On the one hand, it would be terrifying to go; the meeting could lead to more heartbreak after all. But it did sound like you wanted to talk in the note, so this could be his chance to get some closure on a few things. In the end, it would be much better for him, emotionally, if he visited you.

     Donatello made sure to download the picture you had attached in the note and prepared himself for tonight.

-----

     This meeting you arranged with Donatello was your chance to get back with him. It had been your intention the moment you accepted the job in New York. There had been better opportunities offered to you; better benefits, a nice retirement plan, and a few of them were in cheap living areas too. But none of them had him.

     Your first year of college had been terrifying; your family tried to make you feel at ease, but the new environment and stress of the assignments were not the problem. You missed the giant mutant turtle more than you thought you would have. There were nights where you just sat in your room and hugged your pillow, wishing you could hear him talk about whatever new device he had created or geek out with him over your hobbies. Sleeping had proven to be difficult as well, for no matter how many blankets you threw on your bed it always felt so cold.

     When your final grades had come back, you noticed they were not as great as you had wanted them to be. You knew the problem too; you missed Donatello and it was prohibiting you from focusing on school work. That was when you had the idea to start another relationship with someone.

     You had figured the companionship would at least ease your mind enough to get through tough projects and study nights. That was why you had gotten with the boy during your first summer break; however, your plan had backfired. Instead of getting over Donatello, you did nothing but compare the boy to your New York lover. This distraction was not nearly as tall, muscular, or smart as the mutant ninja. He did not get your jokes or your quirks; and he especially did not understand how reading in the same room counted as 'hanging out'.

     Never in a hundred years did you ever think you would have more in common with a teenage mutant ninja turtle instead of another human being. It was then that you realized no one could ever replace the intelligent reptile and you broke up with your summer fling after only a couple of months of dating. Luckily the break up was as smooth as break ups get and you were finally given time to cope with your grief.

     During your sophomore year, you finally had a breakthrough: You were always going to miss him, but if you managed to do well in college then you were more likely to go back to New York and be reunited with him. It was that little hope that drove you to do so well in your classes. It had been hard, and there were nights where you stared at a wall for hours after having a breakdown and wondered if you actually could do all of this. All you had to do was think about that goofy smile of his and gave yourself a pep-talk before you finally went back to the grind.

     All of your hard work had paid off and here you were, in your very own New York apartment. It was small, of course, and you could hear the neighbors if they ever decided to raise their voices, but it was yours. The only thing missing was Donatello.

     As the time grew closer to ten, your body began to shake and your heart raced in a combination of nervousness and excitement. Multiple scenarios ran through your head, some good and some bad. You truly hoped he would still care about you at least, but it would be devastating if he hated you. After all, all of your hard work had been for this moment. If he turned you down, even to be friends, you weren't sure what you would do.

     The tapping noise startled you out of your thoughts and made you snap your attention to the balcony window. Just the sight of his lean silhouette made your heart race and your legs weak. You made sure to take careful steps, afraid you would trip and fall if you went too fast.

     “Hey!” You greeted him in a shaky voice once you opened the window. Your cheeks began to burn from how hard you were smiling.

     Just the sight of you again made his emotions run wild; his heart raced with love and his gut twisted in grief once he recalled your ex. “H-hi,” He started.      You leaned against the frame, trying to cut through the awkwardness. “So...how have you been?”

    He wanted nothing more than to release all of his grief and anger out on you the moment the question left your lips. It was so bad it made his stomach burn; but instead he took in a deep breath and spoke as calmly as he could. “I-I've been alright. Fighting bad guys, making firewalls. The usual.”

     He saw you frown when he mentioned firewalls and he mentally smacked himself. That had been his primary argument to use against you when you had broken the news to him three years ago. He thought if he could make an impenetrable firewall for you and your family, then the two of you could at least sustain a long-distance relationship without alerting any enemies.

     Despite how he had initially felt when he saw you, he still felt guilty when the pain crossed your face. He smiled weakly and nodded, “So uh, can I come in? Might suck if someone sees me hanging out back here.” He chuckled nervously.

     “Oh! Y-yeah,” You stepped aside and let him in, closing the window behind him.“Do you want some tea?” You offered, already making your way to the kitchen. You figured a beverage would be a good way to ease the tension in the air.

     “Sure,” He watched as you began to heat up the stove and fill the kettle with water. Every move you made he took in as his mind tried to decide if this was a dream. For a moment, all of his negativity was washed away and all he could feel were butterflies in his stomach. He sat down on the bar stool and leaned forward, his brown eyes darting as they followed every movement and jerk your limbs made. None of his dreams could compare to what he saw now. Your hair was the perfect length, your skin was the perfect shade, and your eyes shimmered perfectly, and your smile...

     Words could not compare just how wonderful it was to see you smile at him again.

     The screeching kettle jarred him out of his thoughts and made him sit up straight. He watched you pour the boiling water into two mugs. There was a big smile on your face as you handed him his cup, making him look down to see what it was. The mug started off black, but as the heat began to engulf its curved walls, tetris blocks began to appear. He smiled as memories of the two of you playing the retro game filled his mind.

     “I'm surprised you still have this,” He held it up by the handle, not daring to take a sip yet.

     You shrugged and leaned against the other side of the bar. “Of course I do. It's my favorite mug,” you smiled, remembering how delighted he had been to see your reaction when you finally saw the blocks show up for the first time. Donatello had given it to you on your birthday and you did your best to use it every chance you could.

     There was not a moment to lose, however. The reason why you invited him over crossed your mind and you figured it was now or never. After all, more small talk could come later after the two of you worked out your relationship.

     “Donnie, you know I invited you here for a reason,” you started a little hesitantly at first, but gained confidence after every word. “And I'm just going to say it. I want to get back together.”

     Any trace of frustration he had was replaced with concern and doubt. Of course he wanted to accept your offer, but the only thing that made him hesitate was your ex. Even though it had been a short-lived relationship, you still had had a taste of a normal life with a normal boyfriend. The two of you no doubt had gone to see a movie, eaten dinner in a public place, and stroll about the world freely. No matter how much he wished, Donatello would never be able to give you a fraction of that life. That was why he hesitated. He was terrified that later on, you would long for that experience again; the only experience he could never give you. And if you were to end it again, he wasn't sure how it may affect him. This first breakup had been devastating for him and he didn't want to go through that again.

     As much as he wanted to say 'yes', he stopped himself. “Are...you sure?” He asked.

     The question made you frown in confusion. “Of course! I love you Donatello,” you reached forward and touched his hand with a smile.

     The answer made him tense. He could feel his heart clench at the words. For three years he wanted nothing more than to hear you utter them again. But there was a sour taste in his mouth as doubt began to crawl around his mind. When he heard those words, all he could think about was the other boy you had met, and he wondered if you ever told him the same thing.

     “You're positive?” He pressed again.

     At the second question you could feel your heart drop. Why wasn't he accepting your proposal? Did he really hate you? The possibility made your body shake nervously, making you lick your lips. “Yes! I am.”

     There was a long silence and he narrowed his eyes at you. “And you're sure you want to do this again? With me?”

     You finally pulled away from him and scoffed, getting aggravated. “Yes, Donnie! That's why I'm asking you! Why are you asking that?”

     “Because you already know what a normal relationship is like!” He finally snapped. The moment the words left his mouth he winced, regretting it when he saw your expression.

     You stared at him in a mixture of skepticism and betrayal. “And what's that supposed to mean?” You asked, wondering if you even wanted the answer. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat before admitting his crime. “I know because...I saw it on your social page.”

     “You were stalking me?” You asked in disbelief.

     “I wanted to make sure you were doing okay!” He defended himself before huffing. “And apparently you were.”

     The words stabbed you like a knife, making the tears roll down your face. “I only dated him because I missed you!”

     He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “See, that's not fair. You can move on and try to forget, but I can't!” The tears shimmered brightly, even behind his glasses. “You have billions of people you can pick from to help you, but I'm forced to deal with your ghost.” He sniffled and yanked his glasses off, tossing them onto the counter. “I missed you so much! And you moved on so quickly...” He covered his eyes and swallowed back the sobs. “Did I mean anything to you? Ever?” He managed to get out, not daring to look at you.

     Never before had your gut contorted so painfully as you listened to his words and watched him break down. You didn't think about how the relationship would look to him. Although the two of you had already separated when you started dating the boy, and therefore technically making it none of Donatello's business, you still felt guilty. “D-Donatello,” You whimpered, wiping the tears from your cheek as you continued. “My grades dropped the first year because I couldn't stop thinking about you.”

     His sniffling began to die down as you spoke and he finally began to listen. “I missed you so much it affected my work!” Your heart raced as you explained, hoping he would understand. “I thought...I just needed someone around and I would feel better. But it just got worse.” Your shoulders began to droop and your eyes lowered in shame. “I never felt anything for him ever because he wasn't you.” You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I've always loved you Donatello. You're the reason I'm back here. You're the reason I graduated and why I worked my ass off to get good grades. So yes, you meant more than just something to me. You mean everything to me.”

     Your words began to soothe his aching heart and he slowly lifted his head. He stared at you, his mask stained with tears and eyes red. “I can't give you a normal life,” He admitted with a quivering voice. “Whatever you were able to do with him, I could never try to do with you,” he shrugged his shoulders.

     “All of the things I could do with you, I couldn't do with him,” You told him, your thumb rubbing his hand. “He never wanted to read with me. He didn't like our favorite shows. And he didn't know the difference between 'their', 'there', and 'they’re'.” You chuckled a little, hoping the giant mutant would crack a smile.

     He snorted and shook his head. “Well...you always knew how to pick really crappy boyfriends,” He finally joked and managed a weak smile.

     Your heart raced when you saw him lift his other hand to place on top of yours. “If anyone's crappy it's me,” You returned the smile and sighed. “I'm so sorry Donatello.”

     “It's okay.” At the words he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Finally, he had gotten his closure and his stomach began to untie itself. “It's okay.”

     Hearing those words sent relief throughout your body and the stabbing guilt began to dissipate. Your hand snaked out of his grip so you could wipe the tears off his skin. Your eyes locked the moment you began to caress his cheek and time seemed to stop, if only for a second. Very slowly the two of you inched forward, stopping only until your lips brushed against each other. It was a gentle kiss, but it was enough to let him know you were his, and he was yours.

     Immediately you began to cry, the last of your guilt spilling out as tears and choked sobs. You pushed your palms against your eyes in a poor attempt to stop the tears but it seemed useless. Instantly, Donatello got out of his seat and walked around the bar to be at your side.

     He wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly as you cried into his hard body. “It's okay,” he said comfortingly as he rested his cheek on top of your head.

     “I'm s-so -suh-sorry...!” You said between sobs.

     “I know,” he said, holding back his own tears. “I'm sorry too.”

     Finally you finished crying and pulled away. He walked away only to bring back a box of tissues. You happily took a couple to clean your face off and took deep breaths to calm yourself down.

     “Better?” He asked, putting a hand on your shoulder.

     You nodded and looked up at him with a smile. “I am now that you're here,” even though you knew it was a cheesy line, it was the truth. The smile that appeared on the turtle's face made you hug him before placing a long kiss on his lips.

     At the feeling of your intimate gesture his hands grabbed your waist to hold you gently in place. When the two of you finally parted he nodded. “So this is okay? You and me that is?” He asked, wanting to make sure you were certain about this one last time.

     The smile on your face grew and your heart raced. “Always,” you nodded. “I missed you too much Donnie. I won't leave you like that ever again.”

     The little promise made, washed away any remaining doubt he had about your intentions. He wrapped an arm around you and lead you to the living room. “C'mon. We got a lot of catching up to do.”

     You followed him, feeling as if you were on cloud nine. “Yeah we do.”

[characteroulette]

So I talk about Game Kids a lot. Why not post a little write thing I did when I was supposed to be going to bed before sunrise?

  (This is sorta canon? But anything told from Damon or Nicu’s perspective is not gonna be in the story as it is, so.)

  They'd been minding their own business, making their way through the Seventh Circle, when they'd been ambushed by the other team. (All right, to be fair, it was mostly that prince guy, Petel the wolf, and Abe who did the ambushing, with Ernest and Dante hanging back, but still. Three-fifths was majority.) And Jonathan had only offered up a quiet, "Oh." Then, after a moment (in which Damon and gang had scrambled to find some cover and Natasha and Aglaé took some hard hits), followed that with, "Looks like you guys have company."

  "Really, now?" Damon hissed at the sky, his forked tongue slipping out from the force. Ugh, he hated it when that happened. It was so uncouth. Didn't stop him from being spitting mad, still. "Is that the best you've got to offer on this situation?"

  "Damon, please." Nicu exhaled softly, looking back at Damon. They'd somehow managed it where Nicu and Damon were at the edge of the cover to check on their attackers while Aglaé and Natasha were behind them and Vektoria was probably off in battle with Vektor all ready. Nicu, of course, was always sensitive to their terrible support's feelings. "Jonathan's doing his best. There's no need to get mad at--"

  Nicu's eyes went wide and Damon recognised the look of pain before Nicu screamed. The sound of gunshots and a quick glance revealed that yes, Nicu's cape had been damaged. Nicu crumpled to the ground in agony and tears, his cape reflexively wrapping tightly around himself. Jonathan's voice resonated overhead, an actual fucking emotion in it for once, but Damon's ears had attuned only to the sounds of Nicu's pain.

  Damon glared out across the plateau and met with Abe's eyes. The eyes of a cold-blooded hunter. The eyes Abe's father had forced into that boy's skull, the eyes that had broken Nicu's heart just a few years ago. Abe had the rifle aimed at them, but Damon's vision went red. Then all he could hear was the singing of the Midnight Bard.

--

  Though in pain, Nicu watched the events unfold in rapid succession. Abe shot Damon in the shoulder and Damon's eyes glowed red. Just like Orpheus' eyes. Then Damon reached over to grab his single red wing, his hands becoming charred black with sharper claws, and he ripped the wing from his back in one bloody motion.

  "What the--" Jonathan's voice made Nicu jump. Nicu looked to the sky a moment to better listen. "Damon, what the hell? Your HP just exceeded 400,000 percent. Did you--Did he go berserk?"

  Damon's back arched as he grew suddenly to the size of a building and a different, black wing erupted from there, stretching nearly to the top of the sky box. Half of Damon's face had become burnt black, he'd grown a snout with tusks, and three extra horns curled out on each side of his head. The red wing he'd ripped out had become a fancy red sword and dripped with blood. Nicu gulped, words to describe anything that had happened escaping him. Or perhaps his brain had been numbed from the mixture of pain and shock. Aglaé, on the other hand, grimaced before speaking. "I'd say so."

  Natasha giggled uneasily. "Wellp. It was nice knowing all of you. May we work together again one day."

  "We're not dying here." Vektoria growled, landing beside Nicu shortly as she was flung back by Vektor's attack. Her mask had manifested, making her eyes white. "If you can't overcome this obstacle, then you're all unworthy of being my escorts."

  "Oh. Sure." Jonathan's voice quickly dropped back to sarcasm. "An HP sponge boss is the best test for your hilariously un-prepared entourage. Especially with extra enemies to deal with and after being ambushed by said enemies."

  Vektor clashed with Vektoria, knocking her further back. Natasha laughed, this time more genuinely. "Uh, duh! Obviously, Johnny boy, that's the best test."

  "Please never call me that again."

  Jonathan's annoyance turned to tiredness and Natasha grinned. Speaking of the danger, Nicu could hear gunshots. It seemed Abe hadn't given up on fighting Damon, despite the berserk situation. Petel, meanwhile, had retreated to stand by Vicario and Ernest. Vicario looked to be in a panic, judging from the erratic fire and the screaming. Vicario always seemed to be screaming whenever Nicu saw him, the poor dear.

  Nicu gulped and stood carefully to better observe the battle. Damon roared and charged at Abe, swinging that sword and striking down any in-sight rock outcroppings. Nicu noted that Damon still had hooved feet, but his faun tail had become that of an imp's, long and lizard-like with a spear head at the end. An icy grip rooted Nicu to the spot. They'd made Damon become the demon he'd never wanted to be all his life, grotesque and monstrous, just as they'd forced Nicu to become the vampire he'd refused to acknowledge. And Nicu crumpled back down to his knees, unable to stop his tears.

  "The fuck're you doing, Vampire?" Vektoria screeched over at Nicu, stomping down onto the ground beside him as she flung Vektor off of her. Nicu flinched, only able to hiccup in reply. Vektor regained his footing quickly and charged back at Vektoria with his key staff, which she blocked in time easily. She had the fury from battle fuelling her screams at Nicu. "Help us out here, don't just sit there and cry!"

  "Leave him alone, 'Toria." Natasha swooped over and kicked Vektor square in the face, the clang of her boot against his visor harsh to Nicu's ears. At least it distanced the two a bit. Natasha crossed her arms over her chest and huffed at Vektoria. "Nicu's got a lot of feelings."

  Vektoria, chastised, tried to save face by rolling her eyes as a reply. She then darted up to swipe at Vektor with her key saber. Natasha landed by Nicu and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

  "We got this, no worries. If you need to cry, don't let us stop you, okay?"

  Nicu nodded vaguely, sniffing. "Thanks."

  "Though, if I may." Jonathan's voice spoke up, making them both turn their gazes skyward. "You could try getting back to the last checkpoint, Niculaie, so I can log you out and you don't have to worry about Mister Asheford rampaging over there."

  Natasha gave an interested 'ooh'. Nicu did his best to wipe his eyes with his shoulders, then shook his head. "N-No. Thank you, Jonathan."

  "You sure? He may destroy it at the rate he's going."

  Nicu smiled, though it was a weary one. "I want to stay as long as I can. Like he did for me."

  "That's so sweet." Natasha cooed.

  Jonathan gave an over-exaggerated sigh, but he was probably smiling about it, too. Jonathan's heart was definitely in the right place. Aglaé skidded by where Nicu and Natasha sat and frowned bemusedly at them. "You both know we're in the middle of a battle right now, correct?"

  Natasha stuck her tongue out at Aglaé. "Nicu needed a moment." She quickly turned her gaze up towards the sky. "C'mon, Jon, back me up here."

  "I've told you, my name's Jonathan."

  "See? Jon agrees with me."

  Natasha grinned at Aglaé and Nicu chuckled quietly. Aglaé simply shook his head. "You know what, fine. Whatever."

  Aglaé sunk closer to the ground, the muscles in his bony legs tensed and visible despite the fur, then he sprang back towards the skirmish. It looked like Damon had been wounded, at least, judging from the dark red splotches of matted fur, but also Vicario and Ernest had disappeared from view. Now, it seemed, someone (probably Petel) had convinced Vektor and Vektoria to join the fight against Damon instead of squabbling against each other.

  Natasha glanced from Nicu to the battle. She stood and placed one of her hands on her hip, leaning her weight that way. "D'ya think we'd even be able to knock him to his senses?"

  She raised her free hand in a fist, as if to illustrate her meaning clearer to Nicu. He hesitated before speaking, his eyes darting to the red-brown ground of the plateau. "I'm. I don't know. We didn't really get to experience our berserks like this during testing."

  And it wasn't like Abe could recount any of their experiences. Nicu's shoulders drooped at the thought. Natasha watched him a moment longer, then lifted into the air to hover. "Oh well. No better time to find out." She grinned, then flew off towards the battle, laughing. "Here comes the night! Gotham City's justice!"

  "Why are you like this?"

  Jonathan's exasperated voice overhead made Nicu laugh, though it petered out quickly. Natasha was right, Nicu had needed a moment to really take in how their designs seemed to fully disregard their own feelings about their monstrosity. Just another reminder from the game makers that their lineage and fates were unchangeable and doomed. Even Abe fell into the same boat with them and Nicu hadn't seen Abe's berserk yet.

  And Vicario no doubt had it worse than the rest of them.

  His resolve steeled, Nicu stood and flapped out his cape experimentally. The bullet holes still stung, no surprise there, but at least the cape didn't bleed. That would've made things more weird than they all ready were. "Okay." He took a deep breath and lifted off the ground to hover. So far, so good. "How much left to go on Damon's health, Jonathan?"

  "About 301,750 percent." Jonathan's reply was instant. "If you're getting in there, be careful. His range and damage output increased in proportion with his size, so about a ten-times multiplier."

  "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." Nicu began gliding towards the battle. A thought struck him and he laughed humourlessly at it. "How long would you estimate it would take the enemies to knock Damon out should we fail?"

  "Three hours." Jonathan gave an unamused groan. "At least, at his current HP percentage. Three hours of time I could be better making use of researching or working in the labs."

  "Or doing homework." Nicu laughed again. "We'll try out best, don't worry."

  "I'm always low-key worried that you lot are going to take up all my time to begin with."

  Nicu dove in beside Natasha to block her from a swing of Damon's clawed hand. It didn't quite work, as the force still pushed the two of them a fair ways back. At least it hadn't been the sword. Natasha gave Nicu's shoulder a thankful pat, then she spun further up into the air to use her frost breath in Damon's face.

  Nicu glided around to Damon's side and landed on Damon's back, where Petel and Aglaé were both working on clawing and biting into various spots. Nicu stumbled as Damon attempted to shrug them off, then Nicu floated to the top of Damon's head. The eight horns protruding from his forehead and his temples seemed like a good place to start. Nicu took a deep breath, extended his fangs, and chomped down on the horn closest to him. The HP drain kicked in and, for a moment, the rush made Nicu dizzy. Jonathan even shouted his name. Nicu had to release before the overload made him pop.

  "That's one way to quickly acquire 4000 percent HP, I guess." Jonathan heaved out a breath, so done with this predicament all ready.

  And Nicu could share the HP amongst the players. This fight was, indeed, do-able.

[fae713]

Two Worlds

Air gently moved in and out, her heartbeat matched it, faster with every inhalation, slower with exhalation. Blood coursed through her veins, fast then slow then fast again with every beat of her heart. Electricity zapped along her nerves causing muscles to pull, push, and shift in nearly imperceptible movements.

“You’re doing it again, Tanya,” a quiet voice pulled her out of her meditation. She started, knocking the book on her lap to the floor where it landed with a muffled thud. “I don’t understand how you do that,” Diane whispered, as she placed her own books on the hardwood table and sat down on the mismatched chair next to Tanya. “It’s like you go into a trance or something. You’re here but no one is home.”

“It’s called meditation, you should try it sometime,” Tanya mumbled as she attempted to cover a yawn with a hand while arching her back and stretching out ridiculously long legs and arms.  She hadn’t realized she had been waiting in the still library long enough for her to fall so deeply into her subconscious mind and body. “You’re late.”

“Yep,” Diane said then pulled two large travel mugs from her bag, “the line at the café was ridiculously long.”

“You brought coffee? All is forgiven!” Tanya grabbed at one of them and popped open the sealed top. “Mmm, hazelnut,” she took a long drink and sighed. “Okay,” Tanya glanced at her watch, “I have to leave in about six hours, so do you wanna focus on bio or lit?”

“Bio, we’ve got that test on tomorrow. Your work hours have gotten weird, what do you even do there?”

“I switched to working the street rather than stare at a screen so it’s just wandering around and telling off people for trespassing.” Diane gave Tanya a long skeptical look then sighed and then flipped open a heavy textbook to a chapter near the middle.

“What’s the pain pathway and how does it work in the nervous system?”

 

Tanya stepped carefully into the alleyway. She should have waited for Dan but she had felt something that didn’t belong in the concrete jungle of the city. She was still a journeyman, not even an acolyte yet, working without a teacher was dangerous, but people had been hurt by things they couldn’t describe and this was what he was training her to do.

The only warning she had was a small huff followed by something furry and dense ramming into her side. Tanya flew through the air and hit the brick wall with her shoulder. “That’s going to bruise something fierce,” she muttered to herself and used the wall to climb back to her feet. In the poor alleyway light she could barely see the outline of a large canine. It growled then launched itself at her again. Not taken completely by surprise this time she spun to the left and reached out to grab the fur on its shoulders, pulling herself onto its back so she was straddling it. The canine shook itself so wildly that any thought of reaching for her knives was dismissed. “Whelp, here goes nothing,” she struggled to dig her hands deeper into its fur while using her legs to keep herself on its back and away from its snapping jaw or sharp claws. The fur was thick, dirty, and matted so that catching even a fingertip against the skin would have been near impossible in the best of circumstances. “Come on!” she grunted in pain as the beast threw itself against the wall, crushing her leg with its heavy body. Her hands began to feel hot as the hair on her arms and head stood on end. The creature’s fur was too tangled to respond readily but it tried, giving her a few millimeters of extra space to work with. A faint ozone smell gathered around them and the air crackled. She felt the leg of her jeans shredding as it was rubbed against the bricks just before she felt the sharp sting of hundreds of jagged edges grate and tear at her skin. She clenched her jaw tight, not now, focus! Finally, her fingers brushed against something more solid than fur and she channeled all the electric energy she could into the canine’s nervous system. It roared once then crumpled.

Tanya fell from its back, rolling several times before finally coming to rest on her back, her breath coming in quick, deep gasps. Muscles twitched and trembled all along her body in response to the left-over static that seemed to jump and sizzle across all her nerves. She felt like she had been hit by a bus. Using that much energy at once shocked her system almost as much as the thing she channeled it into. She closed her eyes to focus on her breathing, bringing it back down to a normal rhythm and calming her heart and her frazzled nerves.

She was still lying on her back when she heard gravel crunching under boots. They stopped right next to her torso and she resisted the urge to open her eyes immediately.

“You look a mess, Tanya. What the hell happened?” A deep, masculine voice asked from six feet above her. She waved in what she assumed was the direction of the still creature, wincing as the movement pulled at her injured shoulder. A silent moment then, “ah. I see.”  Concern touched the edge of his voice, “can you stand?” he asked from much closer to her head. She cracked open one eye. He was kneeling over her, his long face hardly more than shadows in the faint light filtering down the alley. It didn’t take much imagination for her to see the deep lines in forehead or worry in his brown eyes. She sighed before reaching her uninjured arm up for him to grab and help her sit up.

“Hey, Dan, you missed the fun,” she told him. She saw him looking at her leg, and answered the obvious question, “my leg’s a bit torn up.” She twisted to get a better look at the outside of her left leg. She moved her foot around in circles, fascinated by the way the muscles pulled and shifted. It hurt, but no more than her shoulder did. She used her good arm and leg to push herself up. “Right shoulder, left leg, at least I’m even.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” he mused. “Sorry, I lost track of time.” She waved his apology away. They both knew it wouldn’t have mattered much. He was much better at tracking and doing things from a distance, the glass cannon type. She was the tank.

“I left early anyway. Felt that thing nearby and didn’t want to let it get too far.” She gingerly put some of her weight on her left leg, wincing again at the pain, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been even a minute ago. One of the benefits of her talent with the energy that zipped through nerves and muscles was she could turn some of those nerves off and on. Most of it was subconscious, but her control was better now that she was using the ability daily. Small adjustments in the nerve pathways meant she could ignore it. For a time at least.

Dan held out an arm for her to lean on then led her over to the large creature against the wall. “What is it?” She asked. He pulled out a small flashlight and kneeled next to the creature. The light focused on its face. It looked like a dog in general shape, but its snout was much longer and broader than any normal canine. Its fur was a dark gray, mottled with spots of bare skin along its muzzle and side. Everything about it was exaggerated, like a caricature artist had drawn a demon dog and it somehow came to life.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t seen anything like it in real life,” he answered, while she slowly moved closer to it, “or smelled anything like it either.” He covered his mouth and nose with the collar of his shirt.  looked down at her shirt then and noted the dirt and greasy smears ground into the fabric. She brought it close to her face to inspect the damage and began gagging at the strong smell of dirty, greasy, wet dog. Nothing was going to get that out. “Another outfit gone. That’s the fourth one this month.”  

Dan continued to inspect the beast, “it may be of the Wild Hunt… or a pooka?” he mumbled to himself. “What do you know of pookas?” He moved the flashlight so it was focused on her rather than the smelly… pooka. The stains and bloody leg looked worse in the harsh, white light. The thoughtful frown changed to one of concern when he got a better look at the damage to her leg.

“’Tis only a flesh wound,” she joked as he pulled out a roll of gauze and tossed it to her. The gauze wouldn’t do much more than keep additional debris out, but it was better than nothing. Better first aid with ice packs and bandages would come after they finished tonight. She quickly wrapped her leg as best she could, tied a knot in the gauze, then gestured at the creature, “had enough time with the to be able to track it?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” he stood up, stretching and rolling his shoulders. “You sure you want to do this tonight?” he looked at her leg then up to her face. “If your leg-”

“If we wait this thing’s fellows may move off or attack someone else,” She didn’t add that she’d be lucky if she could move at all tomorrow. Her muscles were already complaining and she knew from experience it would only get worse.

“If you’re sure,” he sighed when he saw her nod. He took a deep breath then did something she couldn’t understand. Like her, he could do things most people considered impossible. A faint, purple mist gathered around his body, then with a gesture he directed it toward the dead creature. The mist seemed to sink into the dead pooka for a few heartbeats before it lifted away and stretched out into the night as a narrow ribbon. Dan set out slowly, giving her the opportunity to take the lead and set their pace.  

Using Dan’s tracking mist they followed the route the monster had taken. It avoided main roads, sticking to roads or alleys with few lights and little traffic. After two miles the ribbon started to grow thicker and turn opaque. “I think we found its territory,” Dan whispered. The mist spread out to cover nearly the entire street, a smudge of smoke making the already rundown neighborhood they were in look like a horror movie set. Decrepit buildings and homes were separated by empty lots of land. All the yards were nearly uniform with bare dirt visible between clumps of weeds and detritus that the residents hadn’t bothered to put in the trash. It was an ideal place for things that didn’t belong but still needed to be near a source of food, humans.

Her turn. She took a deep breath before stretching out her senses. Her perspective shifted, as though she was viewing the environment from a few feet above her head in 360 degrees. The new view didn’t provide much more information than what her eyes had already seen, but at least she was less likely to be ambushed this time. Her hearing sharpened so that she could hear not only her heartbeat but also Dan’s and a few dozen small animals. Her mind automatically identified and dismissed irrelevant creatures too small to be another large creature like the pooka. Finally, her other sense, the one that felt for living things lifted away from her skin and slowly expanded in every direction. It confirmed the life she had already heard and dismissed, but just at the edge of what she could feel there was a large clump of things that didn’t fit anything she had encountered before tonight. She tapped Dan on the shoulder then pointed toward the source of energy. He nodded and took the lead as they carefully approached a large shed with broken windows and caving in walls on the far corner of a large plot of land. The house and shed had been abandoned long ago by the feel of the place.

Dan pulled what looked like a grenade from a pouch on the holsters crossing his chest. She gave him a questioning look, “new design,” he mouthed to her before tossing it into the center of the shed. His aim, as always, was spot on. “New design for what?” she whispered. Dan had a bad habit of testing new devices in the field. Sometimes they even worked that first use.

A soft hissing emanated from inside the building shortly followed by snuffling and huffing from several large mammals. The shed began to glow with a soft, ephemeral light, brightest near the center and weaker at the far edges. “Anything I should know before I charge in?” she asked as she pulled two knives from her belt. They were composed of a single piece of steel and veins of pure silver and iron along the length from the butt of the hilt to the tapering edges by way of a talented, magical, and expensive smith. They were worth every dollar. She needed silver and iron because she never knew what she was going to run into and some things from fairy tales were true, steel because there were things in the world even fairy tales couldn’t mention.

“Don’t breathe in the mist. It’s heavier than air so just try to stay on your feet,” he told her as he unslung a long rifle from his shoulder. She nodded sharply then dashed forward to jump through the window closest to them and hope there wasn’t anything sharp or painful for her to land on.

It had taken months of practice to move around without throwing up with her vision split in two.  Running, jumping, leaping, fighting, all that had taken thousands more hours of practice to keep from falling flat on her face. She leaped up, grabbed the top edge of the window frame to swing her legs through and released, controlling her fall. Her sky-view vision shifted inside with her, allowing her to see everything in the room. There were three pookas circling around each other, snarling and snapping in a sloppy drunk sort of way. The largest, seemed the most coordinated and broke off from the other two when she crashed through the window. It locked eyes with her for the barest of seconds before it ran headlong for her.

Tanya pivoted on her right foot, using the injured leg to push off the wall next to her and leap over the creature. She twisted midair while jabbing her knives into the pooka’s skin and channeling a sharp jolt of energy through them and directly into nerves along the its spine. It dropped to the floor with muscles still twitching. Not dead, but that pooka appeared to be down for the moment. Which was good since she was using far more of her energy tonight than she had on any other mission. She pulled her knives from its hide, wiped them on its fur and turned to face the other two. The smallest one dropped with a heavy thud at the same time that the sharp echoing retort of Dan’s rifle reached Tanya’s enhanced ears, making them ring loudly. Another monster was out of the fight. That left her with the last one until he reloaded.

She stalked forward, approaching the drunken pooka straight on, and took her first steps into the mist from Dan’s grenade. The gauze did little to protect the injured left leg from the mist and it began to burn like she had dumped a full bottle of antiseptic on it. The sudden change in pain made her breath hiss through her teeth and her eyes begin watering. I’m gonna punch him. Hard. First, she needed to punch the pooka in front of her.  Tanya closed her eyes to use only her clear, overhead vision which she shifted so that it focused forward on the creature in front of her. She turned her attention to her leg just long enough to turn off most of the pain receptors, she couldn’t afford the distraction. She struck at the pooka. It fell back on its haunches but whether from trying to move away from her or attack she didn’t know. She edged her way to its side, deeper into the painful mist, silvered knives weaved in front of her, as a warning that lunging at her would be painful.  Two more steps into the mist and her left knee gave out without warning, sending her sprawling alongside the pooka, knocking the air from her lungs, and plunging her entirely into the mist. The knife in her left hand skittered away but she had gripped the other tightly. Without thought she lashed out. The knife found flesh and she weakly pushed energy through, hopefully enough to knock the creature out.

Her lungs ached, and he was forced to inhale. Immediately she felt her careful control of her mind break apart, her vision splintered into a thousand pieces, she lost track of what was happening. She was tired. Some small part of her mind told her she couldn’t fall asleep. Something bad would happen. Her thoughts drifted, disjointed. Dan. Dan would have to clean up. He was good at that. She heard another loud retort, distorted as though it was traveling through water, and felt something heavy fall on her already damaged leg. She screamed. Her mind fractured and then she was falling down down down into a black oblivion.

 

The shock of freezing cold brought Tanya out of her unconsciousness. She tried to stand up only to have her legs slip beneath her on a smooth surface. Her head dipped into icy water. A bathtub. She sat up, moving slower this time. Water streamed down her face and neck and sparks jumped along water and her exposed skin while she tried to place where she was. The walls and lighting were familiar. Her bathroom. Her bathtub. Filled with water and ice. She turned to the open doorway knowing she would find Dan nearby. He stood in the hallway with the bottom half of his legs soaked and wearing rubber boots and gloves. Hasty safety measures when dealing with someone who lashed out with electricity, not a bad idea. She glanced down and noted he had tossed her in fully dressed and the water was already turning a distinctly unpleasant shade of gray with swirls of bright red blood near her feet.

“Ice? Really?” She sank deeper into the bath, not bothering to fight the shivering and reveling in the numbing sensation edging its way along her bruised and bruising skin and tense muscles.

“You like ice packs, this seemed more efficient,” he hesitantly stepped toward the doorway, but stopped when she raised her hand, not sure what she was going to do.

“I’m still angry at you,” he merely nodded, expecting that from her, “a little better warning next time?” He shrugged and nodded again. He would remember for a week. Maybe two. They both knew it, but he would try. “Any chance there could be warm towels and PJs after this?” she gestured to the water.  

“As you wish,” he said then laughed when a bar of soap bounced off the door jamb next to his head. The door shut as he moved away from her bathroom and she heard the dryer turn on a minute later. After what seemed like an hour later, but was probably only twenty minutes she was dry, warm, and tending to her leg. A quick glance at a clock told her it was nearly 6am. On Thursday. She had that bio test in four hours. Shit. Dan saw her shoulders slump and took a guess, “Test today?” She nodded sullenly, finishing up with the ace wrap. “You’re young, but you’ll need to choose soon, Tanya. You can’t continue to live two different lives.”

“I know. I just… I don’t know yet, Dan.”

 

Tanya hissed when she felt something connect hard with her leg. Her left leg. Her still shredded left leg. She looked to the side where Diane was glaring at her. “What was that for?” she mouthed silently. “You fell asleep. Again,” she hissed. Tanya just sighed then looked back at her test. She had just started the long answer questions and only had fifteen minutes left. Right. She could do this. What is nociception? Describe its pathway and process using as much detail as possible. She giggled to herself, if there was something she was intimately aware of at this moment, it was the perception of pain. Putting pencil to paper she began to write, the motions of her hand matching time to the throbbing in her leg.

[slimyscrivener]

The Test of Mettle Pt5 Final

A short story based on a dream, various adventurers seek their heart’s desire in an eldritch Test of Mettle. A new adventuring party is formed and the Thief is a bit put out.

Beginning    ~~~   Previous   ~~~~   

Something so big really did not have any business being so stealthy, but the dragon had learned the way of it quickly. It felt there was great store of supernatural powers at its disposal but it was as though being expected to exit middle school and then immediately perform differential calculus. She was especially proud of this achievement, that she had found them.

Unknown to her, they could hear her creeping up the building, dark talons digging into old masonry. Bits of plaster pattering to the alley way below her were the only sounds she left in her wake. Though perhaps, someone close enough could hear a sound like leather as scales shifted over powerful muscles. She peered birdlike into a darkened window at the second floor. The Thief was staring at her, cheek resting in their palm and elbow on the surface of their desk. Blinking, suddenly unsure of what she was intending to do here at all, she tapped the window with one of her horned frills.

With a smirk, and a shake of their head, the Thief stood up and crossed to the window. There was a busy few minutes of massive dragon wings and limbs squirming through an urban window until things settled down. And this was the shape they resolved into.

A dragon, scales a nebulous purple that glittered like flakes of mica, all six of the limbs of its body curled onto the room’s throw rug. A majestic creature of fantastic myth nervously picking at the braided rag rug of a middle of the road inn. It would only be a pygmy dragon that could even fit in the room at all. As it was, the room accommodated her about as well as it might accommodate an especially fit war horse. Provided the horse had a plethora of extra bits that stuck out and occasionally knocked over glasses and chairs.

The thief settled on the room’s double bed, the linen under layer of their armor worn by itself hung loose without the leather to draw it tight. She had never seen the Thief in such casual attire and though it had been some time since the test there were still bandages visible under the worn shirt. And then of course, there was the eye patch.

The dragon spoke first, a low whisper from its barrel chest.

“I’m s-”

“Don’t.” The Thief immediately cut her off, chopping the air with their hand.

An index finger was raised and waggled as though chastising a child.

“Don’t say you’re sorry. Don’t ever say you’re sorry. Don’t be the kind of person that goes around apologizing for things.”

Blinking, the dragon stared at the Thief in bewilderment. She had rehearsed this exchange quite a number of times and had never expected it to go this way. Shifting on the rug, she made a high-pitched noise as an indignant bird might, were the bird made of 400 pounds of muscle and scales.

“Don’t give me that either, we both went there with something we wanted. We fought as hard as we could and you won.”

The dragon was staring at the Thief’s patched eye, the ruined socket underneath out of sight but not out of mind.

“It’s fine.”

She kept staring.

“It’s fine, really.”

She kept st-

“Honestly! I’m working on something much more interesting to stick in there now anyway. It’s not the end of the world, just a setback.”

Slowly, the great lizard laid her snout on the foot of the bed. She watched the Thief miserably, and the Thief looked away to hide the smile that had formed.

This great behemoth, it was just a huge puppy. Or rather, a puppy that suddenly had a mental capacity far outside even most humans. How big her emotions must be, and how new. At least she seems to have gotten used to her body. Being that big and sneaking into the second story of a building without alerting a single soul, it was impressive. The Thief had caught her, of course, it was what they did.

“Anyway, you should be happy...! Look at you now, you’re gorgeous and just… oozing with power. I bet you can even breath fire, right?”

They thought about that and then added, “don’t though, I don’t have the coin to pay for damages.”

Without picking up her head the dragon mumbled in response.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure how to even if I can… I don’t think I can do fire. I only just figured out talking...”

“Maybe steam or lightning?” The Thief said, “or… force? Whatever that looks like. Or light maybe...?”

“Why did you let me win?” Was the murmured reply from the dragon.

The Thief’s eye widened and they raised their hand again, finger pointing.

“Oh no, no no no. I did not ‘let you win’.”

“You’re a dragon.” They only felt mildly silly having to point this out to her. “I’m not going to beat a dragon in bare knuckle fisticuffs no matter how much magical goop I’ve got slushing through me at the time. And most of it was running out by then.”

“I felt you stop-” She struggled with the wording, tail thrashing books off their shelves as she thought.

“I felt you stop resisting.”

Briefly, the Thief thought about saying that the potions of strength had run out at just that moment. But she thought better of it, seeing the dragon staring at her so sincerely. They shrugged.

“It was a strategic retreat.” Seeing the look from the dragon they clarified.

“I accepted that I couldn’t win to avoid greater losses by continuing to fight. You were hopped up on adrenaline and might have killed me if I kept fighting. So, I gave up. I didn’t let you win, you beat me. I just didn’t feel like going through the motions.”

And, they added internally, you were terrified. She had just become the very image of perfection, a new body and a new mind full of possibility and nascent joy. If they had been in that position, the Thief wondered what they would be willing to do. Though, they had also had the briefest time to enjoy their own image of perfection as well; but for as long as they’d waited for it they could stand to wait a little longer. They weren’t getting any older, so there wasn’t any hurry.

Realizing that things had gone silent in the room, outside of the heavy, rumbling breaths of the dragon, the Thief rubbed at their temples.

“So. Where’s wand-up-her-bum? I can’t imagine she’d let you go too far.”

“We’re... taking a break”, hedged the Dragon.

The Thief burst into laughter, swatting at their thigh.

“A break?!” They managed to blurt out.

The Dragon made an anxious noise and shifted her gaze to the corner of the room then said:

“She was-”

A thoughtful pause.

“Upset.”

“I certainly imagine she would be...!” Jeered the Thief, images of the Sorceress squawking and thrashing arms sprouting feathers as quickly as they shed them forming in their mind.

The Thief prepared a thought to follow that question up, but seeing the dragon’s expression they shifted targets.

“Well, maybe you can tell me about that later. It’s pretty late for lazy criminals like myself.”

When she gave them a puzzled look they clarified again, “I’m between jobs so I’m enjoying sleeping normal hours, I mean.”

They stared at each other for several long breaths, clearly the dragon wasn’t really up on the social nuances of ‘you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here’. The Thief cleared their throat and indicated the bed beneath them.

Catching the hint, the Dragon shifted awkwardly, lifting their frilled head.

“Yes, well. I just wanted t-to say I was s-”

She caught the squint from the Thief.

“... sleepy. I’m very sleepy.” She finished lamely.

Feeling that perhaps they ought to throw the great beautiful beast a bone the Thief sighed and stood up from the bed.

“Listen, this isn’t a royal suite or a lair bulging with riches or anything but if you want to stick around for the night feel free. You’re going to have to watch me get into my night clothes though, I still pay for the room. And you don’t look like you’ve got any pockets on you. So I doubt you can chip in.”

The Dragon stood and paced about in a circle several times then curled up on the rag rug that dominated most of the floor. And, as happens in these instances, this meant she now took up a great deal of the floor space.

“So, no different than usual...?” She said, her tail draping over her long head as she settled it onto her paws.

“Well, you talk now so that makes it a little weird.”

The Thief thought about that and said, “but only a little.”

***

It was not altogether enough hours later when there came a sharp rapping at the door. Quietly cursing about dragons and a lack of depth perception, the Thief stumbled out of bed. After a few moments, they cracked their door open, enough to peek out and address the inn’s attendant. A ginger haired young lady gave them a mild look and proffered the tray in her arms.

“Morning service. Hot water and breakfast, 7AM wake up call.”

They nodded, giving the attendant a serious look.

“Yes, thank you, very good.”

A pause, the attendant proffered the tray again.

“Do you want me to bring it in or...?”

“I suppose, but tell me, do you think your morning would be greatly improved by seeing my little purple pygmy dragon, might it?”

The attendant rolled her eyes and puffed out a dismissive, “pfft”.

In response, the Thief nudged the door to swing open and reveal the snoozing dragon curled up on the floor. Without missing a beat, the attendant cracked a wry smile.

“Tch. I’ve seen bigger.” Then she deposited the tray into the Thief’s arms and went down the hallway with the rest of her cart.

Watching her leave the Thief’s expression tightened and they sighed, turning to address the waking dragon.

“She’s going to charge me double occupancy on this room, I just know it.”

They shut the door with the heel of their foot and placed the tray down on the writing desk. Settling down to straddle the chair, chest against the seat back, they addressed their new roommate.

“Alright. So, is this a thing now...?”

They made a gesture, flapping their hand to the dragon and back to themself.

“A thing?” The dragon muzzily responded, “well I guess-”

“No no, if you’re sticking with me then you have to be sure. Is it a thing or not?”

The dragon looked down at their talons, flexed them against the polished floor, then looked up.

“Can I still ride on your shoulders?” She felt a bit embarrassed even as she was saying it.

With a laugh, the Thief poured two cups of coffee from the tray’s carafe, retrieving the mug she’d used the previous night to go with the one newly delivered.

“Hun, I think it might be more appropriate for me to ride YOUR shoulders from now on.”

They passed a mug to the Dragon who accepted it while nodding thoughtfully.

“I think... I think I would really like that, actually.”

Raising the mug to her, a grin on their face, the Thief toasted to the partnership. Their cups clinked together and they drank, the Dragon quaffing more than drinking.

“Good”, the Thief said, “then you can help me pay for the room.”