#this ones got murder in it

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 59 - Plans Within Plans

You deal with a couple of problems.

On AO3.

As y’all don’t got no bear around to announce yourselves, y’all decide stealth is the best option. You start on the peripherals, catch stragglers or small groups here and there. Gale can actually silence a whole room while the others move in and take them out. Astarion is as efficient with his knives as usual.

Y’all find a guy in a cage, lamenting the new cult. Goblins, turns out, have their own god. One this codger (you can’t actually tell his age, but little dude’s talking like an old-timer) refuses to abandon.

Gale lets him out, too.

Eventually, y’all wind up in the main hall at the front, where some goblin version of a biker granny tries to brand you. And then tries to mind-whammy you. So she’s got a parasite. She calls you a “true soul” like them people you fed to the owlbear, and she’s one of them leaders Halsin mentioned, so you suggest y’all talk in private and she goes right along with you.

You barely get the door shut when Lae’zel skewers her. Literally. Sword punches clear through her back, out her front as she gasps, and then Lae’zel kind of flicks the blade. And biker granny falls to the ground in pieces.

“Jesus,” you say.

“We waste our time,” she says.

Biker Granny has a bedroom with another ogress in it (you wonder if it’s the same one hooking up with Man-Wolf, but she don’t seem to recognize you when she spots y’all). The fight is short but mean, and as y’all are looting around, Karlach busts down a door that opens to a spooky hallway. Which leads to an inner temple that puts a sneer on Shadowheart’s face.

“Not a fan of this goddess?” you say, looking up at a statue of a woman in some ancient robe ensemble.

“Selune,” Shadowheart says like a curse. A moon goddess or something. Shadowheart calls her followers hypocrites and a few other choice insults.

Huh. You notice Gale eyeballing her all speculative, but he don’t say nothing.

And then Karlach finds and presses a button that opens a wall. Faerun really, really likes the whole “secret hallway behind a fake door” bullshit.

Below is a fuck off chasm with a ladder disappearing into the gloom.

“Hell no,” you say.

But Gale surprises you by offering to float himself down—y’all watch until he’s swallowed by the gloom—and then fly himself back up. “It’s a Selunite outpost extending into what I heavily suspect is the Underdark.”

You zone out a little. It ain’t murdering the two other ringleaders, and it ain’t getting the worm outta your head, and it ain’t fixing whatever inter personal fuckshit is going on between you and…and everyone and each other.

You ain’t sure how to deal with the other two leaders. One is their general—something called a drow, and the others looks real grim about that—and the other guy is holding a fucking pep rally with another dozen goblins in a room around a dead squidward.

“Fuck,” you say.

Which is when you catch the words “spark powder barrels” and “enough to light the whole place up.” You turn. Find two goblins chatting in the corner.

“What’s this about barrels?” you say.

***

The thing about modern Earth warfare is that people got real, real good at killing other people from a distance. Sometimes even killing people who ain’t in the same room, or continent, as you. Faerun ain’t primitive—that word is loaded with all kinds of racist undertones anyway—but they’re still more used to killing with blades and arrows and spells.

Y’all find a way into the bomb room through Biker Granny’s quarters. You give her cooling body a wide berth.

You and Astarion have been ignoring each other since he chose the lookout option, and he now stands at the edge of the group, cleaning his knives. But you seen him sneak, and you seen him climb, and he’s the best man for the idea brewing in your brain.

And maybe he’ll take it as an olive branch?

(You got nothing to apologize for in snapping at him about Rack Guy. You stood up for yourself, and for Rack Guy. Anybody who’s got a problem with that is the problem.)

“Astarion,” you say.

And he ignores you like a petty bitch. So that’s going great.

Losing your shit ain’t never accomplished nothing. So you reign yourself in, walk over to him, and stop right in front of him. You try to keep your body relaxed and your tone professional. “Astarion.”

He deigns to look up. Give you a smile. “Ah, our illustrious leader. What may I do for you now?”

Murder or lockpicks. His only contributions.

Your righteous huff deflates just a little. That part was uncalled for. Breaking people down to what they can be used for is fucked up farmstead shit.

You really look at him, the minute hunch to his shoulders, the flat eyes, the tiny tilt of his head. He’s a bitch, but that don’t mean you have to be.

Fuck. Damn.

Well, no time like the present. You breathe deep and slow.

“I’m sorry,” you say, trying to ignore the others around you. “About what I said earlier. You’re a lot more than I gave you credit for, and it was outta line for me to suggest otherwise. It won’t happen again.”

Y’all might not be friends, but he’s still a member of the group, and you’d feel like a giant fuckhead going around and making bad feelings.

But…he just stands there for half a second. His face does something complicated—a frown, confusion, narrowed eyes—before settling back on his usual, fake smile.

“Ah, for that, I can only assume you require something outside of my usual repertoire?” he says.

Which…how the fuck does the dirt potion translate something into French??

And ouch. He really took that insult to heart, huh? Fuck.

You close your eyes. “I deserve that. Yes, I’m gonna ask you to do something. And leaving that guy was a dickhead move. But I really am sorry for, for implying that you’re only your talents. Which you have more than two, and that was me being a jackass. But I’m sorry, and you deserve to know it.”

Again, that careful blankness. It only lifts when you show him your baby bird of a plan, all small and ugly and shaking around in the mental nest. He snorts like he can’t help it, and for just a split second, something genuine skirts along the edge of his smirk.

“You’re forming a pattern, darling,” he says.

“If it works, don’t break it,” you say. “It’s how the empire back home deals with everybody.”

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned something like that,” Gale says. “When this is over, you and I desperately need to have another sit down chat.”

So you can spill U.S. military tactics you learned from the internet to a wizard. Why not.

“And if I run into anyone else skulking about?” Astarion says.

You want to sigh, but don’t. “Still hungry?”

“Always, darling.”

“I guess as long as you ain’t dropping bodies outta the rafters…”

The man lights the fuck up, a kid handed a hundred dollars and let loose in a candy store. He scuttles up the closest ladder with what you can only describe as sheer glee.

“Turning a vampire loose in a den of goblins,” Shadowheart says. “I’m not sure which part is worse. Do you think he can drink himself into a stupor?”

“He got pretty sloshed the night when soldier here stuck her soul in a jar,” Karlach says. Catches your silent question. “While you went wherever it is you went to, old Fangs came back drenched in blood. Looked like he got in a fight with a bear. He couldn’t even stand straight. Then he saw you, well, dead, and he stormed off. Tripped over a root, too, which I only noticed cause he don’t normally do stuff like that.”

…huh. Okay?

Well, he seems to revel in your ideas (when they involve murder or being a shithead). He stopped when you told him to. He was an absolute bastard about it, and he later tried again. But when you told him no, he fucked off (which hurt, you’re beginning to realize, because you apparently have the emotional intelligence of a potato. It actually hurt).

“I think I trust him,” you say, looking up to where he disappeared. “With this stuff, anyway.”

***

Astarion returns with good tidings. There’s a path along the rafters right over to Door Rags and his pep rally. Gale has enough juice to help float up the barrels Lae’zel and Shadowheart can’t hoist up (Karlach looks on like a dog told to sit while you throw a ball). It takes a bit to get everything where you want, but y’all manage it.

You have to step over three dead goblins stuffed into a corner. Astarion catches your gaze and gives you a proud tilt of his chin.

See? it seems to say. Not raining down bodies.

You give him a thumbs up.

Then you sneak off with Wyll to a wall ledge overlooking the rally room. Spot another room off to the side with some magic, floating crystal ball.

“A watcher,” Wyll says. Up close, he smells of mint and some kinda herb—you ain’t sure if it’s soap, perfume, or something he uses in his hair. “Someone is keeping an eye on all this. We’ll want to take that out before any fighting starts. Blind whoever’s controlling it.”

“Can you do that?”

He gives you a warm smile. “The blade will strike true.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, too. Then you catch voices, and inch further out onto the ledge. Across a wooden bridge, somebody moves. A woman in armor. An elf? Only she’s purple with a shock of white hair.

“The drow,” Wyll whispers, sinking into a crouch next to you. “She’ll likely be a powerful fighter. They’re known for their strength in battle. They kill any of their own who show what they consider a weakness. Which generally amounts to being kind or merciful.”

Because that worked so well for the Spartans.

Wyll must catch a look from you. You say, “I’ll tell you later. It’s stupid and impractical, and usually ends with a couple of people slapfighting each other for status while their nation can’t support itself anymore and collapses.”

And another idea blooms in your head. Which you share with him.

He considers a moment. Nods slowly. “Alright, it seems a sound strategy. I’m beginning to see a pattern with you.”

Which, what the fuck does that even mean?

But y’all need to move. The longer y’all camp out up here, the more likely somebody gets spotted. You both sneak back to join the others.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[gibbearish]

love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking

[van1lla-cake]

drew some drones that do the murder

the full lineup:

[egophiliac]

don't think I'm not still obsessing over 7-12

[umblrspectrum]

i hate perspective. happy new years also

[kyoukorpse]

Here's a proper ref of my goat Jakub >:) still so grateful that the goat was added as a playable option its like he was made for me.

He's a scoundrel and acts before thinking 95% of the time. Let him come over to your side to do normal things like drive you up the wall in knucklebones by eating all ur die and running around your cult kissing your spouses.

His playlist <<

[peanutseagle]

bro will master art just for her

[regonold]

Danny x ra's but their a fresh from a nasty breakup and danny is just going through the breakup motions watch your favourites eat ice cream cry all that jazz but in gotham why?

Because i want the bat's to come across this guy crying on a roof eat ice cream and comforing him trying to get him off the roof and when they ask what his boyfriends name is he juat says ra's fucking al ghul

"It's not fair" he whines "why are tge hot ones always the leaders of some murder cult"

I just want the bat's trying to wrap their head around the fact that this twink was sumhow dating ra's and presumably dumped him because he was the head of a murder cult and HOW IS HE STILL ALIVE

[finedinereception]

“lilith got charlie in the divorce” “lucifer got charlie in the divorce” actually alastor got her

[wardingshout]

Zelda goes mushroom girl

[on-the-clear-blue]

So yall know that the League of Assassin's are like, an eco terrorist thing right? Well I just had this idea.

Sam, coming into Danny's room and just face planting on his bed: Ugh...

Danny, who was sleeping, awoken as his friend who had gone missing 6 moths ago flopped onto of him: OH SWEET-NOCTURN IF THIS ISNT REAL I AM GONING TO SOUP YOY SO HARD...

Sam, reaching up and slapping her hand on his mouth:Shhh, less screaming, more sleeping, escaping murder cults takes more energy than I thought.

Sam produces to pass out and sleep for three days straight.

---

Tucker, lookingnup from his PDA: so...you joined what you thought was a peaceful protest and some how ended up in a eco terrorist death cult of assassins? I mean...shit now I have to do something interesting...

Danny, choking on his drink: Nuh uh, your the normal one Tuck, I died and now have a magical girl transformation and Sam got kidnapped by ninjas and somehow even more bad ass, you...you can still get out of this and just be a normal person.

Sam, nodding sadly: Yeah...don't conform to our standards Tucker, be your true, weak little boney self.

Tucker, sniffing:I am so going to not do that.

---

Just the idea that Sam not only got League training but also got out is hilarious to me, like yeah, that is the kinda bs that would happen.

Alsoni can just see her dropping random lore shit.

Sam, bored as the boys study: Did you know thst the Demon Head dunks himself in corrupted ecto? Yeah it's gnarly man, didn't taste good.

Danny, going to speak before pausing and thinking, before sighing:Yeah I would have licked it too.

Tucker, frowning as he finishes his "Evil invention-enator": You both have so many issues.

---

Sam, trying to teach Danny the basic league hand to hand:Come on dude! It's not that hard!

Danny, falling flat on his ass after not even touching Sam: Ow ow ow...fuck yeah it kinda is!

Sam, rolling her eyes: If not only the Demon Heads six year old grandson can learn but also Ellie? You can too.

Danny, mutterinf under his breath before pausing completely:ELLIE? What was she doing with a murder cult? I thought she learnt her lesson after the last one!

Sam, shrugging before putting kicking at Danny on the floor: I don't know she was following a guy around who was catatonic, said something about being angry at him for not answering her pen pal messages or whatever, I was more busy training to really care...like you should be doing!

---

Years later Sam is joining Danny and Tucker in Gotham, Tucker because he was scouted by both WE and Lexcorp, he wanted to choose the evil company because poorer work place regulations and the likely hood of him getting a powerbost was much higher, but was bullied by his friends/partners into choosing WE.

Sam, coming to the R&D labs late one night bringing Tucker dinner so he doesn't starve working a late shift, blinking as she sees a short boy sneaking out of the lab: Biraeam? (Sprout in Arabic) what are you doing here.

Damian, blinking right back, experimental tech Bruce has yet to clear for the field clutched under one arm and the blueprints for a new type of explosive batarang in the other: Manson...I-I could ask you the same.

Sam, raising an eyebrow and staring down Damian: bringing dinner to my husband...who works here...and I can only think that you do not. So I ask that you put those things you have down and tell your bastard of a grandfather not to step back in this place.

Damian, eyes squinting, he hadn't been around his grandfather for ages at this point but still felt offended at her tone: I don't think I will.

---

An epic fight produces where they both try not and spill/destroy the things that they are carrying until either Tucker or Tim find them and explain everything.

The everlasting Trio gets invited over for dinner (mostly because Bruce is a paranoid bastard and dislikes thst one of his employees is dateing/ is partners with an ex-LoA member) and it's a bit of just pointing at each other and shit

Sam, slamming her hands down on the table as she stands: Kindly Mr Wanye, Shut the fuck up, I know your batman, we all fucking know it so if you are going to try and interrogate us at least do it properly!

Danny, sipping his wine: I mean...I-I didn't know but I um...haven't been paying much attention to the bat dude...Rag man is cooler.

Sam, glaring:And you! Fucking Ragman? You can do so much better.

Danny, offended for his hero: Oi! He does good work!

Bruce, frowning as this night has gotten away from him: He kills people.

Sam, waving over at Bruce: Exactly!

Danny, rolling his eyes: Exactly she says, while having a kill count that's still growing, Exactly she says when she was the one that pushed that oil tycoon off the 50th floor.

Sam wincing,: Maybe not in front of batman babe?

Danny, looking over to Bruce that is looking ready to fight: Shit...imma call Tuck and tell him to start packing...

[demaparbat-hp]

Oh, Aang, you're really in it now...

This is Zu—I mean, Jian Li and Katara's second meeting in the Kyoshi Warriors AU. The first proper one, anyway.

Once they get through a minor difference of opinion or two (“I can carry my own basket!” “Never said you—” “I'm not weak!” “I didn't—” “Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean—” “Would you listen for once, woman?!” ) they'll become nearly inseparable.

For now Jian Li will carry Katara's basket all the way to the Kyoshi Warriors' dojo and, once there, they'll mercilessly tease Sokka when they see him in uniform.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

demanding a series in the same vein (heh, vein) as Dexter/Hannibal wherein a prolific serial killer plays cat & mouse with the police--except the serial killer in question is a preteen schoolgirl. this would make for compelling television due to the fact that middle school frequently causes girls to become deranged, and more media should reflect this

[thebadguyswinhere]

Reminder this is canon

I can totally see Tails trying to bring Stone to the good side

[zu-is-here]

The Frog Princess ✧ Your Culture Day

Dream & Nightmare by jokublog

Cross from xtaleunderverse by jakei95

[umblrspectrum]

how do lighting and shading work