#snaggletooth child | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darklydeliciousdesires · 3 months

Text

London Will Burn - Chapter Ten.

Sorry it's a day late, bambinos! Normal posting schedule will resume as of Friday. I wanted to give everyone the chance to catch up since I posted last week's instalment late, too.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 4,000

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.

Absorbing the shock, it was all Sean could do not to storm over to where Rin and her family were gathered and demand she give him answers. It added up, undoubted was the maths in the equation that the child with eyes that exactly matched his own, who would have been about six, meaning she’d been conceived on that weekend he’d spent with her, was in fact his daughter. It fitted. It explained why she’d vanished.

Why the fuck had she kept it from him?

Why the fuck did she still continue to keep it from him?

He knew why, but his anger got in the way of logic. The only thing to penetrate it was the sudden feeling of a wet nose at his fingertips, followed by a familiar miffed grunt. Looking down, he saw Butch, ball in mouth, ready for it to be thrown once more.

As the rage in him subsided, a myriad of emotions began to swirl, taking the ball and throwing it once more, finally tearing his eyes away from the child, dressed in her school uniform beneath a thick, winter coat. His child. He dropped his head and sped up while walking past where they were congregated, hoping the distance from one side of the path over to the small playground area meant he wouldn’t be seen.

That did not mean, however, that this would be something he’d easily let go of. Rin would feel every ounce of his ire, once she’d actually confirmed to him if the child was definitely his.

Setting off over the grass to meet his dog en route back, he took the ball and clipped Butch back onto his lead, being greeted by a look of indignance that playtime was seemingly over. “I am certain that fucking tooth of yours sticks out even further when you’re pissed off.” he spoke, reaching to scratch his forehead wrinkles. “If I sported a snaggletooth, mine probably would be right now, too.”

He took the long walk back to his car, loading Butch in the rear and clipping his seatbelt fastener onto the back of his harness, the dog lying down with a soft snort. The comfy ride of the Audi Q5 meant he was asleep ten minutes into the journey home, only stirring when half an hour after that, the car pulled up in the parking garage back in Canary Wharf.

For the duration of the drive, he’d mulled over how to handle the sight he’d been presented with at the park, wanting to actually make the right choice for once. Good choices and Sean Wallace didn’t always go hand in hand. In fact, more often than not, his impulsive nature dictated that they were the furthest from good.

“Catherine, I need to speak with you. Would you be free for lunch on Friday?”

Civil, to the point, adult like. He was proud of himself. While waiting on a reply, he took a shower, sorting Butch his food before ordering the usual Thai delicacies to satiate his own hunger.

“I’m busy.”

“Next Monday, perhaps?”

“Busy then, too.”

“Any fucking time before Easter, Catherine?” Trust Sean to not take her rebuffing well.

“Can you not just call me to have this discussion?”

“No. It must be face to face.”

It was while he was mid-way through eating a Thai red curry when she finally replied. “I’ll check my diary when I have a moment and get back to you.”

He waited a week for her to do this alleged diary consulting, hearing nothing. The proverbial bull appeared to need taking by the horns, it would seem.

The gates to Mulford Hall’s private driveway still required a check in with security, but the large, middle-aged man who had sat within the small booth the last time Sean had pulled up beside it was now replace by another. A large, Kenyan other, to be exact.

“And you are?” he rumbled, lifting his chin.

“Sean Wallace, here to see Miss Cavanagh.”

The man reached for the telephone, eyes flitting over Sean. “I’ll be the judge of that.” Pressing a button, he waited, leaning back while letting his fingers skim over the semi-automatic holstered at his hip, dark eyes returning to Sean for a second and narrowing. “Boss, hello. I got a Sean Wallace here to see you.”

There was a pause. “She say you must wait for her call and to go home.”

“Tell her that unless she lets me up, I shall start making noise over the identity of her child’s father. Loud noise.”

Marcus relayed the message with a huff, waiting. “Okay, you may go up.”

He smirked, shifting the car into drive as the gates began to slowly open. “I thought she might say that.” Driving through, he reminded himself over and over to keep calm, that losing his temper was the last thing he should resort to, that no matter how enraged he was, calmness was the more conducive approach.

Pulling into the courtyard, he saw Rin exit the house and stride over to the car. The defiance she carried herself with immediately sent his irritation up by a few notches.

“I think we need to talk,” he began, getting out and shutting the door with a heavy clunk, turning to face her. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“How did you even find out?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes. “Who the hell told you?”

“Nobody, I saw you both in the park just over a week ago. She looked right at me, and it was my eyes I saw. Doing the calculations over her age, and it points a very definite finger to the fact that I’m her father. If I hadn’t, your lack of a poker face and need to discover if you’ve been betrayed just sealed it nicely for me.”

The sneer in his tone set her on edge, Rin wanting nothing more than to punch him in the face for it. For much more, in fact. Her nostrils flared in annoyance, Sean continuing. “Now, why didn’t you tell me?”

She shrugged, sniffing. “It was none of your business back then.”

His lips tightened, his shoulders squaring. “I fathered your child, that makes it very much my business.”

“Not when you were set to sell out her mother’s dignity for a business deal. Honestly, do you truly think I wanted a man like that near her at the time? Can you honestly blame me for keeping it from you?”

“Yes, I fucking can, because she’s my fucking daughter and I had a right to see her, to know her!” There went his cool, flying far from any tentative grasp.

Her features twisted, fury beginning to pulse. “You had no right at all, Sean! Not after what you did to me!”

“I had to, Catherine. By the end of that weekend, I didn’t want to, but I had to, because...”

“Because if you hadn’t, you’d have lost the capitol you needed to buy a new location to launder through, and the safe port for the fuck load of heroin that needed an alternative dock to port in. Yeah, I know why you had to. You could have just let me talk to him, you know. I’d have convinced him, but no.” Her eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening. “You fucked me over because you wanted to. Get off on it, did you? Taking advantage of an eighteen-year-old, hmm?”

“Don’t give me that shit,” he spat angrily, cracking his knuckles in agitation. “You were far from naive. You were raised by a man just as cutthroat as the one whom raised me.”

Swallowing down her desire to match his anger, she took a breath, sniffing as she thinned her lips between her teeth. “My heart was.” Pausing, she saw it in his face, the very thing she was looking for, but had no real care over whether she received or not. Remorse. It was a few too many years late in the coming. “I suppose I should thank you really, for the lesson you taught me, one that I will pass onto my daughter when she’s older, too. Never let your emotions be swayed by a man who shows all the hallmarks of such deeply entrenched psychopathy.”

He looked accepting of her assessment, shame seeming to veil him as he looked down upon her, sighing sadly. “I am truly sorry for what I did to you. I am. It was a mistake that I haven’t ever not regretted.” He paused for a moment, in her silence of absorbing his apology. “She’s the reason, isn’t she? The other reason you returned me to my former status, the one you said I didn’t deserve to know, back when I first saw you again three months ago.”

“That’s correct,” she confirmed, “but on my terms. I want my daughter to know her father, but most certainly not the man who I watched you become from afar. God fucking knows, I’m probably bordering on mental myself, but I thought maybe, if I could sort you out in the midst of ironing out the fucking mess you and half the other fuckwits left London in, then maybe the old Sean might return. The Sean you might still be capable of being.”

He felt his chest tighten in an instant, that no matter how badly he’d hurt her, hurt himself, pulled apart the threads of his own life, she still had hope he could redeem himself. “Perhaps if I’d known about her, that might have come sooner. My priorities have always been centred around the health of my family. Surely you knew that?”

“I didn’t know what the fuck I knew about you, after that weekend, and then you turning on me!”

“I told you I didn’t want to.”

“But you did!” Her temper flared beyond her need or desire to control it, her jaw flexing as she ground her back teeth together, her fury literally biting. “You hurt me, Sean! I let you in, more than I ever had with actual boyfriends, and you fucking hurt me worse than anybody ever has! We could have been something, but you just threw it all the fuck away, didn’t you?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned away from her for a second. “I did. There isn’t a day that passes where I don’t regret that, either.”

“Why?” she scoffed, folding her arms. “It got you everything you wanted.”

He reached for her, thumb skimming her cheek. “And lost me something I truly needed.”

She felt her heart quicken, enjoying the comfort of his touch for a mere second before knocking his hand away. “Don’t. No. I’m off the table forever to you. Her? Maybe, if you continue to behave yourself.”

He nodded. “Do I at least get to know her name?”

“Tiger Lily.” Her favourite flower, he remembered. “We just call her Tiger for short mostly. Believe me, it suits her personality.”

He smiled at that, imagining her to be tiny and mighty, much like her mother. “When can I see her, Rin? I want to be there for her, provide for her. I have lost so much in the way of family, and the life I am attempting to rebuild very much has a place for her within it.”

His earnest softness stirred her, hearing his pledge to be involved in his daughter’s life, but not enough that she’d ease up on him. “When I see fit, and not a moment before.”

Indignance at being rebuffed rose within him, but he knew the more he demanded, the further she would dig her heels in. His continued commitment to not making bad choices borne of his impulsive nature had to be applied here, too. “Okay. I shall await you getting in contact, then.”

He turned to his car, Rin beginning to twitch in discomfort, resting her weight from foot to foot a couple of times as she swung her arms down from folded. “Sean?” He turned back, eyebrows slightly raised. “St James Park, 2pm next Sunday. We’ll meet you by the playground. You’re just my friend, though. You shan’t be revealed as her father until I decide.”

His mouth flickered, upturning. “Thank you.”

She had to give him something, she realised, no matter how much the scar tissue from his burns still ached within her chest. Since her reinstating him three months prior, he’d been flawless, utterly faultless in the way he had resurrected both himself and the Wallace Corporation. He deserved something, although as she walked back into the house, she wasn’t sure whether her lenience had been too swiftly delivered.

“I heard most of that from the window.” Her mother’s tone told a thousand more words than she actually spoke.

Rin sighed, moving to the fridge and pouring a vodka, feeling the weight of Sokoro’s hand press supportively to her shoulder. She paused, covering it with her own for a moment, leaning into his wide chest. “You handled it well, boss. I leave you with your mother now, it is not my place to be in a family talk.”

She smiled thinly, the Kenyan giant leaving the kitchen, Rin wishing he’d have stayed. “I take it you’re about to detail that I was wrong for allowing him to see her?”

“I’ll flippin’ say you were!” she began, one of the stools at the island being pulled out rapidly, the legs scraping across the floor. “Pour me a drink, too. I need it after that. You should have stuck to your guns and made him work for it a little harder. Then again you were never very competent in making that man work for anything, were you?”

A better relationship they might have had, but Diane still had her predisposition for making snide remarks. The point she was making was not lost upon Rin at all, who viewed her with incredulity as she turned with the vodka bottle, slamming the fridge shut as she paced to the cupboard containing the glasses. “I had sex with him, mum. Deal with it. I’m not as precious as you over the act of pleasure, and I never have been.”

“You might have avoided this whole fiasco if you were.”

Oh, she just couldn’t help herself. “And if I had, I wouldn’t have Tiger. I wouldn’t trade the outcome of me being careless over contraception for anything. Not even a better outcome. And to Sean’s credit, in the last few months he’s worked his arse off. The Wallace Corporation is in the process of three new builds, two more in the works. We’ve expanded construction to Birmingham and Manchester, too. For twelve weeks, that’s good going.”

“You’re going soft. I knew you would, as soon as you saw him again.”

Her grip upon the Stolichnaya bottle tightened, her lips pursing. “I have not gone soft. I want Tiger to know her father, and so far, he’s done a good job of proving himself to be capable of being just that; her father. Me? As you probably overheard, I am not a part of it. This was always my intention, mum. I want her to know him.”

Diane was nothing if not persistent in her stance. “But so soon? You really should have made him suffer for longer.”

Pouring the drinks, Rin returned the bottle to the fridge, adding ice and pushing a glass across the counter to her mother. “Just because I am allowing him limited access to his daughter does not mean I am softening. It is still my proverbial boot upon his neck, still my line he toes, still my weight he operates beneath. He shan’t ever forget that either.”

Diane sniffed, raising both her eyebrows and glass. “Just as long as he never does, Catherine.” She departed the kitchen, leaving Rin standing there for a second before the weight of it all bore down, flopping onto the shiny, lemon disinfectant-scented marble with a sigh. The next weight she felt was of two warm hands grasping her shoulders, kneading softly.

“Am I being too soft, Sok? Is she right, or is she being a huge shit bag?” She didn’t think her right hand would have moved too far away.

“Hey, hey,” he chided softly, pulling her up to stand straight, “she is still your mother, eh?”

She sighed. “I know, but is she?”

“You know as well as my boss, you are my close friend too, eh?”

She smiled. “I do.”

“And you know I always tell you how it is, yes?”

“Yes.”

“You could have made white man squirm for a little longer, eh, but I understand why you did not. You know how it is to be without a father, and you do not want that for little Tiger. You do this for her, I see. Not for him.”

At least Sokoro understood where she was coming from. “Thank you, for seeing things how they are.”

His eyes narrowed a tiny fraction, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “Maybe a little for him, no?”

“No.”

“Sure?”

She avoided his dark eyes, taking a gulp of the chilled, neat vodka. “Definitely not.”

He had the respect to leave it there, but he knew. “Do you want me to come with you to this meet, eh?”

“Yes. Wait in the car for us though, so you’re nearby but not looming over us.”

He nodded. “Understood, boss. Now, my stomach is rumbling, eh! Where is the chef? I would like to be fed now, yes.”

He was getting very used to a life with people to do things for him, her dear Sokoro. Back at home, he happily pitched in to assist (or hamper) Anna, his wife of nine years, a German backpacker who had arrived in Kenya and then never left after meeting him. They lived in a house upon the reserve, Anna’s background in zoology meaning she was a perfect choice to work with the animals there, working her way up to managing the breeding program. She had called only five hours ago to joyfully inform Rin that the four pregnant lionesses had all birthed a healthy litter of cubs the night before.

Stretching her arms out to ease the residual tension of the last twenty minutes, Rin walked to the phone, calling for Roger to come down and begin preparing their dinner. After eating a delicious meal of griddled salmon and vegetables (and chicken for Tiger, who couldn’t stand that particular fish) she saw to bathing and dressing her daughter ready for bed, heading back downstairs to her office.

It had once been her father’s, the space now drastically changed from how it had looked before. She had intended to keep it exactly how it was, but it proved much too painful, to see such reminders of him everywhere. The solid oak and dark red walls had been replaced for pastel green, bird and floral print wallpaper, and white and light oak furniture, giving the space an airy feel.

Her father often liked to intimidate with decoration, the oppressiveness of the office very much in keeping with his personality. She used to coin it the belly of the dragon for good reason.

Taking a seat at her desk, she jiggled the mouse until her computer came out of standby, ready to continue organising her current project. She was arranging a charity dinner in aid of her wildlife reserve, one of those very fancy, three hundred pounds a head affairs in aid of raising money for the African wildlife she now solely presided over, despite no longer living out in Africa.

Of course, with Rin, there was another goal. The funds derived from the night’s hopefully generous contributions from London’s elite would be matched with injections of cash needing to be laundered. It made sense, since the CWR (Cavanagh Wildlife Reserve) was a charity, for all intents and purposes. The deals she was in the process of making with people in South America needed a fund to be run through, her reserve being the chosen destination.

After completing the guest list of a total of two hundred and seventy-three people, she sent the details to the printing firm to send out invitations, knowing most of her associates were such old school types, a well-appointed, neatly printed invitation arriving by post would be more appreciated than the more modern method of an e-invite.

Once done, she poured herself another drink, sitting back and resting her bare feet up on the desk, getting a small pang of annoyance when remembering her mother’s earlier words. “Then again you were never very competent in making that man work for anything, were you?”

“Slut shaming. So very you, mother darling.” Oh, how she’d really, really come down hard on her at the time, Rin remembered, when she’d revealed the news of her pregnancy to her and her father. They both had, Rin not knowing which way to turn, having her usually on side, protective father roaring in utter outrage at how she could be so stupid.

“You fucking open your legs to that scumbag in the first place, and then don’t have any bloody sense to use protection? Fucking hell, Catherine! I thought we raised you with more brains than that, girl, I really did!”

They had, too. In the midst of dealing with the heartbreak of his betrayal, obtaining the morning after pill had been the farthest thing from her mind. So far, in fact, that it wasn’t until her period didn’t arrive that it smacked her square in the chest, what she had forgotten to do in the aftermath of a weekend being shagged ragged by the man of her dreams.

Remembering it, him, the way his skin felt against hers, the heat of their connection, the fact that she hadn’t ever, or since felt a dick as perfect as his, she let herself be transported back to each moment he’d ever been inside her, just for a few seconds. God, the way that man fucked. He was unlike all others, and she hated him for it.

Coming back out from where her daydream had led her, she tried to shake the thoughts of Sean from her mind, but they clung on. Sleeping in his arms, chasing him around the house with a bow and arrow as they’d laughed. She’d never heard him laugh like that, and it made her chest flutter still.

“Bastard.”

Switching off her computer, she tidied her desk, finishing her drink. She’d be up at five in the morning to go for her usual six-mile run, Rin loathing any form of gymnasium-based exercise, but loving to pound her feet to the terrain in order to stay in shape. An early night was definitely in order.

Her childhood bedroom was still her destination, although changed in decoration from pale yellow to a pastel blue, the furniture remaining the same but furnishings a little more befitting of a grown woman. After cleansing her face and brushing her teeth, she crawled beneath the duvet, closing her eyes. Falling into dreams, she was eighteen again, her bed occupied by the man whom she’d tried in vain to cease thinking about, lying with her head on his chest as they’d talked. Well, talked, and...

“You’re going to make it fall off, you know,” he’d told her, eyeing his cock after she’d begun playing with it again.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she’d purred, moving to sit astride him, kissing the centre of his chest. “It isn’t going anywhere, other than back inside me. I think I make it very happy.”

The way he’d looked at her, pulling her into a kiss, his gaze had told her strongly that it wasn’t just his cock that she made happy.

Waking with a start, she grumbled with agitation.

“Get out of my head, you fucking twat.”

It had been seven years. If he hadn’t left it by then, then much to her indignation, she had to admit he likely never would.

#sean wallace fanfiction #sean wallace smut #gangs of london fanfiction #gangs of london #sean wallace x ofc #sean wallace fanfic #sean wallace fic #joe cole #london will burn #sean and rin #gangs of london fanfic #gangs of london fic

20 notes · View notes

danggirlronpa · 2 months

Note

6, 7 and 23 of the Danganronpa asks.

6. Do you have a fan character? Tell us about them!

I...DO.............the concept is that she's class 78th's (Makoto's class) homeroom teacher. Like Chisa, she wants to encourage the class to engage in their lives as high schoolers, but unlike Chisa, she is less Nurturing Caretaker and more Serious Professor. She's the Ultimate Prosecutor, and she structures her class as a round circle debate club. The only time she softens up is when around bunnies.

The idea is that it's a ton of little stuff that can be picked apart as reasons for stuff that's unexplained later - why Junko picked the trial system (replacing fond memories of faux class trials with the despair of the true class trials), why Usami is designed as a bunny (though her personality was taken more from Chisa), etc. - so there's a lot of retroactive foreshadowing, but also a guise through which to see the THH embrace each other and grow as people. Ultimately she's more of a catalyst and perspective character than she is a person with her own arc, because I would love to explain the pregame students one day and the depth of the tragedy that is their lost memories. But Not Today. Maybe I'll draw her one day, too!

7. You get the chance to reassign five characters new talents. Who do you choose, and which new talents do they get?

YES. YESSSS.

Mukuro: Ultimate Mercenary. The wording on this just pisses me off. She was part of a mercenary company. Come on.

Akane: Ultimate Parkour Artist. Another one that just pisses me off. She calls it parkour.

Byakuya: Ultimate Butler. This is the first one where we're going off the rails a bit. Listen. I would hate Byakuya no matter what. That's just how he and I are. Destined mortal enemies. But I would hate him slightly less if his nonsense asshole snobbiness was because he served the rich instead of because he is rich. At least then I could justify it as internalized class politics. Instead of just being. Some rich guy.

Nekomaru: Ultimate Nurse. I couldn't tell you why, but "team manager" always struck me as a really weird, out-of-place talent. But between his knowledge of the body (he can do...It) and his experience as a child in the hospital, I think Nekomaru would be a great nurse!!

Tenko: Ultimate Aikido Master. You'll notice this is not a different name. But it IS a different talent. Because it's just regular aikido. Why did they decide Tenko would have her own fake aikido that wasn't as good. That was so weird. Just let her do aikido.

23. Which are your top three favorite beta designs?

I don't look at the beta designs too often, but these are the ones that stick out to me!

The Sakura art always stood out to me - though I understand why they didn't do it, considering the colorist implications becoming Even Worse. The Fuyuhiko concept art stood out to me in a different way. Look at how stupid that guy looks. Look at that chin. What a man.

I don't actually really like any of Tenko's designs, though I do like this one better than her final one. The most important part is the little snaggletooth on the right. I LOVE that. I LOVE snaggletooth Tenko. I'm obsessed with it.

#asks #multishipper-baby #talk to the mod #mod hangout #not dangan girls #headcanons #sakura ogami #tenko chabashira #mukuro ikusaba #akane owari

12 notes · View notes

blazingstaro · 1 year

Text

DotS: Knights of the Stars file #03 — Sir Galacta Knight

Name: Sir Galacta Asteri of the Stars Age: 528 yrs ( Adult Dream Puff) Rank: 5th Star Knight General ; Puff Chieftain

The greatest, most powerful warrior of the Galaxy; Galacta is nothing short of a force to be reckoned with! He's well above average size for a Dream Puff, and is frighteningly agile in the air despite his weight.

In contrast to his ferocity in a fight, Galacta has a rather warm and jolly disposition. He's a poster child for Dream Puffs, as someone who can find and bring joy even in the darkest of times. With his hearty, contagious laughter, it's hard to wear a frown around this plump, friendly feathery Puffball!

Behind the mask, he has bright purple eyes and a comedically oversized snaggletooth left fang. His mask visor emphasizes the red in his eye color, to help him achieve a more intimidating appearance since he's terribly fluffy and cute. Surprisingly, he has a distinguished Southern accent. When he speaks, one could practically hear gravy poured on a biscuit and a slice of pecan pie being served on your plate. He embodies southern hospitality well in addition, taking strongly after his mother who had a hobby as a starship mechanic.

"A Puff of purest pink shall arise from the ashes, and lay waste to the Warlock and fiendish foes."

Sir Galacta Asteri is said to be the reincarnated, prophesied hero of legend. Following his fall in a forgotten age (back when he was known as the "Aeon Hero") due to a cataclysm which changed his home world forever, he was predicted to return by an oracle of yore. However, his wandering soul was ensnared by the warlock Nightmare, who held him captive for thousands of years. The foul monster maker knew Galacta's power would be more than enough to slay him, and so deeply feared him.

It wasn't until a little over 500 years ago, a talented, brave, and somewhat cocky young Sorceress snuck into Nightmare's base and rescued Galacta from the evil wizard's grasp. She then set him free on the Puff Homeworld; thus the Galacta we know today came to be. He grew to change the world forever, and change his fate.

He was often regarded as "The Chosen" due to centuries of passed down legends and whispered hopes of his coming, and so Galacta was burdened with the fate of the Galaxy since a young age. Despite his incredible talents —as one would expect from someone supposedly reincarnated—, he often felt that his efforts weren't good enough for the world, and silently strove to become better.

Galacta was an only child, so those he refers to as his brothers or sisters are his closest childhood friends; however, that doesn't change the fact that they're close family to one another! These surrogate siblings of his are Sir Meta Knight, Sir Antwan, and Eave. He especially has a tight bond with Eave, who also shares his secrets. These siblings of his, and anyone he deems family, all lovingly refer to him as "Gally".

Coming to knighthood at the ripe age of 18, Galacta soared up the ranks until eventually replacing his mentor, Sir Eavansol, as Knight General of the Star Warriors. In this position, his talent for strategy flourished as he expertly led their armies into great success. With his pure power and might, he spear-headed every battle he attended. He was also responsible for a plethora of things outside of combat, conducting meetings with other Generals of other armies, and maintaining a healthy relationship between the Star Warriors and GSA.

During the war days, Galacta earned the call sign "Muffin Man" due to his somewhat plump form, which quickly became a useful and discreet way to summon him. It is true, however, that Gally is a bit overweight for a Puff, as evidenced strongly when he sits down. He "muffins" out a bit and looks more like a large pink dumpling than a nice round ball. Hence the nickname! He's a bit insecure and self conscious about it, but can't really do anything about it either.

Being a high-power Puff requires a lot of energy, and being in the high-stress position he was in the Star Warriors, he indulged himself often on his favorite sweet treat: strawberry cheesecakes. It became a rather terrible habit (for which Eave got on his case often) to the point where he had a hidden fridge in his office. Everyone knew about it, which he was hilariously unaware of.

Throughout Galacta's youth, he was trained to carry the torch as Puff Chief, leader of all the Dream Puffs of Homeworld, as he knew he wouldn't serve the Star Warriors forever. He eventually took on the mantle as Chief following the fall of Homeworld, and performed a stressful, yet delicate balancing act of leading both his people and the Star Warriors.

Galacta's lived a long life filled with responsibilities and expectations piled onto his plate, and though he succeeded in much throughout his career, he struggled silently and hid behind his own sweet snaggletooth smile. Meta Knight had to learn from someone, after all, and boy is Galacta a master at hiding himself in plain sight. Though not literally— stealth has never been his strong suit.

Many theorize that due to immense amount of pressure, the stress, perhaps the loss of Homeworld and therefore many loved ones including his right hand woman and lieutenant, Mei, or perhaps more. A few, including Sir Antwan, believe that unknown, yet dubious events caused the great and powerful Sir Galacta Knight to fall into a pit of madness.

Eyes reduced to crimson pin-pricks, wild and broken, it was clear that their beloved brother had at last broke and lost his mind. T'was that fateful day, nearly 300 years ago, where the winged warrior was sealed away in crystal by the last high mages of an old kingdom. He changed the world, but he could not change his fate.

According to Sir Meta Knight, his sister Eave was present for this, and swears down to the tips of her wings that there's more to this mystery. However, her investigations were never concluded, for she vanished some few years later.

Now, by a certain lone knight's overly ambitious actions, Galacta Knight is freed once more, and free to wreak his wrath upon the Galaxy. Though one could only wonder how one as sweet and gentle as he could be reduced to a heartless, cold, killing machine?

Perhaps Eave knew something our heroes could only hope to discover without her...

70 notes · View notes

dunk-on-em-ao3 · 2 years

Text

Chomp (Or Three Times Donnie Bit Someone Accidentally, and One Time He Did it on Purpose)

Wind and ran thundered through the New York alleyway, shaking the gutters of the apartments that lined it on either side. The inhabitants of those apartments had all closed their windows and pulled shut the blinds a long time ago. There was no going out in this kind of weather, their only choice was to wait it out.

In the middle of the alleyway, out of sight from the cars and taxis on the road, there was a shack. Pulled together from discarded shipping pallets and stolen laundry, it shook and rattled in the raging storm. Splinter sat in the center; his newly mutated legs drawn up towards his chest. While the shack provided shelter from the wind, rain dripped through, drenching the top of his head. He held out a jacket in front of him, creating an additional shelter for – for his children.

This is no place for a child, he thought distantly, watching as the four young turtles played on the concrete ground.

The four didn’t know any better though, and their laughs and shrieks of joy as they chased each other through their small shelter almost drowned out the thunder overhead. Splinter’s mouth twitched up into a smile every time one of the kids crawled under his legs to hide from their brothers.

He was calling them brothers, anyway.

They were all very clearly different kinds of turtles. The largest one seemed to be the oldest, as he was already walking without much hassle. His jaw and protruding snaggletooth that Splinter found endlessly endearing pointed toward some kind of snapping turtle. The smallest one, fittingly enough, seemed to be the youngest, as he was still crawling, his large round shell bumping up against Splinter’s foot every so often. The other two seemed to be close in age, one with distinct red markings over his eyes, and one with –

One with a shell that was soft to the touch.

The young turtle, while clearly an infant, seemed to know that the shell on his back was vulnerable. He always kept his shell pointed away from his brothers, especially the oldest. He was the first to back up when the red-eyed turtle and the snapper got into wrestling matches. And while him and his red-eyed brother seemed to be in the process of learning to walk, always made sure to fall forward instead of backwards when he tripped up.

Splinter didn’t know much about turtles. Honestly, he didn’t know soft-shelled turtles were even something that existed.

He leaned back, resting his back against the alley wall. He continued holding the jacket up, not wanting his young children to get wet.

For the hundredth time that day, he wondered what exactly he was doing. He had never cared for a child before, let alone four children, let alone four infant, mutant, turtle children. A sigh echoed through their small shelter, as Splinter tried to quell the rising panic in his gut. This home would only work for so long. They needed somewhere new to go. He glanced at the fur covering his arms and legs, and a rush of bile rose in this throat. No one would take him in – not in this state. What was he going to do? How was he going to provide? What if –

A small tug to his side broke him out of his thoughts. His soft-shelled son had a grip on a shirt, and was trying to pull his small frame onto Splinter’s lap. His forehead was furrowed tight in concentration as he scrambled for purchase, and Splinter could almost imagine a pair of eyebrows above those focused eyes.

“What are you doing, little one?” Splinter chuckled as he let go of one end of the jacket. He placed a gentle hand underneath the young child, (and ancestors above, he really did need to name them,) and carefully helped the child up.

The other three took that as their cue, and they all immediately started climbing, trying to join their brother on the warm lap. Splinter laughed, wincing slightly as his oldest son’s claws dug slightly into him.

They all made it there eventually, sprawled out in Splinter’s arms. The youngest turtle immediately fell asleep, one chubby hand wrapped around a clump of his fur. The other three curled up around him, and their giggles and shrieks quickly turned into sleepy snuffles as they all started to doze off. Splinter smiled at the sight, his eyes starting to feel heavy as well. He drew the jacket over his own head, creating a makeshift tent for his boys. A small nap would do him well, and he could look for a new place to stay when the rain finally stopped. He closed his eyes, and let the sound of the rain lull him into a fitful sleep.

Line

When Splinter awoke, it was to soft whining, and gentle tugs on his whiskers.

“Hmm?” he sleepily mumbled, as he blinked his eyes back into focus. He pulled the jacked off of his head, and the light from the streetlights illuminated the scene in front of him. His red-eyed son stood on his chest, right in front of his face. There were tears in his eyes as he whined again, and gave his father’s face another pull.

“What is it?” Splinter murmured, much more awake. He looked around. Evening had fallen, and the rain had stopped. The streets were eerily quiet. The child in front of his face started to cry, his wails quickly turning into hiccupping sobs. His oldest child and his youngest quickly rose from their slumber and joined in, their wails adding to Splinter’s panic.

And the soft-shelled turtle –

And his soft-shelled son was not on his lap at all.

Splinter scrambled to his feet, holding the other three close. His eyes dartled frantically around the shelter. Nothing. He wasn’t here.

“Little one?” Splinter called out, again cursing the fact that he hadn’t named them yet. “Where are you?”

Nothing.

Cursing under his breath, Splinter exited their small shelter. Holding three of his sons in one arm, he rifled through his meager pile of possessions he had collected outside. Most of it was stuff he had pulled from the trash, and most of it was probably useless, but maybe-

A-ha!

He pulled out a bucket, and quickly put the three turtles inside. Their cries only got louder, pulling terribly on Splinter’s heartstrings. There was no time. He couldn’t afford one of them wandering off as well while he was looking for their brother.

He ran up and down the alley, pushing over boxes and pulling up trash, all while calling out softly for his son. He kept his voice low, even though every part of him wanted to yell. He didn’t need any humans opening up their windows above him, and taking this night from bad to worse.

His eyes kept flicking over to the roads on either side of him. The bright lights of the cars brought forth a panic in him that he was unable to describe. If his son had gone out there –

Would it be worth looking?

Would it be worth that pain?

No, he thought desperately. He would find him. He would find his son. He had to be here somewhere. Splinter quickly retraced his steps, checking and double checking every nook in the wall and every discarded Amazon box. The cries of the three turtles in the bucket faded into the background, as Splinter scurried as quickly as he could.

He isn’t here, Splinter’s mind unhelpfully supplied as he finished looking through the alley for the second time.

His feet stuttered to a stop.

My son isn’t here.

He turned towards the roads once more, trying to find the courage to make his feet move towards them. If something had happened, he needed to know.

He took a step, and at the same time heard a cry that had his ear twitching. He remained perfectly still, almost convinced that he had imagined it.

Again, a wail cut through the silence. It wasn’t coming from their shelter, from the bucket that housed the other three.

He ran in its direction, skidding to a stop in front of a manhole cover.

He couldn’t have –

Another cry, and Splinter was pulling the manhole cover out of the way. The cover had already been raised, creating a two-inch gap, perfect for a curious turtle. Splinter grunted as he tossed the cover aside, and stuck his head inside.

His eyes took a second to adjust, but when they did, Splinter let out a sigh that sounded more like a sob. There, only two rungs down, was his soft-shelled son. He was straddled over the ladder rung, clinging desperately to the side. His shell was pointed toward Splinter, and his face was pressed into the side of the ladder.

“You’re alright, little one,” Splinter cried, reaching his hand out. His son wasn’t that far down. He reached forward, holding on to the edge of the manhole for balance. Another stretch, and his hand wrapped around his son’s soft shell.

And maybe it was because the child was very obviously panicked, or maybe because his shell was sensitive, but as soon as Splinter made contact, his child turned around, his eyes pinched shut, and bit him.

Splinter didn’t know a lot about turtles, but the first thing he learned was that soft-shells have very powerful jaws.

His son clamped down harder, and Splinter yelped, desperately fighting against the urge to yank his hand back.

“It’s okay, little one, please let go,” he whispered, his voice trembling. His son hadn’t opened his eyes, and a faint spot of blood bloomed from where he was biting down. Splinter pulled the rest of himself into the manhole, trying not to move his hand at all. As soon as he got his feet on the ladder rungs, he brought his other hand around to his son’s front, gently prying him away from the ladder and into his arms.

As soon as his son was off of the ladder, his bite slackened and pulled away. His eyes opened, Splinter’s heart shattering as he saw they were red from tears.

“There you are!” Splinter laughed, as he spared a glance down at his hand. A perfect bite mark laid in the palm of his hand, a mark that would no doubt scar.

But any pain he felt was quickly overpowered by the overwhelming relief at having his son in his arms again.

His son smiled, cooing happily, finally feeling safe.

Splinter took a deep breath, enjoying the warm air that the sewer brought. It was – a lot cleaner than he imagined. This might be something to explore in the future.

But for now, he climbed the ladder back up to the alley, looking for his sons that he left in a bucket, and looking to see if he had any bandages.

________

This is the first part of a multi-chapter fic! Follow it on AO3 here

#rottmnt #rottmnt fic #rise tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fic #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #Rise Donatello #rise donnie #rise tmnt fic #my fic #ana speaks!

58 notes · View notes

ennaku-sirri-da · 1 year

Text

I’m as busy as a spider spinning daydreams,

I’m as giddy as a baby on a swing.

I haven’t seen a crocus or a rosebud

Or a robin on the wing,

But I feel so gay—in a melancholy way—

That it might as well be spring…

It might as well be spring.

[ ID: Traditional art that has been colored and edited digitally, featuring Kamal Bora and Dr.Habit from Smile For Me the game.

In the artists interpretation Kamal as a kid is much shorter than Habit. He has short straight hair. He wears a oversized dark purple sweater. Then he has a frilly red skirt which sparkles. Ending with light blue socks and pink crocs. Blue-magneta headphones are worn.

Here Habit is a really tall kid. He has a muppet-like appearance with yellow-greenish fur, very long rose-pink curly hair, pink blushing cheek patches with three freckles, ears stuffed with cotton fluff , deep red nails. His eyes are orange, circled below by red ruffles and have some pale purple eyeshadow. He wears a teal buttoned shirt with wavy darker pants that have yet darker stripes on them. Basically it's Kamal’s outfit from the game. His feet are bare.

We are viewing them from above. Kamal is braiding lillies of various colors and shapes- multicolored, freckled, painted- into Habit's huge hair, now he's at the end of it. He sits with folded legs. Besides Habit's ear lies a Tooth Lily. Habit lays his head back, supported by hands on the ground, and looks at the viewer with a devilish smile-a glint in his eye, one blue snaggletooth showing. His feet are thrown about casually. Between them lies a half-open book titled 'Science Of Constipation' in loud colors and fonts. It shows a page titled 'Importance of taking a dump by Bob Smith' that has been absolutely vandalized by Habit. Bob Smith's photo now sports a hat, devil horns and a mustache. ' Preface' has been struck out and replaced with 'Peeface'. Skull, flowers, star, eyes, and a silly emote with its tongue out have been doodled with a red sketch which lies nearby.

Nature surrounds them. Most of it is springtime flowers that can be found in Boston, USA. Daffodils, crocuses, peonies, roses, azaleas, pansies, tulips, black-eyed susans, trailing arbutus. Among this lush greenery- snails, ladybugs can be seen underneath while dragonflies, butterflies, bees fly above. Some young black sheep graze. One looks ahead, with a white heart-marking on its head. Beside Habit's left leg is a large light orange-brown rabbit, curled up and sleeping. Somewhere among the flowers are two small white red-eyed rabbits nuzzling.

To the far right swaying bushes of cattail grow. Beside them is a clear stream running, host to a male and female mallard duck leading their ducklings, bladderworts, white waterlilies with their pads. Among these waterlilies, a brown frog and tadpoles in various stages of life can be spotted. One duckling catches a tadpole in its beak. To the very front are Habit and Kamal's paper boats engaged in a race-- Kamal appears to be winning. One is pink and crumply, heavily decorated, a submerged tag attached to it reads ' B.H'. The other is neat and streamlined with a little teal flagpole announcing it as 'KB'.

The first version of the drawing is overlaid with a very warm orange filter, the second is unedited. End ID]

Talk below the cut!

PLEASE LOOK AT THIS I WORKED ON IT FOR MONTHS NO JOKE THIS IS MY CHILD WHOM I WAS PREGNANT WITH AND NOW I HAVE PAINSTAKINGLY BIRTHED AND CLEANED HIM FOR ALL OF TUMBLR TO SEE

[ Plain text: Please look at this I worked on it for months no joke this is my child whom I was pregnant with and now I have painstakingly birthed and cleaned him for all of tumblr to see]

🥸[ Glasses-and-moustache silly disguise emoji ]

aNYWAY this is part of a series of drawings where Habit and Kamal are just playing as kids really LOL

I listened to Vashti Bunyan's 'Just Another Diamond Day' album a LOT while coloring and drawing this HAHA also some vintage springtime songs! They were so lovely!!!

This also taught me a lesson to plan out my drawings more I guess but also WITNESS THIS BEAUTIFUL CHAOS AND MAY YOUR HEART BE OPENED TO ALL THE JOYOUS POSSIBILITIES MY FRIEND

[ Plain text: Witness this beautiful chaos and may your heart be opened to all the joyous possibilities my friend]

----

A stranger would not have noticed the change, but Molly could see that the withered earth was brightening with a greenness as shy as smoke. Squat, snaggly trees that had never yet bloomed were putting forth flowers in the wary way an army sends out scouts; long-dry streams were beginning to rustle in their beds, and small creatures were calling to one another. Smells slipped by in ribbons: pale grass and black mud, honey and walnuts, mint and hay and rotting applewood; and even the afternoon sunlight had a tender, sneezy scent that Molly would have known anywhere. She rode beside Schmendrick, watching the gentle advent of the spring and thinking of how it had come to her, late but lasting.

"Unicorns have passed here," she whispered to the magician. "Is that the cause, or is it Haggard's fall and the Red Bull's going? What is it, what is happening?"

"Everything," he answered her, "everything, all at once. It is not one springtime, but fifty; and not one or two great terrors flown away, but a thousand small shadows lifted from the land.

Wait and see."

-- From The Last Unicorn by Peter Beagle

:-) [ smile emote ]

#my art #YQKAJSMMS #fanart #dr habit #kamal bora #roseverse #AU #s4m #smile for me game #How I toil for thee; Smile For Me!

23 notes · View notes

princesssarisa · 1 year

Text

Sleeping Beauty Spring: "World Famous Fairy Tale Series/My Favorite Fairy Tales: Sleeping Beauty" (1976 anime series episode)

This nine-minute animated Sleeping Beauty from Japan has a bit of a convoluted history. From what I gather, it was produced in 1976 by Toei Animation as part of their World Famous Fairy Tale Series. But in America, Saban Entertainment added it to their English dub of an entirely different fairy tale anime, Studio Unicorn's My Favorite Fairy Tales of 1986. American children of the '80s might remember it from its VHS release by Hi-Tops Video, where it was paired with the My Favorite Fairy Tales versions of Snow White and Cinderella, and featured a comical picture of a yawning princess on the cover.

Predictably for a nine-minute short, this retelling of Sleeping Beauty is simple and straightforward. The animation is colorful yet simple, with stylized, doll-like character designs and frequent use of stills rather than fluid movement. At the celebration of the Princess's birth, there are seven good fairies, each dressed in a different color and a pointed hat much like Disney's fairies. Accordingly, the Wicked Witch (who in the English dub is said to be the good fairies' sister, though I don't know if the Japanese versions says the same) looks a bit like an uglier Maleficent: a tall, imposing hag in a black cloak and a cowl that resembles bat ears, whose magic takes the form of purple lightning. By contrast, the youngest good fairy, who softens the Witch's curse from death to sleep, looks like a small child with a cute overbite ("Little Snaggletooth," the Witch calls her in the English dub), and wears golden yellow.

On her fifteenth birthday, the Princess (a slightly insipid looking beauty in pink, with solid blue eyes and almost Rapunzel-ish blonde hair) follows her wandering pet cat into a crumbling old tower. The English dub specifies that the cat is really an ally of the Witch's, but again, I don't know if this is true in the Japanese version. There the Witch waits with a spinning wheel, and once the Princess falls asleep, she proceeds to put the rest of the court to sleep too and enrobe the castle in thorn-covered vines. But a hundred years later, a Prince with violet eyes and '70s mullet hair arrives and the briars part for him. At the tower, the Witch attacks him first with a swarm of bats, then with her magic lightning, but then the childlike Yellow Fairy appears and turns her own magic wand into a sword, which lets the Prince deflect the magic lightning back onto the Witch and send her flying away in agony. The kiss, awakening, and happy ending then take place, and at the Prince and Princess's wedding, not only are the good fairies invited, but so is the Witch, who is comically shown covered in bandages and sulking.

The Japanese version is narrated by a woman, who (apparently) also speaks the lines of every character, affecting a different voice for each one. The English dub has separate voice actors for the characters, but also has a female voiceover narrator – the Wicked Witch herself. This, I think, is the English dub's downfall. We're forced to hear the Witch chattering on and on in her annoying scratchy voice, in a sassy, irreverent tone that's much less funny than it was obviously meant to be. This heavy-handed attempt at comic villainy is a particular shame, because the animation of the Witch is often genuinely frightening and probably the short's strongest element. For this reason alone I prefer the Japanese version, even though I don't speak Japanese, and even though the English version has a more classically fairy tale-ish musical score, while the Japanese score has more of a '70s pop sound.

Overall, this is a reasonably charming Sleeping Beauty, but it's not an essential version. It might be a decent introduction to the story for small children, but otherwise, it's a version for completists only.

@ariel-seagull-wings, @thealmightyemprex, @reds-revenge, @faintingheroine, @thatscarletflycatcher, @comma-after-dearest, @paexgo-rosa, @autistic-prince-cinderella, @the-blue-fairie, @themousefromfantasyland, @fairytaleslive

#sleeping beauty spring #sleeping beauty #world famous fairy tale series #toei animation #my favorite fairy tales #1976 #1986 #anime #animated short #fairy tale #japan

12 notes · View notes

echoesofadventure · 3 months

Text

Not me, in tears last night trying to floss.

They told me braces would hurt. Tons of people told me they hurt. There's really no way to know though.

I have a 20 month treatment plan, I can do this - for the 25 years of hating my smile, for the 25 years I went through with people making fun of my snaggletooth. For an early life of neglect, for my inner child, pleading to be taken care of, to be seen and loved.

The snaggletooth represents so much to me and having it fixed is the one thing I thought I'd never be able to accomplish. What am I gonna do when it's no longer there?

Smile even brighter 😁

#personal #random #inner thoughts outward

5 notes · View notes

nancypullen · 5 months

Text

Checking In

It's been a wonderful few days here on the Pullen spread. Matt has been in town and he's always such good company. We've had a lot of laughs, eaten too much holiday food, and just enjoyed being together. The Edgewater gang went down to Tennessee for Turkey Day, but I've had two calls from our Little Miss and have seen loads of pictures - they're having a ball. They'll be home on Sunday, Matt will fly out this evening, and we'll all brace ourselves for Christmas. We're getting decorated, my cards have arrived, and I'm ready to start wrapping gifts. The mister and I may wander into D.C. and visit the Christmas market, or we may opt to go to Baltimore's Inner Harbor - they do a big German Christmas village with loads of vendors (and German food!). Chestertown, on our side of the bridge, will have their Dickens Christmas festival the first weekend of December. We'll definitely give that a go. Doesn't look like we'll lack for Christmas cheer. I've volunteered to work the Friends of the Library booth at the Ridgley Christmas shindig, we'll see if they plug me into the schedule. I think that's on the 9th. It's tiiiiime!

In other news....I GOT A JOB! The Caroline County Library looked past my pink fluff (and maybe my age) and offered me a position! Yippee! I'll start January 16th, so come on over and see the nice granny at the library, she'll help you with anything you need. I never thought I'd be starting a new job at age 60, but I truly think it's going to be good for me in many ways. I can't just rot in this house. When the offer was made and salary and start date settled, I was reminded that this was, of course, pending a clean background check. Why is it, that even when you know you haven't had so much as a speeding ticket in decades, you wonder if you'll pass the background check? No one has lived a more vanilla life than I have, but what if they uncover that I skipped school in 1980 and egged a rival high school? I'll bet the people doing my background check weren't even born in 1980. What's the statute of limitations of egging? I may also have knowledge of several toilet papering incidents. That's it, I'm sunk.

Moving right along. I've got several artsy projects going. It looks like a glitter factory exploded in my craft room and that makes me happy. Look at these little chests (don't look at my mess).

Those are going to be tooth fairy boxes! My grandgirl and my sister's grandson are about the same age, both in kindergarten and nearing the snaggletooth stage of life. I''ll touch up the paint on these, glue in a little cushion, and place a little scroll inside printed with a poem I wrote for them: The Tooth Fairy Riding a moonbeam, she enters our land With glittering wings and a pouch in her hand Searching for treasure, a fairy's delight, a child's lost tooth, shiny and white. Upon finding a tooth that pleases her eyes, she leaves that lucky child a surprise So take care of your teeth, do your best When one is lost, use this chest Close your eyes, drift and dream She'll soon arrive on a silver moonbeam When you wake, look inside And see what treats a fairy hides

Okay, it's rough, but it'll work for little kids. It's all about the magic, folks. Make as much magic as you can for as long as you can. If it includes glitter, even better. Okie dokie, time for me to get busy around here. There are decorations to hang, things to sparkle, and cookies to eat. I hope you're doing something fun today, too. Whether that means shopping with the crowds or watching Hallmark movies and drinking hot cocoa, do it! Let's make a pact to send 2023 on its way in a cloud of merriment and happiness. The world is insane, bad news blares at us all day, so do everything you can to make your little corner of the world sweet. Sending you love and lots of holiday cheer. Sprinkle it all over! Stay safe, stay well, stay jolly. XOXO, Nancy

3 notes · View notes

scourge-lover · 1 year

Text

Love is in the Air

Even undead monsters can find love.

Father of the year award will sadly go to someone else, though.

***

One time, Bolvar warned. This one time would he be allowed out with only Sapphire as his companion. If she sensed any trouble from him, he would be ceremoniously dragged back to the Citadel. Bolvar wouldn’t risk a single mortal’s life for this frivolous venture. Good behavior would determine the next steps.

Here Arthas stood, under a dim streetlight in the Mage District. Windows were lit up as families started dinner or were relaxing after working all day. Some mages might be doing homework or writing up a new spell they invented. Very few people were outside. A guard dozed near the Mage Tower, head tilted forward. Should he really want to, Arthas could have caused any amount of damage he desired before anyone could remotely try to stop him.

The crickets were starting to sing in the night air. The early spring air had a slight sting of cold, but not too much. He might could have smelled the local tavern’s fresh baked bread, but all he could smell was the perfume he’d laboriously bathed in. It was not just smell he had changed about himself. His hair had been laboriously doused in shampoo for volume and brushed to perfection. He wore the finest tailored clothes he could find in such short notice. A simple gold chain hung from his neck.

A little cough behind him caused Arthas to look back at Sapphire. “Are you really sure about this?”

His daughter looked up with bright eyes and bared her tiny teeth into a smile. Her recently grown snaggletooth gleamed.

“Of course! I researched it. It’s supposed to be very romantic. You toss a pebble or stick up at his window, he’ll open it and you read him the poem you made, and he’ll be yours forever!”

Arthas curled his lip up. “I don’t think so.”

“Books don’t lie!” Sapphire said confidently.

Arthas was not about to get into an argument with a child over a fictional book trope. Everything about this seemed a mistake.

Sapphire jumped ahead of him and trotted to the apartment building where Lethumo lived. She then scrounged around to pick up acorns and pinecones.

“Which of these should we use?”

Arthas rushed over to stop her, suddenly self-conscious. “There is no we! I’m doing this and you will be silent and invisible.” After glancing around, he saw a neatly trimmed hedges along the stone walls. He pointed commandingly. Sapphire pouted. Arthas did not relent.

“Go on. If you keep quiet, I won’t drown you in a canal.”

Sapphire let out a frustrated noise, but obediently went to the shrubbery. She noisily rummaged around leaves and branches. Her dainty antlers comically stood out amongst the leaves, but less observant mortals would just see some odd branches if they had looked.

Arthas stood alone in the dark street. Music drifted out of the tavern down a few blocks and crickets sang, but otherwise it was serenely quiet for Stormwind.

He looked up toward Lethumo’s apartment. Its window shone like a star in the sky. Arthas picked up one of the pinecones Sapphire had offered. He pulled his arm back to throw it but thought better of it. Breaking Lethumo’s window would not endear the bard over to him. He tossed it underhandedly. The pinecone missed the window and fell straight down near the hedges.

This was his chance. He could just walk away. Go home and forget about this farce. Sapphire would be annoying, but when wasn’t she?

Arthas picked up another cone and this time did not hesitate to toss it a little harder and higher. This time, the pinecone hit the window with a click. To be sure he was heard, Arthas got another to toss.

He saw a shadow moving across the lighted window. The third pine cone nailed its target as well, making a louder noise. The shadow grew darker and bigger. Arthas watched the latch undo. If he still possessed a heart, it would have leapt into his throat.

Lethumo opened the window. He looked just like Arthas remembered. The elf seemed to have planned to retire early, since he wore soft night clothes. He looked around curiously up near the window, then looked down below at the ground. His eyes widened. The elf took on the appearance of a tense cat.

“Ar-...Andrew. What are you doing here?”

Suddenly, Arthas forgot how to speak. Opening his mouth became as difficult as climbing a mountain. He cleared his throat.

“Greetings fair bard! I have come to romance you with the words of...my heart.”

If Tirion Fordring came upon him at that moment, Arthas would have begged for a violent, painful death. Anything but this humilating experience.

For Lethumo’s part, he looked completely taken aback by this declaration.

“Are you okay? Did you hit your head? Where’s Sapphire?”

Sapphire, upon hearing her name, enthusiastically rose from her hedge spot, but Arthas violently propelled her back down among the leaves.

“Ow!”

He spoke quickly, wanting to get this over with. “Alive and well. She’s not here at the moment!” His voice rose an octave at the end, glancing toward the bush angrily.

Lethumo had seen the entire interaction, with a dour look on his face. “I see.”

Arthas brushed some loose leaves off of his mussed clothes. It was now or never. The paper carefully folded in a pocket was ready to make its appearance. An entire night of work. Childhood memories of poetry lessons had long been cast aside. He only hoped it was not terrible.

Before Lethumo could interrupt him, Arthas let it out. His cold demeanor fell slightly as he let himself become vulnerable.

I melt when you smile.

I can't breathe when you speak.

Everything else fades away when you touch me.

I think I might fly when you kiss me.

All I know when you're around is I love you.

Lethumo had leaned over the windowsill and cupped his chin with one hand.

“That was....quite sincere,” He finally said, voice trembling slightly.

He fell into silence, and let the empty night come back. Crickets sang in response to him, but he didn’t want to hear from them.

Arthas felt like he stood on a thin slice of ice. Any moment it would crack and nothing would prevent Arthas from falling.

The elf gave Arthas a small smile. “I definitely have...notes, but I appreciate the sentiment. This was quite romantic. I did not expect something like this from you of all people,” He stopped for a brief pause, and then waved toward himself.

“I don’t suppose you would want to come upstairs for a glass of wine? I remember you once telling me you prefer dessert wine.”

Arthas took a second to react. He forced himself to nod. “Yes, that would be nice.”

Lethumo started to close the window, but then looked back out with a smirk.

“Don’t leave Sapphire in the bushes. Let her come up too.” He relatched the window and brushed the curtains back into place.

Sapphire slumped out of the shrubs and quickly hopped to her feet.

“Can I have some wine too?”

Arthas shoved her back into the bush. “No.”

He heard her claw her way back out, but he didn’t wait on her. Arthas ascended up to the apartment, still feeling like he stood on dangerous ground. The door stood open.

Two glasses of wine stood out on the kitchen counter. The open wine bottle sat next to them. Lethumo was leaned over his cold storage bin. Arthas gently lifted the wine to his lips.

“I appreciate you uh, letting me in,” Arthas said. Lethumo pulled out some cheese and sausages and started organizing them on a wooden board. He gave Arthas a smile.

“How could I refuse such a grandiose display! I’m still shaking a little,” The bard said, pressing one hand to his chest dramatically.

Arthas cleared his throat. “I meant every word.”

Their eyes met briefly. This was his moment, Arthas felt. He started to lean forward. Lethumo didn’t pull away.

Sapphire came in, and immediately Lethumo’s attention turned to her.

“Oh saber cub! Not a day has passed when I haven’t thought of you!” The elf snatched her up and squeezed her against his chest. He then planted his lips against her cheek. Arthas scowled. Sapphire looked pretty smug. He shoved her onto a kitchen stool and slid the cheese and meat over.

“Eat up little baby! You’re just as thin as the last time I saw you. Does your father ever feed you!!!”

A flit of jealously rushed over Arthas. This is why he hadn’t even wanted Sapphire to come with him! Why did she have to mess up everything?

Lethumo leaned by Arthas briefly to get her some fresh bread from a shelf. Before he pulled away completely, Lethumo turned just enough to plant a kiss on Arthas’s cheek.

#love is in the air #valentine's day #AO3 fanfic #fanfic #short story #Arthas Menethil #OC #oc x canon

8 notes · View notes

yautja-lover · 9 months

Text

ROTTMNT 🐢💜❤️‍🔥 Betrayer of My Heart 💔

Chapter 1 The Prologue of Lucy Jones

Lucia "Lucy" Jones x Donatello "Donnie"

You're probably wondering what's a female mutant, half turtle and half human like myself taking shelter inside a drain pipe underneath the sewers of New York on a rainy night such as this? Well, let me tell you... I wasn't always like this, I used to be human, or at least I was born human.

My name is Lucia Jones, Lucy for short, and no, I'm not related to Casey Jones... at least not to my knowledge I'm not. I was an orphan that was abandoned by their parents on Christmas Eve and left with nothing but the blanket I was wrapped up in since the day I was born to survive during the freezing winter's night. I was a foster child with trust and abandonment issues, when I first found out that I was being adopted I was anxious while being slightly hopeful that I would have a family to love and be cared for.

Turned out the foster parents were evil scientists working for a man named Oroku Saki that would use me as their Guiana pig to do their experiments on. So I ran away numerous times I was able to outsmart them or so I thought... they somehow always managed to find me.

Then one day I was able to escape with some help by four mutant ninja turtles. They took me in under their care and treated me like I was a part of their family, for the first time in my life I didn't feel alone and felt like I could learn to trust again. They made me feel safe and make me feel like a normal human being, that I could be myself around them.

There's Raphael or Raph for short he's an alligator snapping turtle a large, muscular figure that stood six feet tall with bright green skin, an orange plastron with forked top edges, and a dark green carapace with three dorsal ridges. He has spikes on his shoulders and elbows with a sharp snaggletooth protruding from the right side of his upper jaw. He wears a red bandana that covers the top of his head with long, torn bandana tails and a tear underneath his right eye.

He gives the warmest hugs and is practically a walking teddy bear underneath all that warrior spirit but doesn't be fooled cause he is quite scary when he's upset or protective of others he cares about.

Next, there's Leonardo or Leo for short he's a red-eared slider that stood at five feet and five inches tall with lime green skin, a mustard yellow plastron and a green-blue carapace with a teal pattern. He has two red crescent-like stripes over his eyes and yellow stripes on his upper arms and thighs, he also wears a blue bandana with long bandana tails.

And like Raph, their like the big older brother I never had and are very protective over me. Though Leo is the more serious one of the two.

Thirdly, there's Michelangelo or Mikey for short he's an ornate box turtle that stood at four feet and seven inches tall with blue-green skin, a bright yellow plastron, and a blue-grey carapace with a yellow pattern. He has geometric yellow markings on his shoulders and thighs with a small tooth gap in the left side of his upper jaw. He also wears an orange bandana on the top of his head with short bandana tails, wristbands, socks and knee pads with red faces on them (a dead face on the right and a smiley face on the left) with a pair of magenta and cyan sticker on his plastron (a triangle and a lightning bolt).

His personality is as colorful and cheerful as his appearance, like me he's the smallest and the youngest of the group. His spirited-heart personality can light up the room and cheer anyone's mood up.

And lastly, there's Donatello or Donnie for short he's a spiny softshell turtle that stood at five feet and three inches tall with jade green skin, a light brown plastron and a brown and green carapace with dark brown spots, he has geometric purple markings on his shoulders and thighs. He wears a purple bandana that covers the top of his head with short rectangular bandana tails and a silver pair of asymmetric goggles (that reminds you of 3D glasses) he also wears a purple battle shell to cover his real shell for protection along with other gadgets (making him look like a turtle version of Batman).

He's the kindest and sweet guy I ever met who has my heart... I thought he was one person that I could trust that'll never do anything to hurt me or betray my trust. Sadly I was wrong... cause he's the reason why I'm like this, he took away my choice and right of being a human.

This is my story and the beginning of my origin from being an orphan child to a mutant turtle taking shelter inside a drain pipe underneath the sewers of New York.

#lucia “lucy” jones #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt fic #betrayer of my heart 💔#yautja-lover posts #yautja-lover writing

3 notes · View notes