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genesisrose74 · 3 years

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Requested by @blanknamed (aka my bestie fr): hihi i saw the matchup and remembered my irl friend sent me these pictures when describing my aesthetic at one point and was wondering if i can have a matchup with someone from dsmp and dr. stone 🥺congrats on 1k too! so proud of you ❤️ you deserve this milestone!

Arielle get over here and let me give you a virtual kiss on the forehead because you’re just the sweetest person to ever grace this earth 😚forgive me for the long wait but i had to put so much into this one because it’s for you!! thank you for always being such a ray of sunshine and for becoming one of my first ever mutuals so long ago — and as a show of my gratitude, i’ll get right into your first pairing, which is going to be with…

I had a literal conflict over this because I think you could be compatible with more than half of the characters in dr. stone (looking at gen specifically), but UGH you and Senku would be so damn iconic together. As much as he’s not intent on becoming romantically involved with anyone, it just so happened that you both had a chance meeting together at the school library — in the modern times pre-petrification, of course. You were looking for a book on the development of radiation powered technology for a history class, and by coincidence Senku was reading the blurb of that very text when you stopped by. When you asked if he’d read it, your classmate simply shook his head and said he just knew a lot about the subject, and soon enough a conversation blossomed from that point.

Y’all talked for two hours. While standing in the same spot. TWO HOURS. And it didn’t even stop there because he realized the time and asked if you wanted to talk more over a bowl of this really good ramen he knew about close by. Senku barely even realized the implications of his offer until much later, since…

He was way too involved in your conversation to notice

He’s never had any interest like that in someone before, let alone has he ever tried asking a person out in general

Everything about you was so interesting to him that he cannot process anything else going on around him and he doesn’t know why

You just feel so different in comparison to his dynamic with anyone else that it throws him off. He’s curious as to why he straightens up when you walk in a room, why everytime you smile at his stupid dry jokes it makes him more confident, why your intrigued questions about his work give him an extra burst of adrenaline. After he comes home late, having fallen asleep in the library while you studied for a test beside him, Byakuya eventually spells it out for Senku in massive bold letters.

No, seriously, he writes it on a whiteboard with a chunky black marker.

“That’s ridiculously far-fetched,” he asserts quickly, trying to push his old man out of the room. “Since when have I ever been interested in anyone in that way?”

“Senku, you waited for her to finish her work. Without complaint.”

And he’s like: oh shit—

But knowing Senku, he still makes some futile attempts to disprove the concept that he could ever be attracted to someone in a romantic sense. Ya know, all that, “science is my only devotion” shit. It lasted for about two weeks, which was the exact amount of time that he tried avoiding you in hopes of seeing if he could in fact continue his routine without your presence next to him.

The bitch still cannot swallow his pride though, so you have to be the one to make the first move — which is about as simple as perfecting Flight of the Bumblebee on a violin. Every time you try bringing it up, it’s like Senku gets a sixth sense about it and is pulled away from you as soon as possible. At some point you just had to corner him in the school lab, hands smacking against the surface of his work table and mouth blurting it out.

“I think we should go on a date.”

He’s kinda impressed at the sheer willpower you displayed in finally getting the question into the air. And as much as he would hate to admit it, some happy nerves shot through his body when it happened. On the outside, though, he simply failed to fight a grin.

“Wanna get food with me tonight?”

And you did :D and it only went good from there. Dates at cafes with comfy chairs and pretty lighting, test runs of new experiments in the middle of the night that Senku calls you to see together, just enjoying the presence of one another in a secluded corner of the libraries you frequent. Even after the disaster that was petrification you’re both side by side, being sarcastic little shits to each other as soon as Senku frees you from the stone; doing new tests to save the world, going on picnics by the river, and constantly being of service to one another.

And then from the c!dsmp, I thought it was only fitting to match you up with…

^^ artwork by SAD-ist on YouTube

Listen, listen: I was considering a more standard/expected approach to this matchup, like maybe c!Wilbur or c!Niki because they’ve both got some major academia vibes. Especially Niki, because damn she’d probably take you to her flower shop and make handmade bouquets for you each day. However, I just think that it would be so perfectly fitting to have you and c!Sapnap together aesthetically. He’s very emotionally driven, always doing something stupid, and he probably hasn’t read a book since L’manburg claimed to be a sovereign nation. Regardless of that fact, he could sit and watch you read a book for hours, even if you didn’t ask him to. Standard case of grounded scholar + impulsive idiot = natural soulmates.

Within the region of the SMP, I imagine you like confining yourself to the libraries filled with ancient texts on the vast history of your home — although taking a visit to Eret’s self-made museum is always a pleasure as well. Niki gets along with you easily enough that you hang out together all the time, and it’s on one such occasion in the early days of L’manburg that Sapnap encounters you for the first time.

Dream had sent him out for scouting duty (which to Sapnap translates into, ‘be annoying to everyone within the walls’), and he’d taken to the edge of the country’s small borders, lounging up high above the trees so that he could see everything below with ease. To his surprise he found you, scribbling away within a ragged old notebook underneath a tree canopy, and wearing the prettiest smile he’d ever seen exist on a person before. You were waiting for your friend to arrive, it seemed, taking the ideas in your head and putting them to paper whilst you sat patiently. He was enraptured with you right away, and as a result he took to teasingly pestering you every chance he could.

Sapnap showed up at least once a week — and when he could, more than that — to slowly learn more about you. He tried staying under the radar of Wilbur when he did, just to make sure none of his endeavors were interfered with or got back to Dream in any capacity. Initially, his presence appeared a pain in your side, but your apprehension ultimately fell at the hands of his ridiculous humor and genuine inquiries as to your likes and dislikes. You knew who he was from the get-go, but it was hard not to find delight in his visits when he made such vigorous attempts to know you.

Although you’re sure he’d already learned it somehow, you told him your name one fateful afternoon, and he’s thought about that moment every day since, marking it as the first day he truly made progress in winning you over.

“You should come up here one day so we can talk normally,” he called out on a particularly overcast fall morning. “Maybe then I can see your face up close.”

You laughed, gazing up at him from the hillside on which you reclined. “You’re ridiculous. That’s not how this relationship works.”

“Mm, relationship? Sounds like you wanna gimme a kiss more than saying anything, hu—ow!”

A pine cone had clipped him in the shoulder harmlessly, chucked with expert aim by your own hand. Despite his surprise, Sapnap couldn’t help smiling.

“If you’re working that hard to twist the narrative and get me up there, how about you just come down instead?”

Without missing a beat the next day, he scaled to the top of the nation’s wall, made his way inside (with very little consideration for his safety), and took your face in his hands.

“You want me to?”

You already knew the implications. “Yeah.”

And he kissed you, then and there. Nice job, Ari!

Navigating a full blown relationship in the conditions y’all were in was not ideal. Sapnap tried everything he could to make sure you were safe, despite his distaste for your mother country and its leaders. After that cleared, though, it was a whole lot easier to be together and figure things out. Sapnap didn’t mind you staying within the walls as much as he initially thought because it reminded him of the first time you met, and so long as he could spend time with you he loved every second. Literally ask this man to do anything with you and he’s in, no matter what it is.

The sheer spontaneous energy Sapnap has inevitably feeds into your own, so while you’re much more contained than the pyromaniac, you have some very notable moments of crazy that are simply unforgettable. It’s honestly super funny to see that infectious life invade your senses, because otherwise you’re a super logical person and love entertaining yourself with the more simplistic things.

You work a lot with Wilbur on record keeping and cartography, but something that you and Sapnap apparently have in common is archery. That pine cone throw was no fluke, and he found that out when you came to visit, a shimmering bow fastened to a stock-full quiver on your back. It’s become a pastime to both ride out into the forest with your horses and practice archery (oftentimes mounted) as a way to let out frustration. If the weather conditions are too abysmal to go and do something outdoors, though, Sapnap likes to fall asleep watching you do methodical work, most commonly with his head in your lap as a fireplace crackles nearby. He’s a huge sucker for that cozy atmosphere, even though he tries to be all tough and badass at other times.

This became a huge ramble because I just think this pairing for you works so well, but I’m praying you get the picture. Sapnap is a flirty, slightly whiny, very protective, and free spirited person whenever you’re around, and he’d do whatever he could to see that pretty smile like the first day you told him your name. He thinks the world of you, and in his eyes your intelligence goes unparalleled.

#genesisrose 1k event #milestone event #matchup event #aesthetic matchup #senku x reader #c!sapnap x reader #dr stone matchups #dsmp matchup

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hannya-writes · 3 years

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Your Kind

Title: Your kind

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader, Peter Hale x Vampire!reader?

Other Characters: Kate Argent (mentioned), Laura Hale, Cora Hale and Talia Hale (Mentioned)

Category: friendship, platonic love.

Warning: Reader is a Vampire! Young Derek, and Young Peter because that's dangerous! This all happened after Paige's Dead. Violence, hypnotism or mind control (not sure but hey!) Peter being wild, I guess this is kind of sad.

Author's note: I didn't wanted to use the common powers of vampires because cliche! And I ended up with a mix of a striga, a bat and kind of werewolf powers, If I write a part 2, maybe I'll explain what's up with my version of vampires. And no! Vampire reader is not killing anyone... Yet. Also gifs are not mine, I found them on google!

• • •

In the moment you had stepped in Beacon Hills you had know that you shouldn't stay there for a long time. You weren't welcome. There was a Werewolf pack in town and werewolves didn't like your type. Maybe because of legends, since they told that your races were supposed to be enemies. Maybe because of a bad experience with someone of your race, maybe because it was engrained in their DNA. You didn't know. You never asked.

You just stayed as far away of the Hale family as possible. It was a problem that you got stuck in classes with no one else but Derek Hale. A teenager that had smell death and blood on you. He was cautious and curious about you, sneaking on you, expecting you to blow your cover. But you didn't. You had smelled him too, he smelled like a wolf, a mix of the animal itself and the smell of forest that came with them and made normal people get scared: the smell of the unknown, of danger.

You played it cool. You were a good student, middly attractive, you spoke when others spoke to you, you were kind and relaxed, you even helped some students in what was possible. When some students decided to pick on you, you didn't reacted. Never lost the patience that had been taught to you.

Then, there was Kate. Kate loved to pick on you, mock you, call you "the new library mouse". It was her insistance on you that had made Derek pay more attention to you. He smelled your murderous instinct every time Kate was close. An truth be told, he was amazed by your self-control.

After being put in a science work with him, you finally got the chance to know each other. You two had speak to each other like civilized human beings. You had joked together, you even became friends.

He wanted, no. He needed to know. He deserved to know, you were his friend now, he wanted to tell you what he was and needed to know more about you.

— Y/n, what are you? — he directly asked you one evening after the end of school, you were the last two people in the library, the question made you uneasy. If he discovered you, his family would kill you.

— excuse me? — was your simple answer, play dumb was your way out. Your parents have told you to do that, and act as a victim if necesary.

— you are not human, I can smell you — he confronted you walking in your direction.

— I'm a human, duh — you rolled your eyes faking amusement — Smell me? — you added with a perfect tone of confusion you had rehersed — do I smell good? — that last question was pure curiousness, you had recognized every part of his scent, you knew what every change in it mean so... Had he, maybe, done the same? Was it disgusting to him because of what you were?

— what? — he was surprised by your last words and you wished earth could swallow you whole, maybe your head first since you were blushing.

— there you are, I've been look for you — just in time, Peter Hale entered the library. And if Derek smelled of danger, Peter reak of wildness and blood. That was the first time you met, and unlike Derek, Peter took the opportunity to attack like the animal he was. Probably because he knew what you were.

Peter snarled at you, showing his fangs and blue glowing eyes, his fingernails turned to claws and suddenly the whole library smelled like wolf. His transformation triggered yours, he was challenging you in the little space that was yours. So, yes. You turned, but unlike him your fingers turned longer, your fingernails became long white claws. Your skin became paler, to the point of looking like a corpse. Your usually y/e/c eyes became red like those of an Alpha werewolf but unlike them your sclera turned black. Your 4 fangs grew in an instant and a high pitch sound inaudible for humans came out of your throat.

Derek covered his ears in pain at the sound that came from you. He couldn't believe his eyes, a wave of fear made him step away from you and Peter, his instinct told him to either fight by peter side or runaway. However his body wasn't able to move.

In a complete opposite reaction Peter jumped over you, hands extended, face contorted in an angry, animalistic expression. You saw him get closer but you didn't back off, you took a stride and with your longer hands throwed him away towards one of the book shelves. He didn't expected it, he had never fought a being like you.

— Leave — you warned him standing over him, but he wasn't afraid, he was angry. He jumped to his feet and charged again at you. You stepped away from his path, making him more furious. You were faster, you got more range with your claws. He was going to loose. That's why werewolves attacked your kind in packs. They trusted in their numbers, the organization. A lonely wolf, was a dead wolf.

Peter roared at you as he once again attacked. You knew what to do to kill him, one single slash of your claws and his lower jaw would be flying in the air. He would bleed out. You could almost see it.

However, instead of killing the menace you used one of the tricks the werewolves hated the most.

— calm down — you said in a soft voice keeping the eye contact and all of his attention on you— I'm not your enemy — you got closer to the werewolf, your hand lightly touched his face.

Peter would never be able of describe the sensation that over took him at your words, it had been as if suddenly he was in heaven, and the person speaking was an angel, better! a Goddess! He loved you, he would do everything in his hands to just hear you a little more. He will kill for you, he'll ask you to order him to kill in your name. Just for that sensation of fullness, happiness. You weren't his enemy, how could you? You were everything he wanted and more.

Your scent, your voice, your light touch, even your face had Peter hypnotized. You fully wrapped the violent werewolf with your presence, and he looked at you with big warm eyes. Even you hated using that trick. It was an induced state of bliss that made people easy to manipulate.

— everything is fine — Derek heard you said softly almost in a loving way, that made him feeling somehow nervous. He knew there was something wrong and he had to do something.

— who are you? — Peter asked in a soft tone that made you feel guilty of using your power over him. You took a breathe to aswer and then froze as you felt claws against the soft skin of your neck.

Peter saw the menace, felt your hand leave his face and fury rose from his chest, he growled warning Derek. He was aware of Derek speaking to you but the words didn't make sense why was Derek telling his goddess to let him go?

— Derek, please wait — hear you say his name made him see red. You had say Derek's name but not his? How could you? How dare Derek try to take you away?

Horrified you saw the werewolf extend his hand to attack Derek, you felt Derek's claws cutting your neck as you moved to avoid that the other werewolf claws hurt Derek. You had pushed Derek to your right. As you felt the spell over Peter was broken. Blood spilled from your wound, the strong taste of iron hit your tongue as you fought to breathe. But you couldn't, not with your throat slashed, not even when you tried to stop the bleeding with your hands.

Peter saw you confused, he didn't know if he had done that. He wanted to think that he had cut your throat, but he couldn't believe it.

— no, no Y/n — Derek spoke with panic as he crawled to you horrified by what he had done. He had kill you. It was like Paige all over again. His hands pressed over your hands trying to stop the bleeding.

— that won't kill her, she is a vampire — Peter said coldly, his eyes greedily watched how you struggled, how your red eyes slowly smother. He was amazed but disappointed, you a mythical creatures, a vampire non the less were dying like a common human being. You weren't as powerful as he expected. Why weren't you healing?

— I'm sorry — derek muttered ashamed, and Peter noticed that his own hands weren't tainted with blood. Derek hands were stained in red.

— no — peter voice was filled with hate, that vampire was his prey. That little vampire was his. You were his. Derek wasn't going to be your killer. His body moved and pushed Derek away from you with a kick, his hands took yours with the intent of taking them away from your wound, but he stopped. A sensation of coldness overtook him, his eyes slowly closed with a sudden desire to sleep.

On your end, the moment his hands touched you it felt like fire, the blood stopped flowing and the wound closed in a matter of seconds. You coughed a blood and the werewolf felt by your side asleep. The tears felt from your eyes freely and after a moment you hugged yourself to get a hold of your panic. The sound of someone else crying made you sit and look at Derek sniffing, with tears in his cheeks.

— D, D... Derek? — you called him out with a gruff voice, thanks to your recently healed vocal chords. — Der, der, derek — you repeated afraid of him being hurt, the worry made you stand up and walk towards him. — did he hurt you? Derek, are you ok? —

Derek looked at you with surprise and relieve, in his face the path of tears was pretty obvious.

— y/n, you are a vampire — he wasn't asking, of course not! the other werewolf had said it as you were almost dying.

— and you a werewolf — was the only thing that crossed your mind as you saw him.

— did you... Kill my uncle? — somehow Derek didn't sound worried, you denied with your head.

— Vampires... Can heal with the help of a werewolf — you said looking down, ashamed.

— but I, I... I tried to help you and.. — He was clearly confused and you sighed, feeling the need to explain yourself

— I charmed him, that makes a bond like the one of a master and a servant. You are not my servant... You can't heal me — you hated that stupid explanation but it was the truth.

Vampires had slaved werewolves to be closer to immortality. But not all of you did that. You had never had to charm someone, it could make people go crazy. It made a big unbalance in nature, made you get closer to the beast inside.

— I don't think Uncle Peter wanted to heal you — the comment made you giggle, but it soon died out.

— I know — you looked at Derek eyes for a moment — I won't charm you Derek, you are the closer to a friend I have and I have only speak to you for like... Two weeks — you smiled with sadness, knowing that this was a goodbye — but I have to go and your uncle has to forget about me —

— you are leaving? — he asked worried and a bit angry after all he had just found out what kind of creature you were — why? —

— Derek, your family is going to kill me if they discover that I charmed your uncle — you admitted scratching your neck nervously.

— My mom wouldn't... — Derek was trying to convince you, he made you feel bad, made you want to stay.

— she's going to do it — you stood up and went to his uncle, placidly asleep, Derek followed you. — I'm a problem to solve, a burden to destroy — you kneeled by Peter's side and reached to the back of his neck with a hand.

— no, you are not — he stated as serious as a heart stroke. — you are my friend — that made you smile.

— remember that if I make your uncle become a psycho — was the last thing you said before sinking your claws in Peter.

— maybe he already is one — he joked and the funny thing: that was the last thing he remembered of that day. He couldn't remember saying goodbye to you or how he got home. His memories started again with him being home, Laura and Cora were laughing and his mother got closer with a smile and a question: "Everything ok? You seem distracted"

And he had lied to her.

• • •

So, are you Team Peter or Team Derek?

#teen wolf #fanfiction #young derek hale #derek hale x reader #darek hale #young peter Hale #peter hale x you #imagine peter hale #peter hale x reader #peter hale x y/n #derek hale x y/n #derek hale x you #imagine teen wolf

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writers-worst-nightmare · 3 years

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No brains (Dabi x reader)

Ask: Daddy Dabi s/o is a crackhead with zero brain cells

Pairing(s): Dabi x reader

Warning(s): large amounts of cussing (there are lyrics of WAP for most of it what did you expect?), crackhead energy, Dabi just giving up, 18+ themes (minors dni please), deaf Bakugou

A/N: absolutely anon! I would love to do this! (I have so many ideas running through my head rn lol) AND ignore if it says “Aishi” instead of you I got this from my oc x canon fanfiction

Request are always open!

“Hahaha look at your face!!!” You exclaimed, pointing towards Dabi as he tried to open a champion bottle and helplessly failing.

“You wanna try?” Dabi challenged, still struggling to open the bottle.

“No.” You admitted, just when the League couldn’t possibly get any more chaotic the whole bakusquad came.

“SUP BITCHES!” Mina yelled on the top of her lounges, popping open some wine with Denki, Sero, Jiro, and Kirishima following closely behind.

“How the hell did you do that?!” Dabi asked as he finally popped the lid off, the corkscrew went flying in the air and hit Bakugou. Bakugou smacked Dabi across the face and sulked in the corner.

“I don’t need to know sign language to know what that means.” Jiro stated, her index finger flicking in the air like something was going to fall out of the roof on her command. Dabi flipped the purple haired girl off, Jiro rolled her eyes and focused on getting the food out of the way. She gently laid down some pork and smiled at the villains.

“Why the fuck did you bring pork?” Shigeraki asked, finally un-glueing himself from Deku and going right in front of Jirou.

“Pork means good luck and wealth if you eat it on New Years.” Jirou answered carefully.

“We’re going to need that considering that you guys keep attacking us!” Kirishima added, not wanting to be left out on the conversation.

”we attack you guys so much because it’s fun!” Toga cheered, her yellow eyes scanning the bar. “Is Izuku here?” She inquired, Bakugou just the door open and scoffed at Toga’s attitude.

”No, he just jumped out the window.” The ash-blond teased. Toga growled before leaping forward and trying to stab Bakugou, Bakugou skillfully dodged and tripped Toga with his feet. Toga scowled before leaping on top of him, but she was stopped by Dabi holding her torso.

“LET ME AT HIM DABI!!! I’LL TEAR HIM APART!!!” Toga screeched as she tried to get away form his grasp. Dabi rolled his eyes as he held Toga back, bored out of his mind.

“Later.” He responded, chucking Toga on the couch. Toga landed on Spinner and the two then argument amongst themselves.

*later with Y/N*

”Come oooooon!!!” You whined, dragging Dabi out and getting him in the car.

“Champion, you know I love you right?” Dabi asked, you nodded her head as she started the car and buckled yourself in.

“Yep!” You exclaimed, putting a lot of power on the ‘p’ sound.

“But we talked about this…not driving.” Dabi stated more sternly. You rolled your y/e/c eyes and started driving anyway.

***

”Y/N/N YOU ARE GOING TO MAKE ME THROW UP!!!!” Dabi yelled, you shrugged her shoulders as you broke every speed limit there was imaginable.

“Oh look the cops are chasing me.” You commented as you pointed to the back window of the car where several police cars were chasing after Dabi and you.

“OH GOD!!!!” Dabi exclaimed, rolling brown the window and throwing rocks at them.

“Since when do we have rocks in the car?” You inquired, your calm and squeaky voice not even comparing to Dabi’s frantic and deep voice.

“SINCE YOU STARTED DRIVING!!!” Dabi countered, you hummed and started playing “WAP” on full volume as she started singing along.

I said, certified freak Seven days a week Wet-ass pussy Make that pull-out game weak, woo

”y/n you bitch stop singing to tiktok songs and help me!” Dabi begged, you ignored your boyfriends cry for help and kept driving. Pushing the speed limits a little further each time.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, you fucking with some wet-ass pussy Bring a bucket and a mop for this wet-ass pussy Give me everything you got for this wet-ass pussy

You ignored as the cops yelled some gibberish and kept singing. The citizens turned and saw the police-chase, some laughing at you and some joining in on your singing.

Beat it up, nigga, catch a charge Extra large and extra hard Put this pussy right in your face Swipe your nose like a credit card Hop on top, I wanna ride I do a kegel while it's inside Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes This pussy is wet, come take a dive Tie me up like I'm surprised Let's role play, I'll wear a disguise I want you to park that big Mack truck Right in this little garage Make it cream, make me scream

Everyone in the sidewalks soon joined in your singing as the younger teens pulled out their phones and recorded her to put it on their tiktok’s. Dabi was still having a mental break down as he screamed on the top of his lounges that the cops where still after him.

Out in public, make a scene I don't cook, I don't clean But let me tell you how I got this ring (ayy, ayy)

”You where fine at first until you forced me to date you then you showed your true colors.” Dabi answered, everyone in the crowd berth into laughter along with you. Soon, Dabi reluctantly joined in on the singing.

Gobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me Quick, jump out 'fore you let it get inside of me I tell him where to put it, never tell him where I'm 'bout to be I'll run down on him 'fore I have a nigga running me Talk your shit, bite your lip Ask for a car while you ride that dick (while you ride that dick)

the cops started slowing down and the cool cops joined in in on the singing while the grumpy cops yelled at the citizens and threatened to arrest them.

You really ain't never gotta fuck him for a thang He already made his mind up 'fore he came Now get your boots and your coat For this wet-ass pussy He bought a phone just for pictures Of this wet-ass pussy Pay my tuition just to kiss me On this wet-ass pussy Now make it rain if you wanna See some wet-ass pussy

as the chorus came around again everyone sang even louder. Laughter filling the area as they saw the funniest nonsense that belonged to the villains.

Look, I need a hard hitter, I need a deep stroker I need a Henny drinker, I need a weed smoker Not a garden snake, I need a king cobra With a hook in it, hope it lean over He got some money, then that's where I'm headed Pussy A1, just like his credit He got a beard, well, I'm tryna wet it I let him taste it, now he diabetic I don't wanna spit, I wanna gulp I wanna gag, I wanna choke I want you to touch that lil' dangly thing That swing in the back of my throat My head game is fire, punani Dasani It's going in dry and it's coming out soggy I ride on that thang like the cops is behind me I spit on his mic and now he tryna sign me, woo

Everyone practically screamed the ‘dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat’ part, the music from the radio now drowned out by the people who have memorized it word-by-word either eagerly or reluctantly.

Your honor, I'm a freak bitch, handcuffs, leashes Switch my wig, make him feel like he cheating Put him on his knees, give him something to believe in Never lost a fight, but I'm looking for a beating In the food chain, I'm the one that eat ya If he ate my ass, he's a bottom feeder Big D stand for big demeanor I could make you bust before I ever meet ya If it don't hang, then he can't bang You can't hurt my feelings, but I like pain If he fuck me and ask, "Whose is it?" When I ride the dick, I'ma spell my name Ah (whores in this house)

Dabi started recording on his phone while people sang the bridge and sent it to the ‘League Of Villains’ group-chat.

Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, you fucking with some wet-ass pussy Bring a bucket and a mop for this wet-ass pussy Give me everything you got for this wet-ass pussy Now from the top, make it drop That's some wet-ass pussy Now get a bucket and a mop That's some wet-ass pussy I'm talking WAP, WAP, WAP That's some wet-ass pussy Macaroni in a pot That's some wet-ass pussy, huh

As the song came to and ended some people stopped recording but to there kept recording. Dabi got a text from ‘Ash Child’

Ash Child: What the fuck?!

Dabi: y/n started running from the cops and out on this song

Chapstick🧴🧴🧴: I already heard this song enough!

Blood rat 🐀🩸: I said certified freak!

Spinner: That’s it I am removing Toga from the group chat

Blood rat 🐀🩸: but whyyyy

-blood rat🐀🩸 was removed from the group chat-

People starting listening to the blasting radio as the song came to an end.

(There's some whores in this house) (There's some whores in this house)

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colourful-void · 4 years

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WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE LETTERS - a breakdown / theory post for the letters at the end of Enchanting Grom Fright

sO!!! Someone has been sending Luz’s mom letters, pretending to be Luz. Here’s what we can assume so far.

A transcript of the main letter in focus: “Hi, Mom! I am having a great time at camp. Today we learned what mortgages are! I can’t wait to get home and see you. Let’s do lots of fun mother/daughter activities forever and ever. Love, Your Daughter, LUS LUZ.”

There’s also two more letters that are partially obscured. The text I can make out reads as follows:

“Another beautiful day at camp-” before it gets cut off.

and the other said. “Today I made a friend! Friends are the best. He chased a lot of-” The text is cut off, but on the next frame, it appears to end with “birds.”

So, here’s what I can figure out from these letters and the scenes before.

Someone, not Luz, has been sending Luz’s mom letters, pretending to be her, at camp.

This person has sent multiple letters, at least three.

Luz’s mom believes these letters are coming from her.

Luz’s mom enjoys the letters, and keeps them on her bedside.

Luz has no idea the letters exist.

These’s letters are stilted and formal. There is no personality to them, and the tone is very formal.

The writing is neat and tidy, there are no errors except for one.

Whoever wrote these letters wrote Luz’s name wrong. They spelled it L-U-S instead of L-U-Z.

These letters are written in ink, not in pencil, marker, or anything a kid like Luz would use. They also can’t have been written on a computer. (writing is black and smooth, so not a pencil or anything like that, and if this was written on a computer, the misspelling would’ve been deleted, not crossed out)

Luz’s mom is not concerned by the misspelling of Luz’s name.

One of the letters mentions wanting to do mother/daughter activities “forever and ever” which is a bit unsettling imo, especially if the person sending these isn’t Luz.

So who (or what) could be sending these letters? Here’s a couple theories me (and my sister) have thrown together.

A) my personal favourite, it’s the camp. They’re trying to cover themselves because they lost a kid. This explains why the writing is so like that (this camp is basically a brainwashing camp lets be real, so most people would write like that) and why they got Luz's name wrong at first. They would also try and appeal to Luz’s mom, hence the ‘forever and ever’ stuff.

B) it’s king and or eda. problem being a) I dont think they care about Luz’s mom and b) neither of them have a writing style like that, and they know Luz too well to get her name wrong. Not likely, but I figured I should mention it.

C) from my sister, what if there's a second Luz in the human world or like a clone or something. Because the magic is disrupted due to Luz being in the wrong universe, there’s a second Luz at camp. So like a clone of Luz in the Human world and real Luz in the magic world. Clone Luz is sending the letters, which would explain why they sound so formal.

D) my sister has a second theory that these letters are being send subconsciously by Luz because of Magic, twisting things that happened in the demon world to be things that make sense in the Human world. This would explain the letter that appears to be talking about making a friend who chases bird (king!) In that case, then ‘learning about mortgages’ would be Luz wanting to tell her mom about the magic she learned.

There’s also a possibly someone in the magic world (like the emperors coven) is sending them, though I don’t think that’s likely since I don’t think they care about Luz’s mom (or even know her)

That’s all I got for now, if you have theories lemme know!!

#the owl house #the owl house spoilers #toh spoilers #the owl house luz #toh luz #luz noceda #camilia noceda #enchanting grom fright #grom #the owl house theory #the owl house breakdown #the owl house letters

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thetomorrowshow · 3 years

Text

Slower Than Words Ch. 26

First - Previous - Next

Me, writing this chapter: I am going to create a situation that is so awkward,

cw: food

~SHARON~

welcomes you

Remus eyed the sign suspiciously as he drove past. It was set low in the ground, as if it had sunk a bit over time. It didn’t look familiar at all—none of this did. Did he have the wrong place?

Patton shifted a bit in the seat beside him, looking around with interest. They’d reached their destination, after all. Remus couldn’t help but doubt himself. There were other Sharons in the country, after all. Maybe they’d just gone to the wrong one.

Something about this city called to him, sure. But that didn’t mean anything—the cult had called to him too. Remus’s instincts weren’t the best.

He was roused from his thoughts when Patton softly tapped his shoulder. They were passing a grocery store—Save A Lot. It was time for lunch, wasn’t it?

Remus pulled left into the parking lot of the store, which was fairly empty for midday Friday. Only three cars, and a fourth pulling in at the same time as them. Remus parked in between two of the other cars there (mostly because he could) and hopped out, taking a moment to stretch before entering the store. Patton got out too, walking around to the driver’s side while Remus continued to reach toward the sky.

Patton led the way, holding the door open for Remus, who looked up as the bell jingled. An older man waved from behind the counter. A shopper milled about in the nearest aisle. Classic rock played quietly in the background. It was nice, in a weird way. Very peaceful. Very easy.

Pat headed for the bathroom and Remus watched him for a second, before turning down one of the aisles at random. They probably needed some fruit or something. He followed the aisle through to the small produce section on the other side of the store. Another employee leaned against the meat counter on the other side of the section, eyes glued to his phone. Remus froze and stared at him, waiting to be told that he wasn’t allowed back here. Nothing happened.

Remus fully exited the aisle and checked out the fruit. Oranges, apples, different apples, a handful of pineapples. The oranges were the cheapest, and Patton needed citrus too. There was a vitamin in citrus, right? Vitamin D? C?

Whatever it was, he was pretty sure that Patty needed it. He needed every vitamin, actually. Remus picked up an orange, about to pull a plastic bag from the roll.

“Oh my gosh. No way!”

Remus dropped the orange, spinning on his heel and straightening up. His heartrate spiked, breathing quickened, and he stood at attention, keeping his eyes on the linoleum floor.

“Remus?”

He chanced a quick look up, forcing his eyes almost immediately back down. He saw . . . a woman. Young, probably about his age. Tall. A shopping basket over her arm (probably why he hadn’t heard her coming. No squeaky wheels). Smiling. She was completely unfamiliar, but by now the watery reflection of the lights on the floor had gotten into his head where he was. In a grocery store. In his hometown. Not back there.

With effort, Remus wrenched his head up, meeting the woman’s eyes. “H-hey,” he said, clearing his throat. “What’s up?”

“So it is you!” The woman laughed a little. “I haven’t seen you in years. How’re your parents?”

This woman knew him. So he had definitely lived here. But this wasn’t a very big city, and if she knew him, then she had to have known his family, right? Why would she have to ask him how they were? Had they moved away? Cold clutched at his heart as he considered that option. They can’t have. He can’t have lost them before he even found them.

“I-I dunno, just got in town. Haven’t even dropped by yet.”

The woman nodded. “Where do you live now?”

“Other side of the country,” Remus hedged, “Desert-y place.”

“Oh, I grew up in Arizona,” the woman said, almost commiseratingly. “So hot. There were days that I’d just go stick my head in the freezer.”

Remus laughed nervously. “Yep, wish—wish I coulda done that.”

“Mhm. Really, I haven’t seen you since—gosh, since we graduated! You didn’t even come to the graduation itself, I heard that you skipped town practically the day after school got out.”

Okay, someone he’d gone to high school with. Remus remembered being sorta close with the other kids on the soccer teams, but he mostly hung out with the stoner kids to annoy his parents. He couldn’t see how he would know this chick. Maybe they’d been lab partners? Or maybe she’d been someone he hung out with?

The woman seemed to be casting around for something to say, her eyes eventually falling on his face. “Wow, that mustache has really filled out, huh?”

Remus’s hand flew up to smooth it unconsciously. “Yep, this is a couple years’ hard work,” he boasted. The woman chuckled.

“No offense, but it used to be this terrible shrimpy little thing,” she said. “I remember prom night when you picked me up you were all grumpy because your mom made you shave it off. You didn’t even talk to me until we got there!”

Oh shoot.

Oh no.

This was an old girlfriend.

Remus hadn’t dated anyone in years. He’d tried for a while, those first months in the cult. But the gals weren’t interested and the guys were too scared, so he’d given up. He hadn’t really minded it, honestly—he had dated all through high school, but looking back he only did it to make his parents mad. They didn’t want him steady dating until he was an adult, and definitely didn’t want him dating dudes and stoners, so he had done both over and over again between the ages of thirteen and eighteen.

Now, though?

Maybe it was just the cult stuff talking, but Remus wasn’t interested in a partner. The romance part sounded cute (he’d never admit it, but part of him really wanted to curl up with his partner and watch a romcom, teasing each other lightly), but the rest of it sounded like way too much of a hassle. He didn’t have the time, not when he was carrying the load of three different people’s trauma. And while he had a feeling that the commitment might help ground him, he just wasn’t interested in the rest of it. If that made sense. Heck, this was his own head and it didn’t really make sense.

Anyways, he remembered this woman, just a little. Not much about her, or how well they worked together, or if they had truly been in love. He mostly remembered that he had left without breaking up with her, without even telling her goodbye.

“Yeah, I was a terrible kid,” he said, secretly waiting for her to agree with him. Instead she shrugged.

“Sure, you were always hanging out with weird people,” she replied, “but you were very kind. I definitely don’t think we were meant for each other, but I had fun with you.” She winked and Remus almost physically recoiled. He didn’t like when people winked.

A hand tapped his elbow and Remus jolted, turning his head. Patton was there, smirking a little bit.

The woman’s eyes traveled between them, clearly trying to figure out their relationship. “Boyfriends . . . ?”

“Kidnapper and victim,” Remus said, turning back to her fully and smiling toothily. He felt a little bit more in control now. She barely seemed uncomfortable, instead sharing her own smile.

“Right. Well, tell your parents I said hi,” she said, waving slightly. Remus noticed the ring on her wedding finger, but before he could ask, she answered.

“D’you remember Claire, from the swim team?”

Remus opened his mouth to lie, but she continued to talk.

“Well, after you left, she comforted me and helped me decide what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, and the answer turned out to be her!” the woman laughed at her own joke, and Remus laughed along, not quite sure why. It was obviously a practiced line, and he didn’t really find it funny either.

The woman reached out and patted him on the shoulder, a warm look in her eyes. “Seriously, it was great to see you. Everyone was really worried about you, we thought you’d died in some ditch. Take care!” And with that, she was turning down another aisle, quickly out of sight.

“Who was that?” Patton asked as soon as Remus turned to him. The smirk was gone, his eyes now wary.

“A friend from when I was a kid,” Remus signed distractedly, looking at the oranges again. He grabbed two, then a third one just in case and led the way back to the cash registers. On the way he snagged a package of beef jerky, grimacing at the price.

That was the weirdest encounter he’d had, probably ever. At least it was proof that they were in the right place.

“No clue where we are,” Remus sang under his breath, checking the street signs as they passed a church. The area looked vaguely familiar, so that had to mean something, right? Apparently not, because after the grocery store experience, everything looked familiar. He pulled to stop in front of a stop sign, patting Logan’s car as it groaned. For a moment, he let his eyes close and his head rest on the steering wheel.

Patton tapped his arm, waiting for him to look. “Trust your instincts,” he signed, finger-spelling the last word. He smiled softly at Remus, then turned back to the window, pulling the patched hoodie closer around his shoulders. Remus took a deep breath. He could do this. He’d survived a cult. He’d saved a whole kid from the same cult. He was awesome.

Remus took his foot off the brake, letting the car carry him from street to street, waiting for something to happen. If this didn’t work, then he’d go street by street, knocking on every door until he found his parents and brother.

Then, as he turned right in a somewhat busy intersection, his hands spasmed. Muscle memory took over, and he turned right again onto a smaller street. Memories of driving this road far too fast in the darkness of late nights and early morning flooded his mind, overlapping and playing simultaneously. In the memories, he followed this street through, then turned left at the end of it.

So he did, his arms turning the wheel almost without conscious input. Another two turns, and he was Euclid Ave, a street name that made his heart jump into his throat. Just two houses down, there it was.

150 Euclid Ave.

Suddenly, the home phone number was on the tip of his tongue—he’d memorized them together. He recalled his parents, sitting on the sofa, clapping for a miniature version of him reciting the full address and phone number.

He stared at the house so hard stars appeared in his vision, surprised to feel almost nothing. It was familiar of course, just like everything else, but it was also . . . normal. It almost felt like he’d never left. Or like he’d gone back in time, back to when this was right. Back to when this was who he was.

“Home?” Patton asked out loud, the middle of the word slurring a little. Remus’s eyes misted a little bit.

“Yeah,” he managed. “Home.”

Knock-knock-knock.

Remus rocked back onto his heels, shooting a reassuring smile to Patton. He could do this. No sounds came from inside the house, but there were two cars in the driveway, so someone had to be home. Hopefully both were his parents, then he could see everyone together.

But his brother could drive now, right?

They were five years apart. When he’d left, his brother had been in middle school. Now he was probably in college. If he was away at school, he wouldn’t be home right now, would he?

Remus knocked again.

Now there was sound from inside, the creaking of footsteps on floorboards, the running water. Adrenaline suddenly pumped through his veins, and the wild thought of running back to the car crossed his mind. He could get out before they ever knew he was here, just leave and nothing would change.

Did he want it to change?

Click-click. The door unlocked.

Swung open.

Remus composed his face the best he could, trying to smile and look as normal as possible. He could do this. He could do this.

He looked up.

A face, lined, clean-shaven, framed with close-cut dark hair that was greying at the ends. A face that Remus saw from the stage of a talent show, sitting in the audience, smiling and clapping along with his clarinet rendition of Jingle Bells.

The shoulders were broader than Remus ever thought his own would be, proved otherwise by time. Remus saw the shoulders from the closet of his parents’ room, where occasionally on Sunday afternoons the boy was allowed to try on suit coats that swallowed him completely.

The left hand had a simple silver band, one that Remus could see resting on the aluminum foil ring holder he’d made in class as a Father’s Day present. He’d always been afraid that it would catch his fingers when they played the hand stacking game.

Remus’s eyes traveled back up the arm, the shoulder, the neck, the face, back to the eyes. Blue, almost grey, a color that neither he nor his brother had inherited.

“Hey dad,” he croaked. “I'm home.”

The eyes widened.

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hopeaterart · 3 years

Text

PMTOK HORROR AU: INTRO

LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOO! Nearly four thousand words! (I’m trying to get back into writing, so if you guys want to see another part of the games translated into the Horror AU, send me an ask!)

The circle was completed.

The Craftsman took a deep breath, raising up and putting the vial of Blue Paint on his nightstand. The blue lines were glowing slightly on his floor, the circle just big enough for one person.

Good enough for him, it was an emergency anyway. The Sailor was already too late by a few days. He walked to it’s middle, bit his thumb, and let the blood drip upon the lines. They glowed brighter. “Flipflopside.” He muttered, and his world was engulfed in blue.

When colors came back to him, he was at the gate of the town. He entered town, and sighed as he recognized the decorations all around. Had circumstances been better, this festival would’ve been Olly’s first exposure to the outside world.

But Olly having disappeared a week ago, along with some very important supplies, was the reason the Craftsman had scrambled to gather and create the necessary blue paint to teleport.

He stopped at the town square. Where... was everyone? He frowned at all the decorations strewn around. It was like an hurricane had gone through town. He groaned in exasperation, before continuing his way toward the Lady’s Castle. If the town was having problems, then she would be too busy to offer help with finding his son.

He... honestly doubted anyone would’ve been generous enough to help in the first place, which is why he had prepared arguments about why his worry over his son going missing wasn’t just a parent thing (which it wasn’t, but it was the main reason, and they didn’t need to know that), but rumors had it that the current human lord- or in this case, lady- was a generous and kind one.

Yeah, if she was anything like her uncle, then he wasn’t holding onto hope.

He finally arrived to it’s front door, knocking once. He was expecting to have to knock more, and then for someone to come open the door. Instead, the door grinded open, having obviously been left as such. He hummed in concern, looking around, before entering, on-guard.

And just as he entered, the door slammed behind him, making him jump. He hurriedly turned back toward it, trying to open it again in vain. Door locked. He groaned in exasperation. He was getting rusty.

He slowly walked through the corridor, his footsteps echoing around him as he looked around. The place was strangely... dark and silent. For some reason, he felt like he was the only one there. He reached the end of the corridor, opening another door (this one properly closed, but not locked) and arrived at what he could only assume was the lobby.

The door at the top of the stairs opened, and out came the Lady. Long blonde hair, dark skin, and pink eyes... yep, no doubt, it was her, even if there was something... off about her that he wasn’t sure he could place. He had never formally met her, after all.

“How good... to see you...” She said in a discordant voice, and that immediately squashed any doubts the Craftsman had about this being her normal self. There was, at least, hypnosis involved.

“Answer me this... shouldn’t this miserable kingdom be unfolded... and be refolded unto glory?...” He shook his head, a hand reaching into his apron to get his paper scoring tool, the sharper end gleaming like a shiv. Better safe then sorry.

“And what of those... humans?” The venom dripping from her voice surprised him, even if he wasn’t a fan of other humans himself. “Shouldn’t they be silenced forever?” Oh, he didn’t like were this was going. Whoever was pulling the strings on her, they were the kind of scum that would make even the former Count recoil in horror.

“... I see... Last question.” She started as he grind his teeth together. “Will you crease yourself and be reborn, like me-”

“Lady of humans,” He started as he took a step forward. She didn’t react at that, freezing and keeping lifeless pink eyes on him. “You’re not in your right mind right now. Please, let me try to undo whatever magic is making you act like this-”

“Wrong answer.” She started, and the Craftsman realized he had made a mistake. “Right answer. It matters not.” She said, tilting her head in a stilted manner that exposed her shoulder and the thick silver lines on it. No doubt, powerful binding magic was at work. “Your replies are all paper thin.”

The floor suddenly opened under him, a discordant goodbye accompanying the fall. And then his world was wrapped in pain and darkness.

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on a cold ground, and five faces -or at least what he assumed where faces, what’s with the loss of his glasses- were looking down on him. “Oh, he’s waking up, he’s waking up!” One of them said, making the four others back up as he sat up.

He blinked, blurry. “Have any of you seen my glasses?” He asked. “They’re round with black frames. Their lenses are thick, and they have a retainer with purple and yellow beads.” The retainer was especially important to him, a reminder of the only relationship he remembered fondly. “If any of you are well-versed in magic, they’re also imbued with some pretty powerful protection spells.”

“Is that why they didn’t break?” Someone asked, handing him an object that shone under the dingy dungeons light.

He nodded, taking them in hand on pushing them up his nose. “Yes, thank you.” He then blinked as he regained vision, and looked around. All of those people... “You’re all monsters?”

One of them flinched at that, while another took a defensive stance. “Is that a problem, old man?”

“No, of course not.” He answered, bringing his knees to his chest. “If anything, I sympathize more with monsters than humans. We’re terrible.”

One of the monsters, who looked pretty young, came nearer. “So you don’t hate us?”

The Craftsman chuckled, patting the little plant monster’s head. “When you get my age, you don’t have much energy left for hating everything in sight. So I keep it for people who are truly deserving.” Like the chucklefuck who broke into his home, kidnapped Olly, stole most of his magical supplies and half of his Origami ones.

Suddenly, the door opened. More monsters, but those ones moving just as stiffly as the Lady earlier, entered. “Come with us...” The one standing at the front, who wore a ancient demon mask, ordered. The Craftsman got up, groaning as some of his bones popped, as everyone exited the room. He was about to follow them, when the masked monster held a hand up. Restrained fury was radiating off of the monster. “Not you.”

And just like that, he was alone again. He sighed, sitting down on the ground. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? The wall over there seemed pretty brittle...

He got up the inspect it, gently dragging his palm across it. Hello? A little voice suddenly asked, making him jump back in surprise. Oh no, please don’t leave! It said again. Was it coming... from the wall?

He caressed the wall again, frowning. “Are you... trapped inside?” He asked, feeling dimensional magic weaved into the wall.

Oh, yes I am! The voice of the young girl started again. I’m in a very strange place, like I’m trapped in-between dimensions!

“You will be delighted to hear to your situation is nowhere that severe, then.” He snarked. “You’re merely the victim of a dimensional spell. Nothing that can’t be broken.”

Really!? The voice exclaimed, it’s (her?) happiness evident. I think there’s some Paint nearby, could you use it to draw a magic circle? I can use my own magic for the rest. He hummed non-committedly as he got up, heading for the boxes pilled in a corner.

After a strong enough push, they toppled, their content spilling. Mostly empty vials of Paint, beside one that seemed to hold enough for one circle. But more importantly, a crack in the wall that was big enough for him to slip through if he tried was there. But just as he was about to leave, the little voice made itself known again. You... you’re not leaving, are you? She asked in a tearful tone.

He stayed frozen for a moment, before groaning in exasperation and turning back toward the wall. He quickly made his way there, emptying the vial over his fingers and drawing a circle around himself. It then started glowing a golden color, the image of a hand appearing within it. “Shapeshifting magic, uh?” He picked at the wound on his finger, opening it again and letting blood drip once more.

The Craftsman watched, bewildered, as his arms flattened and folded like accordions. He then gathered himself, and ripped the wall away, shaking his arm back to normal as whoever was trapped in the wall detached herself. “Whoo! I’m finally free from the wall!” She exclaimed cheerfully as the Craftsman’s eyes widened in disbelief. Blonde hair, golden hair, the hat with two points... and those eyes... “Hi, my name’s Olivia! You-”

“I know who you are, girl.” The Craftsman interrupted, bringing a hand up. “I’m the one who designed you.” That seemed to shock her, her hat flying of her head as her eyes sifted sizes.

“What!?”

“And I must admit, whoever folded you did an excellent job. Almost makes me jealous.” He wasn’t jealous, but fucking furious, but not at her, and that wasn’t important right now.

“But- you- I-”

“Look, for now, let’s focus on getting out of here before those guys come back, alright?” He proposed, grabbing Olivia’s small hand and squeezing them gently. She nodded, an adorably determined pout on her face as they went through the secret passage. “Stay behind me, don’t make a noise, and above all else, do not tell anyone your name, got it?”

Olivia nodded, following the Craftsman as they slipped through the crack. They quickly walked out of the cell, both of their eyes shifting around to make sure no one was coming. The corridor seemed closed off, magic keeping the dungeon isolated from the rest of the castle.

“Unhand me!” As they heard a voice come from the other room, they quickly hid amongst the boxes near said room. The Craftsman flushed himself against the wall near a small crack, chuckling to himself as Olivia imitated him, before peering inside

The sight of the notorious Count folded into what was basically a wet floor sign would’ve made the Craftsman laugh if it wasn’t for the implications behind the type of magic needed to restrain him. There was also the fact that he was being held up by multiple clothespin, and the shadows. Two of the deformed monsters were holding up another above their head, the creature obviously struggling.

And then it stopped moving, almost flattened as it was folded, powerful magic shifting and contorting it’s body. And then it was brought to a truly humongous shadow, a beast that opened it’s mouth with a mechanical sound. The outline of two sharp fangs was visible as the poor soul was placed within it’s mouth. And then...

KA-CHICK

The Craftsman looked away just as the beast closed it’s mouth, a metallic sound similar to the one of a stapler stapling sounding out. Well, at least he knew where that binding magic came from now, and where one of his supplies went. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to enchant a stapler!?

Poor Olivia was shivering in fear next to him, and he offered her a hand to hold just as the door opened. A horde of monsters, the last one being the demon-mask wearing one, got out. “Alright.” He started. “That was the last of them. Now, there’s only that old bastard left...”

As they left the corridor to go “fetch” him, he quickly made his way inside the room, relieved to find the door unlocked with Olivia still holding his hand. He made his way to the folded up Count, who had a miserable expression on his face. “Sir?” He asked.

The Count opened his red eyes. “Oh, a human!” He exclaimed, a surprised lilt to his voice. “My apologies, with all the chaos happening around here, I forgot that my beloved’s castle was on human grounds.”

“Your beloved’s castle is the middle of Flipflopside.” The Craftsman remarked with a raised eyebrow as he neared, taking the clothespins off. “If she wanted to live amongst humans, this wouldn’t be the place.”

“Ah, touché...” The Count commented as he fell to the ground, quickly figuring out a way to move. He then turned toward Olivia with squinted, and she squeaked. “And this young lady would be...?”

“My daughter.” The Craftsman hissed, not missing the sudden animosity in the Count’s tone.

To his credit, the Count immediately backed off. “... My apologies. Now, I do believe there’s another exit here,” he started, turning toward the other end of the room “but it’s hidden by an illusion spell. I would dispel it myself, but...” He shuffled a bit.

“I’m on it!” Olivia cheerfully declared, floating up to the wall and gently caressing it. Immediately, the surface fell away into Paint particles (which the Count was quick to waddle to and absorb, no doubt he wanted to collect enough magic to try and break out of his binds) as the young girl turned toward the two men.

The Craftsman nodded in approval as Count congratulated her, waddling up to her. “Incredible job, miss! Now, we can get out!” Olivia beamed, bouncing up and down in the air to a rhythm only she could hear as they made their way to a spiral staircase.

Just before they started climbing, the folded monster turned toward the Craftsman. The older man frowned. “What?”

“You have a very talented daughter.” The Count answered him as he started making his way up the stairs as fast as his body let him. The Craftsman smiled to himself.

“I know.” He started making his way up the stairs, Olivia’s hand back in his, when he noticed that she seemed unfocused. He stopped. “Is there a problem, girl?” He asked, turning toward her.

The younger girl looked up at .him, smiling. “I’m your daughter?”

A few seconds, then a shrug. “If you want to be,” He wasn’t the one who had folded her, but he was the one who had made the initial plan and cut out a piece of his soul for her, and he couldn’t be much worse than Olly’s kidnapper.

They finally made it back outside, the Craftsman shielding his eyes from the sudden light. They walked along the long balcony for a bit, until another door opened. Out walked the monster from earlier, the one with the demon mask, and the Lady. He heard the Count gasp behind him.

“Why are you still so... flat?” The brainwashed woman asked him. “Why won’t you join me in folded glory...” She weakly reached her hands out to them. “Come, we can reshape you...” The fear shining through her eyes was yelling at them to run, run as far as you can, and never turn back.

The Craftsman was very tempted to follow that message, ready to grab Olivia and jump over the balcony fence, before the masked monster opened their mouth. “Patience, Lady. This will do just fine. So...” They turned toward the Craftsman. “Why did you come to this castle, Craftsman?”

His eyes narrowed, pulling the paper scorer out again. “Someone stole what’s mine. I came here to ask help to get it back.” And it seems I’ve found my thief.

The masked monster made a sneering sound. “Is that how you see your son? A mere possession?”

“Wha- don’t talk about what you don’t know!” The Craftsman snapped, hand tightening around the tool in his hand.

“... Last chance, Craftsman.” The monster started. “Volunteer yourself to my cause, and let me fold you into something greater. Simple offer. Yes, or no.” The only thing that stopped the old man from going ‘go fuck yourself’ was Olivia’s presence. He instead shook his head. “Of course, I didn’t expect any less. And I wouldn’t have it any other way...” The monster snapped his fingers.

Another mind-controlled monster came into view. The Craftsman recognized him as one of the monsters from earlier. The Count snarled behind him, a surge of powerful magic catching him off-guard. “What have you done to my people!?”

“Folding them to my will. Look at your precious Lady.” The monster started, gesturing to her. “She’s better this way, don’t you think.” The only answer was a hiss. “Now...” The mask-wearing monster turned back toward the Craftsman, one violet eye glowing. “Prepare to be Folded!”

The monster jumped the Craftsman, hissing and snarling. Caught off-guard, he went down like a sack of potato, falling on his back and barely keeping the monster off-of him. He dropped the scorer, weakly moving his legs as his arms came up to hold the monster’s claws away from him. Olivia gasped in horror. “Dad!”

“Wait, miss.” The Count started as he watched the Craftsman successfully move one of his hand to the monster’s throat. “I do believe that your father as the situation in hand.”

The Craftsman continued to hold the monster away from him, his hand tightening around his throat, before grabbing the paper scorer and stabbing the monster through his eye. Dark purple blood stained his hand as a pained noise came out of the monster, the scorer getting wringed out.

The monster was then knee-d into the stomach, the Craftsman successfully throwing the monster off of him and over the fence. He got back up, groaning and doing his best to ignore Olivia’s horrified look. “Is that all you got?” He asked the masked monster, who sighed.

“Of course, how stupid of me. You did go by Mercenary when you were younger.” The masked monster noted as he started floating ominously. “I suppose there’s no point in maintaining this charade any longer...”

The monster shook, his arms raising in the air, before suddenly flattening and unfolding. Colors faded away as the illusion spell was uncast, revealing violets and yellows as a little boy wearing a crown revealed himself. The Craftsman’s eyes widened in disbelief, the Count made a noise of confusion, and Olivia gasped. “BROTHER!”

No... no, no, no, NO! It couldn’t be... “Wh- what are you doing here?” The Craftsman asked, putting his scorer back in his apron as Olivia started shaking.

“Please, brother...” She sobbed. “How many times have I told you you needed to stop? Please! You can’t do this!”

The boy simply sighed. “Why couldn’t the Craftsman have simply left you in that wall where I put you... Sister, I am afraid that if you stand in the way of my ambition, we will not be able to share my glory as family.”

“Brother-”

“I am not your brother anymore.” He stated, flipping his hair. “I am KING OLLY!” He then floated up and out of reach, floating in the sky as he cast a disdainful look to Flipflopside. “By the time I’m done, all those miserable humans will be folded... and those flimsy monster subjects shall be reborn as Folded Soldiers, serving me!” He then turned his look upon the Craftsman and Olivia. “And I shall fold, crease and bend this world to my whim... the birth of an Origami Kingdom!”

Olly snapped his fingers, a bright violet light emanating from his hand. It took a moment for the Craftsman to realize that was a signal, but he quickly dragged Olivia to the floor when he realized. And just in time too, as something yellow and charged with magic razed right past where his head used to be a second ago.

He quickly got up, scanning his surroundings as Olivia held onto him for dear life, the Count screeching right behind him. Streams of binding magic surrounded them, all controlled by Olly, all coming from different directions. “Follow me, you two!” The Count yelled over the rush of magic, hopping on the fence and then on a lower part of the roof. The Craftsman quickly followed him, hand tight around Olivia’s.

“GRA-BLAGH!” The Craftsman turned toward the voice, confused as he saw what was possibly one of the ugliest man he’s ever seen come to them at high speed in a rocket-propelled hot-hair balloon. The Count quickly jumped in, followed by the Craftsman and Olivia. “A’m ‘ere, Count!”

“Thank you, Warrior.” The Count started, smiling for what was probably the first time today. The Craftsman decided to give them as much privacy as he could as he turned toward the Lady’s castle.

There was five streams of magic in total. The red one came from the North, the blue one East, the yellow one South, and the purple one West. As for the green one, it seemed to come from the clouds. They seemed to take material form as they tightened over the castle, similar to shiny ribbons.

To his horror, the Castle was then ripped right off of the ground, the stone floors breaking away with it as it was lifted in the hair and above them. He blankly registered something lilac and yellow falling off of the castle as the other man with them (the Warrior, he thinks?) and the Count shrieked.

He sat on the floor, Olivia joining him and hugging him close as the Warrior yelled something incomprehensible. They then felt the machine machine shake. “What’s going on?” He asked the Count, who had slid next to them.

“They magic streams ur giein’ use some problems.” The Warrior answered for him. “Sae hing oan tiiiiIIAAAAAH!” The machine had collided with the red ribbon, making the Craftsman, Olivia and the Count fly out, with only the last one getting caught by the Warrior. He then tried to reach for the other two, but they were already too far away.

And as they fell, the Craftsman could only look as the ribbons carried the castle away. He closed his eyes as he saw it being placed upon the top of the dormant Sulfur Crater, a single thought circling in his head.

What the fuck did I get myself into this time!?

#writing #My writing #pmtok #pmtok horror au #pmtok olivia #king olly #origami craftsman #count bleck #lady timpani #paper mario #Paper Mario The Origami King #tw violence #tw blood #tw death

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oikawa-tuwu · 3 years

Text

🍬 Halloween Candy 🍬

Pairing: Gn!Reader x Tendou Satori

Rating: T

Synopsis: Tendou watches you make Halloween candy and thinks about love and the joys Halloween. Post-time skip, established relationship. (1.8k words)

Warnings: One swear, mentions of past bullying, dealing with insecurity things

(A/N: lol remember when I said I was going on hiatus?? Yeah so I was making hard candy last night and was literally slaughtered in the middle of boiling the sugar when I remembered that Tendou is a chocolatier so my lonely, Halloween-loving, and candy making self wrote this self indulgent thing. Enjoy, but its kind of a mess D: )

Tendou Satori’s favorite holiday is, without a doubt, Halloween.

There’s nothing quite like the buzz in the air of a brisk October 31st, children in costumes, ready to consume ungodly amounts of sugar, teenagers giggling as they leave a haunted house, only to turn right around with more cash in hand. Even adults get into the festivities, using the holiday as an excuse to drink copious amount of booze.

Its indulgent and its creepy and Tendou loves it with all of his heart.

In the past, if someone were to ask him why he liked Halloween so much, he'd just laugh and say he had a sweet tooth, because really, he didn't know how to articulate the joy that he gets from costumes. He could remember, as a kid, gleefully skipping down the aisles of a shop, flipping through the mass produced costumes on the rack until he found the perfect one.

The ones that came with masks were always a plus, too.

He supposes, looking back on it, Halloween was his favorite holiday because it was the one day where being “creepy” benefited him. It was on-brand, in-season, like the pecan pies that sit neglected in the summer months before being sold out by mid-November. And even if his hair or his gaze or his height was still terrifying, it was easier to hide behind a Batman mask. Perhaps it wasn’t a healthy way of coping, but somewhere along the way, he’d learned. He’d grown, and shifted, and costumes weren’t his favorite part of Halloween anymore.

No. This is his favorite part of Halloween. The build up to the day in question, preparing for the hordes of children coming to his apartment door, and you, standing in his kitchen, holding a candy thermometer.

It had been your idea at first, to make the candy at home and give it to the trick or treaters, rather than just handing out store bought. Of course, getting homemade candy from a stranger is usually a red-flag for parents, but not if said stranger is a somewhat C-list celebrity chocolatier, as you so kindly put it.

And it was true. There was some hesitation at first, but after a moment of putting together his face, the name on his apartment door, and the clearly professional design on the bags, parents were much more willing to accept the treats. Now, it’s a tradition of the apartment complex, and last year, he ran out of candy by 7 PM.

“You need to make more next year,” you had said, with a sort of confident finality that made him laugh. “Don’t you feel bad for the kids who got there just a little late?”

Did he feel bad?

Now that was an interesting question.

The thing was, he had been that kid. He’d gotten the short straw in life and it had been up to him to make something of it, even when others decided to cut the straw even shorter just for fun.

With an amused glint in his eye, he watches as you lean down, narrowing your eyes to read the fine print of instructions on your phone.

The kitchen is a mess, there’s no way around it, and although he’s deemed you proficient enough to be trusted with his equipment based on your past attempts at culinary efforts, he can tell you feel out of your league as you stir the molten sugar. Your cheeks are flushed from the heat and he’s certain there’s a few more hairs sticking out of place than there were ten minutes ago. Still, you square your shoulders and crack your knuckles as you read the temperatures, one oven mitt armored hand bracing the handle of the pot, and he idly thinks that the apron is officially his favorite piece of clothing on you.

Apparently, you didn't hear the door open and close, because your eyes are still trained on the soon-to-be caramel, and you let out a frustrated, "Why won't this sugar caramelize already?"

"It's stubborn like that."

He always expects you to jump at his voice. Somehow, you never do. Instead, your eyes flick up to him where he hovers in the entry-way, the barest of a smile gracing your lips.

"Welcome home," you say, pulling your eyes away from him to peek at the candy thermometer's temperature. "I feel like this sugar has been at 240° for way too long, is that normal?"

Tendou clicks his tongue, daring to venture further into the candy coated mess. "You have to be patient."

"Funny, coming from you," you smirk, but he notices the way the tension in your shoulders relax, and deep down, he knows he doesn't have the fight to even try to feel offended.

Still, he scoffs and leans against the counter next to you and puts the effort into looking offended, one hand fingering through the petals of the dying roses in a vase. "I'll have you know, I'm a very patient person."

You just give him a look. That look, specifically, with the skeptical eyebrow and wry tilt in the corner of your mouth. The look that always managed to see right through him, reaching in and sorting through each and every memory and quirk and thought and yet still managed to say I love you at the end of the night with a genuine smile.

Tendou knows you. He knows you, understands you, memorized the posture of your sleep deprivation, the quick bite of your words when you wait too long to eat dinner, the strange laugh that, to be honest, sounds more like a car backfiring, when a joke catches you particularly off your guard.

But also, on a much deeper level, he didn't understand you at all.

Why had you chosen him? Was it for the same reason you brought those half-dead roses home, saying, with a self-conscious flush, that they looked sad, dying all alone in the shop.

Was he those flowers? Bruised and beat-up and something to take pity on?

"You're too quiet," you muse, and Tendou realizes that he had been too quiet for much too long, the only sounds coming from the boiling sugar and the soft music playing over a speaker in the corner. "What's wrong?"

He doesn't know how to phrase his insecurities out loud like that, doesn't know if he even should, so instead, he asks, "Am I the roses?"

For a moment, you're silent, and he can see the way you're processing his words, toying with them until you figure out whatever metaphor or inside joke he's referencing. "I would say you're more of a lily guy, if that's what you're asking."

His next question is more blunt. "Why do you like me?"

This one surprises you. He can tell from the way you blink, just once, but also the slight curvature of your eyebrows. He wonders how long it's been since this expression was used in reaction to him.

"I don't understand," you say, finally. "Love and attraction are virtually indescribable emotions that poets and writers spend their lives trying to capture. I don't know why, exactly, but I do know that I enjoy being around you. You make me laugh, and my heart feels happy when I see you walk through that door. Isn't that enough?"

It should be, but Tendou has bad impulse control, and he can't stop the next words from falling out.

"But I'm weird."

The word weird sounds trivial. Weird is the word that girls who dye their hair and listen to indie music and post cryptic pictures on Instagram call themselves, not him. Maybe freak would have been a better word.

"And I don't like the sound of my laugh. We've all got insecurities, things that the rest of the world doesn't like about us so they force us to not like it about us. I know my voice is fine and there's nothing particularly ugly or abnormal about it when I giggle, but I can't help from hating it."

"I like your laugh," he says, and by speaking it aloud, he knows it's true, like whispering a spell that only makes him fall more in love.

"Exactly. And I like you. Weird bits and all. Keeps things interesting."

And just like that, it's gone. It shouldn't be this easy, to dismiss his fears like that, just a few confident words and a smile and suddenly years of his childhood and upbringing are null in comparison to you.

The sugar boils.

As he watches, you leave the almost-caramel on the stove to search for the pan to put it in to cool, already greased and ready for the molten sugar. It's a significantly bigger pan than last year.

When you notice his gaze, you say, "I wasn't joking about making more this year."

Tendou grins.

In high school, Ushijima briefly had a girlfriend. A cheerleader, if Tendou was remembering correctly. He wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't, he didn't pay much attention to her. But, one day, he walked past the gym and found the two of them. Ushijima was teaching her how to serve. Now, Tendou knew Ushijima was a strange person. The only thing he cared about was volleyball and his comically stoic, social ineptitude is what bonded them in the first place, but still, Tendou remembered thinking that bringing your date on your day off to play volleyball was really weird.

But, he supposed, now he understood, as one of your hands reached over to clasp his, the other, still stirring the sugar. He understood before that want, no, the need to share a passion with the one you love.

He squeezes your hand. Absent-mindedly, you squeeze back. And then he squeezes back and you squeeze back and back and forth and back and forth, until you realize the temperature hit the blessed 340° and now you're swearing like it's a prayer, oven mitt hand clasping the pot handle and pouring and hoping it didn't actually burn and-

The candies last until 8 PM this year.

He watches you hand the last one over to a kid dressed like some vaguely tropey children's superhero, watches that soft smile slowly warning whatever chill leeches in from the open door.

A wave and a nod to the child's mother later, you slowly shut the door, grin lingering still moments later. You turn to him, that determined gleam in your eye, and say, "We're making more next year."

Tendou laughs. "Fuck no."

But then you smile again, and he knows he can't say no, and, internally, he's already working on a timeline to get all the candy ready by the 31st.

And for some reason, the only thing he can think of is the we in your statement, and it cuts right into his heart faster than a knife as you pull him close and the words just seem to slip out faster than a well-greased cake pan.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

(A/N: Happy Halloween, nerds. Nowwww back to hiatus)

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!!#hq tendou #tendou x reader #tendou x you #tendou scenario #layne writes

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talpup · 4 years

Text

Lost Song:10

Summary: The war between the Dragons and Griffons ended 233 years ago, and both races right along with it.

Or so it was believed. There are three individuals that will soon change that.

Kai is the last of the Dragons and he seeks to take what he sees as his rightful place and rule over all of Oblvi. Meanwhile, Shouta, the last Sphinx, wants nothing more than to do his job; keep the peace and and teach the young Fourth’s to hopefully avoid the mistakes of their ancestors. And Teris, a Foundling who is just trying to understand and survive in this strange new world that is supposedly her own.

All three have their own wants and desires, but Kai’s plans, Teris’ existence, and Shouta's past mean that none of them may get what they want.

This fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers. For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Notes: Flashbacks/memories are in italics. I decided to give Pops a name. Ryuu. For those of you who haven't read BNHA Vigilantes. His Purple Highness is a character from there.

10.1

Shouta entered the library of his Ilca dorm carrying a stack of essay’s to grade. His student's complained every time he assigned them homework. As if they alone suffered. If anything, they had it easy. They only had to write a single paper. Where as he had to grade them all. He set down the pile and frowned at the top page. ...And try to decipher Kaminari’s handwriting, he thought with a tired sigh.

Shouta shuffled the Venti-High Elf’s essay with its chaotic scrawl to the bottom of the pile and sat down. At least he had the next few nights off from patrol. Though it was doubtful he would get any rest from the time off. Not with members of the Council arriving and the truth of Teris being a griffon needing to be guarded. If anything, he’d probably get even less sleep than usual.

The thought of Teris had Shouta reaching into his pants pocket in search of the item he had been carrying around for two days. His hesitance was illogical and had to end. With Elders of the Council arriving later this evening, he could no longer stall. He had to give Teris the gift today.

A soft humming growl reverberated in Shouta’s chest. Not gift, he corrected himself. Why did he keep on thinking of the thing as a gift?

He growled again at the other, far more crucial failing on his part. With the Council Elders arriving this evening, Shouta should've given the thing to Teris this morning. But the infuriating woman had had been spoiling for a fight. And with the little sleep he had invaded by dreams of her. Shouta, in his irritation, had given in and snapped back. Because of that he had held off giving Teris the bracelet. He couldn’t say why, but he didn’t want to give her the gift in anger. It’s not a gift, Shouta told himself inner voice stern in it’s scolding. It’s a necessary thing for her protection.

Shouta entered Nedzu’s office. “You wanted to see me.”

“Yes. Please come in and have a seat. We have a concerning issue. Tea?” The Director of Traverseen Hall offered.

Shouta sat before the Hybrid’s desk and shook his head. When Nedzu didn’t even make himself a cup, Shouta realized just how serious the matter was.

“I’ve been informed that some Elders of the Council will be coming to Traverseen Hall. They wish to see the Foundling’s.” Nedzu said.

The heckles on the back of Shouta’s neck rose in protective aggression and worry. “Teris… There a those on the Council that will know her for a griffon at first scent.”

Nedzu nodded. “I’m aware. It’s not an easy thing to tell a Fourth's species by scent alone, especially when both parties are in human form. But there are those on the Council who were high ranking in the Griffon Court and dealt with griffons often and closely enough to know Teris is one at first whiff. While a few others would be able to do the same, having specialized in hunting and stalking out griffon locations for the dragons. If one such Elder is part of the group that’s coming. I fear there is little we could do to stop them from taking Teris before the panel. And we both know what that would mean.”

Shouta's chin ducked, teeth baring in a snarl that was hidden by his capture weapon. Teris was his. He would end anyone who dared tried to take her from him.

Nedzu went on. “It’s why I called you here. I’m aware the Dryad King found a small library of books near where he discovered you. And that he kept those books secret from the Council, gifting them to you as your inheritance as the last Sphinx. I was hoping somewhere in that small portion of what remained of the vast stores of Sphinx knowledge is something that could assist us in this.”

Shouta had barely been able to focus on teaching his class that day. When the school day finally ended he had filed out quicker than his student's. He had missed dinner and evening lesson with Hizashi and Teris. Having called in a favor with Nemuri to cover his patrol, Shouta had spent a sleepless night locked in his chambers scouring the books in his personal armory for something to help. An hour before sunrise, he had found a solution. If he combined a specifically forged charm and overlayed a certain spell on it… The following night had been another sleepless one.

An echoing clang of metal hitting metal sounded from deep within the bowels of Traverseen Hall. Even in the middle of winter the furnace room was as hot and sweltering as hell. The place was windowless and dark. The sole light of the furnace fire throwing long flickering shadows.

Tired and slick with sweat, Shouta set down the hammer and examined the layered mix of salted iron and shining silver. He pushed back his plastered hair and wiped the sweat from his brow with a leather gloved hand. One more turn in the fire and a few more hits of the hammer, and the charm would be complete.

The cuff bracelet he was making could've been made from of any metal. It definitely would've been easier and far quicker if he opted not to blend two separate metals. But given the dangers Teris would face on the patrols she and Hizashi would go on with him, Shouta found it illogical to waste the opportunity to add other layers of protection.

Sweat rolling down his bare chest, Shouta smiled, pleased with how the gift was turning out. He frown at the cuff. Why did he keep thinking of it as a gift? It wasn’t a gift. It was a necessity. He wasn’t doing this to court Teris. He was doing it because the Council was coming and Teris needed protection from being sniffed out as a griffon. Him making this thing had nothing to do with his care for her. He had no care for her. The only reason he was doing this was because it was his responsibility as Ilca leader to see both Teris and Hizashi protected.

Shouta didn’t dare ask himself if he would’ve put the same amount of time and effort into making the item look perfect and pleasing if it were for Hizashi's protection instead of Teris’. Shouta did his best not to examine his thoughts where Teris was concerned. Why would he? Teris was an annoyance he’d rather not think about at all.

Black pants hanging low on his hips, Shouta stepped back to the fire. It was cathartic to thrust the confounded item he kept thinking of as a gift into the blaze.

Humans might’ve needed protection against the furnaces heat and sparks. But even in human form Shouta didn’t have to worry about such things. The only thing he had to worry about was getting this right the first time. While he had enough material in the stores of his personal armory to make the gift. He only had enough for one attempt.

Shouta turned the long tongs, evenly heating the salted iron and sliver. More strands of inky black hair fell from the messy bun. The escaped dark waves clung to his face and neck. Sweat sizzled on his body and evaporated. It rolled down his chest and pooled in his navel then continued on and caught in the dark trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.

Thoroughly heated, Shouta pulled the red hot metal from the flame and returned it to the anvil. The firelight highlighted the rolling muscles of Shouta's back as he took up the hammer and lifted it. He brought it down with a clank and mass of sparks.

With the charm forged he now had to place the overlaying spell on it. But something made him pause. The charmed bracelet would muddle the scent of the wearer’s species. While the spell would stop the charm from interfering with the wearer’s personal scent. It meant that Teris would still smell like herself; but she wouldn’t smell like a griffon. But what if one of the coming Council members were so familiar with griffons that muddling the smell of Teris’ species wasn’t enough?

If he added a few strands from his mane. No. The underlying scent of a Fourth’s species became stronger and much more prominent in their true form. Such a powerful scent of hereditary marker would garner attention in itself. But if he were to add some hair from his human form, the charmed bracelet would carry and muddle his species scent along with Teris’.

Shouta hummed, pleased at the thought of Teris having a part of him so close. He frowned. What kind of silly youngling thought was that? Why would he even want Teris to keep a part of him close when he couldn’t stand and didn’t want to be near her? Growling, Shouta blamed his exhaustion. He rubbed his tired eyes and read over the instructions for making the charm to be sure the addition of his hair would work. Satisfied that it would, he pulled the tie holding his hair back. The dark, sweat drenched locks fell with a plop.

He smirked at the thought of how Teris would react if she knew she would be wearing his unwashed hair around her wrist. But it was more than a petty vengeance. His beastly scent would be more potent this way.

Shouta reached up and sectioned out a bit of hair from the nape of his neck. Mind wandering back to the thought of Teris keeping a part of him close, Shouta carefully braided the strands unaware of the smile that crept onto his face.

Shouta stared down at the bracelet in his hand. Like all creators he easily picked out every minute flaw in his creation. Even though he had been careful in braiding, and selected the best portion of the strand to use. His critical eye found the braid sloppy. It’s weave marginally tighter at one end of the cuff and looser at the other.

At least he had done a bit better with the actual metal work. The layers sandwiched silver and salted iron so thin a Fourth would have to be in their true form and squinting to see them. The cuff looked like one solid piece. The salted iron giving it a charcoal color. While the silver gave it a sheen. His braided hair looked like a decorative black metal detail. And with the charm finished, its spell set in place, it may as well have been. Even in their true form, only a small handful of Fourth's would be able to see it as the hair it truly was.

Shouta ran a calloused thumb over the bracelet. He wondered if Teris would like it. The clock in the great room chimed the hour. Teris would soon be returning from her lessons with Kai. A slight nervous excitement bubbled up inside him. He scolded himself. This wasn't a courting gift. It was something he had to do protect Teris from the Council.

What if she did more than not like it? What if Teris rejected it? Maybe he should have Hizashi give it to her. Teris would surely be more accepting of the bracelet if given from Hizashi instead of him. A low growl rumbled in Shouta’s chest at the thought of Hizashi giving Teris the gift he had worked so hard on.

Shouta stared at the bracelet and sighed. Truth is getting harder and harder to ignore, he thought. He shook his head and told himself to shut up.

It’s an illogical waste of time and energy to continue attempting to deny the truth, his inner voice continued. You’ll have to face the fact of it sooner or later. Why this stubborn insistence on delaying the inevitable?

I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shouta told himself.

Stop trying to convince yourself otherwise. Just admit that you want her, his voice of reason sounded. This blatant denial of facts is childish and doesn’t suit you.

I don’t want her. I can barely stand her, Shouta argued with himself.

Then why worry if she’ll like the cuff and accept it?

You’re right, he told himself. It’s a necessity not a gift. As her Ilca leader, I’ll simply order Teris to wear the thing.

That’ll certainly warm her to you and win her favor, his inner voice taunted.

What do I care if Teris warms to me, he thought.

You did proposition her with seeking release, he told himself.

That was simply so I wouldn’t have to go to Nemuri. It’s not like I asked Teris to mate or be companions, he reasoned.

You wanted to though, his voice of reason pressed.

No. I didn’t, Shouta thought getting annoyed with himself.

You were disappointed when Teris turned down your offer of release.

Release, he thought. There’s no feelings involved with that.

There can be, his rational side argued.

Yeah, well, there wouldn’t have been if Teris accepted, he told himself.

You should ask her again, he thought. With her around you’ll be needing release more often. You need it now. No doubt she’s needs it too. Maybe after you give her this gift…

The main door to the dorm opened drawing Shouta’s attention and ending his inner argument. He rose to his feet and exited the library. The sight of Teris made him pause. She was beautiful. Lips slightly swollen and redder than usual. The ends of her hair damp and wetting her shirt. Wait… The smell of sex carried across the great room and assaulted his nose.

Shouta growled, heckles rising. The light excitement he had felt upon seeing Teris darkened and disappeared. His heart clenched. Chest aching as if physically wounded. Incisors lengthening Shouta pressed teeth painfully together, trying to get himself under control. The image of biting down and ripping Kai’s throat out danced in his mind along with other far less desirable scenes of Teris and Kai together.

A faint burning red mixed and tinted his charcoal colored eyes. He was kill the Dragon for taking what was his.

She’s not yours, his inner voice of reason taunted. You don’t even want her. Remember?

Right, Shouta gruffly thought. He had no interest in Teris. No desire to take and claim her and make her his. She was free to seek release with whomever she pleased. The only reason it mattered to him was because Teris was a griffon and Kai a dragon. That was why he was upset. No. Not even upset. Just concerned. As Teris’ Ilca leader, it was his duty to protect her. And Teris had just unknowingly put herself in further danger by seeking release with Kai.

Teris’ nerves were still on edge from the encounter with the red winged man. Relief instantly filled her at the sight of Shouta. His presence alone made her feel safe and secure. Shouta would know what to do and how to deal the winged man.

Teris rushed across the room to him. “Shouta--”

Shouta stepped back with a hard blowing exhale. The smell of sex and Kai on her was too much to handle. He couldn’t bare it. He shoved the bracelet at her, letting go without a care if Teris had a grasp on it or not. “For you.”

Teris fumbled with the item thrust at her. She didn’t even look at it. “Okay. But first--”

Shouta made his way to the still open door. He needed to get away from the stench of Kai and sex on her.

“Shouta! Where are you going? I need--”

“I don’t care what you need. Either deal with it yourself. Or wait till I get back.”

Teris stared after him, hurt and angry by his dismissal. She wanted to ask when he’d be back. Wanted to yell and demand he stay and listen.

Shouta slammed the door behind him.

Teris jumped, startled by the resounded sound. Left alone with her worry and growing anger.

10.2

Even after a long hot shower Kai was still upset he hadn’t been able to bring Teris back to his rooms and properly tend to her. Though she had assured him she was fine with a quick cleansing dip in the hot springs, he had wanted. Needed. To do more. It was his own propensity for cleanliness, mixed with the instinct to care for his chosen mate that had left him angry and distressed about his inability to properly tend to her.

Next time, Kai thought as he buttoned up his shirt. Next time he would show Teris what a good, caring attentive mate he would make her.

His cock stirred at the memory of Teris beneath him. The feel of her tight silken heat was something he would never forget and couldn’t wait to feel again. His eyes closed remembering the way she had moaned and cried out his name. He frowned recalling how she hadn’t been blushing or nervous at the start. Even in the heat of the moment with beastly instincts running high from the chase Teris hadn’t behaved like a virgin.

A growl bubbled in his chest. It was cut short by a knock at his chambers door.

“Enter.” Kai called, tightening his tie in place.

The door opened revealing Hari. “Master Ryuu has been seen on his way. He will be here shortly.”

“All work has been stopped?” Kai questioned, wanting to make sure.

Hari nodded. “All work ended late last night, just as you ordered. The Ilca has informed your followers to cease and conceal all doings until they have been told it is safe to begin again.”

“Good.” Much as Kai hated having to pause his efforts to reclaim the lost Dragon throne. Continuing them while members of the Council were here would be reckless and foolish. Especially when one of the visiting Council members was the man that had found his egg and raised him.

Kai exited his room and walked down the long hall. Hari turned and followed a respectful half-step behind the Dragon.

“I hope it’s alright. I took it upon myself to order the Ilca to busy themselves elsewhere this evening.” Hari said.

“Excellent. There’s no reason for them to meet Ryuu anyway.” Kai’s eyes slid to Hari. “Though if they do happen to find themselves in his presence they are to show him every level of respect.”

Hari nodded. “Of course, Sir. Master Ryuu is the reason you are here to give us purpose and hope. He deserves the utmost respect for that. I will make sure the Ilca knows it.”

“He’s a kind man who might suggest you stay with us. But we both know you have work to do. So after I introduce you, take your leave. Understood.”

“Yes, Sir.”

A knock on the door sounded just as they reached the great room. Hari quickened his steps to answer.

“Master Ryuu. It’s an honor.” Hari bowed. “Please. Come in.”

Ryuu looked about the Ilca dorm. The space seemed to expand and contract, perspective changing in direct response to his focus. He had known Traverseen Hall had been built by some of the most powerful Dwarf clans a thousand or so years before the rise and rule of Dragons and Griffons. But that didn’t make it any less impressive to finally see the ancient and powerful magic the place was imbued with.

“Do you ever walk around in your true form in here?” Ryuu questioned, a desire to try himself welling up. As a Tengu, his true forms size wasn’t hugely different from his human form. Still, to see and experience how the space altered to accommodate the change…

“That would be unseemly. You raised me better than that.” Kai said.

Ryuu’s eyes fixed and focused on the Dragon. A warm smile sprung to life. “Kai. My boy.” He looked the young Dragon over. “Not such a boy anymore. Look at you.”

Kai cleared his throat, glad for Hari’s preemptive removal of the rest of his Ilca.

Ryuu smirked and glanced out of the corner of his eye at Hari. “I’ve embarrassed him. He was never good with being fawned over. Now praise. That’s a different matter entirely. Kai’s never had any issues with being told how smart and special he is.”

Hari ducked his head and looked away, uncomfortable. He could feel Kai’s molten eyes on him. Judging and waiting for reaction.

After a brief moment, Kai spoke. “This is Hari. My second.”

Well aware Kai was subtly telling him ‘enough’, Ryuu inclined his head. “And I’m sure Kai’s told you all about me.”

Hari bowed again. “Master Ryuu. It is an honor.”

“You already said that my boy. Are you looking to make this old Tengu blush?”

Kai felt the beginning of a growl at Ryuu’s informal address. It didn’t matter whether Ryuu had called Hari ‘my boy’ because the Tengu already felt a warm favor toward him. Or simply because Hari was introduced as his second. Kai didn’t like it. Ryuu was his mentor. Hari his second. His things didn’t converse or bond without his say.

Even though the Ilca dorm was empty save for them, Kai extended a hand toward one of the private sitting rooms. “Shall we sit.”

Ryuu nodded and stepped in the direction Kai had gestured. He stopped when Hari bowed and turned away. “You’re not joining us?”

“He has work to do.” Kai answered for him.

“Ah. Of that I am far too familiar with. Even here work follows me.” Ryuu said, entering the sitting room.

Kai paused, respectfully waiting for the Tengu to sit first. “If I may ask. What brings you here?”

Ryuu’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “They didn’t tell you?”

Kai stared across the coffee table. A tight tenuous smile graced his lips. “I am rarely told anything.”

Ryuu chest lifted and fell in a sad silent sigh. He wasn’t some deluded old man that thought if people were more kind and welcoming Kai wouldn’t being looking to reclaim his throne. But he liked to believe that Kai would’ve softened and responded if he was treated with less guarded animosity simply for being a dragon. And yes, Ryuu was aware of Kai’s plans to claim the lost dragon throne. Even if Ryuu’s clan of spies hadn’t reported hearing such whispers. He knew Kai too well having raised him.

“We are here to meet the Foundlings.” Ryuu said, speaking of himself and the other Council members he arrived at Traverseen Hall with.

Kai blinked, pretending this was news. Just because that Rat Director hadn’t informed him of anything didn’t mean his wasn’t fully aware of things. He simply had wanted Ryuu to be the first to bring Teris up.

“I was charged with the females Foundling’s instruction.” Kai said.

A proud smile tugged at Ryuu’s lips. “So I’ve been told. What can you tell me of her?”

Kai took in a breath, resting forearms on knees.

Ryuu’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly noting a subtle change in Kai’s expression.

“She’s smart. Clever and capable. Eager to learn and able to retain what she’s read or been told.” Kai could go on forever talking about Teris’ desirable attributes. But he didn’t want to appear like a lovesick fool.

“High praise coming from you.” Ryuu commented. And it was true. Kai was a hard man to please.

Wanting his mentor to properly meet and get to know his chosen mate, Kai offered. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing her during tomorrow’s gathering. But if you wish, I could have her join us for dinner tomorrow evening.”

Thinking of the reason he and the others were here, Ryuu nodded. “I would like that.”

Kai inclined his head. Glad to have his plans so easily set. Now all he had to do was invite Teris who would surely and readily agree.

Oblvi Facts 1

(aka info dump cause I’m a lazy writer who’s not making the effort to fit this seamlessly into the fic)

A bit about Dryads:

Dryads of Oblvi were one of the first earth Spirits in existence. Like Venti, they are elementals. Though not the Elemental of earth.

They are ruled by either a king or queen. Their current ruler, His Purple Highness, is also an Elder on the Council. His reign as King began 380yrs into the 867yrs Dragon-Griffon war. And he has ruled as the Dryad King for a total of 711yrs.

Dryad’s do not mate/bond. It is against their nature and something they are incapable of doing. Occasionally Dryad’s will take on or become companions with one or more Fourth’s. But as a whole they simply seek and provide other Fourth's with release. Unmated Fourth's or those lacking a companion will often seek a Dryad out for release. Though not compelled by their nature or some order to accept a Fourth seeking release. A Dryad will rarely, if ever, turn the seeking Fourth away. Release/sex is not needed for a Dryad to live. But it does provide many benefits to the Dryad, their home tree, and consequently surrounding flora.

A Dryad’s home tree is the tree they were born from. It more than houses their soul. It is their soul. The only way a Dryad can be away from their home tree for more than a day is by taking and carrying a cutting of their home tree. Even then, if the cutting were removed for whatever reason the Dryad would weaken, wither, and die sooner than the usual day they could survive away from their home tree. This is why the chosen Piece of Their Person for all Dryad’s is a cutting from their home tree.

Since a Dryad’s home tree is their soul, the physical and emotional state of a Dryad will effect their home tree. This is most noticeable when having sex. As a Dryad’s arousal heightens flower buds will appear on the cutting and home tree. During the act, those buds will grow. Upon orgasm/release the buds will blossom and bloom. The magic imbued within the pollen of a Dryad’s release will carry on the air and spawn a reaction in the surrounding plant life causing those plants to blossom and flower in kind. While it’s not necessary for a Dryad’s sexual partner to orgasm for this to happen. Their partner's release does strengthen the magic in their pollen thus creating and supporting further life in the area surrounding them and their home tree.

10.3

Along with her own personal quarters, Nemuri had a different set of chambers where she took Fourth's seeking release. While she wouldn’t have minded allowing some of her regulars into her personal space. Having separate rooms was all together easier for a number of reason. Not the least of which was the feelings of one of her three companion's.

Poor Sekijiro. Tonight was suppose to be his night. But when Shouta who rarely sought release and always scheduled appointment several days in advance had shown up without one, Nemuri couldn’t send her friend away.

Thankfully she had been the one to answer the door and had been able to tell Sekijiro of their evenings delay without Shouta hearing. Cause let’s face it, Shouta had already been apologizing and trying to leave despite his clear need for release.

The Sphinx's level of control amazed her. As a Beast still early in his prime one would've expected Shouta to come seeking release at least once a week if that little. Yet it had been months since Shouta had last sought her out. And she knew for a fact Shouta didn’t have agreement with anyone else to seek release from.

Speaking of agreements. Along with scheduling before hand, despite Nemuri telling him it wasn’t necessary, Shouta had a list of set rules. Lists of preferences or strict no’s were rather common. But Shouta's list was extensive. Nemuri supposed it was part of Shouta's nature as a Sphinx to want to be prepared for every possible outcome. Never mind his need for control as an apex alpha.

Despite one of his rules being no cuddling after, Shouta always provided other forms of aftercare. It was an unnecessary thing. And most who sought release didn’t do it. If she needed tending after Nemuri had her companion's for that. But whether it was because they were friend's. Or Shouta was simply such a caring lover it bled through even in this professional setting of release. Shouta always asked if she needed anything. If he had tied her up, his calloused hands would smooth over her body seeking out tense muscles or knots to message away.

Shouta hadn’t tied her up this time. There had been no scene to lengthen his release. There hadn’t even been much foreplay. Not that Nemuri was complaining. Shouta always satisfied. And tonight was no different. Already having one orgasm, Nemuri was well on her way to a second.

Panting and sweating Nemuri's nails raked up Shouta's strong arms encouraging him along. She delighted in the way his biceps quivered and rolled under her touch. Shouta growled. His powerful hands gripped her hips, holding her still.

The head of his cock hit that spot inside her. Nemuri threw her head back and moaned. Her sensitive pussy clamping down around his thick pulsing length.

Shouta's hands tightened, fingers digging into Nemuri's flesh, adding a delicious pain to her pleasure. Nemuri moaned again. Shouta’s betraying mind once again wondered what Teris would sound like. His teeth scraped over and bit into his bottom lip wanting to bite at Teris’ tender flesh. He wanted to feel Teris dig her nails into him. Wanted to hear Teris moan and scream his name. He would mark her and claim her as his. Would feast on her lips and…

The cutting of Nemuri's home tree laid at the base of her throat jostling with Shouta's every hard, deep thrust. Three new dark purple buds sprung out near the already blossomed flowers.

“Fuck.” Shouta cursed, thrusts growing ragged and rougher.

Nemuri's back arched, pressing her breast into Shouta's large groping palm. He tweaked and twisted her nipple. She moaned again. The coil within her tightened further making her vision go white.

Shouta's eyes squeezed further shut. Teeth gritted, he shook his head. It wasn’t working. Why wasn’t it working? Balls heavy and tight. Cock throbbing and ready to burst. He was so damn close to cumming. But it wouldn’t happen. Why wouldn’t it happen? Why couldn’t he cum?

Growling, Shouta stopped.

“Wha--” Dazed by her impending orgasm, Nemuri lifted her head.

“Sorry.” Shouta mumbled.

Despite the set rules Shouta had about no kissing or touching of the face or lips, Nemuri reached out to cup his handsome face. It was an instinct born of desire to help her friend and happened without thought.

Shouta jerked his head back. He grabbed her wrist and pulled it away. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you.”

Shouta let her go and pulled his cock out of her wet heat. He rose to his knees, chest rumbling with a noise of disapproval. Deep voice stern, Shouta shook his head. “No. You know I’m not looking for connection or affection. Merely release. Nothing more.”

Arousal fading, the purple buds on Nemuri's piece withered and fell away leaving only the blossomed flowers from her first orgasm. “I’m well aware. I just thought that with everything going on you might need something more to help you along.”

“Going against the boundaries I set isn’t going to make me less tired or distracted by the Council’s presence.” Shouta said, face expressionless.

Nemuri blinked rapidly eyes rolling in her head. Is that the excuse he was going with? They both knew full well him being tired and distracted had nothing to do with it. Still, he was right about her crossing a line. It didn’t matter how pure or earnest her reasoning was. It had been unprofessional and wrong.

“I’m sorry. I overstepped. It won’t happen again.” Nemuri said.

Shouta gave a curt nod of forgiveness, the matter over and forgotten the moment she said it wouldn’t happen again.

Nemuri propped herself up on elbows. Her piece fell safely between her breasts. The cutting of her home tree hanging by a smooth, shining cord of black leather. “But if you ever want to properly kiss or allow the touching of faces. I would be okay with it.” She shrugged. “Who knows? It might make what you were imagining feel more real.”

Shouta's eyes sharpened. The rest of his face an expressionless mask. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not offended. Plenty of Fourth's seeking release close their eyes and pretend to be with someone they favor.”

“My eyes were closed because I’m tired.” Shouta said.

“So you were falling asleep while fucking me? Now that would offend me.”

Shouta sat on his haunches and sighed. He knew Nemuri had been close and felt guilty for leaving her in want. “I could finger or go down on you.”

Nemuri smiled gently. Shouta was such a sweet, caring person. Not that many knew it. Seeing only the cold hard exterior of indifference Shouta displayed to protect himself. “You already gave me one release. This was for you, Shouta. What’s going on? Why couldn’t you finish?”

Irrational as it was Shouta refused to accept the known facts on why a Fourth was unable to finish. He rose up and moved from between Nemuri's legs to sit on the edge of the bed. “This arrangement works because it’s of benefit to both of us.”

“This arrangement works because you tell yourself it’s of benefit to both of us.”

Shouta looked back at her.

Nemuri sat up and shrugged a shoulder. “It’s true and you know it. Even if I didn’t have three companions. There are countless others who regularly provide me with release when they seek it for themselves.” She looked over Shouta's strong, naked frame and smiled. “Not that release with you isn’t some of the best I have.”

Shouta huffed. He shook his head and looked away. Wavy dark hair fell across his face hiding the light blush Nemuri's praise evoked.

Nemuri got out of bed and slipped on a robe. “So what’s the matter?”

Shouta took the tissues she offered him and wiped his softening cock clean of her arousal. “Just tired.”

Well aware of the same facts Shouta was blatantly ignoring, Nemuri challenged. “You’ve been tired before and always finished.”

Shouta tossed the tissues in the bedside trashcan and reached for his clothes.

“Does it have anything to do with a certain member of your Ilca?” Nemuri pressed.

Shouta’s head snapped back to her. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Nemuri smirked at the Sphinx's furrowed brows and bared teeth.

Fingers fumbling with his pants zipper, Shouta muttered. “This has absolutely nothing to do with Teris.”

“Who said anything about Teris? I was talking about Hizashi.”

Shouta's eyes narrowed. He didn’t need to see Nemuri's dancing blue eyes to know the Dryad was toying with him. He could hear the smirking tease in her tone. “This has nothing to do with anyone.”

“Fine. But I’m here if you need to talk.” Nemuri sighed.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Shouta brusquely pulled on his long sleeve shirt.

“As you say.”

Shouta suddenly softened. “Sorry. I didn’t check. You need anything. Water? Warm towel? I could draw you a bath.”

Nemuri smiled in thanks. “No, Sweetie. I’m good. Just gonna take a quick shower and meet Sekijiro.”

“Alright then.” Shouta turned and made for the door.

Nemuri opened her mouth to ask one more time if he was alright, but stopped. There was only one reason why a Fourth in their prime wouldn’t be able to finish. Shouta knew that just as well as she. If he wasn’t ready to admit to it there was little she could do to help. At least at the moment.

Shouta walked through the long hallway of Nemuri's Ilca dorm. Lost in thought it took him a moment to register Sekijiro’s presence.

Waiting for Nemuri to finish with her unexpected caller, Sekijiro had left the doors to his rooms open. It was bad enough he had to suffer sharing Nemuri with her two other companion's. Never mind the Fourth's that continually called on her for release. But tonight was suppose to be his night alone with her.

Having heard Shouta exit the hated chambers Nemuri used for those seeking release, Sekijiro moved to stand in the doorway of his quarters. The smell Nemuri and sex on the Sphinx invaded his nostrils. His red eyes glowed. A deep, dangerous growl echoed through the long hallway.

Sekijiro would’ve thought that as a beast Shouta would understand. Or at least have sympathy for his situation. It wasn’t as if the Sphinx didn’t know about his predicament. Badly kept secret that it was. There wasn’t a single Fourth in Traverseen Hall, aside from the student's, who wasn’t aware Sekijiro was emotional mated to Nemuri. That as hers and hers alone Sekijiro couldn’t have sought release elsewhere. Even if he wanted to it would've been useless. He wouldn’t have been able to finish.

Shouta inclined his head in stiff greeting as he passed. “Kan.”

“Aizawa.” Sekijiro growled out between clenched teeth.

Bad as Shouta had felt for Sekijiro. He had seen it as the mans own fault for falling in love with Nemuri when Dryad’s were incapable of mating. It had struck him as irrational that Sekijiro had let his feelings grow to the point that the Vampuric Gargoyle was essentially one-sidedly mated. That was until tonight. Until Shouta discovered first hand that no matter the effort you didn’t always have a say in who you fell in love with.

10.4

Teris had grown more and more furious as time progressed. How dare Shouta leave like that when she needed him. Of course Hizashi, ever the peacemaker between her and the ill-tempered Sphinx, had tried to soothe her anger saying Shouta was probably on edge about the Council’s arrival. So what? For some reason everyone at Traverseen Hall was on edge about the Council’s arrival. Far as Teris saw it that didn’t excuse Shouta’s behavior. Kai never would’ve ignored her and walked out like that. Kai would've listened and…

Teris shivered. She had never seen Kai act violently. But something told her the Dragon was more than capable of doing so. She pushed aside the foreboding feeling and inner knowledge that she never would've gone to Kai about the winged mans kiss, and continued pacing the great room.

She hadn’t told Hizashi about the encounter with the strange winged Fourth either. Hizashi had only stopped by the dorm to change and get ready for his date with Oboro. Teris hadn’t want to ruin his time by worrying him. Or worse have Hizashi call off the date to stay with her until Shouta returned.

It wasn’t really that big a deal. Angry as Teris was about the unwanted kiss. It had been the look in mans eyes that truly disturbed her. The sharp dissecting gaze that seemed to pierce deeper than skin and bone. Like she was some sort of puzzle to examined and solved.

Teris unconsciously rubbed the bracelet Shouta had given her. The act brought a calming comfort. Her muscles relaxed then tightened when she caught herself. Teris growled and pulled her hand away from her right wrist. A petulant urge to take the thing off welled up inside her. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Why had Shouta given it to her? More like threw at her, Teris thought with a huff. ”For you.” Shouta's gruff words as he thrust the bracelet toward her replayed in her mind.

Teris looked down at the bracelet for the hundredth time. Not overly large or ornate, it held a reserved, subtle beauty. Her fingers traced over the braiding wondering what metal had been used for the decorative detail. The thing was flawless. Certainly the finest piece of jewelry she had ever owned.

With another growl, Teris made for the door. Waiting around here was driving her crazy. The night was nice. Maybe a stroll would take her mind off everything. Besides, the last thing she wanted was for Shouta to return and discover she had been waiting for him.

Teris opened the door and walked straight into the Sphinx. She crashed into Shouta's solid chest and stumbled back a step. Strong arms wrapped around and steadied her. The smell of sex and someone she vaguely recognized as Shouta's fellow Ilca leader friend Nemuri burned her nostrils.

Face an inch from hers, Shouta stared into Teris’ wide eyes. Her mouth was slightly open, warm breath ghosting over him. She had showered and changed. The smell of Kai and sex was gone, leaving her scent alone to delight in. Shouta’s humming purr went unnoticed by Teris who pushed and pulled away.

“Get off!” Teris tripped over her feet and stumbled again.

Shouta reached to steady her. Teris slapped his hand away.

“Don’t touch me.” Teris hissed through bared teeth.

A low displeased sound came from Shouta's throat. The known facts were wrong. There was no way he loved this irritating, ungracious woman.

Teris’ gut twisted, heart aching. Was that where Shouta had been? Having sex with Nemuri. Had it been a scheduled meet up for release? Or just something that happened? Both prospects were equally upsetting.

Why, she asked herself. You had sex with Kai only few hours ago. What’s it matter who Shouta seeks release from?

It matters because I was unsettled by that winged man and needed him, Teris thought. Shouta's my Ilca leader. He’s suppose to be there and help in times of trial. If he left in a rush when I needed him just to— Her mind stopped, forcing the abhorrent image of Shouta and Nemuri from her head.

She took shallow breaths through her mouth trying to lessen the sicking stench of sex and Nemuri from invading her senses. Needing fresh air more than ever Teris took off down the hall.

“Teris. Get back here.” Shouta stared after her a moment. When she didn’t stop and return he stormed after her. His longer stride saw him quickly catch up. “Where are you going?”

“Away.” Teris puffed, trying and failing to pull ahead of him.

“It’s late. Get back in the dorm.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“Teris…” Shouta’s hand brushed her arm.

Teris spun right hand swinging out.

Shouta grabbed her wrist before the slap could connect. Teeth bared he pulled Teris to him by the forearm he held. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You! You’re what’s wrong.“ Teris accused, free hand pushing against Shouta’s firm chest.

Shouta stood immovable. His eyebrows knitted together. “Me?”

“You with your face and hair and way you move. That voice that makes me—“ Teris didn't know if she caught and stopped herself. Or stopped because someone was approaching.

“No!” The man approaching complained. “Don’t stop on my account. I just love watching confessions of love. There’s nothing better. Well, there is. But I wouldn’t watch that unless you two invited.”

Shouta stiffened. His eyes darted down to Teris’ wrists. Relief washed over him. She was wearing the bracelet. A warm exhilaration blossomed in his chest. She was wearing the bracelet.

Shouta’s thumb brushed over the metal made warm by its contact with Teris’ wrist. The spell broken when Teris pulled her arm free of his hold and turned on the newcomer.

Shouta did the same. The both of them telling that a there had been no confession of love because neither felt anything of the sort.

The Dryad King smirked at the way the two spoke over each other in their rush to assert their mutual dislike. This era’s youth sure were curious. Why did they insist on making everything so difficult? Granted in his day there had been a war raging. The youth of his time having serious matters to contend with. Still, was this ages young ones that in want of tension and spectacle? Surely they could find meaningful trial elsewhere. Love was suppose to be easy.

Shouta stopped. He frowned at Teris who continued on for a time.

“Your Highness.” Shouta inclined his head to the tall, slender man. “Are you lost?”

The Dryad King placed a manicured hand to his exposed chest. The buttons of his dress shirt undone all the way down to his tailored vest. “I came to see you, Shouta.”

“We’ll be seeing each other at tomorrow’s afternoon gathering.” Shouta said.

The Dryad stepped ever closer. His footfalls eerily silent on the wooden floor. Teris noted the mans apple green shoes perfectly matched his three piece suit down the shining gold embroidery that depicted lush swirling leaves.

His Purple Highness shook his head and sighed in disappointed disapproval. “You’re always so gruff and distant, Shouta. No wonder you and your lady friend are unwilling to accept the truth of your love.” Shouta and Teris opened their mouths but His Purple Highness went on. “It’s been years since we last saw each other. Can you blame me for not wanting to wait to see how the young Sphinx I found and finished raising is getting on?”

Teris turned to Shouta. “This is His Purple Highness?”

Shouta heaved a tired sigh and nodded.

“You’ve hear of me?” A large beaming smile cracked the Dryad King’s face.

Teris looked back at the man and blinked. He was… Different from what she expected. Though she couldn’t really say what she had expected. Certainly not some ostentatiously dressed man wearing a dark purple wizards robe over an impeccably tailored skinny cut suit.

The Dryad wagged a finger at Shouta and tisked in teasing censure. “Have you been sharing story’s of me, Shouta?”

“No.” Shouta deadpanned.

His Purple Highness looked at Teris. “Whatever he’s told you. I swear it’s a hundred times more salacious.”

The man stopped in front of Teris. He held his hand out, knuckles up. Teris quirked a brow. Did the Dryad expect her to kiss his ringed fingers? He was the Dryad King. Maybe it was expected protocol. Kai had never mentioned what to do when faced with a species royal leader. The only time he talked about them was to dismiss and belittle their authority.

She glanced at Shouta for direction. Shouta gave a small, subtle shake of his head.

Relieved, Teris gripped the Dryad’s fingers and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m--”

“It’s you.” His Purple Highness breathed.

With the smell of sex and Nemuri perfuming the air, His Purple Highness hadn’t registered the woman’s scent. But when Teris had moved, her scent had wafted through the air and tickled the Dryad King’s nose. Her scent was warm, fresh, lovely. And the underlying scent of her species… Muddled as it was, His Purple Highness wouldn’t have been able to tell what she was if he hadn’t smelled this particular Griffon before.

It was early spring. Snow still clung to small shaded patches of earth. The Dryad King walked through the forest alone. Nature was a living thing. If left alone for too long it would grow sinister and violent. This forest had been void of life for quite some time. Why? What was warding the lesser creatures away?

His Purple Highness followed his senses. Pulled to the thing that was keeping everything else at bay. Green shoots of new plant life sprung up and spread in his wake. Deep in a cold stone cave he found him. A young Sphinx frozen in time by a Gargoyles stoning spell. The boy was hold something. Clutching it in his hands. His small frame curled around it as if to protect it.

A feather.

Not just any feather.

Stoning spell removed the young Sphinx was slow to wake. It gave the Dryad King time to realize the youngling held a griffon feather. As he plucked the speckled grey and white feather from the Sphinx's tightly balled hands the Griffon’s scent wafted through the air, tickling his nose.

His Purple Highness had hid the feather for Shouta’s safety. Even then it had taken calling in several favors and making countless promises for his fellow Elders on the Council to agree to let the Sphinx live. Even now Shouta was watched. The ax hanging over Shouta's head ready to drop at the first mistake he made.

Eventually Shouta forgot about the feather he had been found clutching to his heart. Yet even without it, the Sphinx had managed to find his Griffon. And with her, the dangers His Purple Highness had tried to protect Shouta from.

Love was suppose to be easy. But that didn’t mean it always was. Sometimes love came with great hazard and difficulty.

This fic will have a LOT more world building than my others. Please feel free to comment or send me an ask if you have any questions.

Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a special thank you to those who have left comments and/or reblogged. They really mean a lot.

Special thank you to @inorganicone2230 who knows of my love for the mythic and encouraged me to start this fic without stressing about the other two I’ve got going. Your friendship means the world to me.

#aizawa shouta #kai chisaki #nemuri kayama #yamada hizashi #kan sekijirou #His Purple Highness #lost song

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zapsoda · 3 years

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Common english mistakes I see native and non native speakers making all the time, and it's understandable some of this just isn't taught very well or at all so yeah here's your lesson: (note: that title was a run-on sentence)

Mistake #1

Adding an apostrophe + s when making something plural (making words plural by adding " 's ")

's is only used for contractions and making things possessive; if you want it to make an uncommon word plural you can usually just add s.

ex. t-shirt's [X] -> t-shirts [✓]

Note: The first one is the correct way to denote possession. For example: if something belongs to the t-shirt you would say "it is the t-shirt's" and that would be correct.

However, there's an exception to this rule. (possibly more, but I can't think of any so just keep this one in mind) When you're trying to pluralize a singular letter (you know like a, b, c, d, etc.) you can add an apostrophe and s to make it plural.

For example: "Her name has too many i's," is technically correct, as much as i loathe it.

gonna put a read more here so this post doesnt clog up your dash

Mistake #2:

There, Their, and They're

Mixing these up is understandable; they're pronounced exactly the fucking same. Here's some tips for remembering the difference.

There: You're talking about a place + it's the answer to the question "where?" See how the spelling is similar? Remember that.

Their: Possessive. It's a pronoun. You bitches are obsessed with pronouns so I don't see a lot of people mixing this one up.

They're: This one's a contraction. It means "they are." Think of the apostrophe as a stand-in for the a. If you aren't trying to say "they are," then they're is not the word you're looking for.

Mistake #3:

Effect and Affect

I'm gonna be real this one still trips me up and I curse the name of whoever decided it would be a good idea to make two words with damn near the same meaning also be spelled damn near exactly the same way.

Effect is a noun and affect is a verb (which means it can also be used as an infinitive, participle, and a gerund, making this even more confusing)

If something is going to take effect you use the one that starts with e. If something is affecting you, you use the one that starts with a.

The a in affect is for active/action. The e in effect is for god knows what.

If someone's getting teary eyed at an elvis performance you'd say they're affected by the performance. If you're talking about some stupid phenomenon like the coriolis effect or the butterfly effect you use the one with an e.

To affect is "to have an influence on something" or "to touch someone emotionally" (yeah, i know)

Effect is the influence or change in question. (I think technically effect can be used as a verb in a similar way to affect but I don't have a fucking clue how that works and I'm not gonna get into it)

Anyways, this list is a work in progress and I suppose I'll add on to it as I notice more common mistakes. (Side note: I'm pretty sure that way of using "anyways" is incorrect but Merriam-Webster will have to pry it out of my cold dead hands if she wants me to stop using it like that.)

I'm really not sure how else to explain it and I feel like this explanation is inadequate so if anyone else understands this better than me and wants to add on, please feel free.

Mistake #4

Breath and Breathe

Breath is a noun and breathe is a verb.

Breath: the stuff going in and out of your lungs.

Breathe: respiration; the thing you do where you inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide.

The confusion here probably comes from the fact that you take the e off when you make it present tense. To remember the difference think of the e in breathe as standing for exertion (y'know since you're exerting yourself by breathing, in a way), or maybe because the e makes the vowels sound like "ee" instead of "eh."

#i went back through and fixed my capitalization for you #you motherfuckers better be grateful everybody say ''thank you jasper''#english tips #writing tips #studyblr #what fucking ever #jd stfu

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randomvarious · 4 years

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The Sugarhill Gang - “Rapper’s Delight” The Best Rap Album of All Time Song released in 1979. Compilation released in 1999. Hip Hop

“Rapper’s Delight” by The Sugarhill Gang is the most important song in the history of hip hop music. Period. It was the genre’s first commercial record and it sold millions of copies around the world. It suddenly introduced white people and everyone outside of the tri-state area, as well as countless people in other countries, to a Bronx-born, organic subculture whose popularity had previously grown through mostly word-of-mouth. It’s not the first hip hop song ever recorded (that honor belongs to “King Tim III (Personality Jock)” by The Fatback Band), but historians unanimously agree that it is indeed the genre’s runner-up record. And without its commercial success, hip hop might have only become a late 70s-early 80s New York fad, only to be cherished by its small set of original participants and Pitchfork-reading hipster types who wax nostalgic about those halcyon CBGB’s and Max’s Kansas City days where the city’s various strains of new wave, glam rock, punk, art punk, no wave, and the like all converged.

But I’m here to tell you that this iconic song, the one that made hip hop a viable commercial enterprise and enabled it to eventually become the biggest music genre on the planet, is actually a total fraud. And that’s for a couple reasons. Now, before you go all Rocko lavender hippo lady on me, let me just say that “Rapper’s Delight” is by no means a bad song. In fact, it’s one of the greatest songs ever made. But it was a total fucking cash grab, too; an absolute sellout record. And that’s ironic because, for a genre that’s had so many insufferable purists who bristle at the idea of inauthenticity (full disclosure: I was one of those people), they have no problem with calling this song an indispensable piece of “real” and “true” hip hop music.

Let me explain some hip hop history, first though.

Hip hop culture began in the south Bronx in the summer of 1973, about a full six years before “Rapper’s Delight” came out. It was started by a DJ from Jamaica named Kool Herc. Herc is the genius who figured out how to isolate the instrumental break on a record and extend it by having two copies of the record and lining up the second one to start after the break from the first one finished. This allowed people to dance to the same beat for extended periods of time, which gave birth to breakdancing and dance battles. Another thing the extension of the break enabled was rapping. Rapping came out of toasting, a Jamaican DJ tradition in which the DJ would bust out a nifty and rhythmic, spoken-word rhyme, often shouting out someone of note who was in attendance. But then that eventually morphed into an extended series of rhymes, which gave way to the MC.

Rapping at that point was largely a poetic, improvised stream-of-consciousness. MCs would rap for minutes on end, displaying their mental dexterity as they would do their best to keep on beat and try to make sense while rhyming the last word of each line with the next.

That’s where Sylvia Robinson comes into this story. Robinson was an R&B / soul / funk / disco artist and producer who had appeared plenty of times on the R&B charts and landed a top-three national hit with “Pillow Talk” in 1973. In 1979, she started her own label, Sugar Hill Records, which would become the most important hip hop label in the early part of the next decade. Robinson’s first interaction with rapping didn’t come inside a Bronx club or at a Bronx block party though. It was instead at her niece’s birthday party in Harlem, where DJ Lovebug Starski was doing a bit of call-and-response with his audience.

From The Independent:

"The DJ [was talking] over the music, and the kids were going crazy. He would say something like, 'Throw your hands [up in] the air' and they'd do it," she recalled. "All of a sudden, something said [to me]: 'Put something like that on a record, and it will be the biggest thing you ever had'. I didn't even know you called it rap."

At first, Robinson had no takers. No rapper or DJ she approached thought making a hip hop record was a good idea. It was just a fun thing people did at parties. It wasn’t something that would ever end up being profitable. According to cultural critic Harry Allen, when Chuck D of Public Enemy first heard that rap was going to be put on records, he asked, “'How are you going to put three hours on a record?' Because that's the way MCs used to rhyme. They'd just rhyme and rhyme and rhyme for hours."

But Robinson would eventually find some people to rap on a record. It’s unclear whether or not it was her son or her herself who initially found the first member of her rap group, but it happened at a pizza shop in Englewood, New Jersey, where Big Bank Hank was spotted rapping while working his shift. Robinson then brought Hank out in front of the parlor to audition. The next member, Master Gee, would then audition in her car, followed by Wonder Mike. Robinson couldn’t decide which rapper she liked most, so she decided to sign all of them. And thus, the Sugarhill Gang was born.

However, it should be noted that Big Bank Hank, Master Gee, and Wonder Mike were absolute nobodies at the time. They weren’t serious MCs or DJs. The guys who had been putting it down since hip hop’s inception like Kool Herc, Afrika Bambaataa, Grandmaster Flash, and Kool DJ AJ had never had these guys rap on their stages before. They were total amateurs.

But Robinson didn’t care and not long after she signed them, “Rapper’s Delight” came to fruition. The #1 song in the country at the time happened to be Chic’s “Good Times,” and coincidentally, it was also a superb beat for rapping over. Robinson probably thought that using an uber popular instrumental for her rap record would move units, too, and ultimately, she would be proven right. She enlisted a funk band called Positive Force to recreate the “Good Times” instrumental, and, incredibly, they and the Sugarhill Gang pumped out “Rapper’s Delight” in a single nineteen-minute take. There were no lyrical flubs and no mistakes by any of the players. It was an amazingly efficient use of studio time.

That nineteen minutes was then pared down to 14:30 and the recording was pressed to wax and then went to sale. However, “Rapper’s Delight” failed to catch on at first. Radio DJs were reticent to play such a ridiculously long song and hip hop party DJs had no idea who the Sugarhill Gang was. But once a radio version was cut, which is the version I’ve posted today, the record got radio play, which then translated to immense record sales. It made the Billboard Hot 100, peaking at #36, while hitting #4 on the R&B chart. And it became an even bigger hit outside of the U.S., reaching the top-five all across Europe, Canada, and South Africa. It also sold literally millions of records. The second hip hop song to ever be recorded for commercial purposes was a suddenly and completely unexpected global phenomenon. Hip hop had hit the big time.

But outside of the fact that this monstrous song was clearly a mere ploy to make money and was actually not an organic piece of Bronx-bred hip hop culture, there was even more fraudulence to it. Big Bank Hank, the second MC to grace the track, actually stole all of his verses from another rapper, the legend Grandmaster Caz. Caz was a member of a foundational hip hop group called The Cold Crush Brothers, who were known to rap at parties in the Bronx. Hank offered to become Caz’s manager and took out a loan to upgrade Cold Crush’s soundsystem. Then, to pay off that loan, he got a job at the pizza shop that he was eventually discovered in. But when he was seen rapping while working and was quickly auditioned afterwards, he used Caz’s lyrics. So, when Hank introduces himself on “Rapper’s Delight” with, “I’m the C-A-S-A, the N-O-V-A, and the rest is F-L-Y,” know he is spelling out one of Grandmaster Caz’s nicknames, and without his permission. And to this day, Caz hasn’t seen a single dime from “Rapper’s Delight”’s sales. Criminal shit.

But in the grand scheme of things, despite that bad sleight on Caz and the ultimate motive to record the song, “Rapper’s Delight” is still, by absolute happenstance, a masterpiece. It’s not just one of the first hip hop records, but it’s just so infectiously fun. But because of how fun it is, another thing that apparently pissed off other rappers at the time was that the song wasn’t about anything important. A lot of rappers were angry at the conditions in which they lived and they thought it was lame that a bunch of outsiders had cashed in on their artform while not even channeling any of the south Bronx’s inner rage. But a few years later, Grandmaster Flash and The Furious Five would release hip hop’s second unmitigated classic, “The Message,” a socially conscious-painted picture of the South Bronx. And it was released on, funnily enough, Sugar Hill Records.

There’s a moral or something to this story somewhere. Without the selling out and without Big Bank Hank’s lyrical theft, who knows where hip hop culture would be today? “Rapper’s Delight” sure wasn’t made for the purest of reasons, but it exposed hip hop music, and then eventually the actual authentic Bronx culture, to the entire world. Had Sylvia Robinson not seen dollar signs in this fun and unique party gimmick, would Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five or Afrika Bambaataa or Kurtis Blow become household names? Would hip hop ever be sold commercially? Would the following, more lyrical Def Jam wave with acts like Run-D.M.C. and LL Cool J ever happen? And then would N.W.A happen or the Native Tongues posse with A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, Busta Rhymes, Queen Latifah, and Black Sheep? I could go on, but you get the picture.

#hip hop #hip hop music #rap #rap music #old school hip hop #old school rap #music #70s #70s music #70's #70's music #70s hip hop #70's hip hop #70s rap #70's rap

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kaialone · 4 years

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Spirit Tracks Translation Comparison: Character Names

In this post I will cover how the names of notable characters were changed in the English versions of The Legend of Zelda Spirit Tracks.

Like many Zelda characters, the ones introduced in Spirit Tracks are connected by common naming themes. Specifically, most of the major characters in this game have names that relate to trains.

With such pun-based names in particular, the localization may choose to adapt or even change the names in ways that make them more appealing to the target audience.

And that's exactly what happened with Spirit Tracks, so let's have a look at them.

With each of these I will list the character's English name, as well as my romanization of their Japanese name, and then explain the origin of both.

Note that my romanizations won't always match the respective literal romanizations, depending on the name's origin.

The Lokomo:

Anjean = Sharin

Anjean's Japanese name is シャリン/Sharin.

It's taken from 車輪/sharin, which means "wheel".

Her English name is derived from the word "engine".

Gage = Valve

Gage's Japanese name is バルブ/Barubu.

It's taken directly from the Japanese spelling of the English word "valve", so the most logical thing is to romanize it as "Valve".

His English name is taken directly from the word "gage".

Steem = Stym

Steem's Japanese name is スチム/Suchimu.

It's taken from the Japanese spelling of the English word "steam", スチーム/Suchīmu, with the long-vowel mark "ー" removed. This means the vowel is short instead of long.

To get the short vowel across, I personally like to romanize this name as "Stym" (rhymes with "gym".)

His English name is derived from "steam" as well, following the same idea of being an altered spelling of the original word.

Carben = Senrin

Carben's Japanese name is センリン/Senrin.

It's derived from 前輪/senrin, which means "leading wheel".

His English name is derived from the word "carbon".

Embrose = Boila

Embrose's Japanese name is ボイラ/Boira.

It's derived from the Japanese spelling of the English word "boiler", ボイラー/boirā, with the long-vowel mark "ー" removed.

Therefore, I like to romanize it as "Boila".

His English name is derived from the word "embers".

Rael = Tenda

Rael's Japanese name is テンダ/Tenda.

It's derived from the Japanese spelling of the English word "tender", テンダー/tendā, with the long-vowel mark "ー" removed.

His English name is derived from the word "rail".

Byrne/Staven = Dego

Byrne's Japanese name is ディーゴ/Dīgo.

ディー/Dī is one way to transcribe the letter "D" in Japanese, and ゴ/go means "five". The name is a reference to the JNR Class D51, an old Japanese type of steam locomotive that is quite popular.

This also gives this name a connection to Cole's Japanese name, which I'll explain in his section. The reason for them being connected is likely since they were designed as a duo from the start.

I personally like to romanize this name as "Dego".

His US English name is derived from the word "burn". Like the Japanese name, this one also has a connection with Cole's name.

In the EU English version, he is called "Staven", which is derived from the BR Standard Class 9F 92220 Evening Star, the last steam locomotive to be built by British Railways.

While "Staven" is closer to the Japanese name in the sense of being named after a specific locomotive, "Byrne" retains the aspect of being connected to Cole's name.

In general, all the Japanese Lokomo names are taken from the actual parts of a train, with the exception of Dego (Byrne/Staven), who is named for a specific locomotive. This is likely because he was one of the earlier characters to be created, going through many design changes, and wasn't planned to be a Lokomo from the very start.

The English version is a bit more loose with their pun sources, but still sticks to the theme of train-related names. Overall, it feels like they were trying to go for names that sound similar or allude to actual real life names, though.

Byrne/Staven stands out again, this time as the only major character to have his name be different in the EU English version. I don't know the reason for this, but he also has different names in the respective American and European versions of French and Spanish.

Main Antagonists:

Cole = Kimaroki

Chancellor Cole's Japanese name is キマロキ/Kimaroki. Also of note is that he is a minister in the Japanese version, not a chancellor.

His name is taken from the キマロキ編成/Kimaroki-hensei, a Japanese train formation used for snow-plowing.

Notably, JNR Class D51 locomotives were commonly used to lead the Kimaroki formation, thus giving the names Kimaroki and Dego (Byrne/Staven) a connection. Again, this is likely since they were seemingly designed as a duo from the start.

His English name is derived from the word "coal", and I presume his title was changed to chancellor for the sake of alliteration. Like the Japanese name, this one shares a connection with Byrne.

Malladus = Mallador

Malladus' Japanese name is マラドー/Maradō.

His name is seemingly derived from the LNER Class A4 4468 Mallard, the holder of the world speed record for steam locomotives.

The name takes the Japanese spelling of "Mallard", マラード/Marādo, and moves the long-vowel mark "ー" to the end.

Thus, in Japanese, his name is simply an anagram of the word "Mallard".

To reflect that, one could adapt it into English as something like "Mallad'r", but the problem with that spelling is that it doesn't get the Japanese pronunciation of his name across.

Therefore "Mallador" is my personal compromise.

Of course, there's plenty of other possible romanizations, depending on which details one wishes to keep.

His English name is derived from "Mallard" as well.

Supporting NPCs:

Alfonzo = Cirokuni

Alfonzo's Japanese name is シロクニ/Shirokuni.

シ/Shi is a Japanese transcription of the letter "C", ロク/roku means "six", and ニ/ni means "two". The name is a reference to the JNR Class C62, another old Japanese type of steam locomotive.

Given its origin, I like to romanize it as “Cirokuni”.

His English name was likely chosen since it sounds similar to “Gonzo”, his ancestor from The Legend of Zelda The Wind Waker.

Teacher = Jī ("Geezer")

Teacher's Japanese name is ジイ/Jī. This literally translates to "Old Man" or "Geezer".

From what I've seen, ジイ/Jī appears to be an at least somewhat common thing to call characters who fill the archetype role of "elderly retainer of a princess".

In any case, I like to go with "Geezer" as a translation for this name.

His English name is taken directly from the word "teacher".

Fun Fact: While it's never mentioned in the game, I know of at least one Japanese guidebook for Spirit Tracks which states that Teacher's real given name is アルバトロス/Arubatorosu. This would be romanized as "Albatross".

There have been multiple train models called “Albatross", so he was likely named for one of them.

Ferrus = Tetsuo

Ferrus' Japanese name is テツオ/Tetsuo.

Tetsuo is an actual masculine Japanese given name, chosen here for sounding similar to 鉄道/tetsudō, which means "railways".

His English name is derived from "ferrum" which is Latin and means "iron". I would assume they chose that because 鉄/tetsu by itself also just means "iron".

That’s about it for major characters first introduced in this game.

In this post I only went over the name changes of the more prominent characters, but if you are interested in learning a bit more about the names of all the characters from this game, you can read about them here.

If you wish to see the rest of my The Legend of Zelda Spirit Tracks translation comparisons, you can find them here.

#legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #spirit tracks #tloz #legend of zelda spirit tracks #legend of zelda translations #spirit tracks translations #my translations #spirit tracks comparisons

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bladekindeyewear · 4 years

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HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-04-02

Alright I’ll fix the broken images later right now lets goooooo read the updaaaate I’ve been only spoiled on the chapter title

I don’t even wanna guess. Jake? This makes me think of Jake for some reason, even though that doesn’t make much se-- oh right the Vriskas are locked in a school closet with a dead clown.

> CHAPTER 7. Distress Call From the Closet

Yep.

Also, this is how a car design looks when it was invented to have its first appearance be it flying with a human named Tavros looking out from an open side door.

(I’m not ENTIRELY against designing something for its immediate-art-use-purpose first and functional or historical-origination thought later, but usually when you make it that obvious that that’s what your doing it’s best to make that fact funny. Like the Conveniently Shaped Lamp.)

Also I appreciate this using of Candy as kind of more lighthearted breaks in the action?

> (==>)

I thoguht that protruding fang (?) was drool for a second and wondered what the fuck they were up to in this closet all of a sudden.

Vriska, thriving on it, has not felt so decadently alive in a very long time. Tavros has never in his tragic existence felt so close to death, which is surprising to him.

Vrissy is trying her best not to grapple with any cosmic truths at the moment, since she’s getting a phone call in the middle of hiding for her life.

Vrissy’s implied to be somewhere in-between all that by this joke. I bet she’ll be comparing herself to Vriska and Tavros alike throughout this mess, wondering where on the spectrum she lands and being ashamed of it AND both of them regardless. Vriska Original had a ghost version who went on a fair bit of a Page dress-up thing and personality shift, so maybe we could expect Vrissy to struggle with being caught in the middle of the scales... or does that qualify as overthinking it classpectways?

VRISSY: Yeah Harry I would say we are Extremely Aware of the Situ8ion. VRISSY: As it Unfolded the fuck all around us.

Good Christ, Vrissy’s selectively-capitalized Kanaya-isms continue to be cute.

Oh, he’s on speakerphone.

> (==>)

Yep, telling Rose and Kanaya would be the smart thing to do, but it isn’t the Them thing to do.

--ROXY’S PLACE?!?? Hoo boy. On the other hand, though, we get more Roxy, so it evens out.

Also, I like how Harry Anderson has to spell out Harry Anderson’s entire name for his Harry Anderson chat tag every single time. Harry Anderson.

> (==>)

Part of the reason, Tavros thinks, that he’s been so game to continue on with the worst plan anyone has ever concocted, is that the more bullshit they endure, the longer they can put off actually doing anything that matters.

If he’s getting sprayed with a sprinkler and getting clown feet in his face, it’s a farce. It can’t hurt him. But if they get to the part where he’s shoving the uncooperative weight of his uncle’s corpse in an incinerator, he will stop floating in protective semi-consciousness above his body and it will all be real.

Ouch.

Can’t one of you assholes just captchalogue him? Or did you leave all the appropriate-strength moduses at home? Even you Vriska??

Oh, right. Everyone knows and you can just leave him here. Good call. I mean you don’t really have to worry about forensic evidence with the pictures circulating.

> (==>)

VRISKA: 8ye 8itch.

Oooh! That feels satisfying! Yeah, tell off Gamzee’s corpse!

...Wait.

If they just leave Gamzee there, Jane can revive him, can’t she.

Fuck. Maybe it’s up to Jake to try and stop that.

> (==>)

Karkat and Meenah resistance-time, then, with them presumably hearing about this development on the internet. Wow, Meenah’s horns are getting long fast. Plus a hint more of her grown-up self’s height. I didn’t think she’d keep maturing so fast with her absurd lifespan ahead of her.

Oh shit, I didn’t see at first--

Right, Candy might still be lighthearted compared to the broader plot just due to lowered stakes, but it’s still the Carpet-Bombing-and-War-Filled Shituniverse.

Trolls are made for the battlefield.

From the moment a troll oozes out of the mother grub’s pulsating sphincter, through the trials of the brooding caverns, across the brutal day to day slog of Alternian society, all the way to their Ordeals, to the sucking void of space. They are bred for nothing but endless war.

But Commander Vantas...Commander Vantas is different.

Is... is Meenah narrating right now? Because fuck.

Or so all the pamphlets say.

The actual Commander Vantas has blisters on his heel and has been taking pot-shots at scouting drones for the last six hours. He could use a bath, honestly.

Or is this one of the trolls on the side narrating who’s kind of internalized the stories of trolls’ prior warlike nature?

> (==>)

MEENAH: yo nubs is that u MEENAH: pretty rank KARKAT: OH MY GOD. KARKAT: I FLATLY REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT YOU CAN SMELL MY NATURAL MUSK OVER THE STENCH OF BLOOD AND BURNING FLESH.

I guess it probably was Meenah narrating, then. Unless it’s a really biased alt!Callie doing the talking.

MEENAH: didnt i warn u bout thinking tho? KARKAT: GOD DAMMIT MEENAH, DON’T MEME AT ME.

I don’t know what meme this is and I really don’t want to know.

They have had this argument more than once. In fact, both of them could play either side of it. Karkat has done his time in the field, of course, leading small guerilla operations to free prisoners and sabotage Crocker’s supply chains, but Meenah and the rest of the council is right. Which is why he’s here, instead of at the front lines with his rebels, where he belongs.

His true value is his face. His symbology. At the end of the day, he is a fucking ad campaign.

...is KARKAT narrating here???

SWIFER: boss check the news!

Oh shit, right, Swifer is in the resistance in Candy instead of just a breeding assistant in Meat as the bonuses remind us.

KARKAT: OH FUCK. MEENAH: what KARKAT: JESUS CHRIST. MEENAH: nubs i swear 2 god KARKAT: IT’S GAMZEE. KARKAT: HE’S DEAD. MEENAH: oh MEENAH: well shit KARKAT: I CAN’T FUCKING BELIEVE THIS. MEENAH: u okay KARKAT: NO!

Huh. Them’s some complicated feelings that could fall in basically all directions at once.

Also, I can’t believe Karkat has hung around humans enough to fully internalize the full-throated exclamation “JESUS CHRIST”, which wouldn’t even really be a thing on Earth C with people who aren’t from Earths B or A.

MEENAH: u outlawed fishpuns i gotta make my own fun

How could you, Karkat.

KARKAT: AND I GUESS IF YOU CALL AN OBSCENELY PUBLIC PALE ACT, PERFORMED IN A FUGUE OF DESPERATE PANIC INTENDED TO PREVENT HIM FROM MURDERING ALL OF MY FRIENDS INSTEAD OF JUST HALF OF THEM “A THING”. KARKAT: THEN YES, I GUESS WE HAD A THING. KARKAT: BUT IF YOU’RE ASKING ME IF I’M SAD THAT HE’S DEAD? KARKAT: ABSOLUTELY THE FUCK NOT.

Okay, I’d hoped not, good...

KARKAT: THAT’S NOT WHY I’M SAYING FUCK A BUNCH OF TIMES. MEENAH: u need a reason to say fuck a buncha times KARKAT: SHUT UP. KARKAT: LOOK AT THE PICTURE.

--Right! That’s a good reason to not be okay.

KARKAT: I DON’T THINK SO? I CAN’T SEE HER EYES IN THIS PICTURE, BUT SHE’S COVERED IN BLOOD, AND SHE’S CARRYING GAMZEE, SO SHE’S CORPOREAL AT LEAST.

I love this form of analysis somehow.

KARKAT: OKAY...HERE. OH. OF COURSE. CROCKER IS CLAIMING HER SON WAS KIDNAPPED AND FORCED TO PARTICIPATE. KARKAT: AND THEY’VE NAMED ME AS THE MASTERMIND. MEENAH: well we woulda taken credit for it anyway so this saves us the time MEENAH: thanks jane owe u one

Meenah isn’t the “concerned” type. Lemonade out of lemons.

> (==>)

That middle tweet is my favorite.

Oh dear, “#GamzeeAnon”...

KARKAT: SHIT. OF COURSE THIS WOULD HAVE TO DO WITH FUCKING SERKET. KARKAT: LITERAL MONTHS OF PLANNING, HOURS AND HOURS OF LOGISTICS, AND ALL OF IT GOES UP IN SMOKE BECAUSE OF ONE SPIDERY ASSHOLE. KARKAT: SHE *WOULD* FIND SOME WAY TO WRECK MY SHIT FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE.

indisputable

KARKAT: NOW? KARKAT: NOW WE PIVOT FROM THE SUBLIME TO THE RIDICULOUS.

Um...

What does that mean?

I’m having a lot of trouble not only understanding the basic meaning of what he’s saying, here, but understanding why KARKAT of all people would employ it.

......it’s a meme, isn’t it. Gotta be.

> (==>)

(Ooh, an eyepatch designed to invoke a Strider-shade. Nice.)

KARKAT: I NEED TO TALK TO EGBERT.

But....... why??

> (==>)

Oh right, cause his son’s girlfriend is involved.

> (==>)

Oh my goooood what a pair of John and Roxy caaaars! :D

He is too busy with these mental gymnastics to notice his father’s car parked outside.

Ah right. John’s... not on the best terms with him, I recall that.

> (==>)

Ohhhh myyyy goooood what an image!!!

John, Roxy, and Harry Anderson proceed to have the tail end of a conversation they had before, in another medium.

What the fuck!? Harry had that conversation WHILE this dead body situation was going on?! Let me reread that linked bit...

(And she has such a somber smile on her face, but given the conversation content it’s not surprising.)

Harry Anderson looks at the two of them all teary and laughing and hikes his bag higher on his shoulder, shifting his weight. Roxy sees a muscle tighten in his jaw. Her beautiful, smart boy. She wants to run over and hug him, to protect him from the possibility of pain at talking to his father, but she doesn’t. She knows how much he’s wanted this, no matter how much he jokes about it.

She looks back at John, and sees her own awe mirrored in his face. She wills him not to cry, not to fall back on his self-imposed suffering and blame loop. Something about the last hour must have done the trick, though. John stands up, brushes his hands on his jeans, and walks, back straight, toward his son.

JOHN: hey harry anderson. JOHN: it’s really, really good to see you. JOHN: do you wanna go for a drive?

The muscle in Harry Anderson’s jaw clenches a few more times, but when he smiles, it is genuine.

HARRY ANDERSON: yeah, dad. HARRY ANDERSON: that could be cool.

Oh son of a bitch. Well isn’t that entertaining. Harry you’re just going to ditch your friends for I’m kidding, this is life fulfillment you’re aiming for, of COURSE you’re going to agree. (Too bad bringing the current situation in is gonna throw a wrench in things.)

> (==>)

Oh right, that means more of THIS Vriska and THIS John. They’ve had a good start talking already, I wonder what more they can learn from each other.

HARRY ANDERSON: but no worries, i asked my mom to pick me up some snacks so she’ll leave to go to the store in a sec. HARRY ANDERSON: just sneak in after she leaves and hide in my room, and i’ll be back in a bit.

Harry you enormous shortsighted asshole. And John’s about to learn all this from Karkat over the phone to blow his cover.

> (==>)

aaaaa roxy art i cannot :D

Wonder if her stealthiness attunement is gonna catch them in the act?

> (==>)

From this jealousy bit, I wonder to what degree Earth C humans are used to Troll quadrants and their various interplay mores.

> (Room: Examine yourself.)

Oh, a proper room introduction for Harry Anderson! Very fashion-focused, very liking the spotlight--

Oh wait, shit. This is traditionally where classpect associations are hinted more obviously than anywhere else. Time to stop holding back on the classpect stuff and take in every fucking word with capital-C Classpect fully in mind.

A bedroom stands empty. There is no boy standing in this bedroom, or indeed anyone else. However, if the boy whose bedroom it was were here, one might remark that his name was HARRY ANDERSON.

And FUCK, one might say, does he like MUSICAL THEATER.

Spotlight, definitely. But is it for the attention? The possibilities? The acting?

He has been in his fair share of school plays, but he has LOFTY ASPIRATIONS to STAR in bigger and better productions. He especially appreciates modern MUSICAL REMAKES of classic OLD EARTH MOVIES. It's a craze that not everyone is happy about, but in the absent boy they have found a DEVOTED FAN. There is also just enough overlap between his taste and his father’s to allow for SOMEWHAT STILTED CONVERSATIONAL BONDING from time to time.

Hmmmm. Is it about the majesty of important works of media (I see “Pokémon” and “Alien vs Predator” up there...), or is it about the fact that they’re remakes of past works? Those are a lot of awards and stage lights now that I zoom in to look... and hats... hats could be important......

The boy who is not yet here has also been known to dabble in ACCESSORIZATION. He could be described as a COBBLER ASPIRANT, a NEOPHYTE MILLINER, or even a BIT OF A WHIZZ WITH A NEEDLE AND THREAD.

Oh, interesting! Not just putting out different outfits, but making them? And Milliner is hat-specific creation...

His mother got him his first SEWING MACHINE when he was 10, to keep him from using hers all the time. His looks are HAND-CRAFTED, often IMITATED, but never DUPLICATED.

Space is obviously possible from sewing, but-- A focus on uniqueness!!! The broader theme is getting VERY specific. You might feel where I’m leaning already.

His COSTUMES appear in various AMATEUR PRODUCTIONS, the devising of which takes up most of his FREE TIME. His friends are usually LESS APPRECIATIVE of his attempts to dress them up than he would like, though.

Holy fucking shit. He dresses up and makes unique HATS for his friends and others. Specifically so they can use them as COSTUMES to act parts!!!!

And the other unique thing mentioned about him here took the time aside to note how he appreciated the intersection in personal interests between him and his father for it.

So you all know what I’m thinking, right? HATS??? It’s got to be Heart, isn’t it. Maybe even a Page of Heart, with his long-off aspirations and talent for arming others with it. Any other additive/giving class might do the trick, too, like Sylph or possibly Maid. Knight could technically still fit pretty well, but I feel Page is better given what little we know so far, what with so much outward focus bleeding out.

(You can comb through the saga on my infamous hats tag or the summary on the Aspect Duality post, but the gist is that hats (and others’ clothes, but especially the hats. even shoes -- SO many shoes in that picture!) represent the gist of an expressed identity, personal uniqueness whether innate or affected ala a costume. Nepeta, Dirk, Terezi, and even Stitch have given us examples, some of them deeper than we realized, MOST of them probably overthought bullshit like I thought when I first created the hats tag and started tracking the wonderful importance of hats. ¬_¬)

I’d like to see anyone else’s interpretation. (EDIT: One more potential Nep-allusion in this room.)

> (==>)

Oh nooooooo!!!! Tavros’s sprite is the saddest looking thing I’ve ever seen!! D: Like a mix of Jane and Jake that thoroughly regrets his entire existence! Which he practically does! D: Why the Caliborn-like clothes though?

(Some hint at “how different alt!Callie’s Caliborn must have been” like the commentary suggested exploring in fanfiction? Was the suggestion meant to divert attention from the idea that it’d be addressed in the plot? Andrew pulled that trick a time or two, why not these authors?)

Also:

Pffff. Vriska just accessorizing immediately-- Oh, wait. That might just be a bandana she had at some point coated in Gamzee’s blood.

Tavros is looking at the news on a borrowed phone -- nice call on disabling the tracking on yours, Tavros.

> (==>)

TAVROS: It’s getting a bit surreal to see my, uh,, frozen mask of horror on every news site,, TAVROS: It’s a good shot of you,,, though, Vrissy, VRISSY: It really is Shockingly well composed.

Heheheh. It’s fun that Tavros knows exactly what Vrissy/ka would care about.

And yes, Vriska is over there trying out ALL the bandanas.

> (==>)

VRISSY: Oh, is trying on all my 8oyfriend’s accessories not passing the time well enough for you? VRISKA: Desper8 times call for desper8 measures, Vrissy. VRISKA: And this is some dire shit.

They stare each other down. Did she mean the fugitive situation, or Harry Anderson’s fashion choices? Vrissy feels silly wondering this, but despite the situation they’re in, she can’t help but feel more acutely anxious about Vriska’s presence.

She likes her life, and she trusts her own choices. But now, looking at everything from Vriska’s vantage point, it all feels silly. Unimportant. Childish.

She can’t tell if she wants Vriska to rip in to Harry Anderson or if she wants her to stay silent. To put off the moment where she has to defend him or join in.

Real interesting. Like she’s caught between these worlds after all.

> (==>)

They say it was a long drive, but...?

...WOW. What a chill, disinterested-looking affect his sprite makes for. Huh.

He kisses Vrissy’s temple and she leans in to the warmth of him.

HARRY ANDERSON: aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. HARRY ANDERSON: so sorry it took so long. HARRY ANDERSON: can’t rush a heart to heart, you know how it is.

Stop making me deliberate whether you’re trying to drop teasing Heart-aspect hints. You already know I’m going to be obsessively scrutinizing every word of dialogue around Harry to see if it fits, story. No need to rub it in.

VRISSY: You actually had a Heart to Heart with your dad? How many times did he Cry?

I DIDN’T EVEN READ THE NEXT LINE QUIT SAYING HEART TO HEART YOU EVEN GAVE IT PROPER CAPS THAT TIME

HARRY ANDERSON: but god, it was a mess. i had to keep talking to keep him from looking at his phone or turning on the radio. HARRY ANDERSON: i may have told him more about my deep passions and emotions in the last hour than the whole rest of my life combined, just to keep him from hearing the fucking news.

Holy shit. You exploited conversation about your deep passions and interests for a separate goal???

Aaargh! Classpect everywhere! I’ve relapsed!!! D:

> (==>)

JOHN IS SO HAPPY

John Egbert has not had a day like this in a very long time. He can barely keep track of this series of epiphanies he’s having. He stretches out on his couch to relax and process the gifts of advice and connection his friends and family and ex-family have just given him.

OH RIGHT TIME TO RUIN IT WITH MAXIMUM SHENANIGANS

JOHN: hey karkat! great timing! JOHN: so much just happened and im kind of reeling about it. KARKAT: YEAH NO SHIT.

Ohhhh. Much of the time I hate dramatic irony, but those moments before someone is about to be let in on the discrepancy... oh man I love that.

JOHN: is something going on? i just spent the afternoon with my son, and i think he would have told me if something was up with his friends? KARKAT: OH MY LUSCIOUS SHITTING CHRIST JOHN LISTEN TO ME. JOHN: listening!

"Luscious”?? Did they try to type “Lusus” and get autocorrected?

Who’s writing Homestuck on their phone???

> (==>)

J...John?? Are you okay?? XD

This picture. These two paragraphs. I fucking love them.

(Wow, being closer to the “canon” story due to ridiculous shenanigans right after his back-to-back self-insights and outlook changes have really been healthy for him huh. He can probably sense HS^2 reaching him out here. And you can see the helpless comedian his probably-still-depressed ass became on Earth B in his reaction here. EDIT: Also, how appropriate that even by DYING, the Bard of Rage managed to fulfill his role and shatter the last vestiges of John's narrow-outlooked despair?)

John can’t answer. He can’t speak. His body has given itself over to the long-lost feeling of manic euphoria. It had felt like Harry Anderson was holding something back on the drive earlier, but he had already told John so much. He hadn’t wanted to press for more.

Yeah... after what John’s gone through across his life and session, finding out Harry managed to hide THIS for a whole car-ride is the best sort of punch-line for him.

John can’t breathe. Something is happening. Something is finally fucking happening, and he’s finally awake enough to appreciate it.

--yep. I was just guessing earlier, but this kind of confirms it’s in part a closer-to-relevance, closer-to-canon feeling bleeding in. Something is happening that’s important enough to SHOW onscreen and not skip over. I guess he really does like being anchored in Light after all.

> (==>)

John wheezes himself into relative calm. He has to get Karkat to understand. He clears his throat and breathes.

JOHN: karkat, this can be how we win. JOHN: i know what we need to do.

...holy SHIT.

Karkat, how did you know calling JOHN about this would work out this well??

John actually taking confident action to solve a problem, in a way that isn’t going to end up depressing like his attempt to provide Tavros escape in the Epilogues... this should be interesting.

See you next time. (I had to image-fix some stupid linked hat posts for this blogpost and I’m out of energy, so I’ll fix the other old post I promised that asker to fix in like, a day or two; I’ll post when I do.)

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots #hats #Heart and Mind #Harry Anderson

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meangirlsx · 4 years

Text

Say My Name (Part 1)

Pairing: Beetlejuice x reader Word count: 2140 Warning(s): Ouija board usage? Very minimal knowledge and understanding of ouija boards? Reader not really knowing how to work one well? Request: Can i get me a beej x reader where the reader is feelin the spooky spirit of spooktober tries out a ouija board, and beej completely fucks with them (including tricking the reader to summon him)

——

Lydia had warned you not to buy a ouija board. She had practically begged you. But you were best friends and she knew you better than that. So just to be safe, she taught you everything she could think of about ouija boards and how to use them as safely as possible.

You made a mental note to thank her again for the lesson as you sat on your bedroom floor with your new ouija board and a few candles.

You knew you were already disobeying one of Lydia’s suggestions: she had told you it was best to have at least two people involved, but the only person you would trust to work the board with you was Lydia, so you were on your own.

You placed your fingers on the planchette and moved it in a circle to “warm up the board” as Lydia had taught you. Then you let it settle in the middle of the board.

“Um, hi, spirit,” you said. “At least, I hope there’s a spirit here. Is anyone here?”

You felt chills travel up your spine as the planchette began to move. You kept your fingers resting lightly on the planchette as it landed on NO.

“No?” But you definitely hadn’t moved the planchette on your own. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

The planchette shifted to YES.

“I have a sarcastic ghost on my hands. Okay.” You thought for a second, thinking through what Lydia had told you. “I would like to keep this positive, and I’d prefer for you to only communicate through the board. Do you think we can do that?”

The planchette didn’t move away from YES, so you assumed that was a good sign.

“Great. Thank you. Okay. So. Um, are you a spirit guide?”

The planchette circled around YES. That seemed enthusiastic.

You smiled. “So you are? And you’re excited about it? That’s cool. Um, do you have a message for me?”

You watched as the planchette spelled out U-R-H-O-T.

“I’m...hot?” you asked, confused.

The planchette did two quick circles around YES.

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand. I feel fine. Could you elaborate? Oh, I’m supposed to ask a more specific question, aren’t I? I’m sorry. Let me think…”

But the planchette began moving anyway. This time, it seemed to take quick pauses between words as it spelled out U-R E-A-S-Y O-N T-H-E E-Y-E-S.

“You...think I’m attractive? That’s your message to me?”

The planchette returned to YES.

“Thank you.” You felt a blush creep up into your face even though you wanted to fight it. “Oh! I’m sorry. I’ve been rude. I meant to ask for your name before I started asking other questions. I’m—”

But before you could offer your name, the planchette moved to spell it out instead.

“That’s right. You know who I am?”

The planchette headed back to YES.

“Do you know anyone else? No, that’s a really vague question…”

But, again, the planchette started moving anyway. You appreciated that your spirit didn’t seem to mind your lack of precision.

You felt yourself holding your breath as the planchette spelled out L-Y-D-I-A.

“Lydia? You know my best friend?”

Back to YES.

“Is she going to be mad that I’m using this ouija board when she suggested that I don’t?” You asked it before you realized it might come off as offensive to your spirit.

The planchette seemed to stall, hovering between YES and NO, then settled on NO.

“You hesitated?”

The planchette sped across the board to spell out S-H-E W-O-N-T B-E M-A-D A-T Y-O-U.

You couldn’t explain it, but something about the sentence felt like the spirit was trying to emphasize you.

“She won’t be mad at me, but she’ll be mad?”

You watched the planchette spell P-R-O-B-A-B-L-Y.

“But if she won’t be mad at me, why would she be mad? Who will she be mad at?”

The planchette answered slowly. M-E.

“You? She’ll be mad at you?”

Back to YES.

“Does she know you?”

Another circle around YES.

Something clicked in your mind. “Is that why she didn’t want me to use a ouija board?”

P-R-O-B-A-B-L-Y.

“I thought you were a spirit guide, though.”

S-O-R-T O-F.

“Sort of?”

G-U-I-D-E.

“You’re a guide, but not a spirit guide?”

YES.

“Then what kind of guide are you?”

T-O T-H-E O-T-H-E-R S-I-D-E.

“Like Charon, the ferryman to the Underworld?”

NO. Then the planchette spelled out N-E-T-H-E-R-W-O-R-L-D.

“Not Underworld, but Netherworld? You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

The planchette flew back over to YES.

“So you’re the guide to the Netherworld? Like a reaper?” You felt a pang of fear rush through you. “Are you here to guide me to the Netherworld?”

The planchette circled NO, then spelled T-O H-O-T.

You put together that the spirit was trying to say you were “too hot” to take to the Underworld, or Netherworld. You let out a laugh.

“Thanks. So how do you know Lydia?” you asked. Saying her name reminded you of her lesson. “Wait! I’m sorry. I still never got your name. What is your name?”

L-A-W-R-E-N-C-E.

“Lawrence? It’s nice to meet you Lawrence.”

You became confused when the planchette responded by passing over to NO.

“No? It’s...not nice to meet you?”

N-O-T L-A-W-R-E-N-C-E.

“Your name isn’t Lawrence? But you spelled it out.”

YES.

“So it is your name?”

The planchette circled YES.

You let out a long breath. “You’re enjoying messing with me, aren’t you?”

Three circles around YES.

“So Lawrence is your name but you want me to call you something else?”

YES.

You watched carefully as the planchette slowly passed over the letters on the board and seemed to form the word B-E-E-T-L-E-J-U-I-C-E.

“Beetlejuice?”

The planchette began to move again. You figured you hadn’t gotten the name right and the spirit was spelling it out again, but as the planchette stopped, you swore it was the same letters.

“Beetlejuice?” you asked again.

The planchette began to move once more. You tried to watch even more carefully. You had to have been missing something. But it came to a stop and you were sure you weren’t mistaken the other two times.

“Beetlejuice. You’re literally just spelling Beetlejuice. What is that?”

A puff of neon green smoke emerged from the board. Before you could see clearly, you heard a gruff, raspy man’s voice say, “That’s me, babe!”

The smoke began to clear and you could make out the features of the man, now. His hair was tinted the same neon green as the smoke, and it was sticking up in every direction. He wore a striped black and white suit and a green tie that matched his hair.

You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say anything.

The man gave you a wicked smile. “Cat got your tongue? Yeah, I have that effect. And for the record, the Netherworld is a real place. It’s what you think of as the Underworld. I didn’t make it up to be funny. But I do think I’m funny. I’m hilarious.”

“...You’re…?” You looked down at the board, then back up at him.

He nodded. “Yep! That was me. You had my name right. I just needed you to say it three times to summon me. I can’t believe I spelled it right. Or at least right enough for you to say it right.”

“I just summoned a ghost?”

“Well, technically, I’m a demon, but yes, you did.”

“You’re a demon? I summoned a demon? Oh, man, Lydia’s gonna kill me. Unless you’re going to…” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence.

Beetlejuice suddenly got very serious and held out his arms. “NO!” Then he dropped his arms like he realized he was being a little dramatic. “No. That’s not why I’m here. I just wanted to meet you. Lydia and I go way back, and I’ve been watching you since you became her friend.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?” He looked around the room. “Lydia really should have told you not to use a ouija board in your home. I can’t believe she forgot that part. But I’m glad. I like your room. It’s cozy.”

“Why aren’t you supposed to—” You stopped, realizing you could answer your own question. “So things like this don’t happen in your own bedroom.”

“See, you’re catching on!” he said with a grin.

“I have a lot more questions. But if you don’t want to answer them—”

“No!” he almost yelled. “I do. I absolutely do. I just want to spend time with you. Please don’t make me leave.”

A demon was begging to spend time with you. That was pretty October, which was what you were aiming for when you had bought the ouija board in the first place. But it was also very...alternate universe? You could barely believe this was real.

But he meant what he said. He sat with you for hours and answered every question you had, patiently and enthusiastically. Conversation with him flowed naturally. It was easy to forget that you were talking to a demon, or even that you had only met earlier that night.

You weren’t sure how you felt so comfortable around him, but you must have, because you found yourself waking up in the morning after apparently falling asleep talking to him.

You were surprised to see that he hadn’t left, either. He was sitting on your floor, and it looked like he was texting. That was strange, you thought. You hadn’t thought about the possibility of him owning a phone. You reached to pick up your own phone and realized that your suspicions were accurate.

You shot out of bed. “What are you doing with that?” You tried to take your phone from him, but he dodged you a little too easily.

“I’m texting Lydia,” he said. “I just figured out how to work this thing, like, an hour ago. Wait your turn.”

“There are no turns. It’s my phone. Give it back!”

He was suddenly at least a foot above your head, floating with his legs still crossed and your phone still in hand. “What? This?” He held your phone out, taunting you.

You sighed. “You’re not funny.”

“I told you. I’m hilarious.” He waved your phone at you as if it proved his point.

“If you’re pretending to be me, there’s no way Lydia will fall for it.”

“Oh, believe me, I know that.” He slowly lowered himself back to the floor to stand in front of you. “I told her it was me. She wants us to come over. She wants to clear some things up. Something about us being a perfect match, I think she said?”

You shot him a look and said, “You’re a liar.” You reached for your phone once more and were surprised but grateful when he let you take it.

You opened your text thread with Lydia to find that she did want the two of you to come over, and that she felt awful about keeping him a secret from you. You were shocked to read that Beetlejuice had actually been trying to comfort her, reminding her that she had done it because she thought you would be better off without him complicating your life.

“You care about her,” you said, smiling. “You have a soft side.”

He shrugged. “She’s my best friend.”

“She’s mine, too.”

“I know! See, that’s just another reason we’re a perfect match!”

You turned to begin getting ready for the day but glanced back over your shoulder to look at him. “Lydia was right. I am going to regret having you in my life.”

Beetlejuice just smirked at you. “We’ll see.”

You got ready quickly and made your way over to Lydia’s house with Beetlejuice. You thought she might have been waiting for you, and anxiously, too, because you had barely rung the doorbell before she opened the door.

She immediately pulled you into a hug. “Y/N! Please don’t hate me! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about BJ!”

At the same time, you heard Beetlejuice saying, almost more to himself, “Hey! It’s my ex-wife! My widow! Wait. Don’t you technically qualify as a Black Widow? You did kill me right after we were married.”

You returned Lydia’s hug but maneuvered so that you could look at both of them. “I’m sorry. What are you talking about?”

Lydia narrowed her eyes at Beetlejuice. “You didn’t think to cover that in the hours you said you spent talking last night?”

Beetlejuice shrugged, unbothered by her gaze.

“You know what? It’s for the best. I’d rather you hear it from me, anyway.” Lydia released you and held the front door open so you could go inside. “Come on in. We have a lot to talk about.”

——

NOTE: This didn’t get as “x reader” as it could’ve, because it takes place within a handful of hours, but I formed an idea for a second part as I wrote that does get way more toward the “x reader” romantic side, so just let me know if you guys want me to write a part 2!

EDIT: Part 2 coming soon!

Tag list: @mars-bars-stars, @reader-ships, @anxiousankylosaurus, @msmith74, @broadwaymusicaltrash, @you-thinks-wrong-romeo, @theatricalwriter, @be-more-heidi-hansen, @peachy-jolly, @g1ngersp1ce, @trumancheerleadermaui, @dancewyou, @spookabeth, @coral-cat-iris, @madameboxhead, @elaineygrace, @theolwebshooter, @ohsomightykeyboard

#beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice fic

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ronninoir · 4 years

Text

Can I Steal You for a Second? CH3

Summary: Adrien is forced to participate in a new dating show, but becomes more excited when Ladybug says she’ll participate as her civilian self. AKA: AU where Adrien doesn’t know Marinette, the superheroes are 22 and Gabriel is mean and ruthless but not Hawkmoth.

Read on AO3

Chapter 3

That night, Marinette was so excited she transformed and was at their meeting place 15 minutes before patrol was to start. She was too giddy to sit and instead spent those minutes running laps around the neighboring rooftops and trying to decide how to break the news to Chat.

By the time he showed up, Ladybug had come up with the perfect way to tell him, even if it would be better if they had paper. Maybe they could swing by Agreste Mansion to grab some before they started. When she turned to face Chat, her cheeks were bright red and she was slightly out of breath from her laps around the rooftops.

“Good evening milady, been waiting long for me? Or did you just get here too?” Chat said with his normal coy smile and a wink, taking in her slight pant and her colored face. Her insides melted and she suddenly forgot how to talk. It was different knowing that Adrien was beneath that mask and that she was going to be able to openly fight for him in two weeks. Just thinking of all of the coy things she could say to make him embarrassed and all of the hints she can give about her identity without making it too obvious got her excited about the show all over again.

His expression began to turn to worry when she didn’t respond and she quickly snapped herself back to the present. “Oh, I’ve been here for a bit, but I needed to run some energy out so I took a couple laps around the neighboring rooftops while I was waiting.”

“Oh! Why’d you get here so early?”

“I just couldn’t sit in my room any longer,” Ladybug replied, trying to make her voice sound more bitter than excited. Her plan had included not letting Chat onto the good news just yet.

Chat nodded understandingly. She had been miserable all week waiting for the TV station to call her and Chat was VERY AWARE of her moods this week. He tried to make different jokes about it to make it all less miserable, but he quickly learned that Ladybug’s sense of humor didn’t cover jokes about mood swings.

“Still no word from the station?” Chat asked hesitantly. He had never seemed to be afraid of Ladybug, but this week he had been walking on egg shells.

“No, not yet,” Ladybug said, ducking her head, so he couldn’t see the small smile she wore. “How about we play a game to distract me?” She tried to make it sound like an innocent suggestion, and she hoped her excitement for what was to come couldn’t be heard.

“I would love to milady, but don’t we have to patrol?” Chat looked at her curiously. Normally she was all about patrol first and play later. Thankfully, the game she came up with worked included patrolling, so he wouldn’t think too much of her choice.

“The game that I have in mind allows us to patrol and play. You in?” The smile she shot Chat was playful and teasing. She knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“Oh I’m in.” He announced while readying his baton for take-off.

“Great! We just have to make one little stop first.”

---------------------------------------------------

A couple of minutes later, they were sitting on top of Agreste Mansion. Chat had a piece of paper and a pen and no idea what was happening.

“So, the moral of this game is to figure out what word I’m thinking of using letters from the places that we go to. The word is 10 letters long, so first, I need you to mark 10 spaces next to each other on the paper.” Chat did as he was instructed. “Great. Now, remember, the first letter of the place we go to is going to fill in one of those blanks. By the end, you’ll have the word.”

Chat raised his hand like he was in school. “Are the places and letters going to be in order?”

Ladybug laughed a little at how seriously he was taking this. She had to give him credit though, he was dedicated. “Yes, kitty, the places and letters are going to be in order.”

“So, all I have to do to win is figure out what the word is, right? It’s like a scavenger hunt with spelling.”

“Right! Are you ready?”

Chat took the time to place the paper and pen inside one of his numerous pockets—she was still very bitter that her suit didn’t have any pockets—before he nodded.

“Perfect, then follow me.” Ladybug said with a flourish of her yo-yo. She threw it out to where it landed on a nearby billboard and jumped. The exhilaration that comes with every jump came and she truly was able to enjoy being Ladybug. When there was an akuma to fight or she was rushing home before her time went out, she forgot how exciting it could be to jump off a building with only her yo-yo to keep her aloft.

Quickly, she landed on top of the roof of Françoise Dupont High School. Once Chat joined her, she looked at him expectantly.

“So, we’ve landed at a high school. But that’s not fair! There are 3 words here. Collège, Françoise, and Dupont. Which one is it?”

He put on a little pout that was absolutely adorable and she couldn’t contain her giggle, “That’s all part of the game.”

He quickly pulled out his paper and began to write “C, F, or D” under the first line. While watching him do so, she piped up, “You’ll know for sure which one it is before the end, I promise.”

He huffed a little at that and murmured an “I better,” before putting the paper and pen in their designated pocket.

The next stop was the Obélisque de Louxor. Chat just knew it as the “really tall statue at the Place de la Concorde” so he had to do some investigative digging on the plaque for the name. After grumbling about the 2 possible letters, he put the supplies away and followed Ladybug to the next destination.

This one was easier, or at least in Chat’s eyes. “Notre-Dame is hyphenated, so the letter has to be the ‘N!’” He whooped triumphantly and placed the “N” on the third slot. “And if the third letter is an “N” that means that the second letter has to be a vowel, so “O” must be the correct answer for that one!” He looked very proud when he glanced over to Ladybug for approval. She couldn’t help but smile back as she nodded. “Great! So we have ‘CON,’ ‘FON’ or ‘DON.’” He scrunched up his face as he thought about possible words, but clearly came up empty when he shrugged his shoulders and gestured for them to move on.

The next stop was at the Trocadéro and then they jumped the river to the Eiffel Tower. That allowed Chat to eliminate the “F” and “D” as the first letter. “You’re making this too easy, Bug! I’ve already got half of the word, and I’m totally going to win!” He paused for a moment before turning to look at her. “What do I get if I win?

She gave him a sly smile and said in a sweet voice, “I’ll tell you when you figure it out.” He frowned at that, but was easily distracted when their next stop was to the Seine.

“So, I have C-O-N-T-E (or possibly another T) and an S. That means it has to be the ‘E’ from ‘Eiffel,’ not the ‘T’ from ‘Tower.’ It can’t be contest, that’s too short of a word. Hmmm.” Chat paused in concentration and scrunched up his face as he was thinking. Finally, he sighed and said, “Okay, give me the next one.”

The duo flew off to stop number 7, Montparnasse Tower. There, Chat groaned loudly as he discovered that part of the word was indeed “CONTEST.”

��Is it just one word, or is there a space I’m missing here?” Chat gave Ladybug a hard look. “How come I feel that you are leaving important information out? That would be cheating, you know.” He said while crossing his arms over his chest and giving her a very disapproving look.

Ladybug laughed as she said, “How can I cheat if I created the game? Although I will tell you, the word you’re figuring out is part of a phrase. It reads, ‘I am a blank.’ You’re finding the blank.”

“Well, that would have been nice to know before-hand,” Chat grumbled as he stood up and put the paper and pen away.

“Oh, but watching you struggle has been so much more fun,” Ladybug replied with a flick of his bell. He gave her a small glare in return that just made her laugh. There wasn’t much malice behind his glare and he ended up chuckling too. “You ready, Chaton, or are you going to pout all night before the game is even done?”

Chat bowed slightly, ushering Ladybug to jump off of the roof first. She stepped up and flew across the city quickly, towards their next destination. She had a feeling Chat would guess the word, and the meaning behind the word, once they made it to this destination.

As soon as his feet touched the top of the Arc de Triumphe, Chat had his pen and paper out. He went ahead and filled in the “A” as, “Another ‘T’ just wouldn’t make sense.” Quickly, he began trying out different kinds of words and Ladybug could almost see his brain beginning to work it out.

She held her breath and nervously had her lip between her teeth. What if he was upset? What if he refused to talk to her now that she was a contestant because he didn’t want to “give her an advantage?” She had already cleared Sunday nights off with the producers—after a hasty email sent as a reply to her packing list, since she was so in shock with the phone call she had forgotten to mention it. She was going to be able to patrol with him then, what if he told her that he couldn’t patrol with her anymore? What would she do if she couldn’t have some decent alone time with him outside of the show for the next couple of months?

Chat’s gasp quickly brought Ladybug out of her spiraling thoughts and forced her to focus on the present. “You... you’re going to be a contestant?” He asked breathlessly. The look on his face was a mixture of pure happiness and shock.

She gave him a slight nod and a curtsy and said, “So happy to finally meet, my bachelor,” before he tackled her in a hug.

“I’m so excited you’re going to be there,” he whispered into her hair.

“Me too.”

----------------------------------------------------

The next day, Alya reacted exactly as Marinette thought that she would. Her ears were still ringing with Alya’s screams as she was hastily writing down all of the things Alya demanded that she do before she went on the show.

“I’m going to let you slide on the hair dye part of it, since I honestly don’t think your hair would change colors very well, but we need to get a haircut for sure. We also need to handle these nails and work on your eyebrows. I would also consider getting an eyelash perm before you left so you don’t have to worry about having straight-as-a-board eyelashes. Lastly—”

“I’m sorry, an eyelash perm? Where in the world have you heard of that before?” Marinette was laughing at the idea of someone getting chemicals on their eyelashes in order to make them constantly curled for a while.

“I read about it during my research,” Alya said, trying to brush it off.

“What research?”

“You know... the research. For the article. About the thing.” One look at Marinette’s face and Alya cracked. “Okay, fine. The research I did to find out what my best friend needed to do once she got cast on the show. I looked up what all of the American contestants do last week since I knew you were going to make it and I wanted to be prepared.” Alya smiled sheepishly at Marinette and then was engulfed in a hug.

“What did I do to deserve a best friend like you?”

----------------------------------------------------

Alya made all of the appointments for Marinette that week,—even one for an eyelash perm, that Marinette begrudgingly went to— helped her sort through her closet and her make-up and her hair products for just the right stuff to bring and even helped her stuff all of it into the two suitcases she was allowed to bring with her.

“How do the girls normally do this? And normally they have to bring their own clothes?” Alya said as she wrestled with Suitcase #1. Marinette had been working on Suitcase #2 for about 5 minutes before she finally got it zipped. “Here, hold down this side and I’ll zip up the other.”

Marinette did as she was told and had a moment to admire her freshly done nails. Her hair and skin had never looked better before and she was starting to feel nervous about meeting the other girls officially. And honestly, she was starting to get nervous about how the other girls would act around Adrien specifically. Marinette hoped that she would be able to stay true to herself and not become some pawn in the show that acted differently in front of the cameras.

“Got it!” Alya announced proudly. She sat down exhaustedly on Marinette’s chaise and turned to look around the room. It seemed a little empty now that everything was packed in the two suitcases before them. “I can’t believe you’re going to be gone for like 3 months.”

“Alya, you’ve known for 2 weeks now.” Marinette moved towards Alya and joined her on the chaise.

“I know, I know. It just finally feels real. Like before with all of the appointments and hair/make-up experiments and other fun things, it felt like a game or a story. Now that you’re leaving tomorrow...” Her voice trailed off and Marinette leaned over to give Alya a hug.

“I’ll make you a promise. No matter what happens on the show, I’ll write to you weekly, detailing everything. You’ll know everything before everyone else does, you just can’t tell anyone or write me back.” Normally, the contestants aren’t allowed to have paper or anything like that, but Marinette had gotten special permission to have her sketch book, solely because the show was being financed by Gabriel. Whether she wrote letters with her sketch book and mailed them on Sunday’s during patrols, well... what the producers didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

“I’m listening,” Alya egged, making Marinette giggle.

“And I promise that no matter what happens, you’ll always be my best friend. And that if I win, you’ll get all of the credit for the work you’ve put into me these past two weeks.”

“Now that sounds like a deal.”

Alya ended staying the night with Marinette so she could send her off and say proper goodbyes the next morning. Sabine woke Marinette up with enough time to feed her, double check the packing list, and fuss over her appearance like the mom she was. By the time the limo had arrived, the four of them had gathered in the bakery for final hugs.

“The best way to make friends is through their stomachs,” Tom had said while passing Marinette a box of pastries for the people at the staging center. He gave her a big hug and held on for a while, though Marinette wasn’t complaining.

Sabine gave her a similar hug, but whispered in her ear while doing so, “Just remember that even when it feels like you’re alone, you never are. Be aware of your actions and don’t let the producers push you to be someone you are not.” Sabine’s voice caught as she squeezed Marinette a little harder and continued on, “Stay true to yourself and come home as our Marinette, not someone who has been tainted by the show.” When Marinette let go, she had tears in her eyes. How her Maman always knew what was bothering Marinette, she’d never know, but her words were welcome.

Alya’s hug wasn’t as long, as the girls had their moment the night before. After a quick hug and a whispered, “Bring home the gold,” that left Marinette laughing, she grabbed her suitcases, her box of pastries and her purse with Tikki in it and headed outside. The limo driver helped her place her bags in the trunk and she offered him a pastry before they headed out. Since Marinette was the only contestant from Paris, she would arrive alone. That meant that she would spend the 20-minute drive trying not to freak out over everything that could happen next.

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@adrianarfox

#can i steal you for a second #ml fanfic #ml fic #MLB #miraculous ladybug #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #ml ladybug #ml ladynoir #ayla cesaire #ml bachlelor au #ml au #the bachelor #bachelor! Adrien

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