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penmansparadise · 2 months

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Tommy Shelby ~ Dust in the Wind

*I DON'T OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNER*

*I do not give anyone permission to repost my work in any way (translations included)*

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Discusses infant loss/stillborn, ANGST, mild language, possibly ooc Tommy

a/n: Alright, well, it has been quite some time since I've posted on this site. First, let me get a few things out. 1) This is the most self-indulgent piece I have ever written, so if you don't want to read it, please just keep on scrolling. 2) This does not mean that I am ready to start taking requests again or that I will be regularly writing again. As stated before, this is a very self-indulgent piece because I just experienced the loss of my daughter, who was born prematurely. It has completely wrecked me, and I have just finally decided to start writing again. I am trying to navigate my loss and thought maybe writing would help. It did, and although this piece is a little darker than I usually write, it was therapeutic, and I wanted to share it because I am proud of my work. I did write it as a reader insert, but if you all read it and think it would be better as an OC story, I'll change it. Anyway, this is the first time I've ever written for Tommy, so please forgive the potential out-of-character actions he has in this story. Also, it has been a bit since I watched season 3 so forgive any mistakes. I took some liberties with the story by adding different children for Tommy and Y/N and some of the things that happened in the show. Well, I hope you enjoy this story, and would really like to know what you all think.

Y/N was no stranger to death. It was Small Heath, for goodness’ sake. Death practically ran in the water. Being deeply entrenched in the Shelby family since she was a young girl only made her acquaintance with death’s steely grip all that much closer. She had been to more than enough funerals in her 29 years of living. She was present at the cemetery when her father finally drank himself into his grave, she was there to mourn when consumption took her mother, and she showed up to support Ada when they buried Freddie. Y/N was always there when any of the Peaky boys were killed in the line of action, and she even showed up for her elderly childhood neighbor’s funeral. But this time, it was different. She wasn’t gathered in the woods on the outskirts of Small Heath to mourn for someone else. There wasn’t a stranger tucked away in the wagon standing in front of her. The Shelbys weren’t gathered to bid farewell to a distant relative or friend. The Lees weren’t generously providing this funeral for a price. No, the whole Shelby and Lee families were there for her and Tommy this time.

The heat from the flames washed over Y/N’s face, making her sweat a little, but she didn’t move. She wanted to be as close as she could possibly be. If she had it her way, she would have jumped into the wagon and let the flames swallow her whole, but Tommy’s hand tightly gripping hers anchored her to the ground. It had only been a few days. It couldn’t have been more than four, but with how time was moving, it felt like a lifetime had passed. The flames roared on, and Tommy squeezed her hand a little tighter, causing Y/N’s throat to tighten. She swallowed down the sadness trying to claw its way out of her. Y/N wasn’t going to break down in front of all these people. She didn’t want to cry at all, for that matter. It felt like it had been an endless stream of tears, and Y/N was done. If only her aching heart would catch the memo. Y/N’s eyes traveled the length of the flames until they landed on the little plaque one of the Lee boys carved for the wagon. “Lily Eleanora Shelby,” it read, and suddenly, the sadness returned with a vengeance. Y/N shut her eyes, and the events that led to this day played in her head. She was supposed to be happy. She was supposed to be full of unadulterated joy. She was supposed to be cradling her newborn baby girl. But she wasn’t. Instead, she held onto her husband’s hand like a lifeline as she watched her daughter’s wagon burn. One day. That’s all it took to completely destroy her.

Even as she stood there, watching the flames devour her daughter’s wagon, she still recounted everything she did four days ago, trying to figure out what could have possibly led to this result. Four days ago, she was a cheery 29-week pregnant woman. A stay-at-home mom who, with the help of their maid Frances, cared for her and Tommy’s three-year-old son, Benjamin. That day had started like any other. Tommy was already out, and she could hear Frances chasing Ben around his room. The little boy’s giggles echoed through the house, and she remembers smiling as she slid a hand over her round tummy. Y/N couldn’t wait for Ben to be a big brother. She got ready like any other day and eventually made her way to her son, who welcomed her presence with a hug and a kiss. The little boy rubbed her tummy, planted a chaste kiss to her navel, and smiled at her.

“I just wanted to let my little brother or sister know that I love them too, Mommy,” he had said, causing Y/N’s heart to clench. Even at three, he was a charmer, just like his father. She knelt to be at eye level with her son and lifted her hand to cradle his face.

“You’re going to be a wonderful big brother; do you know that?”

“Of course I will be, Mommy. I’ve been practicing sharing my toys with Frances and making sure I listen real good to you and daddy.” He said, standing up straighter to exhibit his full height. “Frances says I need to be a good example for the new baby, or else Santa won’t bring me any presents this year for Christmas. How outrageous is that, Mommy!?”

Y/N stifled a laugh before brushing Ben’s hair back and looking up to see Frances smirking from her spot by Ben’s block tower.

“I’m sure Santa won’t forget about you this year, honey.” She told her son. The boy gave her a toothy grin before trotting off to continue playing with his blocks.

Y/N returned to her feet and watched Ben for another minute before retreating to the new nursery. It was already put together, and she often found herself hiding away in that room. She glided her hand over the bassinet and let the soft fabric tickle her palm. The walls were already decorated with paintings of horses, some of which came from Ben, who insisted that his younger sibling have them. She sat on the rocking chair and gently rubbed her hands over her stomach, earning a little kick from her unborn child. A soft laugh fell from her lips as she looked down at her growing bump.

“Sorry to disturb you, love.” She whispered, her hands still rubbing slow circles. “Mommy just wanted to let you know she loves you very much. And so does your big brother, who is very excited to meet you.”

Another kick came.

“You’re excited to meet him, too? I’ll have to let him know.”

“Daddy loves you too, just in case Mommy forgot to mention that.” Tommy’s voice came from the doorway, causing Y/N to look up. He gave her a full smile, the one he reserved only for her and their son, and it fell over her like a warm blanket.

“Mommy was just about to get there. Had daddy not interrupted her,” she said. Tommy hummed in response as he floated across the room to kneel before her. He looked up at Y/N through his lashes and said, “Sure you were,” before removing her hands and planting a soft kiss where they had just lay.

“Daddy can’t wait to meet you,” he whispered against her stomach, his warm breath radiating throughout her body. Tommy looked up at Y/N before standing and pressing his lips to hers. When he pulled away, a smile matching his spread across her face. She was beaming. She had dreamt of being in this position for many years as a teenager, and now it was real. Thomas Shelby was hovering over her very pregnant figure in their unborn second child’s nursery. Their lively three-year-old son’s muffled laughter ricocheted off the hallway walls. It was everything she ever wanted, and she was so happy.

“What’s that look for?” Tommy asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Nothing,” she hummed, gaining a skeptical eyebrow raise from her husband. “I just love you. That’s all.”

Tommy nestled his face into the crook of her neck, peppering kisses along the exposed skin. Then he pulled back, looked into her eye, and said, “I love you more than you know, Y/N.”

He gave her one more swift kiss before standing and sauntering out of the room with a smirk. The rest of the day went by like any day usually went. She sat around and read, played with Ben, ate lunch at 1100, put Ben down for a nap at 1230, and then went back to reading. Tommy was in and out, balancing work from home and the office. She could tell that day was extra tiring from how he sighed every time he left the house. It was after Tommy left for the last time of the day that Y/N got the idea to wander down to the kitchen. When she entered, the cooks were hard at work peeling and slicing vegetables.

“Good evening, Mrs. Shelby,” the head chef began, “is there anything we can do for you, ma’am?”

Y/N clasped her hands behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels like a guilty toddler. “Um,” she said, “actually, yes, there is.” She stepped into the kitchen and moved her hands to rest on her stomach. “I was thinking that maybe tonight you and the rest of the staff could take the evening off and allow me to cook dinner.”

The head chef’s eyes widened at her statement. Everyone else stilled for a brief moment, waiting for him to speak. “Oh,” he stammered, “b-but, Mrs. Shelby, and please forgive me if I am overstepping, but shouldn’t you be resting instead of cooking?” His eyes dipped down to her protruding abdomen before landing back on her face.

“Resting? I rest all day. Really,” Y/N said, waving the chef’s comment off, “it would be nothing. I actually miss being in the kitchen. It’ll be nice. Therapeutic.” She couldn’t miss the wide-eyed stares from everyone in the room, but she chose to ignore them. When they didn’t move to leave, she stepped forward, placed a gentle hand on the head chef’s back, and began leading him out of the kitchen.

“Trust me,” she said, “I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern, though.”

Once she ushered the staff out, she began working on dinner. It had been a long time since she cooked, but it came back to her like riding a bicycle. She couldn’t escape the excitement that bubbled inside of her as she fell into a groove preparing dinner for her family again. She boiled the potatoes the staff had peeled, sauteed the peppers and onions, and braised the beef that was in the refrigerator. About an hour into cooking, a dull pain emanated from her lower back and into her hips. The dull pain slowly morphed into a pressure that she just assumed was normal 29-week pregnancy symptoms. It’s just the baby getting comfortable. The baby is just moving around and pressing a little harder than usual on my cervix. She ignored the feelings and finished cooking before asking the kitchen staff for help to bring the meal into the dining room. Once the table was set, Frances went and fetched her boys, alerting them that not only had Y/N cooked dinner, but she had also served it. She greeted the boys in the doorway of the dining room and gave each a kiss before they all sat to eat. That pain returned in her lower back and hips, making it hard to get comfortable in her seat. She let out a low groan of discomfort, and Tommy placed his hand over hers to gain her attention.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyebrows knitted together. She swallowed another groan that threatened to come out and nodded with a strained smile. Y/N could tell that her weak answer did nothing to reassure Tommy, but he didn’t press her.

“How do you like the meal?” She asked, doing her best to not sound strained against the constant pressure she felt pulsing between her legs.

Before Tommy could answer, Ben nodded with enthusiasm and stuffed a heaping scoop of mashed potatoes into his mouth. “I love it, Mommy! This is the best dinner I’ve ever had,” he said through his mouthful of food.

Y/N smiled, but it must have looked more like a grimace because this time, Tommy stood up and moved to her side. “Y/N,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, “are you sure you’re okay? Should I have Frances phone the doctor?”

Y/N grabbed his hand and squeezed it as she looked up to her husband. “I’m fine, darling. I promise. Let’s just finish dinner.” She pulled his hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. Then, using her head, she motioned for Tommy to sit again. He stared at her for another moment, the line on his forehead deepening, before sighing and retaking his seat. She kept her discomfort under wraps for the remainder of dinner because Tommy didn’t mention anything until after they had put Ben down for the night and were about to crawl into bed. The pressure and pain had only grown in that short time, and she was beginning to get nervous. She was sitting on the edge of their bed, eyes shut, and taking some deep breaths when Tommy’s hands landed on her thighs. She could feel him kneeling between her legs, but she didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t want to admit that her anxiety was consuming her or that the pain and pressure had turned into abdominal cramps. It wasn’t until she suddenly felt the bed beneath her sopping wet that she looked at Tommy. He looked down and saw the fluid dripping from her nightgown and their duvet before his gaze landed on her. She could see his mouth moving, but his voice was drowned out by her rapidly beating heart. Something is wrong. She thought. This shouldn’t be happening. I’m too early. Tommy pushed away the hair that had begun sticking to her sweaty forehead, and then ran out of the room. His voice was distant, but she could have sworn he said something about calling Polly and Ada. She wasn’t sure because all she could focus on was the sharp pain that was puncturing her abdomen and the immense pressure building between her legs. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Tommy scooped her up and lay her on their bed. What about the sheets? I’m going to ruin the bed.

She must have said those thoughts aloud because Tommy quickly said, “Don’t worry about the bed, love. We’ll get another one if we have to.” The pain was only getting worse, and she had to shut her eyes and bite her tongue to prevent a groan from escaping. She didn’t know how much time had passed before Polly and Ada came rushing into the room, shoving Tommy into the hallway. When it was just the three of them, Y/N finally let out a guttural moan. She didn’t remember this much pain when she gave birth to Ben. Something is wrong. Something is not right. Those words chanted in her head like a mantra. Polly set her up on her bed while Ada used a wet towel to wipe away the sweat beading on her face.

“Just breathe, Y/N,” Polly chirped soothingly in her ear. “Ada and I are here. We’re going to take care of you.”

Anxiety coursed through her veins and unfurled in her gut when the pressure between her legs began to increase. She tried to cross her legs and prevent the inevitable from happening, but Polly and Ada wouldn’t let her. Tears of pain and fear streamed down her cheeks. She wanted to scream at them to stop and let her try to stop this urge to push. But the pain and pressure were too much, and the only sound that came out of her mouth was a low groan.

She could feel Polly’s hand between her legs, and the words “crowning” and “push” floated to her ears. Ada took her hand, and Y/N tried with every fiber in her body to not push, but her body had other plans. She held her breath and begged her body to stop forcing her baby out of her, but it was too late. The pressure was building. Climbing to a peak that felt like it would rip her in half until suddenly, she felt relief. Her heavy breathing filled the room, and she waited impatiently for the tell-tale cries of her baby, but they never came. She opened her eyes and looked at Polly and then at Ada. They both just stared back at her, and Y/N knew something wasn’t right.

“Y/N,” was all Polly whispered, and she knew. The silence was deafening. She lay there, completely exposed, bleeding, and sweaty, and waited, but her baby gave her nothing. Her eyes shut and then, without any strength to stop it, let out a crushing wail. The tears overflowed, and when she opened her eyes again, she watched the door burst open and Tommy storm in. He moved over to where Polly held their baby and looked down at their motionless child.

“Why isn’t she crying?” He asked.

It was a girl. I had a baby girl. Even through her tears and sobs, she could see Tommy’s chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.

“Why isn’t she fucking crying, Pol!?” Tommy’s voice boomed through the room and mixed with her loud cries to create the saddest song. She could see the distress in the slant of his shoulders and how he ran a hurried hand through his cropped hair. He didn’t wait for anyone to answer his question before bounding across the room and landing on the floor next to her. His hands found hers, and she could feel them shaking. His lips pressed to Y/N’s forehead and cheeks, absorbing only some of the tears that continued to cascade down her face.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, but the way his voice cracked in her ear told her he didn’t even believe those words. “I love you, Y/N.” She could hear that his words dripped with the same despair she felt. “You know that, ey? I love you, and it’s going to be okay.”

Tommy’s words echoed in her head as she watched the fire blaze around her daughter’s wagon. She wanted to be convinced that his words were true, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe them. When the funeral finished, they all returned to Arrow House, where the wake was being held. Even being in a crowded room surrounded by family, Y/N felt alone. Her whole body was like radio static – unfeeling. Tommy’s hand was on her lower back the entire time, but she still felt like she was floating away. Nothing could tether her to this reality anymore.

Several people approached her and Tommy, and with every person, a new empty comment emerged.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” which loosely translates to, “Boy, that sucks to be you.”

“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through,” which means, “I’m really glad I’m not dealing with that!”

And, “At least you still have Ben,” equates to, “You shouldn’t be upset when you still have one kid alive.”

With every consolation tossed at her feet like the change she used to find on the ground when she was a child, this unknown sensation began to build in her chest. It was heavy and wild, like an untamed animal. It was red and bared its teeth, ready to bite. It was something Y/N had never felt before. She was usually understanding, calm, and collected. She wasn’t hot-headed or easily provoked. But now, she was quickly discovering that what she was feeling was rage. Hot and stormy, it ravaged her insides, and instead of beating it back into its cage, Y/N leaned into it, letting it hold her battered and broken soul up.

After the wake, Y/N let her sadness swallow her. She hid in one of the guest rooms daily and even went as far as to avoid Tommy. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him because every time their eyes met, two things happened. 1) she could see the grief he was carrying like cinder blocks chained to his neck, and 2) she could see the way he looked at her like she was a broken piece of artwork now. She knew she was a shell of the woman she once was, but it hurt her even more to know that Tommy saw it so plainly in her, too. He didn’t see her as the strong, independent woman he fell in love with. No, now she was a ghost of her former self, and she couldn’t take his pity for having lost their daughter and herself.

Although clearly grieving, Tommy didn’t seem nearly as phased by their loss as Y/N. He was able to jump back into work, and now, nearly a week since the wake, he was back to being fully invested. If Y/N were being honest, she envied Tommy for being able to distract himself. She couldn’t do anything but hide from the memories that haunted their home and do her best to still be a good mother to Ben. When a week finally passed since laying her daughter to rest, Y/N knew she had to do something. She would talk to Polly and beg for some sort of work. She didn’t care that Polly insisted that Y/N take some “time to heal.” She needed a distraction. Being in Arrow House felt more like a prison than a home.

Y/N got dressed and began to head for the door after handing Ben over to Frances. But, as she approached Tommy’s office, she could hear him talking. She peeked through the tiny crack to discover John and Arthur sitting at Tommy’s desk.

“Ada’s handling the Communists. She’s got someone on the inside who’s giving us information,” Tommy stated. “And,” he shuffled papers around on his desk, “I’m…dealing with Father Hughes.”

“And what about the horny princess?” John asked, leaning forward and adjusting his jacket. “You gonna figure out where her family keeps the jewels?”

Tommy waved him off. “I already know.” That single statement had both his brothers and Y/N leaning forward just slightly. Tommy lay a large blueprint on his desk, causing the brothers to stand.

“They keep their entire collection in this strong room. There’s no way to get in from above without a key,” Tommy stated, flattening the paper and looking up at his brothers.

“So, what’s your plan, brother?” Arthur asked like a good soldier. Tommy straightened slightly, and Y/N could tell he was a little uncomfortable. He pulled a cigarette from his case and slid it across his bottom lip before lighting it and taking a drag.

“We’ve gotta tunnel in,” Tommy said without hesitation. Those four words landed on the Shelby men like a grenade, and Y/N could almost feel the atmosphere shift at the statement. None of them moved. It was evident that the idea of tunneling hadn’t been a thought in any of their minds since the war. Tommy cleared his throat.

“I know,” he began, “but there’s no other way. I’ve already got Johnny Dogs ready to help. He’ll set up camp where we’ll start the tunnel.”

The air was thick, and again, neither of the brothers spoke. She knew they didn’t like the plan, but they would comply because Tommy was giving the orders. Y/N watched as John and Arthur fiddled with their suit jackets, their anxious energy hitting her like a baseball bat to the face. It wasn’t until Arthur blew out a puff of air and ran his hand through his messy hair, exposing his apprehension, that Y/N knew what she would do. Without even a second thought, Y/N opened the door to Tommy’s office, and all three men turned to face her. She was only adding insult to injury as the silence in the room became even heavier. Neither of her brothers-in-law had seen her since the wake, and the uneasy energy was almost palpable. Tommy stepped toward her but didn’t get too close, which Y/N could see his brothers noticed.

“Y/N, is everything alright, love?”

Her eyes flitted between all three of the Shelby men for a moment before finally landing back on Tommy. She knew she probably looked like a deer in headlights. Her stare was frazzled, and she knew she looked a bit harried. But she still squared her shoulders and stated with the most conviction she could muster, “Let me help.”

All three men’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, but only one spoke.

“Excuse me?” Tommy asked, incredulity lacing each word. There was no going back now. Y/N had to double down on her commitment. So, she waved her hand toward the blueprints on Tommy’s desk.

“With the tunnel.”

Tommy’s eyes turned a shade darker, and Y/N could see his jaw tick. She only glanced at John and Arthur for a second, and they both looked like they might choke on the thickness of the air. She felt like she might, too, but she held her ground. She was not a fragile porcelain doll and could help her husband like she used to. Tommy coughed, then turned to his brothers and, in a calm voice, asked, “Would you mind giving me a moment with my wife, boys?”

Neither of the brothers wasted a second before hustling out into the hallway. Once the door shut behind them, Tommy’s steely gaze landed back on Y/N. Before, she would have felt a little nervous under Tommy’s intense glare. She had never inserted herself into his shoddy business in the past. But now, she didn’t care. She needed a distraction and a way to prove that she was still a force to be reckoned with even after her loss. Y/N could see Tommy trying to contain his anger as his nostrils flared and his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. His eyes shut for a brief moment as he took a deep inhale.

“Are you fucking insane, Y/N?” He finally asked, his voice level. Y/N’s mouth fell open, and she reared back just slightly. But before she could say anything, Tommy continued.

“You’ve been avoiding me, your husband, for a week in our own home, and when you decide to finally speak to me, that is what you say?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Tommy.”

“No, Y/N!” He shouted, causing her to startle. “You can’t just move past this!”

That statement made Y/N see red. In the week since Lily’s passing, Tommy did precisely that. Y/N’s spine straightened, and her whole body became rigid.

“Why not!?” she shouted back, stomping toward Tommy. “Is that not what you did? Pretend like we didn’t lose our daughter? You threw yourself into your work. Why can’t I do the same thing?” Her chest was heaving, and as badly as she didn’t want them to, she could feel tears pricking at her eyes. She hated that she was a frustrated crier. Her fists were in tight balls at her sides, and every muscle in her body was flexed. She was ready for a fight. She was prepared for Tommy to yell back at her. In fact, she wanted him to yell at her. She wanted Tommy to tell her how stupid her idea was and that she was out of her mind. She mentally begged Tommy to scream at her for barging in on his meeting with his brothers and even thinking about tunneling. Y/N wanted to feel the passion he usually had toward her before they lost their baby. She needed him to reassure her that she was not a lost cause he was housing but his fierce wife. But he didn’t yell. The fire in his eyes dimmed, and his features softened. The pity eyes were back, and she was struck by the sadness she was trying to escape. She shut her eyes in a lame attempt to avoid looking at her husband and keep her tears at bay, but it was futile. The tiny droplets fell down her cheeks, and when she opened her eyes again, Tommy was right in front of her. He lifted his hands to cradle her face, and she hated how she melted into his touch. It had been a week since she even looked at Tommy, let alone touched him. She couldn’t lie, she missed him. But it was easier to hide from the pain and suffering they both shared than deal with it head-on.

Y/N let out a shaky breath and looked into her husband’s eyes.

“Why can’t I, Tommy?” She asked, barely above a whisper. “Let me help you. Please.”

Tommy’s thumb stroked her cheeks, wiping away a stray tear. He cataloged her features, and for the first time in a very long time, she wished she could see into Tommy’s thoughts. She stared at him and hoped that everything she wanted to say was conveyed in her eyes. I’m no longer the same woman I was a week ago. I’m a failure as a woman and a mother. I’m alone, letting my thoughts eat me alive. I’m scared you won’t love this broken woman I have become. Her eyes pleaded for Tommy to let her prove that she could still be the same person as before. She needed to prove to him and herself that she wasn’t hopeless. But when Tommy shut his eyes and let out a sigh, she knew his answer before he even said it.

He looked at Y/N and said sotto voce, “You know I can’t, love.”

Y/N’s body went rigid, and that new familiar sensation began to bubble in her gut. She could feel it rumbling and swirling, mixing with her fear and sadness, creating an uncontrollable fury. It burned like venom, but she found herself welcoming the sting. Her once soft features hardened, and Tommy noticed the change immediately. Her stare was blank, and the joy that used to fill it had vanished. Before losing her daughter, she never understood why the war had changed Tommy. She supported him while his experiences ravaged him, but she never knew why he returned with a harder exterior than when he left. But now, after suffering such a devastating loss, she understood. There is no coming back from witnessing a tragedy.

Tommy’s rough thumbs brushed against Y/N’s tear-stained cheeks and bent until his forehead rested on hers. “Where did the woman I married three years ago disappear to?” He said, his breath fanning over her face. He pulled back, his distressed stare locking Y/N in place, and whispered, “I know she’s in there.”

The words stung like a slap to her already bruised ego. She could feel the weight of that question in every bone of her body. All her fears began raging a war inside her head, and she could feel her armor cracking. She could feel the tears clogging her throat, burning as she swallowed them down. Her lungs felt like they weren’t getting nearly enough oxygen, and she was only seconds away from either crying or breaking something. With a swift step backward, Y/N separated herself from her husband. She hated to admit that her body yearned for Tommy’s hands back on her, but she batted that thought away as quickly as it appeared. Tommy slowly lowered his hands back to his sides, and she leveled him with a callous stare.

“That woman is gone, Tommy,” she spat. “She burned to ash with her daughter a week ago.” She could see the way her words landed on Tommy like bullets striking his chest. Some of her felt bad, but the angry beast slowly becoming her new persona convinced her she did nothing wrong.

Y/N waited for Tommy to say something, anything, back to her, and when he didn’t, she turned and reached for the door. Confidence that felt different from what she was used to coursed through her body like electricity. She was a little scared of who she was becoming, but those wild and fiery feelings of rage were the only things that brought her peace. Before pulling the door open, she turned back toward Tommy and said, “If you won’t let me help you, Tommy, I’ll find someone else who will. You forget, my roots run deep in this business, too.”

Tommy let out a dry laugh. “You’re really threatening me, now, ey?”

Y/N’s grip tightened around the cold door handle, and, through gritted teeth, she growled, “It’s not a threat, Thomas. It’s a promise.” Without a second look, she flung the door open and stepped out.

John and Arthur straightened at her abrupt appearance, and she just brushed past them, letting her feet carry her toward the front of their home. She knew they heard her and Tommy’s conversation, but she didn’t care anymore. This newfound boldness that her bereavement had granted her washed away any and all anxiety.

“Hope you enjoyed the show, boys,” Y/N tossed over her shoulder toward John and Arthur. “Next time, I’ll sell tickets and make talking to my husband more worthwhile rather than a waste of my time.”

She didn’t turn back around to see their reaction to her words. Instead, she showed herself out and hopped into one of Tommy’s many vehicles. She would find another way if he wouldn’t allow her to help. The image of a tall Jewish man whom she briefly met a while back when Tommy first started expanding into London entered her mind. She knew exactly who would be more than willing to give her a hand in her effort to help the Shelby family – Alfie Solomons.

200 notes · View notes

sgiandubh · 4 months

Note

@outlanderskin :"For those who have doubts: just research a little about Caitríona's dating history. See how she treated Dave and James and how she talked about them in interviews. See how she wrote about the Irish boyfriend she had in Paris in that article. Compare all of this to the impersonal way she treats or talks about Tony. Bingo🙃"

Good point 👌

Dear Good Point Anon,

You know, it's really serendipitous, as I have just finished a weeklong deep dive in very, very old press articles on (or at least mentioning) S and C, who clearly had a life before OL, thinking it would be nice to put some of my archive work skills to good service.

I think @outlanderskin was referring to C's New York Times article I reviewed and analyzed last summer, but I just found way better: a very long report in the Irish Independent's Sunday issue of July 11, 2004, focused on the next generation of Irish supermodels. Of which there could be only one, at that time: C, who dominates Roxanne Parker's 'Through Thick and Thin".

I am sorry, there is no link available to my knowledge, so we'll have to work with these very poor xerox scans:

I took the liberty of generously using my dreaded highlighter and, for the people who need to translate this post with Google, I am now taking my time to type what I find damn interesting in this almost twenty-year old article:

'If Ireland ever has a hope of having its own supermodel, then Caitriona Balfe is it. Sitting in the Pink Pony Café on Ludlow Street in New York, Caitriona swirls a wad of bread into her carrot and coriander soup while informing me that her musician boyfriend just brought her a breakfast-in-bed of cream eclairs and coffee a little over an hour ago. But that doesn't stop Caitriona from finishing her lunch and chasing it with a large cocoa-dusted cappuccino. Ebony-tressed and ivory-skinned, Caitriona clip-clops down the cobbled street after we leave the cafe, heading towards her apartment in Chinatown with Dave Mailone (sic!), the boyfriend, in tow.'

This reads, in 2024, like an interview with a more benevolent C clone from a totally different planet, indeed. A young, carefree, in love and hysterically funny C, who apparently had no problem heavily dishing out happy tidbits of her private life to her home country's press. A C also very much reminiscing anyone with a brain of the 2013-2018 bantering C, as this quote shows:

Again, you'll have to indulge me retyping it, Anon (tedious, I know - but helpful). She is remembering her real breakthrough, in November 2002, at the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, in New York:

That was the most I've ever been paid for a show. I've got 18,000 euros for one day's work! They made me get a spray tan before the show, and I was still the whitest and the least well-endowed girl in the entire show! So what did she have to wear on the big day? `Not a whole lot! I think I described my outfit on the day as something Wilma Flintstone would wear on her honeymoon night. There wasn't a whole lot to it and it had bits of fur hanging off it.'

And, for good measure, we even have a (admittedly, awful) picture with the season's fiancé, with whom things did not end well:

I know, it looks like a Pravda pic, circa 1957 and I am honestly sorry. But it's still very clear. And, which is more important, very eloquent.

Anon and reader, you draw your own conclusions on this. I know where I stand. The only guy C has similar pics taken with and released in the press or on social media is the peasant some love to bash every single day in here. Their problem, not mine.

Yes, of course Mordor will yell and hiss. Of course they will throw rotten tomatoes at the blunt knife and scream THIS IS OLD. But hey, do you have any better than this poor (but oh, so endearingly authentic) picture or than any given S&C pic before the fucking EFH and IFH, when she gradually started to turn into today's Reclusive, Restrained and Rarefied Greta Garbo wannabe?

Oh, and please: don't give me the 'he's shy' or the paperwork crap again. Her public persona has drastically changed, and not for the better. It's plain to see and there are reasons for this.

Who's to blame? This question is so wrong, in so many ways.

The question should be 'what's to blame?'

I'll stop here, Anon and I hope it was somewhat useful. Thank you for dropping by.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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the-quiet-fire-of-defiance · 5 months

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There was a post going around for a while about how kana means chicken in Finnish, making Kanafinwe = chicken Finwe. The thing is, a lot of Quenya names have te reo Māori meanings or can have funny meanings when transliterated into te reo. I've made a little list.

The most important thing to know is that 'wh' is pronounced 'f' in most dialects. Also, I took several liberties with the transliterations - when there were multiple options, I picked the one whose meaning I liked the best.

Translations

Maitimo: Māītimo means sour gardening tool. (Māī = sour, timo = a tool used to dig up sweet potatoes.) But if you're willing to mess around with the vowel sounds a little ... Māī-iti-mau [my-ee-tee-mo]* = to be a little sour to be captured.

*'au' is usually pronounced like the o in no.

Kanafinwe: Kana = wild stare / to stare wildly, making him Wild Stare Finwe.

Kano: either 1) colour or 2) bean.

Turukano: tūru means chair, so Tūrukano means chair bean

Ingo means desire, yearning, wanting. (Ingoldo becomes Ingoroto, a desire/yearning within.)

Amarie: Amārie = of peace, tranquility.

Arafinwe: ara means the waters breaking in childbirth. It also means path, but the first option is funnier.

Arakano: path bean

Angamaite: anga = to face, māī = sour, and tē = fart.

Curufinwe: Kuru has a lot of meanings including to hit/punch, to be tired, a piece of greenstone jewelry, or a mallet. So I guess that makes his name Tired Finwe, Ornamental Finwe, Mallet Finwe, or Punch Finwe. The last one would be in the imperative, making it a command.

Moringotto: we have to take out one of the t's to make this Mōringoto. It means either 1) intense unimportant person or 2) unimportant person to penetrate.

Transliterations

Feanaro: The best transliteration would be Wheanaro, which is pronounced the same as in Quenya. But my favourite interpretation is Whaea-ngaro; mother lost/missing.

(Edited to add that 'ng' is a soft sound pronounced like in sing. I'm cheating a bit here, because it's actually the equivalent of the Quenya ñ, not n like in Feanaro.)

Nelyo: We don't typically have l or y sounds. My preferred option for this would be Ngērō, meaning to scream inside.

Nelyafinwe -> Neriawhine or Nerawhine. Nera can mean nail (as in a metal nail) or to nail. Whine [fee-neh] isn't a word in most dialects, but in some very small areas it's the word for woman/women.* (In most areas the word is wahine.) So uhhhhh interpret that as you will, but this may be the single most ironic name on the list.

*Another possible transliteration of Finwe would be Whinewē, meaning woman liquid. This is physically painful to me so I'm sticking with Whine.

Findekano: In the same vein, Whinekano means bean woman or woman bean. If you prefer Whine-te-kano or Whine-tē-kano, the former means Woman The Beans and the latter means women fart beans.

Turko is Tūrukau: chair cow / nothing but a chair.

Makalaure could become Makarōre. Maka = to throw/fling and rōre = lord, making the full name Yeet Lord. A prophetic mother name.

Tyelkormo would become Terekomo. Tere= swift/fast. Komo... um. This is mostly used to describe putting on clothes. But it can also mean to thrust or insert. So basically the same as the Quenya

Moryo = Mōriau, a firm unimportant person / a howling unimportant person.

Curvo: if written as Kuruwau, in certain dialects it would mean hit me.

Pityo would be Pitiau: defeated smoke/mist.

Findarato: rātō means western, so Whinerātō = western woman.

There are also names that are pronounced the same in te reo Māori as they are in Quenya but have no Māori meaning, e.g. Anaire or Curumo.

Take this whole thing with a pinch of salt, because obviously we don't usually make word-for-word translations of transliterated names. Like I said, I've also taken some liberties with the transliterations. But to the best of my knowledge, all of these are accurate translations.

It's the House of Finwe uwu smol beans

#silmarillion #quenya #my nonsense #māori-fying tolkien #don't mind me mushing together different dialects

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illym · 2 months

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Jam is so cute here. Poor Faust. Though maybe he can eat it like that...?

Translation assistance: @yomotsu-hirasaka

ID in alt.

Cleaned and original comics below the cut.

Specific assistance:

@.yomotsu-hirasaka: helped me figure out what the hell Jam was saying. She used a lot of Kanji and Katakana, apparently. Most of it for food.

Took a few liberties with the scripting here because otherwise it wouldn't have worked with the textboxes in English. it's the same functionally, as far as I'm aware. This is why I'm not asking upfront for a new translation, but I'll never say no to one.

I especially hated trying to find a word in the first bubble. I didn't want to split up the word after 3, but different and separate were too long. I don't like distinct, but it's what works, length-wise.

Sol looks dopey here. I only just now realized that they're fighting and that Sol wasn't just... Holding his sword like that. For some reason. Ky, go get a more distinctive sword.

Sorry, this comic is just super cute. God look at panel three right now. I'll wait.

Trying something new with what I... Assume to be the artists' names above the comics, where I romanize it but don't erase the original characters. I dunno. We'll see.

#guilty gear #jam kuradoberi #faust #faust guilty gear #ky kiske #sol badguy #illym translation #oh my god i only JUST got the cause of the explosion #its fausts bomb bag. i thought jam freaked out nd kicked his ass

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bakuhatsufallinlove · 7 months

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re: 405

This is gonna be long.

First, I'm bringing this post back around to remind people that kocchi is a pronoun of ambiguous plurality.

This means that an interpretation of "we" is just as correct as an interpretation of "I." Readers may interpret it differently, but on simply linguistic grounds, they are of equal validity.

You will often see this kind of ambiguous language used in Japanese, even with characters that are forthright. The reason is one part cultural expectation that the listener will read between the lines, and one part a willingness to accept two things as simultaneously true. This exists and is frequently found in English as well, there just isn't a direct parallel for kocchi itself.

What I want most out of writing this blog, aside from personal enjoyment, is for people to understand that there can be more to a story for you to engage with, think about, and be moved by, when you step outside the boundaries of your own language and culture.

I think that is a much more interesting space to be in than a gotcha-laden approach of trying to prove something wrong or bad.

But if we are going to talk accuracy, the fact is that the fan translation many people have been upholding as superior has just as many problems as the official one. It takes just as many creative liberties, they are simply different ones.

The fan translator centered an "I" reading and, rather than using either of the two pronouns provided by the text ("OFA" and あいつ, meaning "that guy"), added a narratively-charged word ("nerd") that did not exist in the original and which (as far as I can tell) Katsuki has never used when speaking to villains. As a translator myself, I really disagree with that second choice. The official clearly missed the callback, but noticed the theme of "everyone who has faced AFO until now" and went with "we." The rest was just style over substance which prioritized edgy language to capture the aggression of the line; this falls squarely in line with what Viz has consistently maintained as its in-house aesthetic. It's disappointing, but unsurprising to me.

Fandom oscillates pretty violently between vilifying the official English release and fawning over it. Whole fan theories are built upon nitty gritty bits of the official release's phrasing; people will get excited over how homoerotic a line sounds, and it's because of how the official translator worded it, rather than any innate implication in the original Japanese.

If you do not speak Japanese, your experience of MHA is fundamentally dependent on the work of translators. I respect that everybody has their personal tastes or hopes for how the series will go, but it is deeply demoralizing as a Japanese speaker and translator to see fans who don't speak any Japanese at all act as though their opinion has the same weight of authority as people who do.

You are entitled to your preferences, but please recognize that they are based in taste, not personal knowledge. Not all Japanese translators will even agree in their interpretations, but it weirds me out that some non-Japanese-speaking fans will use this fervor to spread misinformation far and wide that proclaims as inaccurate perfectly good official translations, simply because the choices don't suit their own tastes.

The lists of "times the fan translations were better" I've seen mostly contain instances where the fan translators took greater liberties than the official release did, and some fans just happened to like the liberties that were taken.

We all reasonably hated the "best friend" fan translation of chapter 359, but somehow that isn't a point forever against fan translations the same way mistakes in the official release are?

At this point, it makes me wonder what the point of writing about linguistic nuance is, if the interest is primarily not in learning but in being told what you want to hear.

I know posting this won't win me any favor with anybody, but it's how I feel. I'm bummed about 405's last line in the official. I do hope it gets revised. But the vibes around translation details are getting decidedly unfun.

One last thought: if you well and truly want to experience MHA unfiltered, learn Japanese. I mean this sincerely, I'm not trying to be a jerk. We live in an age where it is easier and more possible than ever to acquire a new language, talk to people around the world, and absorb yourself in culture and history.

If you want to remove middle-men and develop your own relationship with a work unfettered by the tastes, biases, or choices of others, learn the language. It won't be easy, but I can guarantee you won't regret broadening your horizons and discovering even more beautiful stories in the world.

#mha 405 #mha manga spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha spoilers

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thesimquarter · 8 days

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hello! sims 2 miniopolis update!

first of all, my current sims 2 urbz sims >:3 outside of the obvious change of a default skin, they don't look that different compared to my old versions of them. But! believe me they are better.as well, this time! there's the DS exclusive characters and a few sims intended to be townies. In order, Lloyd, Red Man, Daschell Swank, Chet R. Chase, Bucki Brock's sister, Joe from the Flea Market (yes, he does have a name), Ava Cadavra, and Gordie Puck. Indeed, they're very red.

And an update to the town in general! I've finished most of the easy lots now, mostly having harder lots to do now. Such as the Mausoleum, Circus, Brownstones + Slice O'Life (which I… attempted. can you believe that the map of this game doesn’t follow the laws of physics?), etc.

New lots include: - Junked Schoolbus (which IS connected to the Chopper Garage visually but they aren't the same lot) - Chopper Garage (which i am not going to put underneath the road/jail! it looks cool in-game, but possibly impossible to do in the sims 2 but it makes no sense spatially!! the other side of the garage would just be underground!!!) - Cemetery (Mostly just empty buildings for aesthetics. No graves… yet. and there probably won’t be until the final version of the hood.) - Miniopolis Chronicle (TINY) - Miniopolis Hospital + University (if this was ts3 i probably would have made them separately) - Club Xizzle (what is it supposed to look like on the outside + should there be two?) - Glasstown Megamall - Cinema d'Urbania (how do you make a cinema in this game? big TV?)

I redid King Tower as well, just to make it fill out a 3x3 lot instead of a 2x2 lot, and Café Multiplaya has a new outdoor seating area (to fill in space). The Coffee Shop, the Market, and Glasstown apartments were in my last post, just kinda in the background. The Market has a lot of creative liberties taken to it, as I just didn't like how it translated into the Sims (as in it's made to represent the real-life French Quarter Market more). The Glasstown Apartment has a few other units in it for some of the Urbz sims (more on that in a bit!)

I removed pretty much, all the elevation from the .s4c terrain. It's easy to put back butttt, the sims 2 just doesn't work in a way that's friendly to sloped lots (and simcity 4 for slopes that take <1 unit of distance, you can't make steep cliffs in these games. so, basically, due to the compactness of the city, there isn’t enough room to add in slopes without making it all janky). They may come back at the end if we can Wizard the slopes to work the lots, but for now...

Ignore the weird road off the Sim Quarter. I was experimenting with what could be done with the riverboat. I was thinking about putting it on a beach lot and making a joke about it being temporarily landlocked (read: i already did) and was trying to find a good, functional place to put it. There may be other ways to do a riverboat though… hmmm

Anyways onto housing for the Sims. So, the Glasstown Apartments has a few more units to fit in a few other characters (Lottie Cash (I did manage to squeeze a bowling alley in there), Lily Gates, and Darius) but other than that? Very little! (I did Ewan’s House. however, it’s just a box; i took modest pretty literally). I might make a post soon where I talk about where each Urb would probably live, just as an excuse to talk to myself for a little while.

#ts2 #urbz #miniopolis #ts2 miniopolis

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

Note

Hiii

Idk if you have done this before but a Morpheus x reader one where Dream has been recently set freed and is so touched deprived that when he met up with reader once mode after being separated for a century he can't control himself and it leads to some sexy stuff in which it leads to them breaking the bed (kinda like the honeymoon scene in twilight 🤭)

Just straight up desperate needy Morpheus hours 🫶🏻

Caged

Dream of the Endless x Demon Hunter!Reader

Summary: Dream has made himself believe that he is alone in the world, nothing has further solidified this that being imprisoner for a century. Who'd have thought he'd find warmth in one of the coldest people alive.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, smut (biting, marking, dom/sub dynamic, hair pulling, vaginal penetration, oral [m receiving], edging ig?, unprotected sex, brat!dream idk it just happened, praise kink [uh... reader talks to him like a god during sexy time so]), hurt/comfort ig, reader's so angry HAHAHH T_T, fluff, etc.

A/N: im not in the mood for smut but i might be when i write this. update MINORS DNI hello nonnie i am finally in the mood for smut HAHHAAHHA and i am in the mood to ruin dream's life (: i took a lot of creative liberties i have no idea why i made this so long so i hope you enjoy it my dear <3 another day another 5k smut fml Also i invented a lot of stuff for reader, like giving Morpheus a Roman name so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just just just roll with it along with my most definitely wrong google translated Latin ok? ok. Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @sloanexx anOTHER one (continuation) "Petty And Yours"

"You know," I swirled a watermelon lollipop in my mouth, "you're so pathetic for that."

A breeze blew back my maxi dress and I crossed my arms at the fact I was being ignored by the uncharacteristically warmly dressed man.

The park bench he was sat in the middle off had some fallen leaves that were slowly tumbling down to the ground with the push of the wind. I give him a moment to respond. I huff at his continued silence.

"Earth to Dream?" I call louder.

Still nothing.

"Somnium Regem?"

A bird makes a sound as a large piece of bread is gobbled down its throat.

"Hey! Sulky trench coat man!" I bark.

Finally, the man feeding pigeons turns to me.

His eyes are dull and bright all at once, a shade of glistening blue that had no life behind them. I raise my brows, lips pulling upward in distaste, "you remind me of that bat in Gotham. So emo for no reason," I scoff, straightening my arms, "everyone's parents die at some point."

"Why are you here, demon hunter?" the being grips his baguette.

I scoff again, "I'm here because I like you, baby."

He turns away from me, tearing up bread, haphazardly then dropping it in front of small creatures. I grimace as the birds flock over to the bread like they had nothing better to do-- which they don't.

"I do not enjoy your bitter sarcasm, eight," Dream says pointedly.

I roll my eyes, walking over to him, fingers rolling the lollipop stick sticking by the side of my mouth, "well, if you didn't ask me stupid-" I push his legs together so that I can sit next to him, "-fucking questions, then maybe I wouldn't want to constantly drop kick you."

Dream hastily moves to the side as I plop down next to him, crossing my legs as I lean back and stretch my arm out on the backrest. I look at him as he looks at me. Wind blows at both of our hair. I move his dark strands along with the breeze so that I would not poke at his already glassy eyes.

He blankly stares.

I shrug in expectance, "Domina told me you've been sulking, and that I'd find you here, just like how she found you here days ago."

Dream blinks, "my sister should not have troubled you with needless concerns."

I furrow my brows at his response. I roll my eyes incredulously, "you are so fucking stupid."

He gives me side eye before turning back to his pigeons.

"You know, for someone who should have a profound understanding of the world, you clearly don't know anything."

The Endless hisses under his breath, "silence."

"What?" I give him a look, "don't like that?"

I can see him almost going against himself as not to sneer at my grilling.

I pout exaggeratedly and speak as though I was a child, "wha' you gon' do 'bout it? You gon' kill me now?" I raise my hands and monotonously hark, "oh no help, I'm so scared."

"I do not know why Death sent for you," he quips, breaking his gaze from the birds to narrow his eyes at me. He continues crumbling bread onto the ground.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I straighten and face forward, "that's because I'm the most irritating bondservant she has," I prop my elbows on my legs, "which is effective for making people want to do my bidding in return for me shutting up."

"I shall not leave," he looks to the feeding animals, "I am keeping the pigeons company," he mutters, "they appear... lonesome."

I wipe my hands on my face, pulling the lollipop out of my mouth as I sigh, "intenta et tenera domina." My eyes twitch in annoyance when I muttered 'the attentive and tender lady' in my mother tongue. "I should have known we were playing therapist today."

I shake my head, popping the candy back in my mouth, grabbing the bread from his hand. He turns to me, helplessly watching, unable to fight against me; he knows I'd bite his finger off if he touches me.

"Ever heard of projecting, Somnia?" I hiss, chucking his baguette as far off as I can.

He watches the projectile disappear into a bush.

He glares at me.

Goosebumps form on my skin when he speaks, "visne noctes noctes te affligere?"

Admittedly, the roll and click of his tongue speaking Latin did make me stiffen, though, 'do you want nightmares to plague you tonight?' was a threat so empty to me.

I sniffle, retorting in the same language, "I haven't visited your nightmarish domain since its castle walls began to crumble."

Dream takes his turn to freeze.

I tilt my head, crushing the lollipop between my teeth, "personally," I pull the stick out my mouth, tucking it in Dream's pocket, who does nothing when I do so, "I take enough trips to hell to not want to visit something that mirrors it so well. Not when I'm supposed to be dreaming of heaven."

I can see how my words strike through him.

I notice how his stoic and pale face hardens and loses its color even more.

I continue to egg him on, "I feel bad for your dreamers who think the drab ones the have at night are the best you can do."

I can almost hear the gloom radiate off him.

I purse my lips and stand, "speaking of nightmares, I caught your nightmare once," I place my hands on my hips, "I thought the gruesome serial killing was demonic in nature, so I tracked the killer, only to find it was no other than your Corinthian."

Dream looks at me, expressionless, as I raise my brows, "did you handle him, Somnium Regem?"

The Dream King looks like he does not want to talk to me at all now. I give him a challenging look and needlessly straighten out his coat for effect.

He straightens up, then brings his hands in his pocket, pulling out a skull that had teeth where his eye sockets should have been.

I look at the thing, feeling a swirl in my stomach, "poor In Oculis."

Dream visibly reacts to the Corinthian's old Latin name, The Eyeless.

He remnant of his creation disappears from the palm of his hand, "how long have you gone without sleep?"

I turn away from him, shrugging at his U-turn back into that conversation, "does it matter? I won't die."

"It matters because Somnium Regem is inquiring this of you."

I turn to him and repeat my answer, "I told you, ever since your castle began to crumble, it's just be me, myself, and coffee."

Somnia stands, towering over me, uncharacteristically high, "you have not slept in a hundred years?"

I look up at him with knit brows, "has anyone slept in a hundred years?"

"Then at once you must-"

"I'm not here-" I grab his collar, tugging him down slightly closer to me, "-to talk about my sleep pattern, Somnia. I'm here to make you stop sulking."

"That is not your forte, demon hunter," he brings his face close to mine, "perhaps if you were from the fifth."

"Fuck you," I snap, getting on my tiptoes to near his stupidly high face, "I'm good at everything."

Somnia grumbles something under his breath.

I release my grip on his coat and snap my fingers, "and besides," I raise my arms out to the side. I take one step back and allow myself to fall backwards. I then dip into the portal I conjured in the ground, swinging up until I was standing on the other side.

I turn over my shoulder, finding Dream was already standing there behind me. I grin, "I'm the only person who knows what it's like to be trapped for a hundred years."

Now in the confines of my home, I strut over to my sofa where an axe was placed and consecutively forgotten, "though, mine was eight hundred."

I turn to Dream, who suddenly looked uncomfortable.

I laugh at him, "wow. You finally feel bad for me? You used to be so indifferent when I mentioned that to you."

My eyes zero in on the note on my axe, hissing at the reminder that I meant to put it away last week. I grab the piece of paper, instinctively crumpling it. I instantly regret my innate inclination to destroy, cursing under my breath, then flattening out the thing.

"Make yourself at home, Morpheus," I rub the paper in my hand, "let me just put this thing back where it came from."

I grab the axe and prop it on my shoulder.

Dream does not make himself at home; he instead follows me as I walk to the weapons room. I give him a look, "I guess you can feed the gremlins in the basement if you want."

"I would rather follow you."

I shrug, "ok then."

I make my way down the hall, and open the light in room once I enter, revealing the age old trinkets and gadgets my family has been using since the first generation. I bring the note to a chamber that then seals the object with the rest of the artifacts like it.

Dream further scrutinizes the thing as I walk to the axe holders. "Constantine?" he says after reading what was written on the note.

I grunt as I put away the borrowed item, "the idiot wanted to borrow this," I motion to the axe in my grip, "I told her she can't touch it, touched it anyway, didn't die" I huff, after securing the axe back in its place. I place my hands on my hips as I turn to Dream, "and now I got a thank you note in return."

Dream turns back to the note that read: Thxxx -Constantine.

"Items of gratitude are the best bait for a soul suckers," I say, then pointing to a bunch of dark hued orbs on a shelf before walking over to him, "almost as good as nightmares."

I reach his side as he looks out to his gift to the sixth, the sixth generation of my family, Nightmare Marbles. They were largish glass spheres that harnesses the darkness of nightmares; a demon's equivalent to chocolate bars.

"And you relived your worst nightmare to procure so much bait, eight?" Dream whispers, turning to me with a tense expression.

I give him a look, "didn't you say my grandma from the third generation was also a sucker for punishment?"

"She did not go through her worst nightmare 78 times to make nightmare marbles."

I turn to the shelf, "damn, you managed to count all that so quickly?"

"Eight, this is-"

"What? I'm genuinely impressed!"

I freeze when he calls out my actual name. He rarely did that. In fact, there were only a few people who knew my real name and did not call me eight. Eight, as in I am from the eighth generation of demon hunters from my family. It became my name because, well, I was the only left, which was why I could not die.

I feel my belly roll at the sound. I clear my throat, weakly speaking, "what?"

"I did not gift that to your grandparents only to have you use it to punish yourself."

"Why would I want to punish myself?" I mutters, "I'm not you."

Dream is silent.

I sigh, walking out of the room, "after living out eight hundred years in hell in one fucking day, you tend to instinctively get fucked up in the brain."

I make my way down the hall, and at the end, Dream was there, already waiting for me. I give him a quick look as I pass him, "the nightmare doesn't hurt me anymore."

"Eight," he calls. I do not stop on this account. I do, however, when he asks, "why are you lying to me?"

I suck in a breath, keeping it deep in my lungs. I feel him walk up to me. I feel him take my hand.

I turn to him, sighing and brows knitting at his affection. He is still towering over me, and don't feel like craning my neck up so I don't look at him. I tighten my grip on his hand, "why are you lying to me?"

When I finally look up at him, he releases a breath. I release his hand and get on my tip toes to grab his cheeks. It was as though his glassy eyes were waiting for this moment to allow the tears to fall.

I knit my brows at the unexpected reaction. I sigh at the sight of him.

"I did not lie to you," he responds like a secret.

"Really?" I speak in disbelief as I wipe tears on his cheeks, "was it the pigeons that were lonesome, or you?"

"... both..."

I fall back onto my feet, hands trailing down to his chest, "you're right. I suck at... comfort..." I take the lapels of his coat between my fingers, "only cause I'm rough around the edges. Sorta like you," I hum, raising a brow at him, "except I can admit to it, whereas you-"

I push his chest, making him walk back all the way to the sofa my axe was moments ago. I force him down, and down he goes, bouncing on the cushion. He looks up at me as I pull away and give him a soft smile, "you need that coaxed out of you."

I was meant walk away from him, but he grabs my thigh before I can.

"Non potes exspectare dicere tale quid me derelinquas."

You cannot expect to say such a thing then leave me.

I look at the hand hooked behind my thigh. I raise my brow quizzically, "I have work."

"I am your work," he says, other hand coming to my other thigh, "your Lady commanded you to take care of me."

I snort, grabbing his chin, "no, she told me to make you stop sulking."

"Yes, she did," he hums, hands trailing down my legs, grabbing the ends of my skirt.

"You were literally crying a moment ago."

"You're a tear in my heart."

"That's a twenty one pilots song."

"And I am eager for you to make me stop sulking."

Dream's eyes are fixed on me s he leans in and begins bunching up the fabric in his palms, slowly bringing them up with his hands.

I release a sigh when his hands make it back where it was before, though perhaps a bit higher this time. I place my hands on his arms, stopping him from continuing. He turns stills like a statue before me.

I nibble my lower lip before speaking, "if we're going to do this, we do this in my terms."

His lips instantly curve up in response. He nods slowly, "in imperio tuo."

On your command.

I push him back upon hearing that, a lump in my throat forming at the words from my mother tongue. I quickly climb on to him, straddling his legs, fingers combing into the roots of his hair by his nape.

I immediately lock his lips with mine. His hands work much quickly this time around, ripping my skirt all the way up, making me raise my hands so that he can pull my dress off me.

I moan against him when his hands begin to scratch up my back. He moans against me when I grind down on him.

I pull away, catching my breath so I could take my turn in undressing him. He moves to help me rid of his ridiculous coat and when he grips his shirt, I hiss at him, giving him a stern look, "don't spoil my fun."

I then push myself off him and bunch up his shirt in my hand, dragging him all the way back to my bedroom.

Once we're there, I push him onto my bed and crawl on top of him, perching on top of his groin, slowly digging my hands into his sides, underneath his clothes.

I reveal his stomach to me, pressing my fingers down the middle of his skin, "so pretty."

His hand trail up my thighs, kneading at the flesh, humming, "yes," he tugs at my panties, "you are quite exquisite."

I chuckle, lips curving into a smile, "aww, you're going to make me blush," I swat at his hands, "hands off."

He reluctantly obeys.

At this point, I rid him off his shirt and his hands immediately move to come back to my thighs. I swat him away again, to crawl down and begin to attentively kiss his chest.

I sigh against him as his hands come to my sides. I feel the purr-like sounds he produces as I suck and graze my teeth on his muscly pec. I hum in approval when I pull away and see the blazing red mark I left on his burning white skin, "if you morph my art off your body, I will give you nightmares."

I begin working on his skin again when he laughs at my words. I feel the vibration on my lips. He rubs my shoulder with his hand, "a titillating thought."

I look at him from where he was looking down at me and bite down on the side of his ribcage. He grunts in response. I raise a brow at him, "it's a threat, Somnia."

His eyes darken, where mine sparkle.

Without warning, he pulls my head back by my hair, and pushes himself up by his other arm, "who do you think you're threatening, child?"

I wince, chuckling under my breath, "clearly this wanton creature beneath me."

He pulls me back by my hair more as he sits up all the way. I make a sound as he grabs my thigh and skids me closer on him.

Dream brings his face close to mine, nostrils flaring, as if in warning.

I chuckle, licking his lips, "remember, sweetling," I tug on his lower lip, releasing it to say, "on my command."

He sucks in a deep breath.

I raise a brow, "you wouldn't want me to leave you, now do you?"

He sighs, releasing my hair.

I push him back down, clicking my tongue as I do so, "naughty boy," I chastise, "wanting to take the reins so badly."

I begin to undo his pants, holding in my laugh at the visible imprint on him, "maybe I should take precautions before undoing you, hmm?"

I push myself off him and leaning to my side. His hands take hold of my waist as I grab something from my bedside table. I look down on him with a grin as his hands knead at me. I shake my head, "off."

Dream stills.

"Get your hands off me, Dream."

He obeys and so I take both his wrists in front of me. The golden serpent bracelet begins to then slither around his wrists. He watches this contraption shackle him and grunts, "you mock me, demon hunter."

I chuckle, moving off him, "well, you're being quite difficult."

Dream helplessly watches as I get off the bed and walk to the side of the room. I hear him try to rip at his cuffs. I laugh as I grab a silver spear, "that was a gift from Jupiter. Try not break it."

I then plummet my spear at the base of my bed. I wiggle a finger at Dream, beckoning him over, "now come over, beloved Somnia."

He does not struggle as he crawls over to me with bound hands.

"On your back," I say, "hands up."

Dream does just that, rolling on his back, bringing his bound wrists to the spear where the serpent then begins to constrict itself.

"Very good, my king."

The king makes a sound of distaste, which I heartily laugh at.

I waste no more time and quickly go to him, ridding him of his remaining clothing like a kid on Christmas morning.

My lips involuntarily part at the size of him, "fuck. I forgot you made yourself... bigger."

I find offence when he chuckles and croons, "will this be a problem?"

"No," I quip quickly.

"Very good, then," he smiles.

I mock, "very good then."

Once it was now just me, him, and his pulsing length, I begin my ministrations. I crawl back on him and grin, grabbing his hardened member, "not quite a watermelon lollipop but-" I cut myself off and take him in my mouth.

He heavily breathes out and shuts his eye. I giggle in approval over his reactions, one hand coming to my core, already slickened with arousal.

I lap my tongue around him before taking him deeper. I press both my hands on his thighs when his legs begin to stir.

I dig my nails into his hips and slowly constrict my teeth around him as I bob my head up and down him. In a sort of challenge for myself, I make an attempt to take him all. The moment he hits the back of my throat however, I begin to struggle and will myself to relax to further take him in.

When I begin to gag, I pull myself off and catch my breath, leaning my weight into, "you did this on purpose," I scoff, "you knew this would happen."

"I am not omniscient," he laughs, "I did not foresee this-"

"Oh fuck you," I cut him off, "I'm going to fucking make you cry."

Oh, you can bet that he found that funny.

His laughter was cut off when I removed my underwear, chucking my panties and bra to where ever, then mounted myself on him. I am glad I am wet enough to take him in but I cannot withhold the whine that I tried to conceal as I did so. Fuck him and his magnum cock.

Well... that was what I was doing.

Once I am on him, he lets out a moan and the pulls at his shackles, making the snake bracelet glow and constrict tighter on him.

I take my turn to laugh this time around, and my core, which was still busy adjusting to the size of him, flutters around him. I don't say it as self-satisfied as I wanted to, "serves you right."

He calls out my name. It makes my stomach roll.

I fell him slowly rock his hips into me and I push down on his chest, whining at his attempts, "stop! Stop! Give me a fucking chance."

He instantly stops and looks up at me with a worried look, "I apologize, I-"

"Shut the fuck up," I shake my head, "the more you speak, the more I want to fuck you up."

Dream presses his lips into a thin line, but he obeys.

After a while, I allow myself to ride him like an eager jockey.

I rock myself on him at a slow pace. I heave in and out at the overwhelming feel of him. My toes curl at the bundle of nerves he hits every time he fills me up to to my fucking stomach.

I sigh as I rub on my sensitive nub as I press my weight forward. I close my eyes and chew on my lip at the sensations. I drag my flesh out of my teeth as I begin to feel pressure build within me.

"More," Dream whines, craning his head up to look at me.

I look down on him, narrowing my eyes, "pretty boys like you don't ask," I mutter, "they beg."

I push my hands on his chest and lean down to give him a kiss, all while keeping the slow pace of my thrusts. When he meets me halfway to take my lips in his, I dodge him, then rub my nose on his, "I said beg. Beg for me."

He moves his head closer to catch my lips, and I pull all the way back, sitting up again to look down on him in disappointment. He whines, pulling his arms, making my contraption glow and constrict all over.

He drops his head in defeat. I chuckle.

"Beg," I call out louder.

Dream gulps, "please."

"What?"

"Please."

"Please, what?" I cease the roll of my hips, "please stop?"

He heaves, lifting his head back up, ripping at his wrist, "please don't stop."

"Mmm," I nod, "but I'm a little confused, my lord," I massage my breasts, "what exactly should I be doing?"

He watches my hands for a moment. I'm amused it actually distracts him. I chuckle, "Earth to Dream?"

Dream sighs.

"Somnia?" I drag out.

"Move your hips," he says breathlessly.

I hum, pretending to debate his words.

"Please," he adds, making me smile.

I rub my wetness on him, "you mean like this?"

Dream sighs, gulping roughly, "no."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but I have no idea what you mean, my king," I pout, making no attempt to give him what he so clearly wanted.

"Thrust into me," he sputters, "ride me like an eager jockey."

I snort, breaking into a laugh. I feel a rush shoot through me. My hands come up to my cheeks, "you heard that?" I giggle, "dirty, dirty boy, listening to my thoughts."

"Please," he strains, pulling at his binds again. He drops his head, huffing, "please move."

"Well, now that you're asking me so nicely," I muse, shifting on him, hands falling back on his chest. I begin to move up and down, slow and steady, emptying out and getting filled right back in with his stiffened length.

He moans in approval, eyes closing in pleasure. I sigh and lick my upturned lips, "better, baby?"

"Yes," he drags out a breath, "yes, thank you."

I groan at his words, moving a bit faster, "oh fuck, that's hot. Am I making you feel good?"

"Yes. Very good."

I whine, "fuck."

As I move on him, I savor his feel, how he's deliciously stretching me out and how my insides were sucking him in.

I momentarily slow when I hear a strained crackling sound in front of me. What the fuck was that?

It takes me about two seconds to realize it was my bracelet. Oh fuck.

I feel my inside flutter at the possible threat literally about to unravel before me. I lick my lips, "you enjoying yourself, Dream?"

He only moans in response.

"That's not an answer, darling?" I hum, slowing down all over again.

His eyes break open and his jaw tenses. I hear a fucking cracking sound. Is that my spear or my bracelet?

"Come on, use your words, Prince of Stories."

"I want you to move faster," he mutters gutturally.

What the fuck, is that my floor?

"Please?"

I dig into the side of his ribs and give in to his pleas. He moans and shuts his eyes again, but the strain on my bracelet does not waver. I watch as the object burns brighter.

I whimper when Dream begins to move beneath me. I tear my gaze from his wrists to his face, scowling at him, "behave."

To my surprise, he obeys, then whispers, "please kiss me."

I coo at his sentiment, feeling my core for him. I lean over and plant my lips on him. I moan at the feel of his tongue sneaking into my mouth.

I bring my grip onto the mattress and begin moving faster than I have yet. I whine and pull away from him to catch my breath, "giddy fucking up horsey."

It takes me a second to realize what I just fucking said.

The next moment, I grunt and find myself giggling. I crack myself up with how wholeheartedly stupid and dick delirious I've become. As I continue to laugh, I find myself slowing to prioritize my amusement while I screw my eyes shut.

I was soon very clear that it was a poor choice.

All at once, there was a loud snapping sound. The moment I opened my eyes, I behold a broken bracelet and a bent spear. Oh, yeah, and he unamused Dream of the Endless that was now slowly sitting up in front of me.

I release a final chuckle.

My sounds go dry as his hands take my hips and he brings his face closer to me, "I do not appreciate the fact you're so easily distracted while making love to me, my dear."

I grunt when he bucks into me. My arms wrap around his shoulders as my voice hikes up with his movements. I wrap my legs around his torso as I mumble halfheartedly, "we're not making love, we're... we're fucking."

He groans at that, moving in to kiss me feverously. I whine when his fingers rub at my core. Dream pulls away, forehead resting on mine, "you mock me so readily."

"Yeah," I huff, "well you deserve-"

I choke on my next words as I plummet back into my bed where Dream takes the reins fully, rocking into at a tempo that pleased him, and, well, me.

I mindlessly call his name, legs and arms wrapping around him as he moderately fucks into me. My bed creaks at his force.

It doesn't take long for him to speed up.

I whine and screw my eyes shut.

"Is this a good pace? Am I pleasing you?" he mutters against my neck.

I open at the sound of his words. He did not speak with the same taunting tone I had. He asks me this in genuine inquiry, genuinely intent on finding out if he was, in fact, pleasing me.

I pepper his jaw with kisses then nibble on his earlobe before replying, "yes, my sweet boy," I moan, "you can move a little faster if you want to."

"I want to," he quickly responds.

I sigh, "then faster, baby."

He moans and kisses me in response. His movements rip out a deep cry from deep within me as he hastens.

"That's it," I struggle, one hand digging into his unruly hair, pulling at it, "you're doing so good for me. So good."

The king growls against me, sucking at my neck, just below my jaw.

"Fuck," I sigh, "dulcis somnium meum."

My sweet dream.

He adjusts me beneath him, hands coming to thighs, squeezing the area as he presses deeper, "you feel so good around me."

My toes curl at his words and my skin breaks out in goosebumps at his hot breath.

"Pretiosum venatorem," Dream dictates 'my precious hunter,' sucking on the base of my throat, "such beautiful sounds."

My breath quickens with his actions. I roll my head back as my fingers dig into his spine.

"Dic quomodo sentio," he breathes against me, "quaeso."

Tell me how I make you feel... please.

"Good," I whimper, "great," I whine, "et stupri magna." So fucking great.

"Beautiful," he retorts, "so beautiful like this, so beautiful beneath me."

I feel myself coil up around him. He seems to feel it too, since his one hand leaves my thigh to rub at my pulsing heat.

He muses to me in Latin. He speaks poetry to me in my native tongue, praising my lips, my breath, my warmth, and how I was taking him so well.

I return his poetry with deep grunts and age old curses that would make the Roman deities shun me in sore displeasure.

And yet Somnia kisses me, practically eating up my vile words like honey and delivers me into pure adoration, pure fucking ecstasy.

I yelp when I break beneath him. I whine and rip at him, teeth digging into his shoulder, legs constricting around him tighter. The sensation is further intensified when I feel him release into me, pace now maddeningly fast, brutal, and delicious.

"Yes, Dream!" I call, helplessly spiraling under him. "Praise to the Dream Lord," I find myself whining in Latin as I ride out my high and quiver out all the breath that's left in my lungs.

He moans, kissing my cheek, replying in the same language, "I accept you adoration." He takes a moment before dragging out my name from his lips. It makes my stomach roll even further and my body tense tighter.

The Dream Lord takes my thighs into his hands again as he rides the both of us through our peaks, brutal yet caring all at once.

I melt into a bag of boneless flesh the next moment.

When he eventually relents, I catch my breath against his jaw, rubbing my nose on his skin affectionally.

Once he is stagnant above me, he turns to me and places kiss on my lips. After a moment, he pulls away and opens his mouth to speak. He doesn't get to however, as suddenly my bed creaks and all at once, one leg snaps and I squeal as we both slide roughly down to the floor.

I cling onto him for dear life as he pushes up against me, both keeping us from falling any further and poking into the root of my womanhood. My mouth releases a lewd cry in response.

I catch my breath as he lifts his head up and surveys the damage.

"Did you," I pant, "fucking break my bed?"

Dream turns to me, lips barely parting, "I..." he starts, "my apologies."

#the sandman smut #the sandman fanfic #dream of the endless fanfic #morpheus smut #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless smut #the sandman fluff #sandman x reader #dream smut #dream x reader #dream fanfic #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless fluff #the sandman x reader #morpheus fluff #the sandman x you #dream x you #dream of the endless x you #morpheus x you

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futurebritishgentleman · 7 months

Text

so i saw an old drawing meme on pixiv the other day. some of the filled out versions were REALLY good. i don't see drawing memes that often in fandom nowadays and that's a crime so i took the liberty of translating it!

but then i decided since this meme is from 2011 it's lacking a few characters. so i added MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and here's a transparent version for convenience if you wanna get funky with the bg:

now go. draw your favs badly without reference and tag me so i can see your beautiful creations

#case notes #professor layton

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nariism · 7 months

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links ➠ event masterlist ✧ rules ✧ send a request!

STATUS: CLOSED

thank you everyone for participating <3

hiii all my lovelies💗 i'd like to give a huge huge huge thank you for 1k followers and friends (!!!), 4.5 months of endless support, and the chance to be a part of such an amazing community of people :')

i've always been on and off with writing because of my self-doubts but i've come to absolutely love writing as a hobby and remember why i enjoyed it so much in the first place back when i was a dweeby 13 year old kid 🫶

i would love to do a small appreciation writing event for anyone who would like to participate. it's open for everyone so don't feel nervous to send an ask! see below the cut for more info.

if you're just stopping by, then i'd like to tell you thank you for everything!! 💐

info — you choose 1-3 prompts/tropes + a character and i'll write a drabble/one-shot! requests can be sent to my inbox like this (preferably off anon so i can let you know when it's up!)

prompt number: fandom/character: additional info: (ex. tropes you want, angst, fluff, platonic, etc. anything you'd like to add that you want to see!)

i will be closing requests for this event on 13 Nov EDT

the same rules apply as my regular writing rules. please see those before you send a request!

note. all writings will be x gn!reader. i have free creative liberty for anything i write and i may not get around to all of the requests if i can't think of anything for the combination submitted. i am also busy with life stuff so it might take me a bit to finish things. remember, this is all for fun!

FANDOMS/CHARACTERS OPEN

blue lock: itoshi sae, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi

genshin impact: open for any characters!

haikyuu: miya atsumu, miya osamu, kita shinsuke, ushijima wakatoshi

other: hayakawa aki, gojo satoru, geto suguru, loid forger (💐)

++ i would consider characters not listed here that you want to see!

TROPES

1. friends to lovers / childhood friends to lovers

2. forced proximity

3. fake relationship / marriage of convenience

4. soulmates (any rendition)

5. coffee shop

6. roommates

7. accidental confession / accidental kiss

8. handcuffed together

9. hurt & comfort

10. enemies / rivals to lovers

11. mutual pining

12. oblivious pining

13. one bed

14. drunk confession

15. second chance

16. unrequited love

17. matchmaking / matchmaking gone wrong

18. domestic

PROMPTS

19. "do we like... hold hands now?"

20. "please, come home."

21. "i could kiss you right now!"

22. "oh no, the power went out, however will we stay warm?!" (/s)

23. "we fell asleep by accident and woke up as a mess of tangled limbs."

24. "i'm done waiting."

25. "i've always needed you!"

26. "you look so beautiful in the moonlight."

27. "i think i'm in love with you."

28. "don't look at me that way."

29. "do you want my jacket?"

30. "wait, don't pull away... not yet."

31. "i can't sleep."

32. "i can't believe it took you this long to admit you like being the little spoon."

33. "your necklace fell off... let me put it back on for you."

34. "i could stay up all night talking to you."

35. "say it again. please."

36. "we're fighting. i'll take the couch tonight." ➡️ (bonus) "we were fighting???"

++ feel free to add any you want! these are just some examples

i'm so thankful to each and every one of you. i hope you enjoy! <3

links ➠ event masterlist ✧ rules ✧ send a request!

#— whispers in the wind: 1k event ✉️#pls don't flop please #blue lock x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #haikyuu x reader #csm x reader #jjk x reader

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kindafooey · 1 year

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Käärijä (feat. Vinttikoira) - Aikuinen, translated to English by meee :3

Hey yall! I've been hoping for an excuse to do full translations of Käärijä's lyrics, and I saw a couple of songs requested by @verminetroglodyte in the tags of that one post, soooo here's the first one! Prolly gonna follow up with Menestynyt yksilö tomorrow night :D I've taken some minor artistic liberties here in order to match the vibes of the original lyrics as closely as possible, so I'm open to any feedback and questions you might have in mind. Oh and do request more song translations if there are any you'd like to see! I love doing this, haha.

Korkeakouluttamattomuudesta huolimatta mä oon hyväntuulinen / Despite my lack of higher education I'm a cheerful type

Joku vois kysyy, että oonko mä hullu / Someone may ask if I'm a fool

Voin vastata, että oon hullunkurinen / To that I can say I'm all about tomfoolery

Onks ohjeit antaa miten elää tai vastuun kantaa / Got any advice on how to live my life or do my duty?

Sillä mun tieto ei niin vankka oo sijottamisen suhteen eikä paljon pakkaa oo (ei oo) / Cause my investments ain't intelligent and I ain't got no stacks (no stacks)

Mua raastaa, kuulen kuinka muut nappaa paikan oikiksest (oh no) / Still it grates me, when others tell me they scored a spot in law school (oh no)

Eikä koskaan natsannu omalla kohalla ja se varmistu postitse (voi ei) / While all I ever got was a rejection letter in my mailbox (oh no)

Mä oon kondiksessa / But I'm alright

Sama se vaikka ne mua koettavat hiillostaa / Don't care if they try to roast me

Mä oon aikuinen eli päätän siitä mikä vittu mua kiinnostaa / I'm a grown-up and I get to decide what strikes my own fuckin' fancy

Chorus (by Vinttikoira):

Miks sä otat riskei / Why you taking risks

Noilla sun peliliikkeil / With those player maneuvers

Sä oot valmis lyömää ohi sun swingei / You're ready to miss all your swings

Vaikka sul vois olla jotain fiksuuki kehitteil / Even though you could have good things cookin'

Joten oisko nyt viimein aika kasvaa aikuiseks / So don't you think it's time to finally grow up

Ja pistää pelit seis / And grind the games to a halt

Oon aikuinen / I'm a grown-up

Vaikka toisinaa en tiiä et mitä oon / Even if sometimes I don't know what I am

Ilman CV:tä paikkoi täytän eikä ne mun älyy hyötykäytä vaikka sitä on / I'm doing entry-level jobs without a resume and they don't make use of my wits though there's plenty in me

Käärijän vartaloo pitkin valuu hikikarpalo / A bead of sweat rolls down Käärijä's body

Kun ne väittää еtten kartal oo / When they tell me I'm all over the place

Jos ei pihas oo avoautoa tai kartanoo / When there's no convertible parked in my yard and I've got no mansion

Ja se pеrhana raastaa meit / And it grates us to goddamn shreds

Kuulla ettei olla mitää ilman merittei / To hear we're nothing without merits

Korkeesta koulusta ei tavikset saa niiden touhusta kredittei (voi ei) / Normies ain't getting no college credits from their hustle (oh no)

Nyt mä päätin sen / Now I've made up my mind

Sama se vaikka ne mua koettavat hiillostaa (ai) / Don't care if they try to roast me (ow)

Mä oon aikuinen eli päätän siitä mikä vittu mua kiinnostaa / I'm a grown-up and I get to decide what strikes my own fuckin' fancy

[Chorus]

Mä oon aikuinen mutta omal tyylillä / I'm a grown-up but in my own style (x2) (hah!)

Ei mitää perinteist / Nothin' traditional

Mä menin eri teit (ha) / I took a different path (hah)

Joita kuljen kunnes vislaan pelit seis / That I'll keep walking until I whistle my games to a halt

(Vinttikoira:)

Joo, joo / Yeah, yeah

Päällä asuntolaina / Got a mortgage on your back

Ja alla pankin auto eikä oravanpyörästä vartin taukoo / Your ride is owned by the bank, no break from the grind

Ja himassa päätään vaimo aukoo / Got a wife at home running her mouth

Pitää laskut maksaa ku vastuu kasvaa / Gotta pay the bills as responsibilities pile up

Mutta mulla on jatkumassa mun lapsuus vasta / Meanwhile I'm just extending my childhood

Ei mun sulle tarvii olla vakuuttamassa / No need to go out of my way to convince you

Eikä raksalla nakuttamassa (naks, naks, naks, naks, naks) / Or to bang away at a construction site (tap, tap, tap, tap, tap)

Ja sehän sukulaisii takuulla rassaa / and I bet it vexes my relatives

Ku mun laiffi on tabula rasa / when my life is a tabula rasa

Ja elämäntapa (mikä) / and my lifestyle (what)

Hakuna matata

Teini-ikänen mutanttininja Vinttikoira / Teenage mutant ninja Vinttikoira

Ei inttipoika eikä sivarijätkä / not an army boy nor a civilian service bro

Enkä eti mitää rivarinpätkää / not looking for my own piece of a rowhouse

Voit ne pois mun listaltani jättää / you can leave those off my list

[Chorus]

Mä oon aikuinen mutta omal tyylillä / I'm a grown-up but in my own style (x2) (Hah!)

Ei mitää perinteist / Nothin' traditional

Mä menin eri teit (ha) / I took a different path (hah!)

Joita kuljen kunnes vislaan pelit seis (pelit seis) / That I'll keep walking until I whistle the games to a halt (games to a halt)

(x2)

Oon aikuinen / I'm a grown-up

Oon aikuinen omal tyylil / I'm a grown-up in my own style

Mitä mitä / What what (x2)

Oon aikuinen / I'm an adult

Omal tyylil / In my own style

#käärijä #kaarija #aikuinen #lyric translation

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spectres-fulcrum · 3 months

Text

I did a thing today! I made the Isaac Potts House in the Sims 4. This was the house that was George Washington's headquarters at Valley Forge in winter of 1777-1778. I've been wanting to build it for ages and it's Gwash's birthday so I finally did. I like to think, sometimes about all the things the walls of this house saw. Hamilton and Laurens kissing, probably. Maybe more. A hundred mornings of the aides laughing. Lafayette coming to talk endlessly with Washington. The boys meeting Martha and everyone welcoming Von Steuben.

I'm actually SUPER proud of the recreation. From the front it looks really good. But pure honesty, things don't translate perfectly in the Sims. Some things you have to go "this doesn't look good in the Sims. Am I going for accuracy or prettiness or the vibes?" Or some things just don't work(More on that under the cut). (Oh and the small bedroom is the bedroom Lams shared in Duty and Inclination I know it's not official but like. Lams bedroom sharing)

This shell is CC free but does use a fair amount of packs cause I was going for accuracy. It's up on my gallery, ID Minimoon46, though. I can say Castle Estates is just for outdoor stair railings on the back and sides of the house so super easy to download without CE

Like the kitchen. If I wanted to attach it, I couldn't put it on the ground, it had to be on the same foundation level and tbh I LOVE the look of the stone archway tunnel so we had to deal with a raised kitchen and stairs. (or the entire house could've been on a platform but that would've been ASKING for bugs)

Also the windows of the Aide-de-camp's office are so off. But the other shuttered windows seem so small and I wanted to go larger windows so we lost the traditional panes and white shutters but the vibes fit better. The little hanging over the front door looked horrible so I was like nope you're not getting included. It would've needed to be an actual porch to get included.

Inside it's mostly a shell but what details are there I got from the virtual tours online. I took liberties with a wallpaper that I liked better that purely plain white walls but the floor should be decent. I gave each room a door and a fireplace of a semi accurate color(I wanted to make them uniform) in appearance. I cut the attic bedroom though.

I kinda want to furnish it but also not sure HOW. Do I furnish it like the current one? Do I just do it for fun? A regular home? A big shared study and a dining room? It would be a waste to furnish TWO studies. What about bathrooms? The kitchen would be more modern though ngl. (Would people be interested in a furnished version? Any ideas?)

There's something about this house that I just want to see in person and feel the air knowing that... they were there. Like in that tiny house, they lived and loved and were real people. And there's no place where that feeling fills me more than the IPH. Maybe one day.

#isaac potts house #amrev #valley forge #george washington #happy birthday you old guy i hope you celebrated with your dear Marqs in the afterlife if it exists #I feel like I should tag lams #screw it we've all written valley forge lams fic #lams #sims 4 historical build #idk how to tag this #like it's so vague but it's connected to so many people

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sumerianlanguage · 14 hours

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Hello! I was wondering if you had any advice for writing a song in Sumerian? I have been writing lyrics for a bit and I have always been interested in ancient languages so I wanted to know how I should get started. I have some ideas swirling around in my mind as the music I have been writing is very soulful.

Hello! What an interesting question - I haven't done any songwriting in Sumerian myself, but I have practiced by translating modern songs into Sumerian, which I think gives a little insight. On my twitch stream we once translated Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen - a song that is not written for easy translation, it turns out! But it taught me many things about the interaction between Sumerian phonology/grammar and lyrical composition.

One thing I've learned is that sentences in Sumerian often use fewer words but more syllables to convey the same information. "I'd trade my soul for a wish" is seven syllables, but it's nearly impossible to convey the same meaning in Sumerian in less than nine: Zinga ashta shu gabalan. So if you write music with a strict syllable plan, prepare to convey less information per line; or to convey the same amount of info, prepare to sing "faster" (i.e. cram more syllables into a line).

Another important issue is that Sumerian sentences always end with a verb. This makes rhyming a different experience than in English - rather than having two "impact nouns" rhyme at the end of the sentence, common in many music genres, you instead have to rhyme the verbs, and often the verb conjugations. (Here's a post about how this functions in Sumerian poetry - I've linked the in-tumblr version since the on-blog version seems to be rendering out of order, and will also reblog it after this post.) Creative liberty with concept structuring can help: "You took your time with the call / I took no time with the fall" is most easily translated by making call and fall function as verbs: Ullabi gu numaden / Annga ullabi shuben "You didn't call me quickly / But I fell quickly", still a slant rhyme but helped by the fact that the first and second person conjugations ("you called", "I fell") often look identical.

Note that we can't rhyme ullabi "quickly" with the second ullabi since they're adverbs and can't end the sentence or clause. Though in my translation of the chorus, I use namga "perhaps" as almost a final exclamation in order to pull it out of the sentence and slant-rhyme with annga "however": Uda muraten / tumidim, annga / shidngu murabban / gu hemaden, namga "I met you today / a wild act, however / I give my number to you. / Call out to me, perhaps!" (Another really useful word in translating pop music is gana "let's go!" or "yeah!", which is an interjection and thus can stand separate from any clause like this.)

And one final tip: Keep your sentences simple! This is both because of the verb-final structure - Sumerian sentences don't "trail off" in the same way they do in English - and because English loves to use helping verbs, weird time-clauses, etc. that you rarely find in Sumerian. One long, languid English sentence is often best matched by several shorter, choppier Sumerian sentences. It's really hard to convey the combo of time-sequence and counterfactual in the phrase "before you came into my life, I missed you so bad", unless you're willing to spend a whole verse of the song to do so, so I ended up just simplifying it to Zae namtila ekur / Ngae namurashen "You entered my life / I wished for you a lot".

I hope that's helpful! Do check out my Sumerian music tag for more, including examples of actual ancient Sumerian lyrics (not to say "Call Me Maybe" isn't timeless and eternal in its own right). And let me know if you have further questions or any translation I can help with!

#replies #sumerian music #my translation #carly rae jepsen #sumerian grammar #sumerian phonology

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platadesangre · 5 months

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we NEED to talk about jcs 1975 madrid cast!

i have come to make camilo sesto justice

(i finally finished this post yay!)

i may be a bit biased, since this was my first jcs.

short story on how i discovered it

my dad used to be an apostle for a bootleg staged playback jcs in peru during the 70s! they used this version.

he had the cd. he also had the mp3 files. i used his computer, so that was how 13 year old me found it.

those were tough times, bc later i started doing catechesis and i kind of got depressed and started questioning my faith lol. judas' character really resonated with me

since this is a recording, i didn't have any footage to reference, so i made up everything in my mind. (this is why it was a bit weird for me to see the english productions, bc they looked nothing like in my head lol)

now, a bit of historical context for spain in the 70's

camilo sesto was a popular spanish singer and actor who went to see the jcs 1971 broadway production in london. he loved it so much that he did everything he could do financially to bring the show to spain.

spain was in a fascist dictatorship at the time

they fought with censorship for years, that's why the lyrics are a bit different (i'll make a post about that too)

they had to remodel the alcalá-palace theater stage entirely

franco (our dictator) died two days after the premiere (about time lol)

the "ultras" (conservatists) didn't like the show so they did lots of crazy stuff (for example, praying for the cast outside the theater or sending BOMB THREATHS?)

anyways, this was the first official translation for jcs!

on the main cast we have

camilo sesto as jesus christ (he wanted the role from the beggining)

teddy bautista as judas iscariot

ángela carrasco as mary magdalene

here's an old pic of them (and some apostles)

(now that i look at it closely, it kind of looks like a bootleg jcs 1973 lol)

on the recording

it's a stereo recording, so use both headphones or you'll miss out on half of it

musically speaking, it's similar to the og concept album (songs ending on fade-outs and shorter trial before pilate) but it has some interesting choices (teddy, the producer and the voice of judas, took a lot of... artistic liberties)

some things this version has

it adds lots of synth. it's very psychodelic. i understand this can be a turn off for some people

they kinda change the key to many songs. maybe to fit vocal ranges idk

teddy just loves to make up new melodies (please give this man some water)

EPIC GUITAR SOLO in what's the buzz

what's the buzz and strange thing mystifying are separated tracks for some reason

camilo sings so good

cute synth in everything's alright ángela has such an angelic voice she makes such a good mary

the drums and guitars during this jesus must die are so danceable

the BEST simon zealotes i've heard. shit goes HARD. he goes CRAY

i really love this pilate, in my rating he would be the best one

camilo's "¡SALVAOS VOSOTROS!" during the temple is really pathetic lol

damned for all time interlude replaced by synths. the SAX SOLO is also replaced by synth (questionable choice)

cool thing happens during the end of this song that i'll talk about in another post

judas' occasional nervous laughter really adds to his character

also he cries a lot

"you sad pathetic man" part during last supper is... fairly different! (i'm looking at you teddy...)

camilo's gethsemane is epic. he's a baladist singer but MAN he can ROCK

cool harmonica during the arrest

i'll never shut up about our pilate (he nervous laughs too)

herod is so fruity

judas' death really hits different when you were depressed and questioning faith (this version is BRUTAL) also lyrics change (i'll talk about it i swear)

teddy's one of the few judas who sing the i don't know how to love him reprise in the higher scale!! it sounds so painful and anguished

the album continues acceptably

other cool things it has

jesus and judas have this interesting accent difference. since camilo is from valencia, he has this pristine and traditional spanish accent. and teddy is from canarias (also lived in the usa) so his accent is rougher and more, crusty? idk how to explain it but it's neat and stablishes their dynamic a bit. (ángela is from dominican republic! but her accent is barely noticeable)

on the footage aspect, we only have old vhs videos and live audios uploaded on youtube. also some old photos

there is a book about this version. it has some anecdotes (only available in spanish)

now we have a 4 episode mini-series about the odyssey that it was to produce this. it's called "camilo superstar" (i won't be watching it bc it's a bit fan-ficy from what i've seen)

the posts i'll make about this production will be tagged as #jesucristo superstar and #jcs 1975 madrid

you can listen to it on spotify!

or on youtube (playlist made by me)

#jcs #jesucristo superstar #jcs 1975 madrid #jesucristo superestrella #jesus christ superstar #camilo sesto #ángela carrasco #teddy bautista #spain #españa #música en español #musicals #platadesangre #Spotify

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liaslemonpies · 5 months

Text

Nunca Es Suficiente (Miguel O’Hara x Mexican! Reader)

TW: nothing, just a little bit of fluff? (mostly compliments and flirting) and some coconut Spanglish 🫠

Okay, so I seen someone make a post where they said “What if the Mexican! Reader was at the Spider Society and she starts dancing to a song and Miguel walks in and sees her dancing and he’s just like 👀👀👀 so I took liberty of writing a little One-Shot for it 😙

This is my first fanfic on here so let me know how y’all like it :3

Also I’ll be using female pronouns in this one & Miguel might be a LITTLE OOC, sorry if he is :/

Anyways! Please enjoy this self indulgent story :>

Translations will be beside the dialogue and I apologize if some aren’t that accurate, I’m not too fluent of a Spanish speaker, despite being Mexican 🫣

Enjoy!

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It was like an aphrodisiac, the more you listened the more you wanted.

You couldn’t help but mutter the words to the song as you worked, sorting the different files of anomalies Miguel had assigned you.

Miguel had recruited you after you helped capture an anomaly that threatened your earth and those in it. It was a very hesitant decision that required a lot of convincing—and I mean on hands and knees type of begging—before he let you join what was a medium sized team at the time.

Your light singing echoed through the empty room as your head bobbed lightly to the music.

Just then, your favorite song began to play and you squealed in delight.

“Nunca es suficiente para mí, porque siempre quiero más de tí…”. (It is never enough for me because I want more of you).

You couldn’t help but swing your hips to the music as you sang, the addictive song floating around your head as the world seemed to freeze.

“Yo quisiera hacerte más feliz… Hoy, mañana, siempre, hasta el fin…”. (I want to make you happier today, tomorrow, forever, until the end).

You placed a tender hand on your abdomen as you turned yourself around, hips moving in a circular motion while you hummed the musical interlude.

“Mi corazón estalla por tu amor. ¿Y tú qué crees? ¿Que esto es muy normal? Acostumbrado estás tanto al amor que no lo ves, yo nunca he estado así…”. You twirled yourself before continuing, “Si de casualidad me ves llorando un poco es porque yo te quiero a ti…”. (My heart bursts because of your love. And what do you think? That this is normal? You are so used to love that you don't see it, I've never been like this. If by any chance you see me crying a bit that's because I want you).

You rocked your hips to the beat as you began singing the chorus, eyes closed as you danced.

At this point you were in your own world—everything you previously occupied with was out the window as the music took you elsewhere. So much so that you didn’t even hear Miguel enter the room and ask for your reports through your headphones.

“Y tú te vas jugando a enamorar, todas las ilusiones vagabundas que se dejan alcanzar. Y no verás que lo que yo te ofrezco es algo incondicional…”. (And there you go, jokingly charming. Every wandering emotion that allows to be catched and you won't see that what I offer you is something unconditional).

As much as he wanted to leave the room and forget about anything he saw, he was entrapped by your silky voice as much as he was by the smooth movements of your body.

He knew it wasn’t right—you were coworkers in the Spider Society, hell, you weren’t even from the same universe!—but even then he couldn’t help but stare at the swaying of your hips. Your full hips that moved with such fluidity and ease, he wasn’t sure how he was still containing himself.

“Dios dame fuerza…” (God give me strength) he muttered as he cleared his throat, hoping to grab your attention before things… escalated.

When your only response was song—that sweet song that spilled from your lips—he knew he needed to take a more forward approach but… he almost couldn’t. Almost.

He took a breath in a poor attempt to stabilize himself before clearing his throat once more and tapping your shoulder gently.

You were mid-chorus and goddamn him for interrupting that honey-like voice of yours. You looked at him with the tiniest amount of fear in your eyes, as if you’ve been caught doing something bad, and Miguel couldn’t help but smirk.

You tore your earbuds out of your head as your heart pounded in your chest, unsure of what he would say to your actions.

To your surprise, the only thing he said was, “Never knew you could dance.”

Mierda (Shit), has he been there that long?

You cleared your throat gently as a blush crept to your cheeks, “It runs in my family.”

You had a hard time reading his expression, which only worsened your anxious state as he responded, “¿Y cántate también?” (And you sing too?).

You nodded gently, cursing in your head again. Had you really just laid yourself to him like an open book?

He hummed in return, “Tienes un voz muy bonita.” (You have a pretty voice).

Your face turned more red than it already was, “Gracias…” (Thank you).

“De nada, pajarito.” (You’re welcome, little bird).

You squeaked at the nickname, earning a deep chuckle from his lips.

You took a breath, hoping it would cool your red face, “So… did you need anything?”

Miguel nodded, his slightly playful demeanor vanishing before your eyes, “I need the reports I assigned you.”

“Of course,” you ignored the feeling of his eyes following you as you reached for the flash drive-like device he gave you at the start. You pressed a button and the screens that emitted from the device flashed before they disappeared completely.

Turning on your heel, you handed the device to Miguel, who palmed it once it was in his possession.

“I’ll have more work for you later, so stick around,” he ordered bluntly.

You nodded, fixing your posture as he spoke.

“And next time, don’t be afraid to sing or dance around me, Pajarito. Puedo enseñarte danzas nuevas~”. (I can teach you new dances.)

You felt your face grow hot at his words, breath caught in your throat as he turned to leave the room.

“Hasta luego, Pajarito,” he smirked over his shoulder as he shut the door behind him, leaving you alone with your red face and achy heart, knowing nothing will be enough for you because of him.

#Spotify #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel x reader fluff #kinda #that’s it

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systematicallycapricious · 5 months

Text

Time for English P4AU manga volume 2! Like last time, shenanigans are below the cut and requests for page comparisons are always welcome.

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Overall Opinion

My initial read-through this time was done while I was sleep deprived, so take my impressions with a grain of salt, lmao.

I think the the three most memorable impressions I took away from the translation this time around were:

The syntax felt more markedly stilted to me than last time. As well, the writing was a bit awkward in some places, though I'm unsure if that's a trait of the original Jap writing or if it only arises from attempting to format it into Eng grammar and culture.

The fan-Eng translation took creative liberties with some words that I think were better served by the official-Eng's translation staying truer to the Jap text. Also, the official-Eng transl provided interesting insight into some things that the fan-Eng transl didn't, which I'll go into a bit below.

The scene where Minazuki ambushes Naoto was mistranslated as Sho being the speaker, despite the Japanese text clearly being Minazuki's language patterns. TuT

Overall, I had a positive impression of it and would say that it's worth reading for those who don't mind a few errors and awkward lingual choices.

As for the ミナヅキ・皆月 naming differentiation... Thus far, both Sho and Minazuki have been "Minazuki", as per adherence to the Jap naming scheme. No alternative font, font effects, subtext, special text bubbles, nor anything to clarify the distinction. However, I'm personally reserving judgment until I get my hands on Vol 3, as I have a sliver of hope that the protagonists knowing the difference is permission for the audience to know the difference. I'm not sure how much I actually believe in said sliver, but I'm willing to give the benefit of the doubt at the very least. ^^;

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Illustrations and Author Comics

Vol 2 still has the illustration pages and end-of-volume author's comic! The exclusive edition also has the fold-out poster of the original cover, of course.

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The mistranslated ambush scene was, in fact, Minazuki

So y'all can see for yourself that the text in the Minazuki-Naoto ambush scene clearly uses 俺 and 君 rather than 僕 or テメエ. (Though to be fair, I've actually found an instance where Sho uses 俺 in Vol 2. The line is 「テメエこそ俺にカンショーすんじゃねえ!!」, towards the start of Ch14 when Kagu's mocking his Ikutsuki issues (so Sho's pretty irate). He then returns to using 僕 immediately after; and as there are no visual indications that he switched with Minazuki to say this, I'm pretty confident that this is an exception and not the rule, lol.)

(Said instance of Sho using 俺)

The non-pronoun words should be indicative of whether it's Sho or Minazuki speaking as well, but I'm not fluent enough in Japanese to be able to go into detail on those in this post. ^^;

Overall, I think the translator has been doing pretty good at nailing Sho and Minazuki's respective patterns of speech and employing them in the correct moments – and they go back to getting it correct for when Minazuki reveals himself at the end of Vol 2, too. This one scene just got goofed for some reason I guess. P:

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Translation Upsides

Translation Win 1: Ch15's name was translated properly! The Jap name is 「幻月」 (gengetsu), but the fan-Eng translated it as "Minazuki", which would be 「皆月」 if it was in kanji form. Which – I mean, it is the chapter that Minazuki first formally introduces himself as "Minazuki", so it makes sense? But I personally think that "Paraselene", aka the phenomenon called "moon dogs", is a much cooler and more fitting name for how the chapter goes, including Minazuki's reveal. (-v-)

Translation Win 2: At the start of Ch14, Sho says "Tch! Must've fallen asleep. Hate that dream.", which implies that he's had that dream before. I don't know enough Japanese to know if the original line of 「チッ　寝ちまったのか...　嫌な夢だぜ」 also means a recurrence specifically, but it's still interesting fanon-characterization fodder nonetheless.

Puppet-Ikutsuki's following dialog was also a pretty interesting translation, I think. For example: "The smarts to rule the mental battle. The strength to command the physical battle..! You excel in both! In fact, I'd say you're my greatest masterpiece! I'm proud!"

Translation Win 3: In Ch13, Kagutsuchi's first line of reaching out to Sho is translated correctly as "wings of death", versus the "Plume of Dusk" that the fan-Eng transl uses. Conceptually, they're probably the same thing, but literally the word used is 「死の羽根」 (shi no hane), not 「黄昏の羽根」 (tasogare no hane; which is typically "Plume of Dusk" in Japanese). And this isn't a mistake on the part of the Jap writer either, as far as I can tell, as 「黄昏の羽根」 is used in other places, such as when Labrys is explaining what Plumes are to the Investigation Team ([see here]).

Additionally, though the syntax was exceptionally awkward, I thought the essence of Kagu's dialog in this scene was translated pretty well. And honestly, it's fun to headcanon that Kagu could only communicate limited concepts or words before establishing a stronger connection, thus explaining why the syntax is stilted like: "Your suffering will continue. Eternally. End it."

Translation Win 4: It's a small detail, but Ikutsuki specifically saying "If this is all it takes to kill him... Then that's just how weak he was." is heckin' brutal. Switching to past-tense like Sho's already done and over with when he's still alive and listening, oof. (For comparison, the fan-Eng translated it as "If he dies here, it'll just mean he's worthless.")

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Translation Downsides

Typography Loss 1: Kagutsuchi's text still lacks a cool font like the Jap version has, and that reduces the artistic impact a bit, IMO. In the Jap version, it looks a bit like the text was scorched onto the writing surface – which, given Kagu is a kami of fire, is a pretty apt vibe. While in Eng, he's relegated to the font that all the other characters use while speaking. It's probably better like this for readability purposes, but from a stylistic perspective it's a bit sad.

(Also fun fact: In Jap, the Shadow-Kanji and Shadow-Chie puppets briefly use this burnt font in their speech bubbles. It's for about 1-2 bubbles each (S-Kanji calling forth a fighting ring, S-Chie being in disbelief that Naoto had been holding back against her), and the rest of their dialog is in various other fonts. I'm not sure if there are other instances of non-Kagu characters using it beyond that, nor what exactly it's intended to imply through these additional instances, but it's interesting to note.)

(Additionally; examining it more closely, the Japanese typography is really dynamic in general, which is pretty cool. I'm not sure if that dynamicness invalidates any literary significance to Kagu's burnt font though, lol.)

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Translation Intrigues and Amusements

Typography Intrigue 1: They left the page of fiery "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"s as-is, rather than trying to turn the 「あ」 and 「ア」 into "a/A". Which, while I immensely respect the fan-Eng version for trying to transcribe that artistic text, I think the horrific vibe comes through a bit better with the original text and art preserved. (Maybe in part due to the wave effect on the text having 3 dimensions rather than just 2?)

Translation Intrigue 2: In Ch13, one of the double page spreads is translated as "This world doesn't need anyone. There's no one in this world." Meanwhile, in the fan-Eng version, it's written as "I don't need anyone! I'm fine by myself!"; and the original Jap text is 「この世界には誰もいらない　この世界には誰もいない」 (the same line, just minus the ら).

I personally prefer the fan-Eng's take on it, as the official-Eng's version confused me for several weeks after the fact; but as I don't understand the nuance of the Jap version, I have no clue as to which Eng interpretation is more accurate. >_>;

Translation Amusement 3: Yu apparently has the word "welp" in his lexicon. And on the second page, the way that his dialog is worded makes it sound like he's smitten with Sho, lmao.

Translation Amusement 4: Yu's so used to his friends' antics at this point that he can just tune them out like that, lol. I also just appreciate Chie and Yosuke's dialog here in general.

Translation Intrigue 5: Ch13's title is translated as "Crimson Memories" in the official-Eng transl, versus fan-Eng's "Scarlet Memories". The original Japanese words are 「緋色の記憶」.

Translation Intrigue 6: What's typically translated as "the rules of this world" (regarding Adachi) is translated here as "reality's rules". The original Jap text (in this manga at least) is 「現実のルール」, not 「世界のルール」; so literally "reality", like "reality of the situation", and not 'reality' like "world/society".

Translation Intrigue 7: Ikutsuki's iconic "the death of everything... but also the beginning" speech is translated a bit differently compared to the fan-Eng, and drastically different compared to Ultimax's EpP3 Ch1. It keeps the same general concepts, but the cadence, word choices, and syntax are executed differently.

Translation Intrigue 8: Side-by-sides of the kendo/fencing pun because I think the differing translation choices, as well as the original context of the pun, are interesting.

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(If you wanna see the fan-Eng in higher quality than the screengrabs I used, you can find it on Mangadex [here].)

#Sho Minazuki #Yu Narukami #Chie Satonaka #(tagging Chie mostly because of the cover art; in case any fans of hers want to see it)#Shuji Ikutsuki #HinoKagutsuchi (Persona)#P4AU/P4U2 manga #Persona 4 Arena Ultimax #P4AU #P4U2 #Persona 4 The Ultimax Ultra Suplex Hold #ペルソナ4 ジ・アルティマックスウルトラス―プレックスホールド

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